#HOTELS&BUSINESS

[kampalaedgetimes]

Tubayo shines at Pearl of Africa Tourism Expo 2025

[10bmnews]

Europe stocks rise as investors look ahead to U.S.-China trade talks in Switzerland

European stocks had a positive start to Friday’s trading session, after the U.K. and U.S. confirmed a trade agreement and as investors looked ahead to U.S.-China trade negotiations set to begin this weekend. The pan-European Stoxx Europe 600 index was 0.4% higher by 9:41 a.m. in London. The U.K.’s FTSE 100 gained 0.4%, while Germany’s DAX and France’s CAC 40 each gained more than 0.5%. On…

[pier-carlo-universe]

 Dall’antica saggezza al futuro dell’impresa: Business Leaders Summit e CEO Italian Summit & Awards. Roma. Milano

Fiera Milano ispira i top manager con i grandi maestri del passato e strategie innovative per affrontare le sfide del futuro.

Fiera Milano ispira i top manager con i grandi maestri del passato e strategie innovative per affrontare le sfide del futuro. Due eventi d’eccellenza per il top management italianoRoma, 26-27 novembre 2024 | Milano, 4 dicembre 2024 – Con il Business Leaders Summit a Roma e il CEO Italian Summit & Awards a Milano, Fiera Milano, attraverso la sua divisione Business International, offre due…

[powerexec]

Boosting Sales with Incentive-Based Marketing for Gig Workers and Small Business Owners

Supercharging Sales: Unleashing the Power of Incentive-Based Marketing for Gig Workers and Small Business Owners   In today’s fiercely competitive marketplace, gig workers and small business owners need to think outside the box to stand out from the crowd and boost sales. One strategy that has proven to be highly effective is incentive-based marketing, a powerful approach that offers enticing…

[wellourgerdes]

Raphael Paris Hotel

Hotel Raphaël Paris This elegant hotel in a 1925 building is 1.8 km from the Eiffel Tower and a 7-minute walk from the Charles de Gaulle – Étoile metro/RER station and the Arc de Triomphe. Located in the centre of Paris, just a short stroll from the Arc de Triomphe and a 2-minute walk from the Champs-Elysees and the Arc de Triomphe, this five-star hotel provides opulent lodging. This 5-star…

[world-fresh-news]

A woman traveling the world with only 20 thousand rupees per month, no worries about the hotel, no rent tension, adopted this trick.

A woman traveling the world with only 20 thousand rupees per month, no worries about the hotel, no rent tension, adopted this trick. Alan Green, 29, is a graphic designer from Northern Ireland. He loved to travel the world. Tried for it many times but due to job problem and lack of money she was not able to do it. Then one day suddenly he decided to leave everything and go for a walk. Started…

[charles-leclerizz]

01 . ᝰ.ᐟ do i look like i care about love ?

models: carlos sainz x journalist!reader

status: just met . ( she's hot. he's annoying )

series ?: Off the record (OR25)

timeline: Before the 2024 season starts

mood: Chapter one. Hopefully they don't kill each other.

warnings: swearing .

editors note: its finally hereee. I genuinely love what's going on here, so I hope yall do aswww. just a reminder that my requests are open (Though I take my damn time icl) and I love talking to yall so come on down *wink wonk*

tags : [@vroomvroomcircuit, @disneyprincemuke, @verstappen-cult, @starkwlkr, @sailing-with-100-ships, @foreveralbon, @lorarri, @scuderia-piastri], [@dallaski, @nichmeddar, @sisinever, @ksthegreat] IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, PLEASE SEND IN AN ASK, AND MUTUALS LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE REMOVED ON PRIV !

One. Two. Three  

The rhythmic tapping of your pen against the desk is interrupted by the quiet hinges of your office door, “Hey, I got a new story for ya.” 

Your boss stops in front of you, buttons straining against the bulge of his stomach, not entirely where you would look and flinch from the pressure, but enough to make you squint your eyes to make sure you were looking at the correct part of his body.  

You groan, head lolling back lazily, “Sal, I already have an article to write.”  

“Yeah, but this one’s better,” He implores, smacking a thick manilla folder on top of the mountain of crumpled papers, an array of newspaper cuttings and pages ripped out barbarically from the assorted magazine’s, staples everywhere.  

You roll your eyes, “really? There's something more interesting than this.” you arch an eyebrow, picking up a laminated cutting from your interrupted research, the flimsy picture of some irrelevant rugby player sways between your fingers, before falling flaccid, “you’re kidding.” 

Sal ushers your attention to his addition on your desk, “I'm not going to lie to ya, this is huge, you crack this one properly. It's a whole new world for you.” His southern accent comes out thicker with each minute he spends amping up this assignment, “I'm talkin’ corner office, ya own assistant, one of the expresso machines that ya gals love.” 

“You mean an espresso machine?” you correct unhelpfully, boredom already weighing your eyelids down. You adjust your glasses, pushing them to the highest point of your nose as you flip open the folder.  

You’re met with images of a vaguely familiar face, tan, European with stumble scattered across his cheeks and chin like calculated dark brown paint splatters. 

“am I meant to know who this is ?” your fingers glide against the pile, fanning out multiple other pieces of paper, full body shots of him walking down what seems to be a tarmac, flanked on each side by loyal looking assistants clad in an eye-watering red uniform, matching his... astronaut suit?  

You thumb through the more interesting looking papers as Sal answers your question, exasperated by your hesitance, “Carlos Sainz, F1 Driver for Ferrari. He’s like their golden egg. Real pretty, real rich 'n real fucked up.”  

You nod slowly, the pieces starting to form in your mind as you consume more and more flashy tabloid titles,  

“ FERRARI'S GOLDEN BOY OR LIABILITY ? ”  “ SAINZ'S LATE-NIGHT ESCAPADES: PR NIGHTMARE OR JUST FUN ? "

" INSIDE THE MIND OF AN F1 REBEL "

Each photo is paired with damning evidence, blurry images of the man in clubs with various women clinging to his arm, leaning into his side drunkenly as camera’s flash in their faces. 

 Others include him stumbling out of expensive nightclubs, surrounded by diamonds and debauchery along with more invasive photos of the glitz and glam of this guy’s... no Carlos’ life- yachts bigger than hotels and enough alcohol to put a whole transplant list out of business. 

 All in all, not your vibe.  

You shake your head, “Are you serious right now?” your voice is low and disbelieving, “I’m not writing about a spoiled brat, who by the looks of it,” you hold up a photo of him pouring too much vodka into a too small shot glass, “is perfectly happy as is.” 

“You don’t get it,” Sal lowers his voice to a hoarse whisper, “I want you to expose him. According to some connections I have in the sport- there are rumours floating around of him having some deep secrets, anger issues, broken contracts, women signing NDAs. There’s something about this guy- I know it, and so do the guys who sign your pay cheque, who are also willing to write a much higher number if you get the inside scoop.” 

“So, you want me to socially assassinate him.” 

He squeaks noncommittally, “If that’s what the truth is, then yes. I just want you to find out what he’s hiding. You've got the best eye for cracks in the paint, sweetheart.” Sal shrugs, “You think he managed to keep himself clean while driving a goddamn Ferrari?” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek, still rifling through the seemingly never-ending pages of Carlos. Granted, nearly half of them are in other languages, a perk of being an international race car driver, you assume.

Yet you pause when your eyes find a smaller photo tucked away, this one doesn’t have a flashy, insulting title, neither does it have an unflattering flash-bang emphasising his face. It’s just him. Head bowed between his shoulders, elbows braced on his knees, with his hands tangled in his hair. No champagne shower, no confident smirk. Just. Exhaustion  

You sigh.  

“Why me? You've got a bunch of capable guys out there, girls as well, who won’t mind getting their reputation damaged for writing a piece like this.” 

“Your’e the best there is” He implores, “They're just not as good as you at getting the maximum reward from the risk. And you’re the only one who won’t fall in love with him.”  

You harrumph, ignoring Sal’s victorious smile.  

When he turns back around, large hand braced on the door handle, you take notice of him once again.  

“Oh — one thing. Ferrari agreed to let one of our journalists shadow him for a month. We told them that you're writing a PR piece to soften his image. They don’t know about this.” He gestures to his addition to your mess of archives.

You snap your eyes up at him, “You’re kidding.” 

“You know I never joke about access; it was easier this way.” He waggles a finger at you, “Play nice, act fluffy, get in deep.” Sal clears his throat cautiously, “And — this is the kicker — Carlos and his team think it’ll be easier to justify your presence if you two fake a relationship. His PR manager thinks it’ll sell the ‘soft’ angle” 

Your mouth parts. “Fake date him?” 

“You’re hot. He’s hot. The optics are amazing. Everyone will eat it up.” 

“This is fucking insane.” 

Sal’s already walking out. “So’s journalism. Pack a bag, take the week, you leave next Monday.” 

y/n ' s instagram stories :

privacy status - 30% , you're a semi-famous sports journalist

instagram security - private . 10 k followers ( close friends, coworkers , favourite clients )

< DESC -- story 1 : a picture of your suitcase, captioned : "packing for a little unexpected trip", song : " tadow " by Masego & FJK . story 2 : a picture of your airport security tray, captioned : " got the essentials", song : " sunset lover " by Petit Biscuit. >

< DESC -- story 3 : a picture of airport gate board, captioned : "ok . dont freak out", song : " electric " by Alina Brand & Khalid . story 4 : a picture of museum ferrari in maranello, captioned : "❤️", song : " God Speed " by Frank Ocean. >

y/n's group chat

grp chat name : " The Scoop Squad 🕵️‍♀️☕ "

members : emma, scarlett & sophie

relationship : co-workers at network, best friends.

You tipped the guard handsomely once he had safely dropped you off in front of the large sleek doors of the Ferrari headquarters, though you would have appreciated if he hadn’t let you lug around all the luggage you were instructed to bring.  

“a whole years' worth darlin’” Sal chortled over the phone, his laugh grating against your ears as you sat on the third large, over-packed suitcase of the evening.  

You huffed, flipping your hair out of your face as you stood the expanded luggage upright, “i hate you, you know that right?”  

“Yeah, sure sweetheart” 

Apparently, the first hotel of many you were staying at, would've collected your entire circus school of worldly possessions. But alas, there was nary a pre-booked taxi waiting for you on the hot streets of Maranello.  

So, there you were, sweaty, flushed and panting in front of probably one of the most prestigious buildings in the world of motorsports. Ready to meet, your fake boyfriend. 

Thankfully, your ID card had worked and as soon as you scanned the piece of plastic, the door mechanically opened, welcoming you with a jet powered gust of chilled air.

If you were honest with yourself, the Ferrari headquarters were exactly what you expected, bodacious in the impressive history they had and unapologetic with the displays of their many trophies. A living legacy of speed.  

“Hey!” 

Bright voice. Too bright. Lina. 

You turned to find your PR handler bounding down the glass staircase, her tall heels clicking dangerously against them. You recognised the voice from its echo, almost identical to how it sounded through the phone.  

“You must be her,” Lina said, stopping short in front of you with a dazzling smile, framed by bubble-gum pink lipstick. Sparkly pink clipboard in hand. “God, you look better than your press photo.” She fawned over you briefly, her knees melting slightly as her face tilted.  

“You say that to all your fake girlfriends?” You replied, deadpan as you wiped off the sweat beading on your forehead. 

Lina blinked. Then laughed delicately, almost like bells. “Oh, I like you.” She extended a hand. “Lina. We’ve like, totally, spoken over the phone. Ready to sell your soul?” 

You took Lina’s perfectly manicured hand. “Always.” 

“Well, come on then,” She grinned at you, crooking her finger. “Time to meet your boyfriend” She jumped happily, “I feel like cupid y’know, I have everything planned out to a T” She slaps the thick wad of papers on her clipboard.  

You didn’t have to walk far. 

Carlos was already waiting — leaned casually against the reception desk in a hoodie and joggers. His hair was falling artistically over his face, eye’s focussed on his phone as his fingers tapped wildly on the screen. He looked better than the photos. His eyes larger, more sensitive. Lips fuller and pinker. Shoulders wider, stronger. Everything was so much more overwhelming, more heart stuttering. 

He looked up. And smiled. 

Slow. Wide. His gaze looking you up and down, studying you.  

“You’re early,” he noted. Slipping his phone into his pocket 

“You’re overdressed,” you replied, eyebrow arched, signalling to his ensemble.  

Carlos glanced down at his clothes, smirk tugging at his mouth. “Comfort over ego.” 

“Doesn’t seem like you’re lacking either.” 

Lina's bright blue eyes pong-ponged between the two of you as the conversation quickened pace, smile plastered on thicker. “This is going great.” 

You looked Carlos up and down once, eyes unreadable. “You’re shorter in person.” lie 

He laughed, unaffected. “You’re meaner.” 

You scoffed. “Surprised?”  

“Not at all.” He cocked his head. “Hot journalist. Bit of a bitch. Yeah, that tracks.” his accent is too hot 

You smiled, tight-lipped and dangerous. “You’ll love me.” 

He snorted, amused. “I already hate you.” agreed. 

Lina clapped her hands once, too loud.

You snapped your mouth shut, lips pressed together as your gaze never left Carlos'. He continued to smirk down at you, biting his lip as your eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. The longer you stare at one another, the more sure you become of the flush crawling up your neck, colouring your cheeks an embarrassing shade of attraction.

"you hot?" Carlos asks, faux-concerned, eyes twinkling with amusement as you press your hands to your face.

your eyes snap up to his face, studying the delicate curves and sharp lines, "fine. thanks"

Lina chirped “Okay! Love the enemies-to-lovers thing we’ve got going on.” She turned to the you. “Let’s get you briefed before you start a fistfight in the lobby. You can leave your luggage here; the hotel will send your taxi in a few minutes.” 

Lina led you toward a quieter corridor, rattling off acronyms and regulations — paddock zones, press call windows, sponsor tiers — your eyes glazed over ever so slightly. 

You could feel his gaze on her back, or ass, before you heard him murmur something low to the man who had joined him, equally clad in casual clothes, though his hoodie was a bright red. Loyal, even if its unfashionable.  

“She’s gonna eat you alive,” Charles said, grinning as his teammates eyes never leave your retreating figure. 

Carlos shrugged lazily. “She’s smoking hot.” 

You turned your head over your shoulder at that exact moment — slow, purposeful — and caught his eye with a look that said, I heard that, paired with a cheeky wink.  

Then you smirked and went back to focussing on Lina.  

Carlos coughed once, flustered, his tan skin turning a blushed pink. Charles cackled, patting Carlos on the back.

Game on. 

[bijouxcarys]

Ain't Nobody's Business (Roman Reigns x fem!Reader)

WWE Masterlist

Description: Gionna's incessant teasing about your relationship with Joe comes to a head when you're pushed too far. On the bright side, it leads you to confess what you've been wanting to get off your chest for so long... **THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO "PROVE IT" **

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI, fluff, smut, aftercare, hurt/comfort, oral sex (f and m receiving, 69, daddy kink, pet names, praise kink, mild spanking, comfort sex, cum marking, unprotected sex, idiots in love, multiple orgasms, fingering, spitting, dom/sub, lord forgive me, what am I talking about I'm a satanist <3

Word Count: 12.1k

Tags: @empressdede @thetribalqueen @heauxvibez @bigsimperika

@cyberdejos2 @keyaho @headoftheetable @jstarr86 @southerngirl41

@tshepisho @cry1nwhileimcumm1n @maeb99 @thedesireds @dzdndcnfsd

@expert-texpert @niknakbucks92 @sillyteecup @trentybenty @pittieprincess22

@electronicwitchsandwich @thefairywithboots @eringobragh420

(If you want to be tagged in any future Roman or Damian fics, let me know!)

The night sky over Belfast was clear, a welcome switch up from how chaotic everything was back inside the arena. The show had been electric, and it was just another reason to add to the list of why European tours were Y/N’s favourite live shows to take part of.

“Fans are always so loud over here,” she commented casually, eyeing her phone in her right hand as she adjusted the strap of her gear bag slung over her shoulder with her left. Her muscles were all tensed up and aching from her match with Trinity, but it was a familiar and welcoming sensation. This was what she signed up for, and it was never not worth the pain.

“What can I say? My people know how to make some noise,” Becky answered, a clear sense of pride in her voice.

“You can say that again,” Colby cackled with his tongue sticking out, wrapping an arm around Becky and pulling her in.

“Ew,” Gi scrunched her nose up, looking at Y/N with an exaggerated grimace. The two of them hung back slightly, behind Colby and Becky, and Gi had done nothing but eye her all night with that infuriatingly knowing look.

Ever since Miss Daddio over here had overhead that night in the hotel she’d been relentless with her teasing. And Y/N could just feel it coming again, the inevitable moment when Gi would start poking at her, trying to get a rise out of her.

“So,” Gi began casually as the four of them approached the car, “Who are you texting?”

Y/N didn’t look up from her phone, trying to keep her features neutral. “Nobody interesting.”

“Mmhmm,” Gi hummed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “That’s why you’ve been glued to that thing since your match, right?”

The phone buzzed again with a new message just as she spoke. Y/N glanced down, a little flutter in her chest when she saw Joe’s name on the screen.

Joe: You on ur way back now?

Gionna leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen. “Is that who I think it is?”

Y/N quickly tilted the phone away, typing out a quick reply.

Y/N: Yeah, just leaving the arena now.

“You’re sooo bad at hiding it at this point, Y/N.”

“And you’re sooo good at getting on my nerves tonight, Gi.”

Joe: You good?

Becky and Colby were already in the front of the car, Colby behind the wheel and Becky beside him. Y/N and Gionna slid into the back, settling in for the ride back to the hotel. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the conversation in the front resumed. They were super amped about the rest of the tour, and more so about the fact that they’d actually be able to be together the whole time. And Y/N would be lying if she said it didn’t provoke a sort of envy from within her.

She just couldn’t help but wonder if she and Joe would ever be able to be like that.

“You hear from Charlotte since your match?” Colby asked Becky.

“No, I didn’t get a chance to,” she said, putting her phone on the dashboard whilst she tied her hair up. “Saw the doctor come out of medical, but I don’t know what happened.”

“Damn,” he shook his head. “I’m sure she’s good—even though that suplex was clean as fuck.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t supposed to do a whole flip and land on her nose!”

“Ain’t your fault, you got them muscles, baby.”

“You’re so annoying.”

Y/N was trying to focus on the conversation up front, but Gionna wasn’t making it easy. She just kept nudging her, whispering little jabs that only she could hear. Whilst Y/N knew Gi wasn’t trying to piss her off, it had been a long fucking night, and all Y/N wanted to do was curl up in bed and enjoy the rest of the night before they had to head out again in the morning.

Joe: ???

“You gonna see him again?” Gi asked quietly.

Gritting her teeth, Y/N angled herself away from her, trying her best to keep her phone concealed. “Not now, Gi, please…”

“C’mon, you gotta give me something at this point…” she trailed off, widening her eyes and pursing out her lower lip. “You kinda owe me after subjecting me to such horrors.”

Y/N snorted a little, glancing at her friend, but kept scrolling through her phone.

“I mean, I’ve kept your secret this long, haven’t I?”

This earned her a glare from Y/N. “That’s because you don’t have a choice.”

Y/N: Liv’s being a pain in the ass…

“You know it’s only a matter of time before someone else figures this shit out.”

Before Y/N could respond, Colby’s voice cut through into the back. “What are you two whispering about back there?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Y/N said quickly, sending him a friendly smile as she caught his eye in the rearview mirror.

“Uh-huh,” Colby replied, not really buying it. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Becky turned slightly in her seat, giving Y/N a curious look. She even narrowed her eyes a bit, as though it was going to make her crack. 

“What?”

The redhead just smirked a little, before returning to her normal position. 

Joe: She knows, doesn’t she?

Y/N looked down at the text message, a small rush of guilt washing over her. How was she supposed to tell him that not only did Gionna know about them, but she overheard Y/N being fingerbanged to death a metre and a half away from her? 

Y/N: …

Y/N: Don’t make me answer that😩

Joe: I ain’t mad baby

Joe: just wish you’d tell me

Joe: I don’t care that she knows

Y/N: You might not, but you’re not the one having to sit there and listen to her go on about it are youuuu ugh

Joe: 🤭

Y/N: It’s not funny!

Y/N: It’s pissing me off

Joe: Sorry sorry… i know it upsets you

Joe: Just got to the hotel. 217 if you wanna come see me

Y/N: Do you want me to?

Joe: I always want u to come see me baby girl

Joe: Can’t get enough of your fine ass

Y/N was in the process of swiping her keycard to the room she was sharing with Gi when she saw that last message. Even in message form, he never failed to get her all worked up. It was like she could hear him speaking the exact words to her.

Y/N: Lemme settle in first

Y/N: …and I’ll think about it ;)

Joe: Tease

She knew damn well she’d be paying that man a visit tonight.

Letting out a deep breath, she kicked off her shoes and dropped her gear bag by the door. The exhaustion from her match was starting to set in, and all she wanted really was a hot shower and some peace and quiet.

Gi was already sprawled out on her bed, flipping through the channels on the TV.

“Anything interesting on?” Y/N asked passively, covering her mouth as she yawned.

“Uh,” Gi hummed, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Ooh!”

Taking a glance at the TV, Y/N instantly recognised the familiar head of wet, dark hair, along with that familiar black vest. Of course, he had to be on the fucking television. Of course it’s that moment Gi happens to switch over to. Of fucking course.

“Oh, look, it’s your boyfriend.”

Y/N groaned internally. “Who?” she feigned innocence.

With a drawn out sigh, Gi pulled herself back up into a seated position and turned the TV down. “Come on, Y/N. Stop ignoring it and fess up. It’s not like people haven’t noticed you two practically eye-fucking each other, it’s just that I’m the only one who’ll say anything about it!”

“Pretty sure Trin would,” Y/N smirked, knowing full well that if people really were noticing such interactions, it would have gotten back to Trinity, and then to Jon. And then Josh. We all know what the fallout of that would be.

“Uh-huh…” Gi grinned, eyeing her friend up. “It’s seriously like you’re in your own little world whenever he’s within range.”

Y/N simply ignored the comment, heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. She leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection for a minute. Of course, Joe had been on her mind all night. He was always on her mind, but being able to watch him in front of thousands of people in his element… it just pushed her closer to the edge of letting everyone know—letting him know—that she loved that man with her entire being.

For a few blissful moments, Y/N managed to push everything out of her mind whilst taking a hot shower, steam filling up the small bathroom as she let the water wash away the sweat and stress of the night. Gionna’s teasing, the pressure of keeping things under wraps with Joe, even the thrill of the match. It was just her and the calming rush, and that was exactly what she needed.

But as soon as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, she could hear Gi’s voice through the door.

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s really going on, or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?” she called playfully, but with an undertone of persistence.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she dried off and pulled on her cotton shorts and an old, oversized shirt—the kind of comfortable clothes she always wore to bed. She took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door, steeling herself for whatever Gionna was about to say.

“Please can we not do this right now?” she asked as she stepped back into the room, running a hand through her damp hair. She tossed her dirty clothes into the corner on top of her suitcase and climbed onto her bed, sitting cross-legged.

Gionna wasn’t having it. “Come on, Y/N! It’s been driving me nuts. You and Roman—you guys together together, or just se—”

Y/N groaned, flopping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s nothing, Gi. We’re just… I don’t know. Figuring things out, I guess.”

Gi’s eyes lit up with excitement, and she bounced on her bed, leaning forward. “Figuring things out? That sounds like progress! Oh my God, Y/N, this is so exciting! I knew you two had something going on, you gotta tell me everything—how it started, what he’s like when it’s just the two of you, all the details!”

Bitch, you heard most of that shit.

But she didn’t let on, even though her patience was fraying at the edges. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Don’t give me that,” Gi shot back, grinning. “I’m your friend, Y/N. I can see it all over your face. You like each other a lot.”

Y/N closed her eyes. Gionna meant well, but she didn’t understand how complicated things were. “It’s not that simple, alright?”

“Why not?” Gi pressed, her voice full of genuine curiosity. “You’re both adults, you’re both single—what’s stopping you?” Suddenly, her face dropped. “Wait, he is single, right?”

“Yes, he’s single!” Y/N insisted. “Well… recently divorced—but he’s single, Gionna, that’s all you need to know.”

“But–”

“Stop!” Y/N finally broke, shooting up from the bed and staring down at Gionna. “Just stop. I don’t wanna talk about it, Gi, I’ve had enough for tonight. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m stressed.” 

Gionna’s mouth fell open, eyes wide. “I-I’m sor–”

“No.” She didn’t want to wait for a response, she simply grabbed her keycard. “I’m going to Joe’s room. If you say anything about it to anyone, I will cut you out of my life.” And she left.

Y/N did feel bad for snapping at Gionna the way she did, but could anyone blame her?

