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peachessndreamss · 5 months ago

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Wolfswood

Summery : Cregan receives an injury while out hunting, his wife cares for him

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings : Cannon typical injury and first aid/wound care, cannon typical hunting

Word count : 4k

A/N : Cregan Stark I love yooou. Also, apologies in advance if this is the most boring thing you've ever read.

Winter had arrived with devastating speed and brutality in the North. The first heavy snowfall had destroyed the last remaining crops left out in the fields and the woodpiles stacked as high as two men and just as wide had looked like enough to see them through two winters but soon began to deplete at an alarming rate.

And when a great boar had been sighted at the edge of the Wolfswood, Lord Cregan Stark quickly called the men of his house to a hunt, knowing it was better to find the creature now and make use of it rather than let it be starved by the winter.

They had set out