She hovered outside of Joe’s hotel room for a moment, fingers hesitating as they curled into a fist to knock. What if he was just saying he wanted to see her out of the kindness of his heart? What if what they had really wasn’t that deep, it was just a pastime for him? What if—

This went on. Looping in her head. All the horrible what ifs that could be, instead of this is and we are. 

Through the door, she could hear the faint sound of commentary. Of course, he was watching his match back. Joe always did this. Rewatching every single bout, scrutinising each moment with the kind of intensity he usually reserved for the ring. She knew it was part of who he was, that drive to be better, to be perfect—but sometimes it felt like he was too hard on himself.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly before letting herself in. The door creaked open, revealing Joe sitting on the bed, his laptop sitting in front of him as one of his legs bent under him, the other with a foot planted firmly off the side. His thick, muscular frame dominated the space, even as he hunched forward, his focus locked on the screen. The muted light from the laptop bore shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp, bearded line of his jaw, his dark hair still damp from his own shower, draped effortlessly in front of his shoulders. 

He didn’t look up right away, too absorbed in the footage of his match against Baron Corbin from earlier in the night. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her quietly. For a second, she just stood there, watching him. Despite the rough night she’d had, the frustration from Gionna, there was something about seeing Joe like this—calm, focused—that made everything else seem distant, almost insignificant.

Finally, Joe’s gaze lifted, his dark eyes meeting hers, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a subtle smile. “Hey,” he greeted her with a gentle gravel.

“Hi,” she replied, trying to smile back but failing to hide the pout that tugged at her lips. She made her way over to the bed, sitting down next to him with a soft sigh. Her cotton shorts rode up slightly as she tucked her legs beneath her, her t-shirt slipping a little off her shoulder. She was far from dressed up, but Joe didn’t mind. He rarely cared about stuff like that.

Joe glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way her shoulders slumped and how she seemed to curl into herself, clearly upset. Without a word, he shifted, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. “What’s goin’ on?” His voice was warm, concerned, but still casual. He knew not to push too hard when she was in this kind of mood. He just had to coax it out of her gently.

Y/N sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Gi,” she muttered. “Still won’t stop talking about us. I know she’s just excited, but I’m over it.”

Joe’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes softening as he peered down at her. “She’s got no filter, huh?” He said it with a small smile, but there was an underlying severity to his tone.

“She means well,” she admitted, sighing as she leaned further into him. “It’s just hard, y’know? Keeping this thing with us under wraps. It feels… like I’m hiding something important. Like I’m keeping a secret about the best part of my life.”

Joe’s brows lifted sympathetically, his permanent smile seemingly dropping into something more serious. He tilted his head to nudge her gently, encouraging her to look at him. “Hey. Don’t let her or anyone else get in your head, alright? What we’ve got—it’s ours. Ain’t nobody else’s business.”

The way he said it, so firm yet so gentle, tightened that part of her chest only unlocked by him. Dark eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her feel seen. Safe.

“You’re too good at this.”

“Good at what?” he chuckled.

“Reassuring me. Being… you.”

Joe smirked, tilting his head toward his laptop. “You sure you’re not just mesmerised by my match?” he jested. “C’mon, tell me I look good out there.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though her smile widened. “You always look good. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Mm-hmm,” he teased, adjusting the laptop so she could see the screen better. “Watch this part, though—when I start takin’ it to Corbin.”

She watched as the footage unfolded. Joe crouched in the corner of the ring, his body coiled like a spring, eyes locked on Corbin with a sharp intensity. The camera zoomed in on his face, catching every detail: the subtle twitch of his nose, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips before curling into a sneer. It was pure dominance, calculated and commanding, and yet entirely effortless.

“I like when you do that,” Y/N said, just above a whisper.

“Do what?”

“That… thing with your nose,” she nodded down at the screen. “It’s…” She paused, cheeks warming as she tried to find the right word. “It’s hot, y’know?”

Joe’s laugh was warm and rich. “Oh, yeah? Gonna start takin’ notes on what moves work best for you, huh?”

Y/N groaned, burying her face against his shoulder. “Don’t make it weird, Joe.”

“I’m not makin’ it weird!” he protested, though his grin betrayed him. “You’re the one gettin’ all flustered talkin’ ‘bout my nose.”

“I’m never saying anything nice to you again,” she grumbled against his shoulder.

“Lies,” he said easily, sliding the laptop further down the bed. His arm around her tightened, pulling her closer against him. “You like me too much for that.”

It was that casual confidence, that playful ease, that made her stomach flutter. She was happiest when she was with him, but right now, the stress of the night still lingered, heavy in her chest. Joe must have noticed, because his free hand suddenly darted to her side, fingers brushing lightly against her ribs.

“Whatcu doin’ lookin’ so serious?” he asked, his tone teasing.

“Joe, don’t—” she started, but it was too late. His fingers pressed into her side again, this time with more intent, and a surprised laugh burst from her lips. “Stop it!”

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, even as he tickled her again, a grin spreading across his lips. “I don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Joe!” she yelped, twisting in his grip, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably. “I’m serious! Stop!”

“Say you forgive me for bein’ so good-lookin’, and maybe I’ll think about it,” he said, his own laughter mixing with hers.

She tried to wriggle away, but he was far too strong, his hands relentless as they sought out every ticklish spot he could find. Finally, with a burst of determination, she pushed against his chest, sending him sprawling back onto the bed. She followed, straddling his waist to pin him down, her damp hair tumbling over her shoulders and curtaining their faces.

Both laughter faded as they settled into the mattress, freezing in position as the moment shifted. Coming down from their giggle fits, Joe held his hands lightly on her hips, staring up at her with those dark, smouldering eyes.

And for a moment, neither of them uttered a word; the warmth of his body beneath hers, and the steady rhythm of their breathing spoke more than words could say. Apart from—

“I love you,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could second-guess herself.

Joe’s eyes softened, his expression melting into something tender, something unguarded. His hands strengthened on her hips a little, grounding her in place. “Say it again,” he murmured, almost reverently.

“I… love you,” she repeated, this time with an air of uncertainty.

His lips quirked up into the smallest, most genuine smile she’d ever seen. “Good,” he said softly, sliding his palms up to her waist. “‘Cause I was already there.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, thumb tenderly hovering over her cheek. “Now c’mere.”

Y/N didn’t move at first, her heart thundering in her chest as his words sank in. It was all suddenly so… intimate. Vulnerable. Slowly, she leaned down, her hands finding their place on his chest, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

Their lips eventually met, tentative at first—a gentle brush, as though they’d never kissed before. Warm and soft, his lips moved against hers with an unhurried rhythm. Like he wanted to savour every second. She tilted her head, angling the kiss as she pressed closer, her body meshing with his. 

A soft hum tickled his lips as she felt the rough sensation of his beard brushing against her skin. He caught the sound, pulling back just enough to smile against her mouth. “Feelin’ good, baby?” he murmured. A firmer kiss came as a response, hands sliding up his broad chest to cup around his jaw. Fingertips brushing along the edge of his beard as she marveled at the coarse contrast between it and the smooth surface of his skin. 

His hands moved up her back, tracing over the curve of her spine as a groan rumbled against her lips. The steady rise and fall of his chest pushed and pulled against hers, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. One of his hands slipped into her hair, his fingers massaging over the roots as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss.

It wasn’t sweet anymore—not entirely. There was an edge of urgency now, a hunger that made her toes curl and her breath hitch. Joe’s lips parted against hers, his tongue brushing softly against her bottom lip in a silent question. Without hesitation, she answered, opening up to him and letting him in.

The kiss grew deeper, hotter, with less measured movements and more instinctive reactions. 

Joe’s hand found her chin, thumb brushing lightly over her jaw as he tilted her head back. His tongue dipped teasingly into her mouth, the motion unhurried but precise, the gentle swirl making her head spin. Like he had something to prove, drawing soft sighs from her. When he pulled back just slightly, his lips barely a breath away from hers, his eyes were dark, his voice a husky whisper. 

“You know,” he hummed, the pad of his thumb gently caressing her cheek now, “The way you moved your body in the ring tonight—damn, baby. It’s somethin’ else.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, the heat almost too much to bear, but before she could even think about responding, he kissed her again. The way he moved his tongue… fuck, it spoke in whispers of how he’d use it elsewhere. How it would ripple and flutter between her thighs. 

And the smirk Joe stretched against her lips told her he knew exactly what he was doing. Cradling her jaw, he shifted under her, pulling her further down so she was almost completely laid out on top of him.

“I mean it,” he continued, kissing the corner of her mouth, trailing a path to her ear. “You’re somethin’ special in there. The way you had Trin locked up in that sequence? Beautiful. Smooth, confident… unstoppable.”

A combination of praise and delicate lips brushing over her skin, it had her heart pounding against her ribcage. “Joe,” she whispered, trembling ever so slightly as she gripped onto his shoulders.

“I watched every move you made,” he went on, grazing the sweet spot below her ear. His hand slipped to the back of her neck, holding her firmly in place. “That dropkick—clean as hell. And when you caught her with that suplex? Baby, you had me grinnin’ like an idiot. You’re so damn good, you don’t even see it.”

She couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, her nerves melting away under the warmth of his voice. “You’re just saying that beca–”

“No, I’m sayin’ it because it’s the truth,” he interrupted, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “I see you, Y/N. Every little thing you do in there. The way you control the match, the way you keep the crowd on edge, the way you… command that respect. It’s sexy as hell, baby.” He punctuated his compliment with a small squeeze on her hip.

But this was the thing with Joe. He didn’t just compliment her; he broke her down piece by piece, making her feel seen in a way that no one else ever had.

“Sometimes,” he carried on, lips curving into a teasing smile, “I catch myself watchin’ you more than I’m watchin’ the actual match. You got that fire. Makes it fuckin’ impossible to look away.”

His lips were back on hers before she knew it, and she felt herself melting under his touch. She kissed him back with everything she had; he made her feel powerful and vulnerable, all at once, and she couldn’t get enough.

“I think about you sometimes,” he admitted clumsily as they continued to kiss, their noses bumping against each other. “What it would be like to face you myself…” He nipped at her bottom lip. “The way you’d push me, make me work for it. I’d let you get me in one of those holds, just to see what you’d do with it.”

She giggled airily, sighing contently as his perfectly bulky arms wrapped completely around her, almost as though demonstrating his own hold in his own fantasy.

“And then,” he brushed his lips against hers as he spoke. “I think about what happens after. How I’d bring you back here, just like this, and remind you…” He suddenly used his whole body strength to flip them over, almost like an impromptu, semi-scoop slam but onto a plush mattress rather than a rough canvas mat. “...Who’s really in charge.”

She steadied herself by holding onto his shoulders as he chuckled softly at the small yelp that sounded from her throat. His hips careened forward as if on instinct, causing her thighs to tighten around him to keep him there.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his hand sliding down to pull one of her legs up and over his waist just so she could feel the blatant bulge below. “It’s what your fine ass does to me,” he momentarily got up on his knees just to swiftly pull his tank up and over his body, throwing it behind him, “Every damn time.”

Y/N couldn’t find the words to respond, not when his lips were on hers again, kissing her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Joe Anoa’i wasn’t just good with his words; he was good with everything, and he knew it.

Joe’s lips began their descent from her mouth, lingering at the corner of her lips before tracing the line of her jaw. His beard scratched against her skin, the sensation both grounding and electric. His hands framed her face for a moment, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as if to memorise her expression and keep it locked away for moments he couldn’t have her.

“Don’t even realise how perfect you are, mama,” he murmured against her skin, finding the spot beneath her ear. Pressing a kiss that had her body trembling in response. Teasing down the curve of her neck, the tip of his tongue tasted her cocoa butter-layered skin, slowly and deliberately, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When his mouth reached the junction of her collarbone, he paused.

“We don’t need to worry ‘bout nobody else, baby girl,” he whispered, inhaling her fresh scent, “I got you, you got me, we’re set.” He lifted his head, blinking down at her. “You understand me?”

Nibbling at her lips, she nodded, no longer suppressing the grin on her face. He made her so happy. She was like a school girl finally getting a chance with her crush; the butterflies never faded. They just came with him.

Joe shifted, accepting her wordless response as he found the edge of her shirt, tugging it up carefully. He paused, catching her gaze as he pushed the fabric away, his expression shifting tenderly, yet reverent all the same.

“Never get tired of seein’ this,” he teased, roaming his chocolate eyes over her newly exposed skin. Hands followed, calloused fingers tracing over her ribs in a feather-light touch. “Every inch of you is just… damn.”

Cupping the swells of her breasts, his thumbs brushed lightly over her hardening peaks, the barely-there touch pulling her back into an arch like a magnet.

“These,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, edged with hunger. “Perfect. Soft as hell, but strong. Just like you.” His mouth replaced one hand, his thick lips wrapping around her nipple as his tongue swirled in lazy circles. She gasped at the heat radiating from his mouth, and the way he teased and sucked at her with such fervour. His free hand moved to her other breast, pawing needily as he rolled her neglected nipple between his fingers, pinching gently before soothing the area with his mouth as he switched between the perfect mounds. The dual sensations were long awaited and long overdue, and she clutched at his shoulders as if to anchor herself.

Joe pulled back, his lips glistening as he looked up at her, a smirk playing on his face. “Love the way you react to me, baby…”

He continued his journey south, his lips pressing heated kisses down her torso as she liberally ran her fingers over and through his hair, each kiss accompanied by a whispered compliment.

“Your skin,” kiss, “soft as silk.” Another kiss. “This waist,” his hands gripped her sides, “drives me insane.” He paused just above the waistband of her shorts, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“Every part of you, baby. Perfect doesn’t even cover it.”

His hands travelled lazily over her bare thighs, his thumbs making slow circles; his eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, never left hers as he tugged at the waistband of her shorts, fingers hooked under the fabric.

“Been here before, huh?” he murmured with a small laugh. “But it never gets old, does it?”

She shook her head, tilting her head to the side as she watched him ease her shorts and panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside like they offended him. Even as he partook in something as simple, as trivial, as removing her clothes, she was sure she had never been so in love with anybody in her life.

“Damn, baby,” he almost groaned thickly, fingers ghosting back up her legs. “You already so wet for me.”

“Well, yeah, what did you expect?” she giggled softly, biting down on her lips as he spread her thighs wider, his thumb brushing lightly over her sensitive spot, eliciting a quiet gasp.

“That good, baby?” he coaxed lowly.

Her eyes were half-lidded as she nodded.

“I need words, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning down to kiss the inside of her thigh. “Gotta tell me what you want.”

“You,” she sighed, reaching down to move some of his hair out of the way. “I want you, Joe.”

“Yeah?” He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below her navel, his beard brushing against her skin. “You want my mouth, my fingers, my–”

“Yes,” she interrupted, fingers now threading through his hair, tugging lightly.

His chuckle was deep and rough. “That’s my girl.”

Without further teasing, he lowered his head and settled it directly between her legs; his tongue flicked out in a steady, purposeful stroke. Her back arched off the bed almost immediately as he worked her, his hands gripping her thighs firmly to keep her in place.

“God, you taste good,” he murmured, his lips gliding against her with expert ease. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up before swirling it around her clit, the way he knew would drive her wild.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and a soft moan escaped her lips. “Joe… fuck, yes...”

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed against her, the vibration causing her thighs to tremble under his hold. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yeah,” she nodded quickly, her chest rising up and down as goosebumps glittered her exposed skin. He gave her clit a quick, firm suck before flitting his tongue in a figure-eight pattern. “Feels so good, baby.”

Pleased with her answer, he continued, taking a deep breath through his nose as his tongue alternated between quick flicks and slow, languid circles. He even took it upon himself to move his head along with his tongue, tilting and angling himself to make sure she felt every bit of his passion. Whatever he could do to make this woman shake and quiver, he’d do it. Every motion was calculated, designed to bring her closer and closer to the edge.

“So damn responsive,” he said as he moved his head away only for a second, so he could lasciviously spit onto her pussy, just to watch as the combination of both their fluids ran down her swollen heat. “I could stay down here all fuckin’ night.”

“Please,” she whispered desperately.

“Please what, baby?” He kissed her clit, one of his hands releasing her leg so he could run his long, tepid fingers along her folds. “You want more?”

“Yes, Joe, please,” she begged, her hips bucking against his hand.

He fucking laughed, licking his lips. “Hold your leg up so Daddy can get all in that pussy…”

Shit.

She obliged immediately, holding onto the thigh he’d let go of, as he slid two of his fingers inside her, right down to the final knuckle so he could curl them up just at the right angle. Prodding at that rough spot deep inside. His mouth returned, swirling in tandem with the stroking of his fingers. The synchronisation had her crying out, her body tensing as he started to gently grind her hips upward toward his face.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice barely audible. “Ride my fuckin’ face, mama…” He practically buried his face, feral flicks of his tongue and fast-paced pumps of his fingers hurling her toward a release.

“Oh shit,” she gasped, pulling at his hair and digging her nails into her own thigh. “Fuck, right there, right there… D-don’t stop,” she panted.

He didn’t answer, just maintained the earth-shattering pace in which he set, despite the muscles straining in his bicep, the unsteady breaths leaving his nose, and the stinging in the roots of his hair as she continued to pull at it.

“Fuck, I’m cumming…” she whined, as her body shuddered, wave after wave of pure ecstasy coursing through her. Still, Joe didn’t let up, and he intended to draw out every last tremor. “Joe… holy shit, yes… feels so fucking good,” she groaned, her back arching painfully and her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head. 

When she finally collapsed back onto the bed, breathless and spent, he pulled back, his face glistening with her arousal. He grinned, looking like he’d just won the most priceless championship around.

“Damn,” he sighed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a masterpiece.”

“And you’re… ridiculous,” she laughed softly, still catching her breath.

“Ridiculously good, you mean,” he teased, crawling back up to hover over her. His lips found hers in a heated, unhurried kiss, letting her taste herself on him. She traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, smiling subtly into the kiss as she took in the characteristic coarseness of his beard. 

Their noses bumped together as their tongues met, and her free hand wandered over his tattooed shoulder, before making its way down his defined back. Muscles moved and tensed under her touch as she reached his lower back, tucking her fingers into the waistband of his own shorts. She tugged at them, letting them snap back against his skin and making him groan softly into her mouth.

“You tryna tell me somethin’?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, his lips curving into that signature smirk. “Or you just can’t keep your hands off me?”

“Maybe both,” she rallied, pushing gently on his shoulder to usher him to roll off of her. Instead of laying on his back, he leaned back against the headboard, his legs spread wide to accommodate the fully grown tent in his shorts.

She propped herself up on her hand, looking up at him, her lips brushing up his jaw and toward his ear. “You had your turn,” she whispered against him, letting her hand wander down his chest, tracing the hard ridges of muscle. “And now it’s my turn.”

Joe chuckled deeply, wrapping an arm around her midsection as she kissed along his cheek and toward his lips. All the while, her fingers were slipping down and under the elastic in the fabric of his shorts. His head tilted back against the headboard, peering down at her hand as she watched his reactions. His plump lower lip was sucked between his teeth, and it bounced back out deliciously when she had her hand wrapped around him, already warm, hard, and heavy in her grasp.

“Don’t waste no time, huh?” he muttered, turning his head to press a small kiss to her lips.

“Not when you look this fucking good,” she shot back, giving him a slow squeeze that made his hips lift off the bed slightly.

Joe laughed softly, but it quickly turned into a light hiss as she lowered her head and sank her teeth into where his broad shoulder met his thick neck. His other hand, previously resting on the bed next to him, came up to hold onto her arm, trailing his fingers down to where her hand was buried under his shorts.

“Lemme take these off, baby girl,” he hummed, giving her ass a tap with his other hand. She let him go, resting her palm on his toned stomach, spreading kisses of worship over his tribal tattoos as he pushed down and kicked off the intruding item of clothing from his legs. “There we go,” he drawled, cupping the side of her face and urging her to look at him. “Now I’m all yours, mama.”

“You’re always all mine, baby,” she smirked, slowly pecking his lips. But he didn’t let her go, easing her back into a deep and heated kiss.

“Can’t help myself,” he mumbled against her lips, “You’re just so fuckin’ sexy.”

Giggling, she forced them apart, as much as she would have loved to keep kissing him. “I promise you can kiss me all you want after I suck that dick, Daddy…”

Groaning, he sat back, one hand propped behind his head as he got comfortable. “Goddamn tease,” he muttered endearingly. “You gonna do more than tease, or you just gonna sit there lookin’ pretty?” he asked, his voice low and rough, taunting her just enough to make her smirk.

She rolled her eyes, but proceeded to move onto her knees, bending over him so she could kiss her way along his body. “You’re so annoying,” she whispered, pausing to trace the tip of her tongue across the defined lines all over him, years of hard work paying off in his build.

“Fuck,” Joe breathed, his hips shifting. “You already got me hard as hell, baby. You keep playin’, and I might forget how to be nice.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be nice,” she teased, moving her hair from her face as she came face to face with his free cock laying against his abdomen, thick, long, and already glistening at the tip. She licked her lips at the sight, the corner of her mouth curling up into a sly grin. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“And your ass loves it,” he shot back, his hand brushing over her hair as she opted to stay beside him rather than moving around to lay between his legs. “C’mon, baby. Show Daddy somethin’ special.”

“Am I not special enough, Daddy?” she feigned naivety, flipping her hair off of her shoulder so he had the perfect view of her delicately taking a hold of his rigid length. Looking him in the eye as her tongue slithered out for a quick taste. The muscles in his thigh tensed notably.

He reached out, smoothing the thin wisps of baby hairs on her forehead with his thumb. “So special, baby girl.”

Once again, those school-girl butterflies fluttered deep in her gut.

She started slowly, her tongue tracing the vein along the underside of his cock, her lips trailing gentle kisses down to the base. Her hand remained wrapped around him, following her mouth as she worked her way back up, flicking against the sensitive ridge just below the head.

Joe let out a low groan, his hand moving to rest on the back of her head. He didn’t push—he never pushed, unless she wanted that—but the weight of his large hand encouraged her, his fingers tangling in her hair as she began to take him deeper into her mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered thickly. “You know exactly what you’re doin’, huh?”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her lips shiny. “I’ve had practice,” she said playfully, albeit sultrily.

“Yeah, with me,” he replied, his smirk returning. “Ain’t nobody else got you doin’ it like this.”

Instead of answering, she shifted her position, getting up on all fours beside him so she had more control over her movements. The new angle let her lean in closer, her chest pressing against his body as she wrapped her lips around him again.

Hissing through his teeth, his free hand snaked up her thigh, before grabbing a handful of her ass. “Shit, baby,” he grunted, his head falling back. “Makin’ me lose my damn mind.”

Her movements became more deliberate once she felt his hand wandering all over her, her hand twisting as her tongue swirled around him. She used the flat of her tongue to press against the underside, her lips sliding down until she felt him at the back of her throat. Ignoring the pulsing and contracting as she swallowed him up.

“Damn,” he chuckled airily, his hand tightening in her hair. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this. Always takin’ care of me, makin’ me feel like a king.”

His praise sent a rush of heat through her, and she doubled down, letting her saliva roll down her chin and drip all over him, working him and making every movement slick and lewd. She knew he liked it when he could hear what she was doing, just as much as see it.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered hoarsely. “The way you’re usin’ that mouth… fuck.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief once she noticed him eyeing her ass. “Good,” she said breathlessly. “I like seeing you like this.”

She arched her back tantalisingly, smiling to herself when he couldn’t resist slipping his hand back between her legs, a new sheen of nectar coating her centre.

“Fuck…” he sighed. “Get over here, baby, Daddy needs his pussy again.”

Without missing a beat, and without giving her a chance to comply herself, he used all his strength to shimmy down the bed and drag her over so she had no choice but to straddle his face. She barely registered him shoving his face back into her pussy, slurping and lapping at her again until a specific twitch in her clit woke her up, and she resumed her own movements on his cock.

She steadied herself by holding onto one of his thighs, her head bobbing up and down on his length hungrily, little moans and whimpers vibrating from within her throat as he matched her ferocity and confidence.

Wrapping his arms around her legs, he pawed at her ass, shutting his eyes as he enjoyed every second, every drop. Landing a few slaps, even losing an iota of control when his hips rocked up toward her mouth.

He growled, the sound deep and primal. “Yeah, baby,” he encouraged, sucking at her folds and kissing her clit. “Just like that…”

She didn’t. She let herself get lost in it, in his taste, his warmth, the essence that dripped in pearls from his tip. But she had to stop when she felt him twitch against her tongue, lifting her head and giving him one last squeeze. “Not yet,” she said.

“Maybe not for me,” he dismissed, yanking her further up. “Turn around.”

Already dishevelled, she did as she was told, now straddling his face in a way that allowed them both to see each other.

“Wanna make me cum again, Daddy?”

“You know it, baby girl.”

She eagerly rode his face, thanks to the encouragement from his hands on her hips, rocking and writhing her way to another orgasm he so desperately wanted to give her. And he looked so beautiful doing it; alternating between intense glares up her body and delicately shutting his eyes as he feasted. Both ways, she saw his cheeks moving and the growing layer of her essence glittering his facial hair.

Grabbing onto the headboard, arching her back, panting and crying out. Something about a second time was just so intense, so invigorating. And when it did finally come, she swore she saw stars.

He’d literally flipped her onto her back, without parting from her pussy. As if he were countering a pin attempt in the ring. Him, sat up with his arms fully enclosed around her centre as the only thing keeping her propped up on the bed was her upper back and her head.

Her entire body went limp in his hold as the aftershocks of her second orgasm shuddered through her. She even had to tap his arm to let him know he could stop.

Their chests heaved as he gently let her go, giving her room to shimmy back, but not too far that he couldn’t grab at her again. He shifted his position, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed and pulling her up with him. He planted her on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, the heat between their bodies nearly unbearable. Hands resting firmly on her thighs, his thumbs curling her plush flesh.

“You good, baby?” he murmured with a gravelly lilt, dripping with affection and lust all at once.

She nodded, her hands bracing on his shoulders. “More than good.”

He grinned, the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening as he slid one hand around to cup the back of her neck. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He leaned in, grazing her lips in a gentle kiss before dropping to her throat, nipping at the sensitive skin there. Meanwhile, his other hand drifted down, his fingers finding her entrance, prodding softly and feeling the slick left behind.

“You’re so ready for me… fuckin’ drippin’ for me.”

Her whole body experienced a white-hot flush under his gaze, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. He was so magnetic. Pulling her in. Making her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She wasn’t quite prepared for how intense the stretch of his dick would be when he finally guided her down slowly onto him. It was overwhelming, and she let out a soft gasp, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

“Atta girl,” Joe coaxed, soothing her with his rumble. “Take your time, mama, I gotchu…”

Inch by inch, she sank into him, adjusting by the second to the fullness. His hands stroked over her thighs, and up to her hips, brushing comforting circles into her muscles.

“I-I always end up forgetting,” she breathed out, resting her forehead against his, “Just how… b-big you are.”

He hummed, kissing her nose and then her cheek. More than patient as she eased herself into a completely seated position, his length fully encased in her heat. They both paused, the stillness amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“Look at you,” he smiled, “Takin’ me so good.”

Her breath hitched, and she leaned in, capturing his lips in a steady kiss. As their mouths moved together, she began to roll her hips, gauging which angle had him stroking her just the right way. When they both groaned into the kiss, they knew they’d found the right rhythm.

“Yeah, just like that,” he sighed huskily, squeezing her hips and guiding her movements.

“Joe…” she moaned as he dropped his head to her shoulder, tilting his head to bury it in her neck. Sinewy arms clasped around her body, holding her flush against him as hot, wet kisses were planted on her flushed skin. Fingernails dug into her, gently, as she rocked and grinded against him.

“Fuck, I love you,” he grunted against her neck, his hold on her getting progressively tighter and tighter. Sliding his hands back down and under her thighs, he stood up from the bed with her in his arms, turning and planting her on her back, sliding out of her in the process.

Like a lovesick puppy, she reached out for him and whimpered at the loss of contact, but he was quick to shush her and guide her further onto the bed, crawling over her in the process.

“Leati Joseph Anoa’i, if you don’t—”

“Shh, I know,” he interrupted with a grin, leaning down over her to nip at her jaw. “So needy.” He shook his head with an amused smirk. “Got the full name treatment too, damn,” he muttered, shifting back onto his knees and pulling her hips up with him. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, but he shook his head again, the smirk remaining. 

“Nah,” he said, moving to hold onto the back of her knees. “I want these,” he started to guide her legs up, “Up here,” and he settled her calves on his shoulders.

Her breath stuttered as she complied, relaxing her legs over his broad frame. The position left her completely open to him, her body arched in a way that sent a deep, delicious ache through her core.

He leaned forward, folding her nearly in half, his body pressing hers into the mattress as his mouth found her neck. “You always look so perfect like this,” he murmured. “You just made for me, baby girl…”

Lowering his hand between them, he wrapped his hand around his girth, teasing the blunt head along her slick. She whimpered, careening her hips up the best she could in the position she was in, but to no avail.

“Joe,” she whispered desperately.

“What’s wrong, mama?” he cooed, tilting his head to the side. “You need somethin’?”

“You…” she whined, reaching up to grip his forearms. “I need you to fuck me… Please, baby, I need it so bad.”

“Yeah? That pussy need fillin’ up, huh?” he taunted, dragging the head of his cock downward towards her entrance, just barely pushing it in and feeling her tighten already. “Greedy ass pussy…”

With a low grunt, he finally pressed into her, filling her up inch by inch until he was settled deep inside with nowhere left to go. 

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, goddamn,” he sighed, bringing his hand up to rest it beside her head, propping himself up over her. His other hand stroked over her hair, cupping her face. “Feels like heaven every time.”

Lips parted, her nails lightly scratched up his arms as she took a deep breath, savouring the feeling of them intertwined. “S-So… full, Joe.”

“I know,” he mumbled, gyrating his hips to test the waters. Once he felt the familiar flutter and pulsing around his cock, he smiled crookedly, having to fight his eyes’ urge to fall shut.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, encouraging him to keep moving.

“Don’t worry, I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby girl,” he promised, his voice rough with restraint. He pulled back almost completely before sliding back in, his pace slow but deep, each thrust hitting a spot deep inside that made her cry out.

Shifting his angle slightly, he adjusted his knees for leverage before leaning into her. “How’s that, huh?” he gruffly asked, rotating his hips. She inhaled sharply, his hot tip stroking her deepest spot and sending electric shockwaves of ecstasy from her core. “That where you want me?”

“Yes,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tugged him down for a kiss, despite the small stretch along the back of her legs as her knees got closer and closer to her shoulders.

Joe didn’t just kiss her—he devoured her, his tongue plunging into her mouth in time with his thrusts. Both hands now gripped her thighs, pulling her tighter against him, his movements growing more purposeful by the second. Skin on skin, lewd noises fuelling their desire.

“You take me so good,” he mumbled against her lips in admiration. “Every time, you take all of me.”

She could barely form a response, completely drunk on dick. The way her body responded to him felt almost primal. Hips rising as if he could get any deeper. Nails leaving red streaks across his shoulder. 

“Look at you,” Joe moaned, his tone dripping with pride. He pulled back a bit, his hands trailing down her legs before he unhooked them from his shoulders. “Come here.”

Before she could process his words, he flipped them again, pulling her back on top of him. She straddled his lap, her thighs spread wider over his hips as he looked up at her, his hands guiding her to sink down onto him again.

He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “You look fuckin’ perfect up there…”

Bracing her hands on his chest, her fingers curled against the hard planes of muscle as she started to rock her hips. The new position let her control the rhythm, her hips rolling in a way that had him gripping her thighs, his fingers digging into the plush flesh.

“So beautiful…” His hands slid up her sides, pawing at her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her stiffened peaks. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy.”

She leaned forward, her hair falling around them as she kissed him, their bodies grinding and rippling together in tandem. 

His hands felt large and intimidating on her ass, pulling and pushing her, guiding her motions as he thrust up to meet her. But it seemed the more she rode him, the quicker her pace got, the more she whimpered and moaned into his mouth and against his lips, the control she had just moments ago slipped further and further away.

At this point, her movements were fruitless as he was set on throwing his hips into her from below. Each collision knocked the wind out of her, her moans strangled and reverberating in her chest.

“You like that, huh?” he growled. “Like when I fuck you like this?”

Her hands were still splayed over his chest for balance, even though she wasn’t sure how much longer that strength would last. “J-Joe—oh my god—”

“Nah, nah,” he interrupted, hands grabbing at her waist hard enough to make her gasp. “Don’t you lose it yet. Look at me.” His voice took on more of a commanding tone, with a rougher edge. A kind of energy that only came out during times like these… and in the ring.

She forced her head forward, meeting his smouldering gaze. His dark eyes locked on hers, and she saw the way his lips curved into a wicked grin, his ego swelling at the way she was falling apart above him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised, seductive and taunting. “Ride your Daddy… Show me what you got.”

Her hips stuttered at his words, nails raking down his chest in response. “J…” she tried to moan his name out of pure instinct, but a harsh slap to her ass shocked it out of her. Crazy of her to lose track of who he was when buried deep inside of her; how she must refer to him.

“Naw, baby, you been so good until now,” he mocked, raising an eyebrow. “You been talkin’ right, don’t stop that shit now.”

“I-I know,” she stuttered, nodding quickly as the sting from the slap melted into her skin, becoming a searing heat that encouraged her further. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“It’s okay, baby girl, just don’t upset Daddy like that again, ‘kay?” he smoothed a dangerous hand over the side of her head, fingers itching to grab at her harshly. 

“Yes, Daddy…”

What followed was a jarring thrust upward, so jarring in fact that it had eyes rolling back and her nails digging completely into his chest.

“That’s the spot,” he groaned, “Take it baby, don’t you dare close them pretty eyes, look at me.” With his order, he grabbed her face, angling it down so she had no choice but to look him in the eye as he drove up into her, meeting her hips with an unmatched vigour. “All mine…” he grumbled under his breath with clenched teeth. Digging his heels into the bed for further leverage. “Fuckin’ made for this dick…”

She whimpered, her body quaking under his control. “I am,” she breathed, her words spilling out between gasps. “Made for you.”

“Damn right, you are.”

Suddenly, he shifted, rolling them over again in one fluid motion. Back hitting the mattress, her legs spread wide as Joe hovered above her, his large frame looming, completely dominating.

“You wanna get fucked like a good girl, huh?” he growled with unbridled lust. “I’m gon’ give you everythin’, baby, you just gotta take it.”

“Yes,” she cried, high-pitched, desperate.

Without warning, he grabbed the backs of her thighs, pulling her hips up to meet him as he bucked into her, harder, deeper, each movement rougher than the last. Her yelps, cries, and moans filled the space of the hotel room, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing in the air.

“Fuckin’ tight as fuck,” he groaned, his head dropping to her neck as he nipped and kissed. “Grippin’ me like you don’t wanna let go.”

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her hands clawing at his back. “Don’t stop, Daddy.”

“You think I’m stoppin’?” he shot back, lifting her legs higher and pressing them completely into her shoulders. “Nah, this shit too good.”

The angle was deeper now, hitting areas she didn’t even know existed, or that could be hit. Crescent moon shapes were left along his skin, peppering his shoulders, arms, and all the way down his back—complimenting the long red lines of untamed energy she unleashed on him throughout the night.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, his pace relentless now. “Wanna hear that scream… Let the whole damn world know who owns you.”

She panted erratically, letting out moans and whines, whimpers and cries, punctuated by screams only heard when this man had his way. “Only you, Daddy, fuck yesss… right fucking there, baby.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, a hand sliding down to grab her ass, pulling her against him with each powerful thrust. “So fuckin’ perfect. This pussy—” He punctuated the word with a deep stroke that made her yelp loudly. “Mine. Say it.”

“Yours,” she nodded, her voice breaking. “This pussy’s all yours, Daddy.”

Joe’s lips found hers, swallowing her cries as his hand slid between their bodies. His calloused thumb found her hot, swollen clit, circling it in tight motions that had her spasming around his rock hard cock.

“I can feel you, baby, that tight lil pussy tryin’ to squeeze me…” he mumbled against her lips. “You’re gonna cum, huh? Gon’ give Daddy that nut?”

“Shit, yes,” she sighed, her thighs trembling and tears forming in her eyes. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you’re gonna make me cum again,” she continued to ramble, her hand firmly on the back of his head to keep him there. 

“Then let Daddy feel it, sweetheart, cum all over Daddy’s dick…”

She shuddered, every muscle in her body tensing as her ears started ringing. The knot in her abdomen was on the precipice of snapping.

“Oh God, it’s gonna be messy, Daddy,” she said through a deep, guttural groan, his forehead forcing her head down onto the pillow. 

“Good… I want that nut all over me…”

That was it.

The floodgates, literally, were open. And she swore she’d never had such an intense, mind-numbing, out-of-body, orgasm in her entire life. Her pussy spasmed and clenched around him, her clit throbbed at an almost worrying rate, and it seemed the entire room spun. Every time he pulled out, she gushed all over him, the effects amplifying with every careen back inside. 

“Damn,” he bit under his breath, trying to glance down at the mess she’d made as she cried and screamed. All because of him. He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t stroke his ego to an extreme degree. 

Once he knew she was on the tail end of her release, his movements returned to their primal state, his focus entirely on chasing his own. Her body, pliant and spent beneath him, was his to take. Watching her back arch and her body write, he held her firmly in place. The slick, heated connection between them was everything, and he let out a roar of sorts as he slammed into her, driven by nothing but need.

“Goddamn,” he growled, rising to his knees. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her into him as he fucked her weightless body. “Look at the fuckin’ mess you made… such a good girl f’me.”

She could barely feel anything at this point, other than immense satisfaction at seeing her man get off using her. 

“That’s it, Daddy,” she whispered softly, encouraging, despite her trembling form. “Take what you need… Use me. I love when you use me like this…”

Biting harshly onto his lips, he moaned deeply, the filthy edge in her voice sparking all the feral within his soul. “Yeah? Love bein’ Daddy’s good girl, huh?” he muttered roughly through exertion, loving the way she still jolted and twitched in her overstimulation. “Love being my little plaything?”

“Yes,” she moaned breathily. “I love it…”

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with exhaustion and yearning, and she reached for him, her hands skimming up his arms, his veins bulging and prominent under her touch as he grabbed her tightly. “Come on, Daddy,” she invited with a sultry lilt. “Wherever you want…”

The filthy promise in her voice made his stomach tighten, his body aching with the need to let go. Then, with a predatory gleam in his eye, he pulled out, crawling further up her body and planting one foot flat on the mattress, giving him some leverage. He wrapped a hand around his red hot cock, pumping himself as he hovered over her, eyeing every inch of her body.

“You want it, sweetheart?” he asked through a shaky huff. “You want this nut? Don’t worry, baby, imma give you it all…”

“Yes,” she moaned up at him, watching as his long fingers squeezed around the shiny tip, grunting as translucent pearls dripped down onto his hand. “Please, Joe… I need it, baby, I need you to cum for me.”

“Where, baby? You want it on these perfect fuckin’ tits, huh? Your pretty face? Tell me, Y/N, tell me where you need Daddy’s nut…”

“Wherever you want, Daddy, I just wanna feel it all over me.”

His jaw tightened as he pumped his hand faster, biceps straining, eyes locked on her breasts, her stomach, the curve of her thighs as she kept them apart, allowing him the gorgeous view of her swollen, used pussy. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned unsteadily. “Never lettin’ your ass go, you hear me? You’re mine.”

“Uh-huh,” she agreed, nodding her head as she slid her hands up to his sweat-sheened chest. “Always yours. Show me… mark me. Ruin me for everyone else.”

With a sharp, loud moan, his body tensed. “Fuck, here it is, baby…” And with a shudder, he spilled over, cock pulsing as spurts of his release coated her breasts, some landing on her torso. He leaned over, one hand on the pillow beside her head, his breath ragged, watching as his load glistened on her skin.

“Hmm…” he grumbled, lips caught between his teeth as he breathed out his nose. He gave his cock a final squeeze before reaching out to brush his fingers through the mess he’d made, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she pulled his wrist up so she could clean off his fingers with her tongue. “So goddamn beautiful.”

Her lips curled into a soft smile as he gazed up at him in adoration, her hands caressing his arms, fingertips stopping to massage small circles into the muscles. “And all yours,” she said quietly and steadily, despite the intensity between them.

Mirroring her smile, he leaned down to kiss her deeply, his hand cupping her face. “Damn right,” he mumbled. “All mine.”

Joe lingered over her, his thumb brushing her heated cheek as her chest rose and fell, still catching her breath. For a moment, neither of them really moved, their foreheads lightly touching as the afterglow settled over them like a warm blanket. Her hands slid up his arms to rest on his shoulders, her grip soft but steady, as though letting him go too soon might break the spell.

He kissed her forehead first, then the tip of her nose, before finally pressing his lips to hers again—slowly this time, not the all-consuming kind of kiss they’d been sharing, but something sweet, gentler, filled with quiet adoration. She smiled against his mouth, reluctant to let him pull away.

“I’ll be right back,” Joe murmured, his voice low and gravelly as he pecked her nose. “Stay here, baby. Lemme grab somethin’ to clean you up.”

She pouted, her arms tightening around his neck. “Don’t go yet,” she whispered breathily.

Joe chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “You’re clingy now, huh? What happened to the girl who wanted me to use her?” he teased, arching a brow.

A playful glare crossed her face as she lightly smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t mean that literally,” she retorted, her lips twitching into a smile. “You’re the one who gets all… extra.”

“Extra?” Joe repeated, pretending to be offended as he leaned closer, their noses brushing again. “You love how extra I am.”

She giggled, her face warm as she tried to pull him back down. “Yeah, I do. So maybe stay here a little longer.”

Joe sighed dramatically, but the affection in his gaze betrayed him. “You lucky you cute,” he muttered, stealing another kiss before gently untangling himself from her. She made a sound of protest as he stood up, the bed dipping slightly as his weight shifted, but he gave her a quick wink. “Two seconds, gorgeous. Don’t go anywhere.”

She watched him walk toward the bathroom, her gaze lingering on the broad lines of his back and the way his shoulders flexed with every step.

As he disappeared into the bathroom, she sank back into the pillows, the cool sheets soothing her overheated skin. Her legs still felt like jelly, and a satisfied hum escaped her as she stretched out. The faint sound of water running reached her ears, and she smiled to herself, still basking in the sanctuary of the moment.

When he returned, towel in hand, the sight of him standing there—naked, hair tousled, a seemingly permanent little smile on his face—made her heart tumble in her chest. He was everything: a force of nature, her safe space, and somehow, her biggest weakness.

“Alright, spread ‘em,” he joked, holding up the towel like he was about to snap it like a gym coach. “Let’s get you sorted.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, here you are,” he grinned, settling on the edge of the bed and gently wiping her down. His touch was grateful, almost reverent, as he cleaned her skin. Never rushing. Taking his time to make sure she was comfortable.

“You alright?” he asked softly, glancing up at her as he worked. “I didn’t go too hard, did I?”

“No,” she assured him. “You were perfect. As always.”

His lips twitched, and he leaned down to kiss her knee before tossing the towel aside. “Damn right,” he said. “But you’re not half bad yourself, baby.”

“Not half bad?” she repeated, rolling her eyes and shoving his shoulder. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Grinning, he pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her. “Fine. You’re amazing. Incredible. The best thing that’s ever happened to me. Happy now?”

Getting there,” she teased, resting her head against his chest. “But keep going. I like hearing it.”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Greedy,” he hummed affectionately. “But yeah, I’ll keep tellin’ you. ‘Cause it’s true.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the quiet hum of their breathing and the AC filling the room. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something missing from the bed and stifled a chuckle.

“Joe,” she said, half amused, half exasperated. “Your laptop.”

He frowned, glancing over his shoulder to see his laptop lying on its side by the bed. “Aw, hell,” he muttered, carefully shifting her off of him before reaching down to pick it up. “If this thing’s broken, I’m blaming you.”

She laughed, watching as he flipped it open and checked the screen. “It’s not my fault your balance sucks,” she pointed out. “Maybe you shouldn’t be throwing me around so much.”

He shot her a look, raising an eyebrow. “Your ass wasn't complainin’ fifteen minutes ago,” he said, smirking as he tested the keys. “And it’s fine. Indestructible, just like me.”

“Modest, too,” she said dryly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Obviously,” he replied, setting the laptop on the nightstand before climbing back into bed. “Now, where were we?”

She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “We were talking about how amazing I am.”

Joe cackled lightly, wrapping an arm around her. “Nah, we were about to talk about how much trouble you’re gonna be when we go public.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she lifted her head to look at him. “You… want to go public?” she asked, her nerves taking her voice.

Meeting her gaze, his eyelids dropped. Serious. But warm. “Baby, I don’t care who knows,” he sighed. “I meant it when I said it’s nobody else’s business, but if you’re ready to tell the world, then so am I. Let ‘em know you’re mine.”

Her heart swelled, and he leaned in to kiss him, her lips lingering against his. “I’m so fucking ready,” she murmured with intent. “I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. I just… I want us to be real. Out in the open.”

He nodded, brushing hair from her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said simply.

She smiled, letting her weight go against him. “We’re gonna have to tell Vince, you know.”

Joe let out a quiet laugh. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll have a field day with that.”

“You think he’ll care?”

“Not as long as we’re professional,” he shrugged. “But if anyone’s got a problem with it, they’re gonna have to deal with me.”

“Big talk,” she teased, her lips curving into a playful grin.

“You know it,” he rallied. “Besides, who’s gonna mess with the Big Dog’s girl?”

“The Big Dog’s girl, huh?” She felt her body flushing all over again.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, pulling her closer. “You’re mine, baby. And now, everyone’s gonna know it.”

She let out a content sigh against his chest, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the heat of his skin, and everything to do with how he made her feel—soul to soul.

As they settled under the sheets, he grabbed his laptop again, powering it on. “What do you wanna watch?”

Tilting her head to see his laptop screen, she nestled the side of her face into his pec. “Anything. As long as I don’t have to get up for the rest of the night.”

“Good answer.”

As he searched title after title on Netflix, she glanced up at him, her heart full. For the first time, Y/N felt completely at ease, knowing that they were going forward as one—no more hiding, no more pretending. 

Nowhere else she’d rather be.

And just everything she’d ever wanted.

[sugardollcurse]

Could I request an almost comfort fic of the reader getting fed up with period-typical sexism? like george is the quiet one, ringo's the funny one, but she's the GIRL beatle. that's it. getting the "who is she dating if not the boys, what a pretty face, must be hard working with all those handsome men!" kinda questions from reporters. it wears at her over the course of tour and maybe she kinda loses it a tad & goes off one night after a bit too much at a bar or in the safety of her hotel room & one of the boys listens & comforts her? maybe john since he seems the one who'd take the piss outta someone the most so it's kind of a (welcome) shock to the reader?

𝑎𝑖𝑛’𝑡 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡? | john lennon x fem! reader

𐙚 contains; casual misogyny, microaggressions

𐙚 summary ; you're in the beatles to tour and play music, just like the others. everyone else seems to think you’re there to decorate the stage.

𐙚 note ; SORRY FOR THE LONG NOTE!! firstly, oh god i love this so much THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA. secondly, this isn't really an x reader.. this can be seen as platonic or romantic but i'm just gonna call it an x reader anyway :b.. LASTLY sorry for not posting i got real busy

You were always a Beatle.

You were there in Hamburg. In boots and sweat and static, on stages so small your guitar neck hit the cymbals if you weren’t careful. You were there when Stu left and Pete got sacked and George got his black eye. You carried amps down alleys. You pawned your own coat so Paul could replace a snapped string. You bled on your frets same as the rest.

And yet.

And yet.

“Tell us, sweetheart,” the reporter said, smile gleaming like he thought it could distract from the knife in his tone. “What’s it like being the only girl in the band?”

You forced your smile. Tucked your hands into your blazer sleeves so the knuckles didn’t show white.

“About the same as being the tallest or the shortest,” you said coolly, leaning into the mic. “You get asked about it a lot, and it doesn’t really matter.”

There was a ripple of laughter. Polite. Controlled. But the reporter only grinned wider, flipping through his cue cards like he was looking for a better angle.

“What about keeping up?” he tried. “Is it hard, being surrounded by such strong male personalities?”

“I am a strong male personality,” you deadpanned.

The room tittered again. Flashbulbs popped. One of the boys muttered “Christ almighty” under his breath, not bothering to hide his eye roll.

The reporter floundered. You took the moment to cross your legs, one boot over the other, spine iron-straight in your chair, and turned slightly toward the next question, any question, anything else.

But it never ended, not really.

It was 1964. You were on top of the world. And still, for every musical question tossed to the lads, you got three about your hair. Your clothes. Your legs. Your temperament.

It didn’t matter how many records you broke. It didn’t matter that your name was on the writing credits, that you'd taught John how to sing harmony before he knew how to hold a tune sober. They still reduced you to lipstick and ankles in every newspaper column.

You didn’t want to be a symbol. You wanted to be a musician.

But somehow, somewhere between your first album cover and your second world tour, you became THE GIRL BEATLE, capitalized and caged. No matter how many harmonies you nailed, no matter how often your voice rang loudest at the end of a verse, they kept putting you in italics. You were the asterisk in the story.

━━

Here you are again.

The lights are too hot and the studio audience is buzzing like a hive on uppers. Someone just powdered your nose to death and you can feel the makeup clogging in your skin like guilt. Paul’s beside you, flashing dimples, the human embodiment of media training. George is fiddling with the hem of his cuff, eyes sharp and half-lidded, already a continent away. Ringo’s grinning wide, shaking his foot in time with the house band’s little jingle as they come back from commercial.

John leans into your shoulder and mutters, “Smile or they’ll think you’re on the rag.”

You elbow him in the ribs, just hard enough to make him cough-laugh. The host’s voice cuts in.

“We’re back with the Fab Five,” he says, the smile in his voice so smug it might as well be patted on your head. “The Beatles are joining us in-studio tonight after their record-breaking run across the U.S. Gentlemen, and of course, lady, welcome back.”

You tilt your head. Offer your best showbiz smirk. John puts two fingers up behind your head like rabbit ears. The audience laughs. You don’t.

“So tell us, what’s life like on tour now that you’ve all grown up a bit?”

Safe one. Paul fields it, as usual. Talks about hotels and plane food and missing home. You hear your own name once, something about how you snore loudest. John snickers. You don’t bother correcting it.

“Do you fight?”

John leans forward, eyes gleaming. “Christ, yeah. Like dogs.”

“Who’s the worst?”

John points at George. George points at Paul. Paul points at you. Ringo shrugs and says, “We all are.”

You zone out after that. Your eyes drift toward the stage lights, too-bright and low enough to burn. You stare at Paul’s shoe tapping.

You feel like wallpaper.

Your smile stays on. You rest your hands in your lap. You wait, and wait, and wait, and-

“And you?”

You blink.

The interviewer has turned to you. The camera, too. It’s your face now, centre frame.

“We never hear much about your personal life,” he says. Friendly. Too friendly. “No scandals, no drama, what’s your secret?”

Your stomach drops. Not because it’s a surprise. Because you knew.

Never a question about your pedalboard. Your vocal layering. Never about the setlist changes you helped write.

It’s always this.

You look at him. You look at the audience.

You smile.

“Don’t have one,” you say. “A secret.”

The man tilts his head. “No heartbreak hiding behind the lyrics?”

There it is again, the implication. That if you’re writing, it must be about a man. If it’s good, it must be emotional. If it hurts, it must be true.

“I write what sounds good,” you say.

“Come on,” he presses, gentle now. “The fans want to know. Is there someone special?”

You could lie. You could dodge. You could make a joke.

Instead, you nod.

“There’s never someone special,” you say flatly.

The audience laughs.

He shifts, realizing it’s not the answer he wanted. You hold his gaze. Let the silence drag half a second too long.

He clears his throat. “No jealousy, then? Touring with four men? That never gets in the way?”

Your smile sharpens, but your tone doesn’t. “Why would it?”

“I mean, it’s an unusual dynamic, isn’t it?”

You glance at John. Then Ringo. Then George and Paul.

“No,” you say. “It’s just five people playing music.”

He blinks.

There’s a little awkward chuckle in the audience. Someone coughs.

The interviewer fumbles. “Well, we certainly love seeing you all still so close, after all this time. The chemistry’s still there!”

John claps you on the back, leaning into the mic. “Careful, she bites.”

Eventually, lights down. Cut called. Laughter dims like it’s been switched off too, all part of the broadcast package.

You’re on your feet before anyone else moves, already ducking behind the backdrop with a sharp turn and a clipped “cheers” to the host. No one stops you.

Backstage smells like coffee and varnish. Hot lights, gum stuck under risers, someone’s coat left crumpled on a chair. You shove through it, past a gaggle of sound techs and the production assistant trying to hand out paper schedules like they’re holy scripture.

You find a blank bit of wall. You lean your shoulder to it and close your eyes, just for a second. One, two, three.

You could scream.

Not even because of him, the interviewer. Not even the way he asked the question, as if it were innocent, as if it were new. But because you’d known.

Same story, different station. You’d bled on stage for years with these boys, wrote verses, played until your fingers blistered, held the line when things were falling apart, and what they really wanted to know was if you fancied one of your bandmates. Like a schoolgirl.

You crack your knuckles. Flex your jaw. Think about how long it’ll be until you can just lie down. Maybe cry, if you can stomach the quiet long enough.

Footsteps. Familiar ones.

You keep your eyes shut.

“Here,” John says. Voice quieter now, not for a camera.

You open your eyes and glance sideways. He’s holding out a boiled sweet like it’s an olive branch. Already a bit warm from his pocket. Palm open.

You take it wordlessly. Drop it in your mouth.

He doesn’t offer one of his usual quips, no jokes about you breaking hearts or biting heads off.

He stands beside you instead, quiet for once, just sort of… there. The kind of presence you’d normally appreciate if the ache behind your eyes wasn’t threatening to drag you under.

You press the candy between your molars. Let it sit there. Hot and sour.

After a long minute, someone calls his name. A stagehand, urgent, from the dressing rooms.

John looks toward the voice, then back to you. Pauses. Hesitates.

“You good?” he asks, a little awkward now.

“Yeah,” you lie.

He gives a nod. Not believing you, not pushing. Then he’s gone.

You exhale, finally, and sag just a little where you stand.

⸻

You don’t remember much of the bar that night, only that it was dim and loud and the drinks came faster than you’d meant them to. Some industry bloke bought a round after the taping, and you’d gone along because what else was there to do? Return to your hotel and stare at the ceiling?

You thought maybe the warmth in your chest would dull it all, the endless performance, the pretty little corners they kept boxing you into.

But somewhere between the second and fourth drink, something flipped.

You weren’t even that drunk, not properly. But tired. So fucking tired. The kind of tired you could drown in.

You don’t remember what you said. Something about stupid questions. Something about your name being in the top ten for eight straight weeks, and no one asking how you did it.

Maybe your voice got loud. Maybe your hands moved too much. Maybe the man at the table next to yours made a comment under his breath and you heard it.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that something in you cracked.

You remember standing. That part is clear. Your chair scraping back hard on the tile, your hand flat on the table as you leaned in, pointing with the same fingers you’d written chords with.

You remember saying I am not your fucking joke.

You remember silence after. Heavy.

Then someone pulling your coat over your shoulders, guiding you outside.

Back in the hotel, your breath comes in sharp little pulls. Your key doesn’t go in on the first try. Or the second. By the time you slam the door behind you, you’re shaking, half from the chill, half from the way your adrenaline’s dropping off a cliff.

Your jacket hits the floor. Your boots thud one by one against the wall.

You’re in the bathroom before you realize it. Leaning against the sink. Staring at your own face in the mirror.

Your lipstick’s smudged. There’s a mascara smear near your temple. Your collar’s askew.

You look like you’ve been in a fight.

You brace your hands on the porcelain. Inhale once, deep. Exhale hard.

You’re not going to cry. You’re not.

You’re fine. You’re-

A knock at the door.

You freeze.

No one was supposed to follow you.

The knock comes again, softer this time.

You don’t answer.

“Oi,” a voice says, muffled. “It’s me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. It's John.

“Open up, will you?” he says. “I know you’re in.”

You sigh. Wipe your face once, rough. Then cross the room and open the door.

He’s standing there with a look that’s, well, not pity. Not amusement, either. Just… knowing. Too knowing.

“Someone called the hotel,” he says. “Said you gave a bloke an earful.”

You lift your chin. “Didn’t touch him.”

“I know.”

You stare at each other a second. Neither of you says what you’re both thinking: But you wanted to.

He steps inside without asking. You let him.

Doesn’t go far. Just leans against the desk chair, arms folded. He doesn’t sit properly. Just sprawls in the desk chair like it’s his own flat, one leg slung over the other, arms crossed over that awful printed shirt he’s had on since he got back.

You stay near the bed, arms wrapped around yourself like that’s the only thing keeping your ribs from caving in.

You exhale, long and slow. “I’m so fuckin’ tired, John.”

He lifts his brows. “Yeah. I clocked that when you nearly laid into that twat in the booth.”

You huff a laugh. It doesn’t land. You’re not in a laughing mood.

He clocks that too.

You swallow. “It’s every day.”

He tilts his head, watching you.

“Every fucking day,” you say again, louder now. “Same questions. Same tone. Same look. Like I’m just some girl who wandered in off the street and you lot’re lettin’ me tag along for charity.”

John’s quiet. Just chewing the inside of his cheek.

You start pacing, hands clenched. “I’ve been on stage since I was, what? Sixteen? I’ve written songs that’ve gone Number One. I’ve bled into frets. But every time I sit on that couch, every time the red light’s on, all they see is a skirt and a smile!"

“Don’t always smile,” he mutters.

You shoot him a look.

He shrugs. “Didn’t say you should. Just... noticed.”

You go still for a moment.

Then shake your head. “They don’t see me as a musician. Not really.”

“That’s bollocks.”

“No, it’s not,” you snap. “To them I’m the novelty. The-what’d he say tonight?-the unusual dynamic.” You make a disgusted sound. “They’d be happier if I stood at the side of the stage and passed out towels.”

John leans back, rubbing a knuckle under his nose. “World’s full of idiots.”

“That’s not good enough,” you fire back. “I’m not asking for the world. I’m just asking to be taken seriously. For five fuckin’ minutes.”

He nods once. Slowly.

You collapse onto the edge of the bed, elbows on your knees, hands buried in your hair.

Silence.

You speak again, complaining, “I don't know... I thought I was stronger than this.”

John shifts in his seat.

“Y’are.”

You look up. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Well,” he says, tone dry, “you didn’t glass the bastard, so I’d say that’s a win.”

That gets a huff out of you. Closer to a laugh this time. Not quite.

John runs a hand through his hair, sits up a bit straighter. “Y’know, it’s not just them, either.”

You blink.

“Plenty of blokes, us included, didn’t know what the fuck to do with you at first. You came in with that sharp little grin, playin’ better than George, writin’ with Paul, callin’ me a tosser on day one.”

“You were being one,” you murmur.

He grins. “Still do. You were right.”

You rub your eyes, tired to the bone.

John’s voice softens.

“Look, I know I take the piss. But I do see you. We all do. Even when we’re bein’ wankers about it... y'know.”

You don’t answer.

“Y’ever think maybe they treat you like that because you scare the shit out of ’em?” he says.

You glance at him.

He shrugs. “'Cause you’re better than half the blokes that ever touched a fretboard and they can’t stand it.”

You stare.

That wasn’t what you expected. Not from him.

John shrugs again, like it’s no big thing. “I mean it. You’ve got somethin’ the rest of us don’t. Call it presence. Call it fire. Whatever it is, it’s there."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

You look down at your hands. They’re shaking a bit.

Then, slowly, “Sometimes I just wanna scream.”

He smirks. “So do it.”

“I can’t.”

“You can. Well, not now maybe, but sometime.”

He reaches for a cig, finds none. Pats his pocket, gives up.

“I’ve seen you on stage. You’ve already got your hands on ’em. Just squeeze a little.”

You shake your head. “You’re an idiot.”

“And yet,” he says, “you’re talkin’ to me.”

Another silence. Not heavy. Not awkward. Just... there.

You lie back on the bed, arms flung wide.

“I think I hate the sixties,” you say.

John laughs. Real belly laugh this time. “You and me both, love.”

You stare at the ceiling. “You gonna piss off now, or you stayin’?”

He yawns dramatically. “Well, the chair’s comfy. You snore, though.”

You throw a pillow at him.

He catches it, grinning.

“I’ll stay a bit,” he says, settling back. “’Til you’re less murdery.”

You close your eyes.

Someone sees you. Not a gimmick. Not a girl. Not a headline.

Just you. A Beatle. Same as ever.

taglist: @sharksausages, @wavvytin, @wimpyvamps, @finallyforgotten, @lennongirlieee, @silly-lil-lee, @alanangels

[wowie-zowie-art]

Alastor Resign!

(Please do not repost or claim as your own)

(Reblogs over likes please!)

Here's a big one! While I don't have nearly as much to say as my previous post, as that was me explaining the concept of these redesigns in the first place, I do have SOME.

Alastor is probably the most....infamous design of the Hazbin series. A culmination of all of the gripes that I and many others share. Too much red, too skinny, messy shape language, complex yet lacking design, and none of the expressed character traits that he is supposed to have (such as being mixed or having deer attributes), or if they are there they are very subtle.

So, everything you know about the original design? Thrown out. Completely. While I tried to keep the general feel of the design and character, with the suit and general shape, I completely changed most things.

I really wanted to nail that radio host part of the character, so the hair and clothes were based off actual references of real outfits from the time period. I really liked the plaid look he ended up with! And of course, the design was made simpler, and since we was supposed to be a main character, and the foil to Charlie, the deer aspects were also amped up to the extreme.

The biggest change of all was probably the palette swap however, being nice shades of orange, purple, and brown.

I'd imagine that in this universe, he advertises for the hotel, and gets the name out there due to being a celebrity within the majority of hell. He probably also handles the "business" side and gets them shady deals and sponsors.

While not being particularly sure what to do with him when I started out, I really like how he ended up!

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

First of all, very in love with the digital reader fic you put out <3

But since reader expressed not knowing why they were in hell I just couldn't help myself from thinking about this-

Reader: I don't even know why I'm here, the hell did I ever do?

Lucifer: Didn't you crash over half of all the systems on earth when you were alive?

Reader: That was an accident! I was only trying to crash like...ten!

Just a goofy thought that popped into my head- destructive characters that are chaotic on accident my beloved lmao-

Kisses darling <3

-📽

Sweet silly little Lucifer with his ducks. I feel like everyone thinks he's completely aware of everything happening in Hell at all times. Meanwhile, he's just making ducks and missing his daughter and can't remember the last time he ate.

Digital Pet [Vox x Reader, but this is a Lucifer interaction]

What Do You Mean You Don't Know

You'd been surfing through the digital plane like any other day. Vox had his schedule completely full, so you were on your own the pass the time. You hopped between windows that led into various devices all around Hell.

It was hard to tell where you were most of the time, but a part of you was convinced that you could slip into the devices of demons outside the Pride Ring. You'd once seen hellhounds and succubi at a party when you'd peeked into a large screen behind a DJ on stage. The large venue was covered in honeycombs and you saw some sort of lava lamp-looking furry doing shots in the middle of the energized crowd. While the aesthetic was similar enough to what you'd seen in the sinner's little slice of Hell, it felt... different.

It was precious information you decided to hold close to your chest. Maybe you'd tell Vox one day but from everything you'd seen about his power-hungry reputation, you decided it may be best not to play your card too soon. For all you know, it was just an exclusive club with different vibes. It wasn't unheard of for demons from the other rings to come to the clubs in Pride.

You were floating through an endless hall of screens and lights, looking between the different windows into the world you couldn't hope to touch when you saw a face that made you double-take.

"Is that..." You float back and gasp as you get a closer look that confirms your suspicions. "Oh, you motherfucker!"

Lucifer let out a startled yelp, dropping the duck he'd been painting as he fell out of his chair. He'd just been minding his own business, listening to some light jazz while he made duckie replicas of his daughter and all her little friends at the hotel when a loud voice suddenly blasted over the music on his laptop.

He frowned as he looked down and saw his white pants splatted with the fresh red paint of Alastor's duck. He was on his ninth attempt at replicating the cocky jerk and had finally been on the verge of getting his stupid grin right when you startled him.

"Oh great," Lucifer grumbled as he pulled himself off of the ground. "It's already bad enough I have a growing pile of ducks dedicated to this prick, now he's ruining my clothes too."

Lucifer leaned over his desk, trying to see what sort of pop-up advertisement or virus had gotten on his system when he suddenly saw you watching him with crossed arms. Your small form glared at him from where you sat atop of his video player.

"A sinner...?" Lucifer blinked slowly before looking at you in awe. He could see your soul and recognized you as a person immediately. "What on Earth are you doing in there?"

"You tell me!" you point at him angrily. "You're the guy in charge of this shit, aren't you? What did I ever do to you?! I didn't do anything to deserve a worse Hell than everyone else."

"How should I know?" Lucifer squawked as he threw up his arms in defense... "I haven't gone outside in... wait, what day is it?"

"How do you not know?" You ask, the two of you amping each other up in your confusion. "You're Lucifer! This is literally your entire thing!"

"Uh, excuse you," Lucifer tsked as he placed a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know I am a man of ducks and dadness. Not keeping track of every soul that drops into Hell. Do you have any idea just how many of you die a day? A lot. Too many. Just. Please get better at staying alive, I beg you."

You deadpan at him before shaking your head with a sigh. "Well, do you at least know how to get me out of the digital plane? I'd like to actually eat food or let my feet touch the ground o-or sleep in a bed!"

"Uhh," Lucifer laughed nervously. "Yeaaaah, no. Nope. Sorry uh, no. Technology isn't something I really know anything about. I'd love to help but uh, yeah... no."

You groan, obviously disappointed in his answer as you flop over to the side and let your frustration win in the moment. You run a hand down your face and look up at the great devil of Hell with a sigh.

"Do you at least have any idea why I'm in Hell and not Heaven?"

Lucifer hummed, squinting at you as he ran a history check on your soul. It took a lot longer to find a reason than he expected, but then he finally landed on it.

"Ah, there it is," he muttered. "Looks like you ate the last slice of birthday cake in the fridge back in your college days."

Your jaw drops, for a couple of reasons. The top reason should have been that such a little thing damned your soul for eternity. However, your priorities were a bit skewed. Which became transparently obvious as you exclaimed, "Excuse me?! It was MY birthday cake!"

"Yeah, but they called dibs," Lucifer shook his head with a sigh. "Heaven takes dibs very seriously. And as you should know by now, I don't make the rules."

The powerful demon grumbled like a child as you recovered from the absolute bullshit that was your afterlife. It wasn't until you'd sat back up that you looked past Lucifer and finally noticed his room.

"Why the fuck are there so many ducks?"

[submissive-humiliation-slut]

Daylong edging... the aftermath!

Call it the result of several hours of self abvse, torment, sexual servitude and cruel edging or indeed the insatiable hunger of a humiliation whore... this night is just so thrilling to me.

For those of you who read my blog regularly, you know that am currently traveling overseas with my husband. You also know that today I excused myself from accompanying my husband to his business meetings and instead took out four weeks of sexual hunger on myself by putting the dnd on my hotel suite door and spending five hours deliciously slapping, pinching, whipping, choking, assuming submissive poses... all while ruthlessly edging myself. By the time my alarm went off (one hour before my husband was due back) I was a wet, sweaty, sticky, sloppy mess covered in my own spit, my pussy juices, my sweat...!

When the alarm went off, I stood before the full length mirror and looked at myself. I was naked, wet, sweaty, hot, squirming... my nipples erect and breasts coated in my sweat and saliva. Red marks reminded me how I had mauled my breasts. I lifted my dishevelled hair with both hands lifting my hair up in a submissive pose and could see a hint of armpit stubble and a light red mark where my stocking had been choking me all afternoon. I turned to my side to see the welts my husband's belt had left on my bum and lower back and thighs... Note to self - wear clothes that cover me and make sure my neck is also covered.

I showered for most of that hour - shampooing my hair, shaving my armpits, legs, pussy of any stubble whatsoever, washing my body and then moisturising it lovingly. All the time I felt that ever present ache deep inside me as my clit throbbed from being stimulated all day but not having been allowed to cum... fuckkkkkkk! The torment was so delicious that words cannot describe it.

I dressed very conservatively and prepared for my beloved husband to return. When I hugged him, I could not shake the feeling of having cheated so badly on him. He loves me so much and I am such a humiliation craving whore... I don't deserve him. And yet, I felt lucky to have him home to hold me and reassure me that my real world was still perfect.

We went to dinner with some friends who are also travelling with us and I was distant and distracted all night. All I could think of was how I mind-fucked myself - how I r4ped myself and how I abvsed myself all day. How I mercilessly edged and got messages from strangers. I was so wet and my sexual hunger was amped beyond control. I had to excuse myself and go to the bathroom and just breathe to get some semblance of relief from the constant heat between my legs but just found myself playing with my nipples which sent direct tingles down to my clit. Fuckkkkkk!

We went back to the hotel and in the dark, my darling husband made tender love to me. I had to use all my might to not cum when he entered me... and all the while I was breathless and moaning uncontrollably imagining that I was being r4ped and abvsed by a faceless stranger in this foreign land...

Oh godddd! I am such a whore....... fuckkkkkkkkkkk

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 18.0k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Oral F! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

Thirteen hours. 

It had been thirteen long hours since you last saw Jake, leaving your room in a hurry of flustered nerves. You were dreading it, but he was nowhere to be found this morning, not a sight or sound from him since late last night. It had been ten hours since his text, coming to you far too early in the morning for your liking. He was sorry. Of course he was sorry. The text came so early in fact, that part of you wondered if he was just arriving back to the hotel from the amp situation, or if he was tossing and turning in his bed in much the same way you were. You loaded into the van bright and early with Wes and Paul, secretly wondering where he was or if he was going to show up at all, but if you had to guess he was likely passed out in his bed five floors up.

Your market list today was short, only a few things for Josh and Sam and the noticeable absence of normal requests from Jake. You didn’t think much of it, getting what you needed before making the trek back to the venue. You took the spare second to give Ruth a quick run down and she was just as confused as you were. For once in her life she had nothing to say. She was speechless and you didn’t blame her. 

She insisted you reply to Jake’s early morning text, but you couldn’t. You had no idea where to even start. You wanted to move forward and forget it ever happened, and in order to do that you needed to leave last night behind you. Right? You know that when you do see him today though, things will be tense. Maybe even a little awkward. You take solace in the fact that you will be busy the entire day, making it fairly easy to avoid him and forget about everything, you hoped.

You made your way back into the crew area, flashing your shiny laminated badge to security as you juggle the paper bags in your arms. You navigate the winding corridors of the venue hearing the sounds of rumbling bass and guitar echo through the halls, finding yourself smiling at the fact that this was a sound not many people got to experience. Jake must have made it here after all. Familiar voices laughing a few feet ahead of you snap you back to reality. You see Mia and Lyla hanging out in front of the greenroom, looking at something on one of their phones just as they spot you. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Mia shouts, waving you over, “C’mere!”

You turn to head over towards them, stopping short as Lyla grabs one of the bags from your arms. “I’ll take one of those!”

“Oh, thanks!” you smile, feeling Mia place her hand on your arm. 

“We just were talking a little while ago about how much fun we had with you yesterday. I know you don’t really know us that well yet, but you are welcome to hang with us whenever you want. Seriously. We want to get to know you, we need another girl on our side!”

“That’s so nice! Thank you so much, I appreciate that, really,” you answer, adjusting your grip on the bag in your hand. “I will take you up on that, yesterday was really cool.”

“Yeah, so what did you get into after we went back to the hotel?” Lyla asks, tilting her head a bit. 

“Oh, I just…I went to my room and hung out for a while, went and did a little sightseeing of my own and ordered room service and fell asleep. I was pretty exhausted after walking all day,” you say, bending the truth just a touch. 

“Huh, well, call us next time, hate for you to go out all alone,” Mia says, raising an eyebrow as she turns to Lyla. It almost seems as if she's waiting for you to correct her. 

It strikes you as a little suspicious but you know better than to play into it. “Yeah, absolutely. But hey I have to go get this set up, they will be looking for it any second.” 

“Yeah yeah, no problem, go, I know how Sam gets,” Lyla laughs, handing the bag back to you. 

“Thanks again, I’ll find you two later!” you shout over your shoulder. 

You rush into the greenroom, furiously arranging the food and drinks before soundcheck finishes. You want to get things set up, done, and be gone before they ever step foot in the room. Sure you told yourself you were going to be mature about things, but you weren’t going to put yourself in the line of fire. In fact, you had yet to see any of the guys today, and part of you was thankful. Trying to make awkward small talk with them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now. 

You wipe your hands on your pants as you finish placing the drinks into the cooler, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket. 

Paul

3:43PM: Need another case of Topos and a bottle of soda water please

Fuck, where was this text an hour ago?

You

3:44PM: No problem, be back soon.

—

Two stores and thirty minutes later you are walking back to the venue, braving the cold with the case of drinks and bottle of soda water in hand. Your jacket is zipped all the way up to your neck, and still the wind is whipping right through you. You can see the venue gates a block away but the wind is making it feel like ten. Again you flash your badge to security, the burly man opening the gates to let you into the back parking lot. As you turn the corner to approach the entrance, you’re stopped in your tracks. Standing outside the doors, leaning against the brick wall is Jake. Of course. 

He doesn’t see you, not yet at least. His back is turned a bit to cut the wind. Clad in only a t-shirt and his corduroy jacket, you know he is freezing. The smoke billows from his lips, whooshing away quickly as the wind whips it into the air. His lips. His perfectly pink, heart shaped lips that were all over your body last night. Kissing and biting and… No. Stop it. You try to compose yourself, gripping the items in your hands as you head toward the door, prepared to say as little as possible to him, and walk straight inside. 

That of course, did not happen. 

“Have any trouble finding it?” he asks, turning to meet your eyes as he rolls his smoke out between his fingers, dropping the burnt tobacco into the grass. 

“Oh, um, no no, all good,” you answer nervously. Which was also a lie, you were kinda sweating finding the Topos for a second. 

Your eyes catch on his jacket, your mind swirling with the memory of his cologne that lingers in its fibers. You feel a tinge of happiness in your chest at the fact he is talking to you, though, why wouldn’t he be? You didn’t do anything wrong. You watch his lips twitch a little, and you can tell that he seems almost nervous to talk to you. 

“When are you ever gonna ask me for the things you want?” you ask playfully, trying to ease his anxiety. It never happened, remember?

He turns his body completely, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirks at you, “Well, the last time I texted you, you left me on read. So I figure I will just get my own things, now.”

Fuck, okay that plan backfired. 

You bite your lips together and look down to the ground, unsure of what to even say to that. He drops his hands to his sides as he looks at you, and you feel your body temperature start to rise under his gaze. The wind blows his hair across his face, in turn sending the smell of his cologne barrelling past you. You feel bad for him, of course…if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t even be speaking to him right now, let alone be acting even the littlest bit flirty. You shiver a little, from the cold or the smell of his cologne, you aren’t sure. 

“I need to get this inside,” you stammer, at a complete loss on how to respond to that.

He nods his head and grabs the door handle, pulling it open and gesturing for you to go, but thankfully, he doesn’t follow you. 

Fuck. Okay. Okay. It’s fine. It’s totally fine. 

You rush back into the green room, finding Sam and Danny playing around with a mini golf toy. 

“Here you go Sam! Sorry! Had to go to two places to find the kind you like,” you smile, ripping the box open. 

“My hero!” he shouts, rushing over to you and wrapping his arms around you in a hug. 

You smile as he sets you down, tossing a can to Daniel, and then cracking the lid on his own. The two of them saunter back through the greenroom doors, leaving you alone to throw the rest of them into the cooler. 

You pull your phone from your bag, bringing up your text thread with Jake and staring at his last message. Maybe Ruth was right, you should respond. Now especially after that, after knowing he was still beating himself up over it. You type, delete and retype your message several times before finally landing on what felt right, and even more, you really mean it.

You

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.

JAKE POV

As you continue to stand outside the venue and let the wind cut you in two, you wonder if your plan to play it smooth actually worked. She didn’t fully ignore you, she didn’t cuss you out, she didn’t laugh in your face… but she did speak. Only a few words, but you’ll take what you can get. It was hard to even say those few words to her, the instant courage you had to muster to speak to her after seeing her so unexpectedly almost threw you for a loop, but somehow, your words came out smoothly, concisely, and without sounding like you were a complete buffoon.

You relax a little as you know she is inside doing her duties, and you busy yourself pacing around the back exit to keep warm. The pre-show nerves start coming about this time of day, and sometimes it feels good to step out into the blistering cold for that extra shot of adrenaline to get your blood pumping. You jump up and down, shoving your hands in your pockets as you wait just a few more minutes… wanting to avoid having to make any more awkward conversation with her than you already had. 

As your hand hits your pocket, though, you feel your phone buzz. You pull it out, seeing a notification that she has finally texted you back. 

Y/N

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake. 

You read the text no less than fifteen times, smiling from ear to ear before anxiety sets in, making you think that maybe she is just being nice. But you do have something to apologize for. You were the reason for a completely failed night, a shitty end to the perfect “date”, left her pissed and unsatisfied, the absolute worst. All you’ve been able to think about all day long is how you are going to explain everything, and make it up to her. You know you can’t until after the show, but just the little bit of contact from her makes you feel like you could move mountains. Progress is progress. 

You’re pacing the hallways going back and forth between backstage and the green room, keeping yourself busy before you head to jam a little with the guys. 

“Hey, man. You good?” Sam asks as you’re brushing past him in a doorway. His tone is more inquisitive than normal, and the volume of his voice is the one he uses when he’s unsure, or in this case, concerned. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I mean… I wasn’t, really, but I am now,” you answer, pushing your sunglasses back up on your head. You watch his eyebrows furrow at your answer, wondering if you caught onto his loaded question. 

“I heard about your amp, what happened?” he asks. 

“I’m not sure, something with the wiring. Had a gash in the cabinet but the harness was all damaged to shit. They’re getting a rental, though… should be here soon,” you glance at your watch to double check the time, praying that you will have enough time to check it before tonight. 

“Mmm, maybe not…” Sam stops in his tracks, and turns the opposite way to go back out to the stage. “Let me take a look at it.” 

You’re surprised by him, but follow his quick steps anyway. You’re close behind him as you navigate the narrow halls, passing crew and staff left and right. And of course, one of them just happens to be Y/N. Her eyes widen as she sees the two of you. 

“HEY!” Sam yells at her, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Daniel told me to tell you thank you for the soda water and that he appreciates it,” Sam cheeses a giant smile at her as she cups her hand over his, still squeezing her shoulder. 

“No problem at all, Sam,” she giggles. “Man, you guys are really nice, no one has ever thanked me for getting them things this much,” she narrows her eyes at you, pursing her lips into the smallest smile. Mental note, thank her extra for whatever she decides to bring you to drink tonight…

“Well I mean we’re all assholes but we at least have manners,” he replies, starting to head toward the stage again. You part ways, but just her eyes meeting yours again was enough to make your heart flutter. 

Sam skips every other step as he climbs the metal stairs to the stage, making his way over to your damaged amp that has been set to the side. “Alright, let’s see…” he squats down and pulls the back off, and starts to fidget with the wiring inside. “Oh, shit, yeah. I see now…” He pulls up the flashlight on his phone as you watch him think. Suddenly he stands and runs over to your cabinet, grabbing two handfuls of tools before making his way back and dropping them by your side. He then hops over to his own setup and pulls the back off of one of his own amps, pulling a few things from it, too. What the fuck is he doing?

He returns a minute later with some of the guts of his own amp, and pieces of it that you are sure you’ve never even seen before. He kneels back down and grabs a screwdriver, going back to work. 

“So, you say you’re good now, but you weren’t, right?” he asks. “You’ve been acting kinda backward lately.”

“No I haven’t,” you kick back. 

His eyes quickly scan to yours as his hands work at a quick pace. “Yeah, you have. I’m not stupid.”

You sigh, knowing that he isn’t gonna give it up. “I’ve just… got some other shit going on right now, I’ll–I’ll explain it all later once I get it dealt with,” you lie. The half-assed explanation will have to do for now, there is no way you are going into detail about all the good and bad happening in your life, especially since Lyla may be giving Sam a completely different story than the one you would give him. 

You watch as he effortlessly completely replaces the wire housing, splicing the old wire at the perfect spot before tightening it back into place again. “There, that should do it…”

“Does your amp not need that stuff?” you ask, leaning your hands on your knees as you watch him.

“Eh, yeah, but I think this will be okay,” he says. “Alright, fire it up!” he yells at the techs, and you take that as your cue to grab your guitar to test it out. You plug the wire in and wait for Sam to get the thumbs-up from the booth. You play a single chord, hearing it ring across the arena with near-perfection. 

“Holy shit Sam, how did you do that?!” your jaw is hanging slack as you make your way back over to him. “The techs couldn’t even figure it out…”

He wipes his hands against each other and stands with his hands on his hips like a proud father. “Eh, been watching Mark for a long time, now. Youtube deep-dives, ya know. Picked up on a few things.”

“Shit, I’m impressed,” you laugh. And you really, really were.

“Yeah, ya know, sometimes finding the root of the problem is the first step in making things work out how you want them to, know what I mean?” He bumps your side with his elbow. Yep. His first question was definitely loaded.

You nod slowly. “Yeah… thanks…”

“No problem.” He walks a little closer to you, barely twisting a peg on the headstock of your guitar. “There, now you’re tuned, too.” 

You glance at the stock, seeing that he was right, the little fucker. You watch as he skips down the stairs again, throwing one finger in the air above him, screaming, “Cancel the rental!”

—

You and Sam decide to wander around the empty venue for a while, checking out the view from the top row of seats, enjoying a shared blunt as time ticks by. You don’t get to spend much time with just Sam, but every now and then you find a moment like this. You’re close with Sam, in a different way than you are with Josh. He understands things differently than Josh, and for a moment as the smoke swirls through your veins you consider asking him for advice about Isla. 

You know it's a dangerous game, but without the influence of Lyla you think he would answer truthfully. Passing the blunt back to him you start to speak, but are quickly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing a name on the screen that you’d been waiting for for a few days. 

“Hey, let me take this, I’ll meet you back in the green room?” you ask, hoping he will catch the drift. 

His face twists up in confusion, “Huh? You never answer your phone.”

“It’s Chris. I’ve been waiting on this call. Let me grab it,” you say, flashing the screen towards him. 

“Oh, oh. About your new band with your new friends that aren’t me and Josh and Daniel. That's fine, yeah yeah take the call,” he says playfully. 

“Old friends Sam, and don’t be like that…” you chide. 

“No, it’s totally fine, cheater, answer before he hangs up,”  he smiles, elbowing you as he stands up. You tap the green icon as he starts to walk away, clearing your throat and stifling back a smile.

“Chris…” you answer. 

“Jake…” he answers, a happy lilt in his tone. 

“I’m guessing this means we’re doing it?”

You hear him laugh on the other end of the phone, “Oh yeah, we’re doing it.”

—

“Jake, you good?” Danny asks, standing up from his practice kit. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m feelin’ really good actually,” you answer truthfully. You stand, placing your guitar into the stand and shaking out your hands as Josh steps up towards you. 

“Drink?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Followin’ you…”

You do follow him back to the greenroom, needing a drink to get your blood moving and to shake those pre show jitters. As you step over the threshold you spot Y/N sitting on a couch talking to Lyla, Ty, and Mia. You wonder for a second if she has mentioned anything about what happened last night, but from the happy look on their faces you know it’s likely they know nothing about the two of you or what transpired last night.

You walk over to the drink table, Josh already getting started on making a drink for the two of you. You laugh at his heavy handed pour, but accept it graciously. You can hear the rumble of the crowd, the opener finishing up their set this very minute. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, catching her looking at you for just a second before looking away. The feeling of her eyes on you has your chest warming up, no alcohol needed. 

In all reality you were ready for this show to be over. You knew that as soon as you got the chance you were going to whisk her away to talk about last night, explain things, and hope she understood. You just had to get through this show. 

You grab the drink from Josh and make your way over to the empty couch across the room, sitting at the very end and crossing your leg over your knee. You know you’ve got about thirty minutes until you need to walk, and you still need to change, but a quick drink would do you some good so you enjoy the few moments listening to Josh ramble. 

Just as you start to relax you notice Y/N standing from her place on the couch and walking over towards the corner of the room. You try not to stare, knowing Mia and Lyla’s eyes are on you but you have an idea of what she may be doing, so you sit back and watch to find out. 

You hear her walkie talkie chattering from across the room, the time until stage is growing smaller and smaller. As she stands back up she turns around and looks at you, letting her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds before she walks out of the room with your bottle of wine in hand. You stifle back the smile on your lips as you think about her going through your bag again. It’s strange, you’d never allowed any of the other runners to do that, but she was different. You found yourself excited at the idea of her touching your things, finding your wine and readying your drink for the stage. 

You turn back to Josh who has his eyes locked on you with a knowing grin. He clears his throat and makes sure that no one is listening before he speaks, “Are you two good, then?”

You nod your head inconspicuously, sipping at the drink in your hand. “Seems that way.”

He pats his hand on your thigh harshly, “Good, go get changed. We’ve got a show to play.”

Just then, Paul ducks his head through the door looking frazzled as usual, “Boys, twenty minutes.”

Josh tilts his head to you, and you stand up heading for the dressing rooms. You quickly change into your suit and slip into your boots, ready to swipe on some eyeliner before you hit the stage. You hear your phone buzz on the countertop, and it zaps all of your attention. You are practically stumbling over your own feet to get to it, hoping to see something from Y/N, and much to your delight, it is. 

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Oh fuck, a song. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, you want to open it immediately but you know you have to get this eyeliner on first. You grab the pencil and pull your lid down, swiping on the dark black liner, smudging it out with your finger the best you can before repeating it on the other side. All you can think about is what song she added. Will it be happy? Will it be sad? Is she telling you she doesn’t want to do this anymore? That you fucked up?

You cap the liner and toss it into your bag, running your fingers through your hair and adjusting your suit jacket in the mirror. You look good, you look really good, and you know that a spray of cologne probably wouldn’t hurt. You snatch your phone off the counter and make your way back into the greenroom, finding everyone else dressed and ready to walk. 

You make your way to your backpack, crouching down in front of it searching for the small glass bottle of cologne you know is floating around at the bottom. You pull it from the bag and give yourself a generous spray. It calms you, in a way, breathing in the familiar scent. It centers you and reminds you of home. 

Unable to wait a single second longer, you tap the notification on your screen bringing up the shared playlist, scrolling to the very bottom. Your heart leaps in your chest when you see her addition, and you know that you are about to play a good show because of it. 

You tap the song, letting the sweet and sentimental notes of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ by Frankie Valli ring through the air. You turn the volume up probably a little louder than it should be, but you don’t care. It’s not long before Josh notices, peering over at you from the rim of his paper cup. 

“Jake, is that Frankie Valli? Holy shit, wait, do you like good music now?” he teases, throwing you a wink. 

The chorus echoes through the room, Sam and Lyla obviously enjoying the song as he dances her around the room. He pops a few grapes into his mouth as they spin and you can’t help but to notice that this song alone has brightened everyone's spirits in a matter of seconds. She definitely had that effect on you, but now her magic was being cast on others. You almost wanted to thank her, and you would, tonight. With extra thanks…

You quickly pull up your texts with her, deciding to let her know you saw it without saying too much. 

You

8:31PM: 😎

You know it’s risky but you don’t care. You also know the chances of her replying to that are slim, because in all honesty what do you even say to that? But she continues to surprise you, your phone buzzing in your hand before you can even put it back in your bag. 

Y/N

8:32PM: 🎸

You can’t seem to shake the smile from your face and you’re glad you are still crouched down in front of your bag, because you know everyone would have a million questions the second they saw your shit-eating grin. 

“Let’s go guys, time to walk!” Paul shouts, pulling your attention away from the little guitar emoji. You toss your phone in your bag and straighten out your suit, trying to get your mind back into the zone to play this show. Get through this, then you can talk to her.

Your heart is beating fast though, knowing that at the end of this hallway she is waiting for you. You know you have to play it cool, you don’t want to seem too eager. You clear your throat and fall to the back of the group, saving yourself for last.

You’re fine Jake. Just act natural, be cool.

—

HER POV

The tequila cocktail… the Topo… the spiked hot tea… and…

The shadowed figure is bringing up the rear like the tail end of a parade of sequins and sparkling material, dressed in black satin and glittering in the dim lights, hair flowing back from his shoulders as his right hand falls to his stomach as he walks. His face is contoured by the flashing lights of the stage, showcasing the smudged black eyeliner carefully but heavily painted over the eyes that were boring into you, now. 

You feel your hand begin to shake on its own accord, trying not to spill the chalice of white wine that it was, in all honesty, about to drop to the floor below you. You swallow harshly as he makes his way toward you at almost slow-motion speed, his eyes dark and hollow as his presence approaches. Your hand shakily extends the cup, glancing up to him again as he bites his cheeks in, suppressing a smile that reads more like a judgment on behalf of your probably flustered state. Why are you reacting this way? This man literally gave you one of the most awkward exchanges of your night last night…

His fingertips are nearly on fire as they barely graze yours, taking the cup with a quickness.

“Good luck,” you mutter, probably barely audible over the opening orchestral. 

He flips his hair out from underneath the strap of his guitar with his free hand, side-eyeing you as he walks toward the stairs to the stage. “Mmm, don’t need it, babe.” As if the pure adrenaline wasn’t already enough to knock you over, his bold act of cocky audacity steals all the breath directly from your lungs, leaving you standing with your mouth agape and your hands dropped at your sides. God damn, why is he like this? 

“I don’t know… I’ve seen you with stage fright before…” you retort, suddenly feeling bold enough to joke about what happened the night prior. 

“Ohhhh, is that how it’s gonna be?!” he laughs, bumping into your shoulder. “Hope you know that’s not normally how those kinds of nights go for me…” he yells back over the deafening music, avoiding eye contact with you as he takes the first sip from his wine.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Oh, it’s not, is it?”

He shakes his head a little as he begins to ascend the metal stairs. “No. Most definitely not.” Your heart is pounding out of your ribcage as his words ring through your brain, replaying the utter humiliation of last night, followed by his overwhelming acts of confidence in the past minute. “Thank you, though, seriously. For taking care of us.” He leans over the handrail of the steps, leaning down to speak closely in your ear. “But for taking care of me, especially. I plan on returning the favor, don’t worry…” 

He stands back up and glides onto the stage, holding his wine up into the air as if to salute your efforts. Your mouth goes dry as you find yourself in a puddle of excited emotions. You can feel your mouth hanging open still from his words, your lips unable to close simply from hearing him say he wants to try again. It's all a conundrum, and now you’re full-on staring at him as he crosses the stage to stand with his brothers, fluffing his hair a little as he pulls a pick from the inside of his jacket, biting it between his front teeth. He turns back to you and winks, placing his own hand under his jaw, signaling for you to pick yours up off of the floor. 

—--

Minutes later you’re still standing at the base of the stairs, watching as they begin their night of revelry. Jake’s amp sounds perfect again, and you can tell that his worry of finding a replacement and anxiety of it not making it on time was all for nothing. He treats the stage like it’s his second life, a place where he can release his true inner self, or, maybe, an alternate version of the man that he is. You’re not sure yet, but you have a deep feeling that you will be experiencing it, soon. The thought of that makes your insides feel like they’re blazing with hormones, watching his performance pick up and slow down with each passing second. Yeah, you know for a fact last night was a fluke. Had to be. There’s no way he can’t really actually…nevermind. 

You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping that you have enough service to facetime Ruth. You don’t even bother doing the math to see if you’ll be waking her up or not, but you also know that she absolutely won’t care, if this is what she gets to wake up to. You press the green button, watching as it connects with only a little bit of blurriness from the reception. 

You plaster a smile on your face as you watch her answer, realizing exactly where you are, and what you’re in the middle of doing. You can’t hear each other, but you turn the screen around, giving her a full view of the show happening from side stage. You watch her face light up, and an ‘OH MY GOD’ form on her lips. You take the time to zoom in on each member, of course, saving Jake for last. He’s the closest to you, so you don’t have to use much zoom at all for her to really see him. ‘That’s him! That’s him, isn’t it?!’ you watch her mouth. Her hand snaps up to cover the lower half of her face as you watch her squirm with excitement. ‘Last night wasn’t real, you gotta let him try again!!!’ you read her lips, and you turn the screen back to yourself. 

You roll your eyes, mouthing back an enunciated, ‘I know!’ 

You let her watch for a few more minutes before the crappy reception disconnects you altogether, and she shoots you a quick text filled with nothing but a long string of random letters, letting you know she was fully freaking out. 

Right before the end of the show, you rush back to the green room to clean up the mess of whatever is left behind, replenishing and rearranging everything that needs it. You know the crew will be coming in to collect snacks and waters before their job begins tonight, and you’ve learned to put out almost every single food item that you can, knowing that none of it will go to waste. 

As you hear the encore coming to a close, you grab the four black towels waiting for you in your bag, rushing back out to side stage to hand them off to the guys. You find Paul waiting too, ready to give them encouraging back-pats of congratulations. Just like they entered, they exit the same, Jake bringing up the back as if he planned it. You’d been kind enough to hand Sam, Josh, and Danny theirs with sweet words of compliments and praise, but switched it up at the very end, tossing Jake’s towel into the air above him, forcing him to reach high and catch it in mid-air. 

The sweat is pouring from his every pore, pooling on his upper lip and center of his stomach. Your mind goes to a dark place for a second, wishing you knew exactly what it would taste like if you were the one to lick it from his lips. He quickly pulls the towel across his face and stomach, finishing off by wiping the back of his neck with it. He then tosses it back in your face, and you catch the smallest breath of his scent filling your nostrils. “You can keep that, all yours,” he jokes as you pull it off your face, responding to him with a look of annoyance. 

“You asshole,” you laugh, tucking the towel under your arm as you follow them all backstage. He turns around, yanking the towel back out from your grasp. You watch as he takes two ends and twists them up, wrapping the damp towel in a tight coil. Oh god, he’s not gonna…

You stop, lifting your leg and outstretching your arms in defense of your body. You just know he is about to snap it at you. “Jake, no, please don’t!” you squeal, backing away. 

“Don’t worry, ‘m not gonna get you, unless you’re into that kinda thing…” 

Son of a bitch, he said that fairly loudly, as you’re surrounded by his brothers, their girlfriends, the crew, your co-workers… fuck.

Your eyes widen as big as they will go as he laughs, continuing to make his way down the hall. You pick up steps again, following him in a flustered mess of confusion. “I’m gonna get Daniel, watch…”

You burst into the greenroom right behind him, the towel still tightly wound and held in his right hand. He makes his way straight for Danny, twirling the towel in the air as he approaches him. 

“No, Jake! No!” Danny yells, running away and launching himself onto the couch, but not before you hear a perfectly loud snap of the towel connecting with Danny’s thigh. Danny yelps out in stinging pain as everyone else laughs, Jake taking his time to roll the towel up into his makeshift whip again. “What the fuck?!” Danny yells, trying his best to hide behind Mia. Everyone is running away from him at this point, worried they will be the next victim. 

Jake makes contact with Danny’s leg again as he squeals. “That’s for not cueing me into Farewell like we practiced, you asshole!” Jake yells at Danny with a giant smile across his face. 

“Leave me alone!” Danny laughs, laying all his weight onto Mia. “I forgot, okay? Fuck!” You can’t help but join in the laughter of everyone filling up the green room, watching their playful display. You feel a sudden strong warmth fill your chest, realizing you get to be a part of this, seeing it all firsthand. 

Jake stops, folding the towel back into a nice neat square as he makes his way back to where you stand, handing the towel to you with both hands. “Anyway, told you you could keep this,” he reiterates as you take it from his hands, giving him another glare of petty aggravation. 

“Wonderful show guys, as always!” Paul claps his hands together. “This venue has an early curfew, so get your showers and shit together, no lollygagging around, alright?” he barks, popping a pretzel into his mouth before dashing back out the door. 

Sam’s the first one out the door to the showers, pulling Lyla behind him. “You guys make the afterparty plans, we’ll do whatever, we don’t care…” he yells over his shoulder as the door slams behind Lyla. 

“It’s balls cold out, I know Ty’s not gonna want to go walking around in this shit. And to be honest, I don’t really want to either,” Josh says, taking a seat on the couch beside Ty. “Am I right?” he asks him.

“Yeah, fuck this cold,” Ty responds. 

You try not to listen in on their conversations as you know they don’t apply to you, but you most definitely are curious to see if Jake decides to partake in their plans. You busy yourself with a giant box of various crackers to fill the time. 

“Let’s just go to the hotel bar. I noticed it’s kinda secluded, not very big,” Josh suggests, earning a nod of agreement from Danny and Jake.

“Sounds good to me, make sure Dean knows,” Jake says as he pulls his drenched jacket off, hanging it on a wire hanger. Shit shit shit don’t look don’t look.

“Sounds like a plan. Hey, Y/N, you gonna join us?” Josh’s voice saying your name pulls you from your daydream of thinking about watching Jake take his jacket off again and again, causing you to perk up.

“What? Sorry…”

He laughs. “When you’re done here tonight, meet us at the hotel bar, yeah?” You watch Jake’s head snap your way out of your peripheral. 

“Yeah, Y/N, join us…” Mia adds, the smallest bit of songlike quality to her voice again, just like earlier.

You push the flyaway hairs away from your face, blowing a puff of air on them as you tuck the cardboard box of crackers back into the plastic tote. “Uh, yeah, sure. If I can get everything cleaned up in time, I’ll be there…” you answer on the fly, feeling as though you can’t turn the offer down. 

Jake stays silent as he picks up his backpack and heads out the door toward the showers, flashing his devious eyes at you before the door shuts behind him. 

—

JAKE POV

You only had to dodge the curious eyes of a few fans as you slipped around the corners of the hotel to the bar, being the last one to arrive, like always. Josh is seated at the bar with his back to you while Danny and Sam are standing at a table off to the side with Mia and Lyla. Thankfully, the bar is empty for the most part, only a couple unsuspecting older folks closing out their tabs. You pull out the heavy mahogany chair to the right of Josh, taking a seat as the bartender approaches you. 

“Hi, uh. Soda water with lime, please?” you ask, and he nods and flits away. “Where’s Ty?” you ask. 

“On his way down in a few minutes. He um, he’s actually walking Y/N down…” he responds, flicking his eyes behind the two of you. 

“Oh,” you respond, surprised. “Is that right?” You fold your arms across the bar top as the bartender sets your drink in front of you. 

“Yeah, he actually stuck behind a little to help her clean up the green room and get everything put away,” Josh explains further. 

You smile as you place your hand on his back. “You’ve got yourself a gentleman, brother. Must say.” Josh grins at your sentiment, pulling his straw between his lips. 

“Most kind hearted person I know,” he says. “Speaking of, seems like you and her are on a little better terms now, since we spoke last,” Josh looks behind you again, making sure you are out of earshot from the other guys. 

You huff through a breath, not sure whether or not you want to go into much detail of reliving one of the most humiliating nights of your life, thus far. But, maybe talking about it will put it in the past where it belongs. “Yeah, you could say that, I suppose. Had to fuckin’ work for it though…” you laugh through your nose. 

“What does that mean?” he asks.

You swallow down a rather large drink of your soda water, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate an answer. “Let’s just say we… had a less than eventful night last night, and I… wasn’t able to…” you take a fast breath. “Too many beers, too many phone calls from my tech, too much bullshit from Isla, I just…” you clench your jaw, trying to say it all without really saying it. 

But Josh nearly chokes on his drink. “Ex-fucking-scuse me? Wait, no no no…” he waves his hand in your face as he turns in his seat, running his fingers over his beard. “You seriously couldn’t…”

“That’s right Josh.” You stare straight ahead of you at the mirror behind the top shelf of liquors, finding your defeated reflection staring back at you. You glance at him in the mirror, watching him cover his face with both hands as he silent-laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he cries after a few seconds of laughing at your expense. “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not funny. It’s humiliating, and a little sad, actually,” you say flatly. “Go ahead, laugh away, get it out of your system.” 

He slaps his palms across the bar top a few times as he catches his breath, trying not to laugh so loud that he causes a scene. “Fuck. Has that ever happened to you? What was…?”

“No, god dammit. It’s never happened. I was sloshed, my phone was ringing incessantly, between Isla’s name popping up on my phone and knowing the crew needed me, I just… she was perfect, man. Beautiful, confident, everything was there, except…” 

“...Except… you,” he finishes your sentence. 

“Yeah,” you respond with a breath. “It worked out for a few minutes, surprisingly, and fuck if it wasn’t…” you held up the A-OK sign with your fingers, popping a ‘p’ sound. “But then everything went to shit.”

“And that’s why you’re having soda water tonight?”

“Eh, yeah. Just feel like if we’re gonna have a chance to have a conversation about it all, I want to be completely present,” you admit. Suddenly you feel the presence of Danny standing behind the two of you, ordering another round for Sam and the girls. You turn your attention to him. “Speaking of… hey asshole, why the fuck are you still buying Durex condoms? You’re a grown man with money, for god’s sake, use the good shit,” you ask Danny quietly. “You’re not 15 anymore.”

For your sake, so far Danny has done a good job of keeping your secret for you after you went running to his room last night in search of protection, just in case. 

“Jake, what the fuck are you talking about?” Danny asks with wide eyes, looking between you and Josh. 

“Don’t worry Daniel, I’m already informed. The youngest of us is not, though, so keep your fuckin’ mouth shut to him, you hear?” Josh defends you. 

“Jesus Christ, Jake. Listen, I don’t want to know what the fuck is going on with you and whoever, I’m not asking any questions,” Danny says as the bartender hands him their beers. He leans in closer, whispering between you and Josh. “But I haven’t used a fucking condom in almost a year. You had me digging in my reserve stash… it’s all I had, ok? Sorry if an XL wasn’t the size you needed…” Danny backs away, laughing with his tongue out.

“OH fuck you!” you howl back. “It was a piece of shit, just do yourself a favor and get the good kind, ok?” you whip your head back around as Danny rejoins the others. 

“Anyway…” you say as you finish off your soda water. “It was a night I want to forget, honestly. But I’m gonna redeem myself. I have to. I can’t leave it like that…”

“Maybe you should turn your phone off the next time you get an opportunity, just in case…” Josh suggests, and you nod in return. 

Just then you see a pair of arms wrapping around Josh’s neck, and you turn to see Ty and Y/N walking up behind you. 

“Hey, guys!” Josh says. “Please join us…” he pulls out the seat next to him for Ty and stands to give Y/N his own seat, before she puts a hand on his arm to stop him. 

“Thanks, Josh, but Paul, Wes and Corri are coming down, too. Dean’s coming, I’m gonna sit with them for a little while. Thank you for walking me down, Ty,” she flashes the three of you a warm smile, and you want to speak to her, but it's almost as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. She looks absolutely stunning, a little fixed up, but not too much. You can tell she looks as tired as you all do from the show, but you’d hardly know it. She has on a tight low-cut t-shirt dress with an oversized denim jacket over top, her hair a mess after being up all day. Her makeup had been re-done, and you’d be lying if you said the way her legs looked in that dress didn’t have you imagining things that were still a blurry memory from last night. 

“I’ll be back later…” she says, making eye contact with you. Again, you’re at a loss for words, so you give her a sweet nod. 

“I really like her,” Ty speaks up, filling the silence that has fallen over the three of you as soon as she’s gone. “You should dump Isla and go out with her, Jake.” The straw you had been chewing falls from your mouth and straight onto the floor. 

“What? What did you say?” you ask him. 

He shrugs one shoulder as he takes the seat next to Josh. “She’s cute. No bullshit, smart, and can obviously handle all the shit you guys have been throwing at her since she got here…”

You look to Josh, who seems just as surprised as you are. 

“I dunno. I mean I like Isla, don’t get me wrong, but. There’s just something off about her, and I don’t know what it is,” he continues, and you feel Josh’s widening eyes find you, telling you he has no idea where this is coming from, either. Ty reaches his hand across Josh to sit on top of yours. He looks you directly in the eye before speaking again, “Jake, I have an excellent read on people. And I’ve never steered you wrong, have I?” he asks. 

You slowly shake your head back and forth.

“That’s right. No. And I’m here to tell you, that girl likes you. A lot. She didn’t even have to say anything to me, and I can tell. She froze up when I mentioned your name earlier. And from all the time you spent on our couch the past couple of months, I know there’s something going on. Just know I’m here to talk about it if you feel like my partner here isn’t hearing you out, okay?”

You swallow hard as you take in Ty's words. He’s right, he's always been an excellent confidant for you, even letting you come to him a couple of times in the past for advice on different subjects. You love Ty just like you love your twin, and you never once have doubted his judge of character. 

Josh nods slowly, agreeing with every harsh word Ty has just delivered to you. Ty pats your hand as he releases it. 

“Take my advice, Jacob. I know Isla isn’t making you happy, and that girl…she just left your talkative ass completely unable to speak.” He smiles hard, turning his attention to the bartender, ordering a round of shots for everyone. You finally have a free second with Josh again.

“Guy knows what he’s talking about…” Josh suggests. “Maybe you should listen to him.”

You bite at your cheek as you nod your head. You know he’s right, of course he’s right. But you also know it’s just a little bit more complicated than that. The bartender slides you a fresh soda water, and as you pinch the lime between your fingers you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You drop the lime into the bubble water and take a quick drink as you pull your phone from your coat pocket. 

Y/N

11:46PM: Not drinking tonight?

You look over your shoulder knowing she is watching you, and you catch sight of her sitting at a cocktail table a couple of feet away with Wes and Corrine. Her eyes are locked on yours, a skinny straw between her teeth. You send her a playful smirk as you turn back to your phone, replying to her message. 

You

11:47PM: Not tonight, I have other plans…

You look at her as you pocket your phone, watching her face twist into a mischievous smile as she turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and grin before turning back to continue listening to Josh and Ty. You can feel her eyes on you and you have to admit it feels good. You feel like things might actually be okay between the two of you if you can continue to play your cards right.

“So do you wanna hit up that one place with the crazy wine list when we get to France? It was in Paris Metro, right?” Josh asks, tapping your arm with his hand. 

You know the exact place he is talking about, but right now your mind is somewhere else completely. “Oh, yeah yeah, it is. It was close to that tiny ass venue, remind me and I’ll look it up tomorrow on the flight.”

“Anywhere else you want to go? I think we have a day or two off while we’re there,” he asks, still trying to grab your full attention. 

“Um, maybe I’ll stop in to that rarity shop, see if they have anything interesting this time around,” you answer, doing your best to focus. 

“Oh shit, yeah, that’s where you got that crazy old guitar, right? From like the early 1900’s or whatever?”

“Yeah, exactly. Had to completely unstring the fucker to get it home without it snapping in two,” you laugh, remembering the hassle. 

“Any…other plans while in the city of love?” he croons, bumping shoulders with Ty. 

You look over your shoulder to check your surroundings before answering. You place your hand roughly on his shoulder and shake him a bit, “I guess that will depend on tonight, now won’t it?”

The two of you laugh as you notice commotion at the end of the bar. You turn yourself to look, only to find Lyla walking towards you with her phone to her ear.

“Jake?” she says, stepping up to you in a huff. She pulls the phone away from her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s Isla, she said you aren’t answering your phone, and I know I just saw you on it?”

Fucking hell Isla. 

You know you have to take the call, because if you do it now, there’s no chance of it happening later. You snatch the phone from her hand, holding it to your ear and exhaling an aggravated breath. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s up? I don’t know, Jake. You tell me what’s up! You aren’t answering any of my texts, you turned off your location days ago, you said you’d call me and you haven’t! Tell me what is going on!” she shouts into the phone. 

“Nothing is going on, Isla! I am at work, working, on tour. You know the thing that pays the bills? Also, I’m in a different country, a different time zone. But you know what, I know you aren’t stupid. You know all of this, so what’s up? What is so important that you had to call someone else to get ahold of me?”

You see Josh push past Lyla, grabbing you by the shoulders, “Hey I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing you backwards. You pull the phone away from your ear to hear him. He stares into your eyes, silently telling you to go with it.

“Oh, I have to go Isla, sorry. Here’s Lyla,” you say, pushing the phone back into Lyla’s hands. 

Lyla is staring you down as Josh finally stops, letting go of your shoulders. “I uh, I need you to go run an errand for me. Well, I need Y/N to go run an errand for me, but I need Dean to stay here to field those girls in the lobby, so I was wondering if you could accompany her?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“What?” you ask, admittedly very confused. 

“Yeah, just walk with me,” he says, walking you over towards the tables. “I need you to go run this errand—” he pauses, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear him. “Okay, yeah there is no errand.”

You send him yet another completely bewildered look. 

“There’s no errand, just…I don’t know, get out of here before someone asks questions. Go. Take her with you. She already knows and she thinks there is an errand,” he smiles smugly, “You can thank me later.”

For a moment you hesitate, unsure if you should go with his harebrained idea, but you decide to do it, knowing that he really only has your best interest at heart. He pretends to show you something on his phone, and you nod like you understand. You exhale a breath and nod towards him, “Yep, I’ll take care of that for you.”

“Yeah, perfect. Make sure you do a good job,” he quips, the meaning definitely not lost on you. 

You toss your hand towards him as you walk away, locking eyes with Y/N who is waiting near the door. You swallow down your nerves and make your way towards her, ready to make amends. 

“You uh, ready to go?” you ask, playing along with the charade. You pull the door open and allow her to step out first into the dimly lit hallway of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I just… Did he tell you what he needed or anything?” she asks, a confused look on her face. You laugh to yourself and purse your lips before answering. 

“Well, he doesn’t need anything. He kinda… bent the truth a bit to give us a chance to leave alone,” you answer honestly. 

A hum leaves her lips, as she stops in place turning to face you, “And how do you know that I want to leave with you?”

There's a playful grin on her face, but there's also a tinge of truth to her tone. You can’t read her, but you give it your best shot.

“Well, I have a pretty good feeling about it, but please enlighten me if I am mistaken,” you answer. 

She rocks back onto the heels of her shoes, turning to continue walking, “I see, are these those ‘other plans’ you were talking about?”

You bite your lips together and turn to look at her, “That remains to be seen, I suppose.”

The two of you start to approach the elevator bank, and you know you need to make your move. She hasn’t said much, or really given you any indication of whether she is into this playful little game or not, so you decide to cut your losses and leave the ball in her court. 

“I’m gonna go up to my room for the night. You can come up and join me for a night cap, or you can head back to your own room. Completely your choice, but if you decide to join me, I’m in room 507,” you finish, stopping just shy of the elevators. You give her a smile and nod your head before continuing to walk to the waiting elevator. 

Your heart is racing as you step inside, wondering if she is going to follow you, or better yet take you up on your offer. You press the button for floor five and watch as the doors close, a rush of nerves spreading through your body. You shake out your hands and pull your phone from your pocket seeing a myriad of missed calls and texts from Isla. You muted her notifications after everything last night, and you know that’s what prompted her call to Lyla. 

You tap your keycard to the door and step inside, the cool air of the AC hitting you like a brick wall. You step over and turn on the heat, needing the room to be at least a few degrees warmer. You take all of your things out of your pockets and deposit them on the nightstand, deciding to take Josh’s advice and power off your phone completely. You toss your jacket onto the small couch, removing the hair tie from your finger and tying your hair up into a knot. You reach for a bottle of water from the mini bar, downing what had to be half of it as you start to pace the room. 

You wonder if maybe she’s texted, or added a song, anything to give you some kind of indication of her answer, but you know that your phone is off and that you’re just going to have to wait this out the old fashioned way. You kick off your boots and push them to the side of your suitcase, digging around inside of it to change clothes, but deciding to wait just a little bit longer, just in case. You unbutton your shirt though, letting it hang open on your body as you step away from your suitcase.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the flashing clock on the nightstand and watching as the numbers flash as they change. Fuck, maybe she really isn’t coming.  

You lay back, completely spread across the fluffy white sheets letting out a sigh of exhaustion. The past two days have drained you. Mentally, physically… You felt like you could sleep for three days straight given the opportunity. You let your eyes flutter closed for just a second, and that's when you heard it. The tiniest knock on the door. Any softer and you wouldn’t have heard it, chalking it up to your brain playing tricks on you. 

You sat up instantly, listening for it again, and sure enough another set of small knocks echoed through the room. 

Holy shit, she came. 

You shoot up from the bed, smoothing out your hair and shaking out your arms. You were nervous, you’d admit that, but you were also bound and determined to make tonight better than the last. You’d thought of nothing else, since. 

—

HER POV

The sound of a little bit of rustling inside the door causes your heart to pick up speed, the sudden clarity of what you’re doing hitting you across the face. Sure, last night you’d been in a similar circumstance, but tonight…things feel different. Your second set of knocks on his door has finally jostled him. 

You hear the door knob turn and Jake opens it, hiding a little bit behind it as he invites you inside. 

“Hey,” he says, his voice raspy. “Didn’t think you were gonna come up.”

You walk inside the room, smelling the remnants of the cologne he spritzed on before he came down to the bar still lingering in the air. “I almost didn’t, but, I think…we need to talk about a few things…” you reply, awkwardly holding your hands together at your stomach as he closes the door behind you. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you finally catch sight of him, his black button-down undone all the way, and his hair tied back in a low knot at his neck. Jesus Christ, he’s a sight, even when he isn’t even trying. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he agrees, patting the half-made bed for you to sit on. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning to the mini fridge. 

“Ah, no, I’m okay, thank you,” you reply, finally setting your purse down on the bed beside you. Things feel a bit different now as you’re both sober and serious, about to discuss something so inherently embarrassing it was almost too painful to even think about. But it has to be done, suck it up, and get it over with so that you can get on with the night…right?

“Yeah, me neither,” he agrees. You watch as he pulls a pair of sweatpants from his bag. “Care if I go change real quick?” he asks, erring on the side of etiquette for some reason, when last night you both saw more of each other than you’d really planned on. 

“No, go ahead,” you say, and he slips into the bathroom. You take this second to take off your thick denim jacket and hang it on the back of a chair, and also remove your shoes and socks and place them neatly beside the door. You’re left in the comfy tight t-shirt dress, and you try to remind yourself that last night never even happened. It wasn’t real. Be cool. 

You relax back on the pillows a little as you strive to get comfortable on the bed, not wanting to seem too relaxed but also be nonchalant, like this conversation was about to be the simplest thing you’d ever done. You tuck your barren legs up underneath you, leaning on your elbow against the thick white pile of pillows. 

He finally emerges, now clad in a pair of dark gray sweatpants that are hugging his hips, and he’s completely devoid of a shirt at all. Before you can drink him in all the way, he’s sitting on the bed in front of you, crossing his legs and reaching for the remote, muting the TV. 

You sit up to meet him, suddenly surprised at the amount of attention he’s paying you. He takes both of your hands into his, clammy but warm on your skin, and brings them to gather in his lap. 

“Y/N,” he begins, “I don’t want to talk about this just as much as you probably don’t, but… I think I have some explaining to do,” he starts, his voice just a tad bit shaky as you know he is about to bare it all. 

“I feel absolutely terrible about how things ended up last night. That was…not me, at all. I’d had too much to drink, and my phone was being the annoying piece of shit that it is… anyway, I’m not trying to make excuses.” He squeezes your hands and scoots himself a little closer to you, still staring directly into your eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but. You’ve got me caught up, and…it’s not something I’m used to, Y/N,” he giggles, making you smirk back. 

“Last night should have had a different outcome completely, and I blame myself for it. You can blame me for it, too. I just want you to know I’m sorry, and you were… fuck, you were beyond perfect—”

You cut him off, “You’re sure it wasn’t anything I’d done?”

“No! No no, you were fucking…flawless, Y/N. My vision may have been a bit blurry but you had it all. You have it all. Absolutely everything. And I feel like such a fucking dick that I didn’t get to…repay you. Give it back to you… you deserved more, and I’m…mortified. Humiliated over it. I wanted to dig a hole and cover myself up and never ever come out of it, honestly. I still do. It’s like the worst thing that can— anyway, you deserve to be treated right, you deserve to be shown the same kind of effort you were showing me last night…” you feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. 

You lean a little into his hand, the feeling of his touch making you flutter with butterflies. “…And I haven’t thought of another goddamn thing since.”

You giggle a little. “Come on now,” you say shyly. “You’re a famous rock star, there’s no way your mind’s been taken up with me all day. I’m probably the lowest on your list of past flings.” You’re honest in your admission of feelings, but you secretly hope it will just fuel him to keep talking. 

“No, think again, Y/N.” His voice suddenly deepens. “That’s absolutely untrue.” His fingertips trickle to the back of your neck. “The way your hips felt in my hands, the way you took over control and put matters into your own hands…fuck. And your mouth…” his thumb is pressing a little harder, now. “Yeah, I haven’t had a clean thought all day, if we’re being honest,” he laughs. You pull one hand away from his grip and place it on his knee, squeezing it just a little as your bodies slowly inch closer and closer in toward one another. 

“I’ve never met another woman that’s captivated me so quickly before,” he continues, his breaths now shorter and chopped as he speaks. “You came in and fucked my whole world up, Y/N… You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years. You make me nervous…” 

Your faces are within inches now as you return his gaze, listening to him talk. Your hand drifts higher on his thigh, gently squeezing at the muscle as it climbs. His hand is still firmly gripping your face, the ends of his fingertips now tickling at your hairline. You can feel the tingles going up and down your spine like flashing lights, each word that escapes from his mouth setting the next one on fire. 

Finally you speak. “Look, Jake, you don’t have to explain anything else to me. I realize that something was off last night, and that isn’t how things probably go for you normally. I’ve felt our chemistry, and there’s something…there, ya know? And honestly there for a few minutes, we actually had things going, and I think we had it figured out. You felt…” you bite your lips together, feeling a little shy. “You felt really fucking good. But I don’t want you to be embarrassed or upset with yourself. We’re adults, and I’m aware that shit happens. Not every time can be perfect. You were still on my mind all day long, today. Been hoping you would text me, something,” you go on, feeling his fingertips grip and release your hair every few seconds.

A sly smile creeps to his lips as you watch his eyes squint. He looks relieved, but there’s also something else. “I hope you know that I’m more than capable of…making you feel good, and I’d really like it if you’d give me a second chance to redeem myself. I wanna prove it to you.”

You can do nothing but nod your head, feeling the magnetism of his pull bringing you forward, both of your chests heaving with want for each other now. You’re absolutely dying to touch him, reach out and feel the electricity radiating from his body, but you stop yourself. You’re going to let him make the first move. 

You exhale onto him, letting the thick, hot air from your lungs dance across his lips as he releases your other hand, letting it come up to cup your other cheek. Your foreheads balance on one another’s, and you can feel the palpable tension building up second by second. 

“Thank you, for hearing me out,” he whispers onto your lips, before gently pressing them onto yours, an almost featherlight peck. You both pull back for a second, taking a final look at one another before you crash into each other’s mouths again, heated, fiery, and wanting. 

Your other hand grips his thigh, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from pouncing on him, laying him back into the sheets and devouring him, but you hold back. You want to take your time, and you know he wants to do this the right way. 

The kiss deepens, your tongues reaching far to taste every bit that they can. His hands slowly drift from your jawline to your shoulders and finally to your chest, lightly letting his fingertips descend before resting again on your hips. You’re both still sitting cross-legged on the bed, your knees touching each other’s as you each lean in. You want to make the next move, but again, you want to let him steer this ship as much as he wants to. 

So for the moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss, concentrating and honing in on committing every detail of it to your memory. He’s not forceful, but he doesn’t hold back, either. It’s the perfect mix of control and submission, and you haven’t even moved past the most basic part yet. His hands move again, sneaking under your legs to pull you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sit on his lap. 

Your chests are pressed together now, heaving and already breathless. You can feel that he’s excited below you; thankfully things are already going way better than they were last night. You continue to devour one another, touching and feeling and pulling every piece of him that you could, and him doing the same in return. A quick visual pops into your mind- you’d worn a skimpy little red lace thong just in case, and now you’re silently thanking yourself for the choice, knowing that when the time comes, he’s going to go absolutely insane at the sight of you in it. 

You take a second to pull away, grinding yourself down onto him as you trail lovebites down his neck and shoulder, and the sounds that growl from his chest make your nails dig into his skin. He hisses a little bit, but you’re more than positive that he likes the sensation. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto him again, making you take complete notice that he wants you just as badly. He leans his neck sideways as your tongue drifts from his collarbone up his jugular, the artery pulsing hard beneath your lips. You bite it lightly before continuing up to his ear, gently taking his ear lobe between your teeth. 

You feel him pull back and laugh a little through his nose, and you’re sure you’ve found a sensitive spot. You grind yourself onto him again, this time pulling a full on groan from him. You leave your mouth hovering over his ear, blowing tiny bits of cold air onto the trail of saliva you’d left behind. 

“I feel you, baby…” you whisper, allowing yourself the satisfaction of using a pet name for the very first time. His body language shifts, all his muscles tightening as you speak. “Wanna feel you more…” you mutter quietly, making his dick twitch between your legs. You could feel your warmth on the bulge of his sweatpants, and you secretly wish he would get on with it.

“You wanna do this…” he whispers back, his voice tight and gravely.

You nod hard, completely positive that you were going to go ahead with this second chance. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…”

Finally, he reaches down to grip your thighs, squeezing his palms over them before gripping the hem of your dress, rolling it up over your hips, your chest, and finally over your head. Your arms fly up to help him remove the dress completely before he lets it fall to the floor beside you. His eyes black out with lust, his jaw falling open at the sight of you only in your bra and panties. He saw you like this last night, of course, but things are different now. Each of you has something to prove.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he says, immediately burying his face between your breasts, rolling his tongue just beneath the thin fabric of your black bra. “Who knew you had all this hiding…” His hands reach up and grip the material, pulling it down to reveal your tits, bouncing and standing at attention for him. His hands waste no time rolling across them, kneading the muscle as your head falls back. His fingers massage your nipples and pull at the skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. God, you swear you could get off just from this…

He puts his right hand at the center of your sternum, pressing you back gently until you’re laid out on the bed. He scrambles to his knees, finally hovering over you a little. He lets his fingers glide from your chest down your stomach, finally hooking in the hem of your thong. He doesn’t pull it off, though… Instead he runs his fingers along the hem, around your hip, and to your asscheek, using his leverage and grip on the muscle to yank you back down toward him.

Your knee bends on its own from the motion, causing your legs to part a little as your core hits his knee. He bends down, laying sweet kisses to your stomach and hips, causing you to buck up and whine with every tiny little touch. 

“Please Jake…” you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you soon, your core absolutely throbbing with want for him. Last night, you felt these same feelings. You felt this pull to him, this need. But after how it all went down, sitting there on your bed staring at the wall was the only reaction that seemed plausible… no post-sex afterglow, no blissful body aches… just an unsatisfied and discouraged feeling of letdown. 

But now, twenty-four hours later, as you feel your body being pulled into him and touched by him again, you want nothing more than to replicate those few minutes of really good sex that you’d been able to achieve last night. Your body was practically begging you to let him have it. 

You hear the air kick on in the room, and though you know it’s the heat, you still feel the blow of the fan forcing air across your nearly nude body. You feel chill bumps cover your entire body as you shudder a little.

“Fuck, got cold in here, didn’t it,” Jake breathes, shivering a little bit himself. “Come on, let’s get under the covers.” You don’t argue with him, feeling a chill diving down deep into your bones. 

You sit up as he stands, pulling the heavy white linens back for you to get under. “Wait,” you say, walking on your knees back toward him. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, returning to kissing him hard as you pull them and his boxers all the way off. He smiles onto your lips, falling sideways a little as he trips over them around his ankles. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace as your hands tangle in his hair, gripping into it as you pull him back down onto the bed with you. 

You both slide underneath and cozy up, letting the warmth come over you and calm you back down again. It’s the sight of him, though, crawling into the bed with his eyes trained on you, fully nude with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth that sends you over the edge. Suddenly your chest is heavy and your eyes are glazed with lust, that blinding feeling of carnal need setting into your lower abdomen. You don’t feel this feeling much, but when you do, you know that what you’re about to experience will be nothing short of mind blowing…it’s like the universe knows you need to let go of all human emotion if you’re going to let your body experience the interaction just as it is. 

Suddenly you find yourself flipped up and straddling his legs, pulling the comforter over your head as you descend down his body. “Whoa whoa, where you going?” he smirks, his smile crooked as his hands balance by his head. 

“You can prove the rest to me in a minute. I never got to finish this part last night…” you say, disappearing into the darkness of the covers. You hear his laugh fall out as an exasperated huff, but he knows better than to stop you. You put your fingertips on the insides of his thighs, pushing them away from one another as you lightly tickle your nails up them, stopping short as you take his fully-hard dick in your palm, slowly working it from bottom to top. 

“Thereeeee you are…” you sing in a teasing tone. Fuck yeah, there he is. This is what you felt that night in the bathroom. This is the him that wasn’t out to play last night. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you hear him laugh lowly, gently patting a hand against your cheek. You can’t see him, but you know the exact expression that’s probably on his face right now. 

You squeeze him as you work your hand, gently letting your lips graze his head as you stick your tongue out a little, barely wetting the tip. You taste his saltiness on your tongue, a tell-tale sign that he is absolutely ready for whatever else the night has to bring. You let the flavor sit on your tongue for a second before you take him down completely, knowing that if he has any memory of you doing this last night, it was probably spotty, at best. 

“Fuck, baby…shit…” he says from the head of the bed, his thighs clenching together a little as his hands dip under the blankets to tangle in your hair. You begin to go to work, feeling halfway happy you are hiding away, able to perform without his watchful eye, but also a little sad he isn’t getting to see the show you’re putting on for him. 

Like he can hear your thoughts, he speaks again, “What, you not gonna let me watch you?” He asks with a little demand in his tone, pushing the sheets up over your head to finally make eye contact. You decide to capitalize on it, fluttering your eyelashes as you take him as far as he can go, letting his tip graze the back of your throat. If he wants to watch, you’re going to give him something worth watching. 

His reaction is warranted as you see him lose composure for a second, letting his head tilt back into the pillows as his jaw falls open and he lets out a cry that will be playing in the back of your mind until you fall asleep tonight. His hand tightens in your hair while the other one scoops up what has fallen in front of your face, moving it away from your mouth. His teeth grit hard as his hand pulls your hair, lifting you off and back down onto him just a little bit. 

Your imagination starts to soar; it’s been a while since you’ve had a good romp, and after the letdown of last night and Jake promising to give you a good run tonight, you decide to keep the show rolling. You pop your lips off of him letting him drop your hair, spinning yourself around backwards to straddle him that way. Again, you thank yourself for the everything shower and shave this morning, knowing that now, the thin strip of red lace fabric is the only thing covering you as your ass is fully on display in front of his face. 

Is it an invitation? Kind of…he said he wants to show off for you…right?

“God damn, girl…” he says through another rasp, his hand gripping your asscheek as you take him in your mouth again. You sway your hips side to side, arching your back to give him a full view of you. You feel the slightest tinge of embarrassment at your somewhat bold switch up, but after feeling his reaction and the actual pounding of the blood pumping through his dick, you know it’s all worth it. 

Finally, after a string of curses from his mouth behind you, you feel his fingers slip under the thong, pulling it to the side as his fingers begin to explore you. First soft and gentle, but then switching to more of a rhythm as he feels how soaked you are. You moan onto his dick, letting your stomach fall into his as you lean back into his touch. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby, just like last night. Gonna take care of you, I swear it…” he grumbles. His thumb finds your clit after pulling your wetness down to coat it, his digits slipping and sliding as he uses more pressure. 

You whimper loudly without warning, the fire burning in your belly finding you more quickly than you’d anticipated. 

You pop your mouth off of him for a breath, and he takes the second of separation to grab both of your hips, pulling you backward toward him. His tongue swipes once from your clit to your opening before he slides himself underneath you in one quick motion, pulling you down to be completely seated on his face. 

Oh, there we go…

Should you do it? Should you go all in?

You only have a few seconds to toss it over in your mind before his hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down onto him even more. Yeah, he wants you to. His mouth is immediately connected to you, his tongue outstretched and licking over you as your hands balance on his stomach. “Fuuuuccckk…” you whine at a high-pitched tone, letting your head tilt back on your shoulders. 

He’s wasting nothing at all. No time, no contact, no area of you goes untouched by his mouth. You begin swirling your hips, picking up a little every few seconds as you grind onto his tongue. It’s hot, but you still feel the chill of the air in the room, causing you to break out in another rush of goosebumps from the air and the pleasure. You catch a small glimpse of the two of you in the hotel room mirror, the visual more than you can bear as his tongue flicks across your sensitive bud again. 

“Jake…shit…if you keep doing that…” your nails dig into his pecs again as you begin to feel your knees burning, your hips swirling and bouncing as he holds you steadily connected with his mouth. Even when you try to pull off to give him a breather, he pats your thighs with his fingertips, telling you to come back down. 

“Mmmhm…” he agrees, shaking his face against you, the slight prickle of his mustache a blissful roughness on your sensitive spots. “Lemme have it, baby…” he works out, bending one knee up to sturdy himself. You can hear the pants of breath he’s taking as he talks before yanking your body weight right back down onto him again. 

Your vision is beginning to blur as you feel the tightness forming in your stomach, every inch of you on fire as you feel the release building and building. Your movements become chopped and faulty, and just as you’re about to lose all composure, Jake grips the back elastic of your thong, letting the stretchy material snap back against your skin. The tinge of pain sends you toppling over the edge, your entire body shaking and trembling as everything goes white. He continues his work, his tongue still snaking and swirling in the most animalistic way, letting you ride through it until you’re back on earth. 

When you’re finally able to breathe again, you lean forward onto all fours so he can sit up all the way, and instead of crashing back down beside him, all you want to do is give him more. Let him give you more. That was just a preview. Now…you want him. You need to feel him inside of you again. 

You turn in the bed, catching sight of his face covered in your slick…his lips pink and blotchy as he runs his hands across his face. You inch your way back over to him, using your own palm to wipe from his forehead down to his chin, twisting your fingers over his chin to bring his face crashing onto yours again. You let your tongue sink into his mouth, tasting yourself as you kiss him with everything you have. 

Your hands are all over each other as he takes you in one arm, pulling you back underneath the covers with him again. “I can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Y/N…I need you right the fuck now.” 

You’re lying beneath him now, still riding the high of your overwhelmingly good orgasm, but quickly making your way back up to arousal again with the sight of him so wanting for you. His state is almost pathetic, the look on his face pitiful but commanding as his jaw clenches over and over again. 

Your hands are attached to his sides as he reaches into the floor for his pants from earlier, pulling out a little square package. You notice it’s a different kind than the one he had last night, and you’re thankful he’s switched brands. 

“Hurry, Jake…” you say, your heart pounding in your ears. You watch as he rips the wrapper in half with his teeth, removing the colored condom and spitting the trash onto the floor. He’s sat back on his haunches and you perk up onto your elbows, using one hand to help him slide it over himself, completely hard and ready for you. 

You feel like you could spontaneously combust at any second, the need for him stronger than anything you’ve felt in a long, long time. The way he looks sitting between your parted knees, adoring every inch of you as he swallows down any inhibition or doubt that he’s still holding onto from the embarrassment of last night. 

He takes a second more to place his hands on your knees, letting them drift down between your legs as he connects his two middle fingers to swirl your clit again. Your legs part even further as he kisses you again, finally towering over you completely before removing his hand, grabbing himself and lining up with you. 

“Show me again…” you whisper into his ear, his hair completely falling all over your face. It’s mere seconds before you feel him gently press into you, only an inch or two before retracting his hips, letting out a calming exhale before he presses forward again, this time a little further. The stretch is blowing your mind already, your nails traveling down his back to grip his ass, willing him to fill you to the hilt. 

“Easy, baby…just take it as I give it to you,” he growls in your ear, and his commanding words make you cease your movements altogether, releasing your strong grip on his back. 

“No no…keep doing that, though…fuck, keep doing that…” he begs, touching his forehead to yours. His brows are pinched together, his tongue darting out to lick his lips every few seconds as his eyelids flutter open and closed. You do as he says, digging your nails into him as he thrusts slowly, each time a little further in. 

The sensation is overwhelming, taking away every single one of your senses and directing them toward what he is making you feel right now. The noises you already can’t stop yourself from making are bouncing off the walls as you look behind him, watching his hips move the covers as he fills you, over and over until he finally bottoms out. 

“God…fuck, Jake….” You both make pathetic sounds as he pauses there, letting himself feel you wholly. He pulls up, taking a rutted breath as he makes desperate eye contact with you. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss, eliciting a high pitched wail from him as he starts picking up a pace. 

He breaks away after a second or two, “‘m not gonna go easy on you, baby…let me know if I need to slow down…” his words rip through your chest as if you’d just gotten a shot to the heart. You shake your head side to side. 

“Lemme see it, come on…” you pant, already feeling your muscles doing their best to pull him in as far as your body will let him. 

He picks up the pace now, jutting his hips deeply into you. The feeling is making your head feel cloudy and dense, but the pleasure filling your bloodstream is the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. He pauses, sitting up a little to toss your leg over his shoulder, slowing down just a little bit as he hits from a different angle. This one is deeper and titled a little, and you can feel the tip of him grazing your cervix with every push. 

He can tell your facial expression has changed as he slows down again, almost to a complete stop. “What baby, you okay?” he asks. 

“No no, yeah, don’t stop…please…” you motion with your hand for him to continue, the sickening pleasure mixed with the tightening pain, a blissful concoction that is hard to admit you love. But you do. You love it all. 

His pace becomes furious again as he picks up where he left off, your leg draped over his shoulder as he has one hand over your knee, and the other gripping into the muscle of your thigh. He’s squeezing so hard, and his hips are pounding at such a forceful pace that you’re sure he is leaving bruises, but they’ll be bruises that you accept without argument, admiring them as you look in the mirror tomorrow. 

He’s everything, right now…his eyes delving deep into yours as you drink him in, letting your sounds let him know how good he’s making you feel. How perfect you fit, how much better this is going than it did last night…

Suddenly he pulls all the way out of you, lifting your body to flip onto your stomach. His hands are under your hips, pulling them back again just the same as he had done earlier, but this time he hops to the floor, pulling you back again to meet him on the edge. “Hold on, baby,” he instructs, and you do, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists as you feel him enter you from behind, this time. 

The height couldn’t be more perfect as this new position makes you drop your face to the mattress, fully surrendering yourself to him. You haven’t felt anything like him before, each and every move he makes is making your nerve endings burn with fire. 

He lays a harsh smack to your ass, and you grunt in rebuttal, letting the delicious pain surge through your muscle. His pace quickens again, and his hand is on the back of your neck, pinning his fingers to either side of your throat from behind. “Fuck yes…” you breathe out, your eyes beginning to fill with clouds. 

You hear the smack of his lips, knowing that he’d just wet his finger, and suddenly his other hand quickly finds your clit again, swirling tiny circles on it and sending you into a whole new wave of satisfaction. Your cries push out with every thrust, and you feel like you’re on the verge of tears. It’s all overwhelming and encompasses your every thought, the sounds of your bodies hitting together making it all even more devious when you close your eyes, imagining the scene. 

He continues this way for a minute or so, the sounds of your bodies smacking together building up your second orgasm on their own. 

Then, he’s pulling your torso up, your back meeting his chest as he slows the pace of his thrusts, but never letting up on the swirl of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…so perfect…” his words are calm now as he begins kissing your neck, still pumping in and out of you. His arm wraps around your front, pulling you back into him so you don’t collapse forward. He can tell you’re close. 

“Jake…I’m almost…” you breathe, and you feel his dick twitch inside you. 

“Me too, baby. Keep squeezing me just like that…” he asks as a whisper in your ear, his mouth still connected to your neck, his other hand gripping your tit. 

With a particularly pointed flick to your clit, and a deep thrust, your entire world is crumbling beneath you, your body falling to pieces as you let it all go. His fingers squeeze your nipple hard, sending that sensation into overdrive. He isn’t far behind as his grip tightens all over you, his pace now rutted and messy as you hear him groaning in your ear. The entire world goes quiet for a minute as you hit the peak of your highs together, rendering both of you speechless as you hold your breath. 

“Motherfucker…” he says as he finally comes back down, releasing you to fall forward onto the bed. All of your muscles are limp and lifeless as he collapses beside you, both of you too sweaty now to care about cuddling back up together. 

“Yeah, mother fucker,” you laugh, pulling away a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead and cheek. “That’s was…you were…” you open your mouth to find the words, but they simply don’t come. 

He props up on his elbows, kissing a sweet peck onto your shoulder. “I don’t know what you were going to say, but I agree…” he chuckles. “You’re near goddamn perfect, Y/N.”

“Near?! What do you mean, near?!” you joke, shoving his mouth off of your shoulder. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Fuckin’ amazing, is what I meant. Flawless in every single way,” he says, his cheeks turning the sweetest shade of crimson. 

You take turns in the bathroom cleaning up, and you can’t wipe the smile that’s permanently plastered to your face. He’d done it all, he’d proven himself to you, in the most mind-blowing way you could have dreamt up. You don’t want to admit it, but you can see yourself getting caught up by Jake just as he admitted he is caught up by you. And after sex like that, well…

You begin to pick up your things from the floor and redress just as he is coming out of the bathroom. “No no, where are you going?” he asks, his tone a little let down. 

“I’m…going back to my room…” you say, caught off guard. 

“No. Stay here, please? After that I– I don’t know, I don’t want you to go,” he says. “Please stay.”

You laugh, tossing your shoes back into the corner. “You sure? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?”

He scoffs. “The fuck would I get in trouble for?”

“I’m your employee, Jake…” you remind him. 

His face contorts up. “I don’t like how that sounds, remember.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a large white t-shirt, tossing it your way. You pull it over your head as he flips the light off, pulling the disheveled sheets back again for you both to climb into. You have to admit, you’re glad he asked you to stay, as you’re not sure if your tired muscles would have liked walking down the long hall to the elevator. 

He pulls you in to spoon him, turning on the TV to the guide channel. His body feels perfectly aligned with yours as his hand rests on the outside of your thigh, the other propping his head up above yours. 

“You’re a woman that I’ve taken a keen interest in, and am enjoying pursuing, and well, occasionally sleeping with every now and then. Who sometimes goes on errands for us,” he says in retaliation, making you giggle. 

“…and your company also signs my paychecks,” you retort. 

He hisses in a quick breath. “Ehhhh yeah, I guess you’re right. But just, I don’t like how it sounds. So quit saying it like that.” He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, sealing in his words. 

“Okay, okay,” you agree. 

After a few minutes, he speaks again through a yawn. “So, did I prove myself? Was my attempt at redemption enough to make you forget last night ever even happened?” he asks. 

You close your eyes as you press your ass into his groin again, making him hop back a little in surprise. “Jake, I told myself last night never even happened as soon as you left my room,” you admit, and you are telling the truth. “I knew there was no way…”

You hear him huff a tiny laugh, “You had some faith in me, baby?”

Your blood runs a little hotter every time he calls you baby, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t completely enamor you. 

You twist your body beneath his hand to lay on your back. You fluff the pillow beneath your head, feeling his free hand move to assist you in finding the perfect position. His right hand doesn’t leave your body though, sliding just under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare stomach. “Maybe just a little.”

JAKE POV

Her skin is warm beneath your hand, her body still cooling down after the activities of the last hour. It was perfect. Every single thing you ever wanted it to be and even a little more. She is perfect. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you saw her grabbing her things, there was no way you could let her leave this room thinking that this was just sex. I mean, yeah maybe that was your intention tonight, but there was something else. You know that the sex wouldn’t have been what it was if there wasn’t something more lying beneath the surface. You wanted her to stay here with you. You wanted to hold her and be with her and enjoy the afterglow.

Even in the dark room you can’t take your eyes off of her. The way the TV is flashing blue light across her face she almost looks angelic. You let your fingers trace tiny circles into her skin as you look at her, completely enamored with every single detail of her. You reach for the remote flipping through the channels looking for anything you could mindlessly fall asleep to. 

“Should I pick something and show you what a good movie looks like?” you tease, tickling your fingers into her stomach. 

“I know what good movies are, thank you very much,” she quips, turning her head to look at you. Her eyes are shiny as they look into yours, lingering for just a second before flicking back to the TV. 

Her hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, your face falling into her touch on its own accord. 

“Hey…” she whispers, waiting for you to look at her. “Tell me why you were so in your head yesterday.”

Fuck. Do you tell her? Do you tell her the real reason? Do you risk ruining this moment with the truth?

“Ahh…It was a lot of things. Tour, traveling, the drinking, obviously. Also just a lot of pressure to do this and do that…or, don’t do this, and don’t do that. It’s hard sometimes, living this lifestyle. It’s incredibly isolating, and after a while you almost start to lose touch with what’s real,” you answer, skirting around the real reason. 

She rolls to face you, not letting her hand leave your jaw as she presses a soft, delicate kiss to your lips. You feel your whole body relax into her, feeling a peace come over you that you haven’t felt in a long time. A kiss that told you she understands. 

“I’m here, and this is real and you don’t have to feel isolated anymore, if you don’t want to,” she breathes. 

You kiss her again, pulling her into you just a little closer. “I don’t want to.”

“Good,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours. 

She drops her hand and nuzzles her face into your neck, a soft sigh falling from her lips. You know she’s tired, because you’re tired. You let your own head fall back onto the pillows, your arm wrapped around her shoulders as she snuggles into your side. You can’t help but let Josh’s words from yesterday float through your mind. You wonder if what you are doing is wrong, if you should make sure Isla knows you two are done before pursuing Y/N any further. Though, it’s a little too late for that.

You push it away as you feel Y/N drifting off to sleep on your chest, but now your mind is racing and you need to quiet it. You reach over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and powering it back on. You’re immediately met with about ten missed calls and too many texts to count. You quickly open them, clearing out the notifications but paying no mind to what they say. Instead you open your shared playlist, the perfect song coming to mind. 

You sneakily add ‘Are You Satisfied?’ by Reignwolf to the playlist, knowing she will get a laugh out of that when she sees it. You turn your face to her head, letting your lips brush the crown of her head as you breathe her in. The feeling of her next to you and her deep rhythmic breathing is starting to slow your busy mind. You lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand, turning off the TV and letting your eyes close. You replay the night in your head, every perfect second of it, praying that it will make an appearance in your dreams tonight. 

—

You aren’t sure what woke you, maybe the heat of the room, or the slamming of the door in the hallway. Your eyes pop open, scratchy and dry as they adjust to the darkness of the room. You immediately feel Y/N next to you, no longer on your chest but her legs still tangled with yours. Your heart swells at the vision of her curled up in the bed next to you. 

You reach out for your phone, tapping the screen to see what time it is. 4:46AM.

You see that a new song has been added to your shared playlist, and you smile knowing that Y/N must have woken up sometime during the night and saw your addition. You tap the notification and bring up the playlist to see what she added, letting a small laugh leave your lips as it loads. ‘Whatta Man’ by Salt-n-Pepa was added two hours ago. She’s so fucking cute you could hardly stand it. You had half a mind to wake her up and show her all over again just how much you wanted her. 

However, when you close out of the playlist a new round of missed calls graces your screen, along with a seemingly endless string of texts from Isla. You let out a sigh as you tap the message icon to see what she could possibly need this badly. 

Opening the messages you see a link to Danny’s close friends story sent at nearly one in the morning. You furrow your brow and tap on the video, seeing Sam and Lyla taking tequila shots together, but of course in the background of the video just barely noticeable, is you leaving the bar with Y/N. 

Goddamnit Daniel. 

Isla

1:12AM: Who the fuck that girl Jake?

Isla

1:25AM: She’s cute, nice!

Isla

1:30AM: Is this why you’ve been so “busy” all the sudden?

Isla

1:41AM: Does she even know about us or is she just some whore you found while you’re there

Isla

1:52AM: Nevermind! It was almost too easy to find her profile, this her? Y/N?  

Isla

1:55AM: Oh my god, she works for you… 

Isla

1:56AM: Management is gonna love this. ❤️

Isla

1:58AM: How about you just call me tomorrow

Mother fucker. Motherfucker. 

You debate getting out of bed to call her right now. You know how she is and you know what she is capable of, and you’d be goddamned if that woman was going to ruin this for you. You start to type, the fury boiling in your veins as your thumbs swipe across the keyboard, but suddenly you feel Y/N stirring next to you and it’s as if all the rage you were holding in disappeared. She rolls towards you, her hand coming to rest on your arm as she snuggles her head down into the pillow. You felt yourself relax under her touch, and instantly the message on your screen didn’t seem to matter. You deleted everything you typed and closed out of it, placing your phone back on the nightstand. 

You looked at her, sleeping so peacefully next to you and decided that all of that could wait. You knew that it would only be a matter of time before Isla made her move, and when she did she would strike to kill. You grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into you, feeling her fit so perfectly, so naturally into your arms that it made you weak. 

You knew there was a chance that this night, this one night, may be all you get with her, and you were going to enjoy every single last second of it, knowing that morning would come, and with it a likely very nasty conversation between you and Isla. But more than that, it brought the promise that Y/N’s face would be the first thing you would see, and that alone had you closing your eyes ready to face another day.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk@myownparadise96 @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @gvf-luna @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby

[starwarsmum]

Day 30 of Maribat March is Ruthless! The current final part to A Visit to Paris (but someone has already made me promise to write more 😂)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

@maribatserver

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61067752/chapters/165015418

It took less than a week before Damian saw Lila getting akumatised. She had cornered him in the locker room before school while Marinette was doing some of her class representative duties and everyone else was busy. Marinette had warned him that, because he hadn't fallen in line, he was likely to be approached with a similar threat to her own so he was prepared and merely sneered at her.

“I highly doubt you could cause real problems for me. My father trusts me and Marinette is already aware of your true personality. Nobody else in this godforsaken school is worth my time or effort, least of all you. But please, feel free to do your worst,” he said with an eye roll before bumping his shoulder into hers as he passed. 

Before he had even cleared the room he heard her say ‘Of course, Hawkmoth’ and dark purple washed over her, leaving behind the same orange monstrosity he had defeated when he had donned the Ladybug earrings. He sighed and headed for the classroom, intending to get Marinette out so she could transform and end the threat. 

The fight was short, Ladybug taking no time trying to talk the akuma down. Damian enjoyed watching her be ruthlessly efficient with the liar and he was now positive the wretch was working with Hawkmoth. How else could she have been akumatised so quickly if Hawkmoth hadn't been anticipating anger in one of them? It probably rankled both of them greatly that he had only been amused by her threats.

The wait for school to end was excruciating and as soon as it did he dragged Marinette to the hotel to discuss it with his family. To her credit, she didn't question him as he pulled her after him towards the hotel, trusting that he would tell her whatever he needed to when he could.

Once they were securely in the hotel suite, Damian explained what he had seen and deduced from the day. Marinette nodded like she had assumed as much but Tim and Jason looked horrified that a teenage girl was willingly working with a terrorist. When they voiced this horror, Marinette only shrugged sadly.

“She has her own issues and whatever, I think she has a personality disorder to be honest,” she said. “It doesn't excuse it but I think with the right kind of help she could be better. But it does make me think that revisiting Gabriel as Hawkmoth holds a lot of merit; she's weirdly close to the man.” 

“You said you dismissed him before because he was akumatised, correct?” Damian asked in response, thinking hard. “Did you not reconsider him once Mayura entered the scene?” 

“I really should have,” Marinette said, looking guilty and sad. “It's just been a crazy year, everything's happened so fast.” 

“Well, we're considering him again now,” Tim said grimly, pulling up the notes for Gabriel Agreste. The rest of the evening was spent planning how they were going to confront Gabriel and prove if he was Hawkmoth.

_ _ _

Once they had it planned out, Marinette transformed and left a message for Chat Noir to let him know she would be joining him on patrol that night - with the Bats. She was excited; all their research, the planning, the hardships…it could all be over. And she had a very good feeling about this. It would be crushing if she was wrong but she was too amped up to consider it. 

Chat joined them at the top of the Eiffel Tower just after they had arrived and raised a hand in greeting. Things had been different between them since Damian had used the Dragon Miraculous but he hadn't talked to her about whatever was bothering him. 

“Hey Bug, what's new? You sounded pretty wound up in your message,” he remarked, leaning against his staff as he eyed the group. 

“Hey Chaton! We think we know who Hawkmoth is and we have a plan to end all of this,” she said, almost vibrating on the spot. Seeing his eager look, she launched into her explanation with occasional butt-ins from Tim. The eager look was quickly replaced with a grim, determined look the longer she spoke. “And I was thinking we should call in a couple of our temps to ensure we don't struggle.”

“That- uh, it all sounds pretty watertight,” he said quietly, ears and tail drooping. 

“Yeah, it really was silly of me not to check him out again after I knew he had the grimoire,” Marinette said, chagrined. “We have to get this right, though. He has a teen son who would suffer the most if we don't do this perfectly. And we should get him out of the house before the confrontation - he's good friends with Nino Lahiffe, and he'd be more than happy to hide him.” 

“I'll go ahead and get Adrien out of there, take him somewhere safe while you distribute the Miraculous. I'll let you know once he's out and we'll go from there. But once this is over…can we share our identities? I just-” 

“Sure, Chaton, once this is over. But- just so we're clear, it doesn't change things between us. But it would be nice to be friends with whoever's behind the mask,” she said with a soft smile. Chat nodded jerkily and was off. 

Once the Miraculous were handed out and they'd gotten the all clear from Chat that Adrien was out of the house, they moved in. The house was deathly quiet as they crept through it, Chat seeming to know where to go. Marinette shoved that thought far away and listened to Tim explaining that he had found the lair. 

To say Gabriel had been caught unawares was an understatement. And the report that came in explaining they had found a basement with a coffin made Chat snap. He was a force to be reckoned with as he slashed and battered at Hawkmoth, his staff glinting as it knocked the man through a wall. 

It ended suddenly when Vesperia appeared behind Hawkmoth, freezing him instantly. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief as she removed the brooch and Gabriel was forced to detransform. It was over. Tim would have already summoned the police and then she would get to get her life back on track. 

Handing Gabriel over to the police made everything feel one hundred times more real and she felt like she was flying when she reconvened with the Bats and Chat to discuss next steps.

“Well, with the cameras and the number of witnesses we should have no problem making the charges stick,” Tim said enthusiastically. Marinette's heart soared, the reality that she was finally going to be free sinking in. But it snagged on the thought of Adrien - he was going to go through so much hardship.

“An investigation into Agreste Junior is necessary as well,” Damian piped up, frowning. Marinette glanced at him thoughtfully, surprised at how similar their thoughts were before she sighed as she realised she had no good argument against it. 

“About that,” Chat said with a strained laugh. “Now’s probably as good a time as any for that identity reveal so…claws in.” 

Marinette was pretty sure she gave a mortified squeak when the transformation dropped away and left behind none other than Adrien Agreste. She blinked several times before calling for her own detransformation, which left Adrien with eyes just as wide as she assumed hers were. 

After several seconds of silence, Adrien groaned and dropped into a crouch, his head in his hands. 

“I called you our ‘everyday Ladybug’, how did I not see it?” 

_ _ _

Once everything was settled, Marinette told Adrien to come by the bakery to talk. It was long past time that she came clean to her parents about what she had been up to and she knew they would also look kindly on Adrien after what he had been through. 

And through it all, Damian was there, silently supportive as he told his side as a civilian; how he had learnt Marinette's identity, negotiated returning to Paris as soon as possible to help in any way he can…and if her parents connected the dots between Damian's return and the arrival of the Bats, they didn't say anything. 

Much later, Adrien and Marinette sat in her room, talking about all sorts of things. Damian had excused himself, promising he was only a phone call away if she wanted him there. She was endlessly grateful that he understood that she wanted time with her superhero partner. 

Eventually Adrien's traumatic day caught up with him and he started to drift. He had been resting his head on her shoulder and she ruffled his hair, not unlike she would with a cat or dog. It was strange, she had never imagined that Adrien would be her partner in heroism but she wasn't disappointed. Even with his, frankly appalling, advice about Lila, she knew he was a good person. 

Resting her head on top of his, she let herself fall to sleep too.

[manlikeazi]

could you do an angst to fluff with chunkz and an amp reader? maybe reader already insecure because of the distance, but being more insecure because chunkz doesn't want to publicly state that he's in a relationship. they could come to a common ground like a soft launch or reassurance

Only Ours - Chunkz

Summary: When being loved in private starts to feel like being hidden.

Pairing: Chunkz x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Masterlist

You weren't supposed to care this much.

Not about an Instagram story. Not about a caption. Not about the fact that once again, he posted the whole squad, tagged everyone, laughed about the day, and somehow still managed to leave you completely out of frame.

Not even a hint.

Not a shoe. Not a sleeve. Not a shadow.

Nothing.

You told yourself it didn't mean anything.

Because in private? You had everything. You had him. His late-night voice notes, his playlists made just for you, his name in your phone followed by two hearts and a little crown emoji. He called you "baby" when he was tired. "trouble" when you were teasing, and "my peace" when no one else could hear.

You had his hoodie on your chair. His cologne on your pillow. His name whispered in your ear after 3 hour facetime calls where he begged you to just fall asleep on the line.

So why did it feel like you didn't exist?

And why did it feel like your stomach bottomed out?

////_////_////_/////

You were curled up in your hotel bed, long filming day with AMP, legs sore, throat tired, group chat going off downstairs but all of it blurred out behind the weight sitting on your chest like a stone.

You stared at your phone like it owed you something.

Your lockscreen? A photo of him. Sunglasses on, peace sign up, leaning back in your passenger seat. You'd taken it on a random Tuesday after brunch and he hadn't even known you'd snapped it until you set it as your wallpaper.

Now, looking at it, your heart twisted.

He felt far.

Not just physically, London to Atlanta was a nightmare in itself.

But emotionally. Lately, the time zones were the least of it.

Because you'd been here before.

In past relationships, people hid you for reasons they didn't say. "It's better for my brand" "people are nosy" "I just want to keep it lowkey" every version of "you're not worth the noise"

You promised yourself this one would be different.

But now... You weren't so sure.

You opened his last message again.

"You know I love you. It's just... complicated"

No follow-up.

No call.

No explanation.

The dots had appeared. Then vanished.

He hadn't said another word in five hours.

And yeah, you knew his life was hectic. You knew he was busy. You knew, rationally, that none of this meant he didn't care.

But when you're already insecure, logic doesn't do shit.

You tapped the back of your phone against your palm, teeth clenched, eyes burning.

It wasn't just that he wasn't public about you. It was that he didn't even want to be.

Every time the topic came up, he changed it.

You remembered the last time clearly.

////_////_////_////

"Would you ever post us?" You asked him.

He'd laughed a little. Not in a mean way. Just... nervous.

"What, like... holding hands and all that?" Chunkz asked.

"No, like... maybe a soft launch. A story or something. Just so people know it's not a free-for-all" You said.

He paused. That silence that meant he was choosing his words too carefully.

"I just don't want people in our business. You know how they are. They'll dig, they'll guess, they'll ruin it" Chunkz said.

You nodded. Said nothing.

And he kissed your forehead like that was enough to end the conversation.

But it wasn't.

////_////_////_////

Now, here you were, on your side in the dark, staring at your screen like it could blink and fix everything.

You knew AMP would be texting soon, asking where the hell you were. You were supposed to help film a late-night food video, Kai and Chris were already fighting over who had to clean up after.

But you couldn't go out there right now.

Not when your brain was chewing on this one single question, again and again.

If he really loved you, why didn't he want anyone to know?

You didn't even realize you'd dozed off until your phone buzzed against your pillow.

Incoming call.

Chunkz 

1:08 AM

You blinked hard, sat up, throat dry, stomach coiled.

You debated letting it ring.

But you answered.

"Hey" Chunkz said, his voice was soft. 

"You up?" Chunkz asked.

You didn't say anything at first.

"Babe?" Chunkz called out, his face frowning in confusion.

Silence.

He sighed.

"I saw your story" Chunkz said.

Of course he had.

You'd posted a black screen earlier, just four words.

"Love shouldn't feel hidden"

No context.

No tag.

But he knew.

"Wasn't about you" You said finally, voice flat.

 "But it was" Chunkz said as he let out a tiny laugh, barely there.

Silence again.

You sat up straighter in bed, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. 

"Why am I the only one who ever says we're real?" You asked.

He didn't answer right away.

You hated that part, the waiting. Like he was trying to find a version of the truth that hurt less.

You beat him to it.

"I get it. I'm not UK famous. I'm not an influencer girl with perfect followers. Maybe my name next to yours would mess with the brand or whatever--" You rambled.

"Stop" Chunkz cuts in.

His voice cut in, sharp but breaking.

"Don't do that. Don't make it about you not being enough" Chunkz said.

You clenched your jaw.

"It's hard not to when I'm the only one showing up in the light" You said.

He sounded wrecked. Tired in a way you hadn't heard before.

"I just... I didn't want to lose this by putting it under a spotlight. Every time I go public with something personal, it gets eaten alive. People dig, guess, twist. They turn it into something it's not" Chunkz said.

"And what is this?" You whispered.

A breath on the line.

"It's love" Chunkz said. 

"It's the only thing I haven't questioned in years" Chunkz added.

Your eyes stung.

"But you're scared" You said.

"I'm terrified" Chunkz said.

Another pause.

Then he added, so quietly you almost missed it,

"I just didn't realize I was hurting you by trying to protect what mattered most" Chunkz said.

The silence between you wasn't tense anymore.

It was soft. Suspended. Like both of you had said just enough to let the other breathe again.

On the other end of the line, Chunkz was quiet for a long time.

You could picture him, sitting on the edge of his bed, chain off, hoodie half-on, phone in his hand, forehead in the other.

"Tell me what you need" Chunkz said finally, voice low. 

"Like actually. No edits. What do you need to feel real in this with me?" Chunkz added.

You stared at the ceiling, heart thudding.

"I don't need a hard launch" You murmured. 

"I don't want a tweet or some mad 'this is my girl' thing. Just... something. Anything that tells people I'm not a placeholder for your loneliness. Something that says you're proud of this. Of me" You said.

There was a beat. Then a soft, almost broken whisper.

"You think I'm not?" Chunkz asked.

"I think" You said carefully.

"That you don't realize how much being hidden starts to feel like being erased" You added.

He didn't speak for a moment. But you could hear his breathing. You could tell he was thinking, not running, not deflecting but thinking.

And then he exhaled.

"I bought something last week" Chunkz said. 

"It was gonna be a surprise but maybe this is better" Chunkz added.

 "What kind of something?" You asked as you furrowed your brows.

"Custom bracelet" Chunkz said softly. 

"Has your name on it. Not all loud-- just your first name, in that font you like. I've been wearing it since I got it" Chunkz added.

Your breath caught.

He kept going.

"No one's noticed yet but they will. And I want them to. I want someone to zoom in and ask, 'What's that about?' So I can smile like a dumbass and say, 'It's someone important'" Chunkz said.

Your throat closed.

"You're serious?" You asked.

"I never joke when I'm emotionally vulnerable at this tired fam" Chunkz said as he laughed quietly.

You sniffed, laughing despite yourself.

"And" Chunkz continued. 

"I've got a plan for stories too. Wanna let you know incase it's too much" Chunkz added.

"Yeah?" You said as you rolled onto your side.

"Tomorrow" Chunkz said. 

"I'm posting that hoodie you 'borrowed' that still somehow lives on my chair. I'm not tagging. I'm not explaining. I'm just letting people wonder" Chunkz added.

"Soft launch phase one?" You asked with a small smile.

"Operation Let 'Em Speculate" Chunkz said with a smile you could hear.

Your heart pulsed in your chest. Warm this time. Full.

"You're really doing this?" You asked him.

"I'm really doing this" Chunkz said.

"And if the comments start wildin'?" You asked.

"I'll let them" Chunkz said simply. 

"Because for once, I don't care what the internet thinks" Chunkz added.

He paused.

"But I do care if you go another night thinking I'm ashamed of you" Chunkz said.

You buried your face in the pillow.

"Stop" You mumbled.

"Why?" Chunkz said softly. 

"You should hear this. You deserve this" Chunkz added.

You felt tears pushing again but this time they didn't sting. They soothed.

"I'm gonna do better" Chunkz promised. 

"Not just in posts. In presence. In showing up" Chunkz added.

You bit your lip.

"Can I see the bracelet?" You asked.

The video call request came in immediately.

You swiped up.

And there he was.

Chunkz. Hoodie hood off, hair messy, eyes tired but warm.

He angled his camera down and held up his wrist.

Black woven thread.

Y/N

Your name.

Small, elegant and real.

You pressed your hand to your chest.

"I didn't think you'd actually--" You said.

"You think I'm not obsessed with you?" Chunkz cuts in, tone playful but heavy with truth.

You smiled, tears pooling.

"I love you" You said again, soft as breath.

"I love you too" Chunkz said.

You stayed like that, watching each other through your phones. In silence. In love. In something that didn't need noise to be known.

////_////_////_////

Two Days Later

The soft launch hit harder than either of you expected.

It started with a story. His desk, hoodie slung over the back of his chair, just slightly out of focus.

Left this. Kept the heart tho.

Then a BTS vlog dropped on instagram. Fans caught it within hours. Zoomed-in screenshots of his wrist during a shoot. The bracelet. Clear as day.

The next thing you know is fan accounts were already reposting the vid, stitching it on tiktok, youtube and instagram.

"WHO???"

"Are we guys talking about the same Y/N orrr??"

"Guys, that hoodie was in HER tiktok last week"

"He's in love, I just know it"

"Soft launch CONFIRMED"

"We need answers Chunkz"

"Y/N better treat my man RIGHT"

You hadn't said a word.

Neither had he.

And yet, everything felt louder than ever.

But this time? It didn't hurt.

It felt true.

////_////_////_////

That Night

You got a message.

"They can guess all they want. I don't care"

"I sleep better knowing you don't have to guess anymore"

You stared at the message, smiling like a fool in your bed.

No announcement.

No caption screaming in a relationship.

Just quiet, careful love whispered into a bracelet and a blurry hoodie.

And it was enough.

For now.

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! No notes actually, I'm inactive here but doesn't mean that I'll stop though.

I have 20 drafts, I can't post 15 drafts because of some reasons

[cleighwrites]

Demon Blood Makes the Best Lube

SPN Fanfic

Characters - Jensen as Dean x Jared as Sam

Summary - Jared gets an itch only Jensen can help scratch.

Word Count - 1,812

A/N - This was written for the @spnkinkevents role-play weekend! The prompt was Jared playing demon blood!Sam manhandling Jensen as Dean from the always amazing @jld71, who also beta'd for me. If you're at all queasy about fake blood, this is your warning!! lol

Also, let's just pretend they knew what would happen in the next season for this one... I couldn't help the quote!

Warnings - NSFW, fake demon blood as lube, anal (fingering, sex, rimming), incest role-play

Read it Ao3 or click Keep Reading!

Jared had an itch under his skin that he just couldn’t scratch. He knew what it meant and how to get it gone. But he needed Jensen to play along. 

They shot Dean finding out about Sam drinking demon blood that day. It had been emotional for both brothers, but Jared was feeling amped up from the adrenalin that came with pretending to be hopped up on drugs gave him. He’d also shot a rather steamy scene with “Ruby” that day which got him a little riled up. He needed a way to get things out of his system, which gave him an idea. 

He grabbed his phone and shot Jensen a quick text. 

> Tell Cliff we’ll get a ride home

> Don’t change out of your costume

> Meet me on the seedy hotel set, 15 minutes

They’d been done filming for a little while and he and Jensen had just gotten back to their trailers after debriefing with Bob about their shots for the next day. Most of the crew should be finishing up everything now, so fifteen minutes should be plenty of time for them to be alone on set. 

Jared paced in his trailer as he watched the minutes tick by. By the time he was meant to meet Jensen, it felt like an hour had passed. He took his time walking to the specified set, stopping by the props trailer to get something necessary for what he had planned.

The set was dark and the door groaned when Jared opened it. His heart beat wildly in anticipation when he heard it click shut. 

“Hello? Jared?” Jensen called from the other side of the wall. 

“No ‘Jared’ here,” Jared called back, his voice cool and sure, just like Sam’s. 

There was a slight pause while Jared rounded the faux wall to find Jensen sitting at the foot of one of the beds still in Dean’s clothes. Jensen straightened up when he saw him. 

“Sammy?” he asked, concerned. “What’s with all the cloak and dagger? Did something happen?” He stood and walked toward him, reaching a hand out to touch Sam’s bloodstained face.

“I’m fine, it’s not mine,” Jared swiped his hand away. 

“You were with her, weren’t you?” Dean asked, full of anger, hurt, and accusation. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. And we were interrupted,” Sam retorted.  

“Oh, pity,” Dean rolled his eyes and turned to walk away.

“You’re the one that pulled that fire alarm, Dean. Why?”

“Because if you have to skulk around in seedy hotels, you shouldn’t be doin’ it!” Dean was right back in Sam’s face.

“Like this place is so much better?” Sam motioned to the room around them, peeling wallpaper and musty sheets and all. 

“Yeah, well, it ain’t the Ritz, but at least it’s not a crack den.” 

“I’m not on crack, Dean.”

“Might as well be,” he said sadly, looking at Sam’s bloody lips. 

“You’re just jealous because I can do things you can’t,” Sam smirked, knowing he was pushing Dean’s buttons. 

On cue, Dean’s jaw ticked. “I don’t need this from you,” he said, then shoved past Sam on his way toward the door. 

Sam was quick though, with a new dose of demon blood coursing through him. He reached out and grabbed Dean’s arm, turning him to face him. 

“Let go, Sam,” Dean growled. 

“You gonna make me?” Sam responded, voice pitched low; taunting. 

Dean tried to jerk away, but couldn’t shake off Sam’s hold. 

“Like I said, ‘we were interrupted’.”

“Sammy,” Dean warned before trying harder to shake off Sam’s grip. 

“Guess you’ll have to do,” Sam said, hauling Dean back to the bed Jensen had been sitting on before. 

“What are you thinking, Sam? Just cuz you’re all hopped up on demon blood, don’t mean you gotta take it out on me!” 

He was putting up a real struggle now, but Sam was stronger. He arranged them so that Dean’s knees were pressed against the mattress, then shoved him. Dean fell back with a thump and tried to roll to the side quickly, but Sam was quicker still and had him pinned before he could make it off the side of the bed. 

“Sammy, this isn’t you. Don’t do this, man,” Dean begged, already giving up his fight. 

“It was always going to end up this way, Dean.” Jared ran his nose along Jensen’s jaw and sniffed his neck. He smelled like Dean. “You, me, here.”

“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Sam,” Jensen said with a smirk. 

Jared chuckled. Of course, Jensen would call him out on a Lucifer quote from the next season they’d already talked to the producers about. It was just too good to not use in the moment. 

“Why else would you be so jealous of her, Dean?” Sam licked his way up Dean’s neck. 

Dean struggled again but to no avail. 

“You can’t escape this.” 

Sam sat upright, keeping a firm hand on Dean’s chest, rendering him immobile. He slipped a vile out from his back pocket and laid it on the bed next to them. Dean’s eyes went wide. 

“I ain’t drinking no demon blood, Sammy, you can forget it!” he yelled. 

“It’s not for you to drink, Dean, relax.” 

“Yeah, right, easy for you to say,” he snarked. 

“You’re going to enjoy this, trust me.”

“That demon has rotted your brain out, Sammy.” 

“On the contrary,” Sam started, rucking up Dean’s shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. “She’s made me so powerful.” His lip twitched into a brief smirk. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’m capable of now.” 

“Oh, I bet I could,” Dean grumbled, then let out a surprised yelp when Sam’s hand wrapped around his half-hard cock. 

“You want this, brother,” Sam said on an exhale.

“Don’t,” Dean’s voice broke over the word, making Sam’s pulse skyrocket. 

“‘Don’t’ what?” Sam asked just before kissing Dean’s mouth and stroking him at the same time. 

Dean went pliant underneath Sam, and Sam knew that he’d won. Dean was giving in to him; the one person he couldn’t say “no” to. It was all the permission Sam needed to stroke faster and kiss harder. He could feel the flakes of Ruby’s blood craking off of his lips and falling all over Dean’s face. Dean made a noise of protest but didn’t try to fight him off. 

Once Dean’s dick was hard in his hand, Sam let go and used the same hand to pull Dean’s jeans down his legs. 

“Kick your shoes off,” Sam commanded. 

Weak and under Sam’s spell, he obeyed. After he kicked off his shoes, Sam made quick work of removing his pants. Once Dean was bare from the waist down, Sam clicked open the bottle of blood Ruby had sent him home with and dribbled some across his fingers. 

Dean’s eyes went wide, knowing what Sam’s plan was. He tried to keep his legs together, but Sam pried them open and put himself between them so that Dean’s most private parts were available to him. The blood was singing in his veins. 

Dripping with blood, Sam’s fingers found Dean’s hole and began working him open. The demon blood always made him feel like he was about to explode and the only thing that helped was sex; and since he and Ruby were interrupted by Dean’s little fire drill, he’d have to make due. 

He slid one finger in easily and smiled to himself and Jensen was still loose from their morning workout. After a few strokes, he slid in another finger and then a third when he was ready. The demon blood was working surprisingly well. Jared still had the taste of it in his mouth, which gave him another idea. 

“Don’t even try to move,” Sam instructed, then dove down Dean’s body and hoisted his legs into the air. 

Dean grunted but didn’t budge as Sam’s mouth latched onto his bloodied hole. He sucked and licked and devoured Dean and the taste drove him mad with want. Once he’d had his fill, Sam undid his own pants and shoved them down to his knees as he crawled back up Dean’s body. 

Cutting off Dean’s protest, Sam kissed him with the fresh blood on his lips. This time, Dean kissed back, desperate and wanting, knowing what was to come. With no ado and very little fanfare, Sam lined himself up and shoved into Dean. He groaned into their kiss and Sam felt him clench and unclench around his length. 

Unable to hold himself back, he pulled out and shoved back in, over and over again. Uncaring for Dean’s pleasure, he railed into him, stroking himself on the tight velvet of his brother’s open hole. When the blood started to dry, he applied more. Dean’s ass was a wet, red mess, and Sam was enamored by it. Knowing that it wasn’t his brother’s blood, but a demon’s made it all the more illicit. 

Jared laughed to himself, taking Jensen out of the moment. 

“Something funny?” Jensen asked between groans of pleasure. 

“Just me thinking about how hot it is that you’re drenched in demon blood while I fuck you.”

Jensen made a face, but his ass clenched tight, betraying his true feelings. Jared kissed him and fucked into him harder and faster until they were both breathless. 

“Ung, I’m gonna come,” Jensen grunted. 

“Yeah, come on your brother’s cock,” Jared said. 

“Man, come on!” Jensen begged. 

They’d both read the fanfic; both knew what people saw between the two of them on and off screen. But Jensen had always protested a sexual relationship between the brothers; even when they were just playing around. He was much more moral than Jared.

Jared bit down on his ear lobe and whispered, “Come for me, big brother.”

Jensen’s entire body seized up and he came with a shout all over Dean and Sam’s shirts and jackets. They were going to get ripped a new one by wardrobe… again. But Jared couldn’t care about that when Jensen’s ass was milking him dry. He grunted and bit down on Jensen’s neck as he came. 

When he was too sensitive to keep thrusting into Jensen, he pulled out. The sight of his dick and Jensen’s ass covered in blood was shocking. It looked like Jared had literally fucked Jensen a new one. But as gruesome as the sight was, Jared was mostly turned on by it. 

“You look like a werewolf,” Jensen said, once Jared lay down beside him.

“I look like I just ate your bloody ass,” Jared corrected. 

Jensen made another face. “I don’t even wanna look down, do I?”

Jared took a look at his dick and between Jensen’s legs. “Nope. But I gotta admit…”

“That was fun?” Jensen supplied.

“Demon blood makes the best lube,” he finished with a wide smile across his face. 

Thanks for reading!!! Please comment and share if you liked it!!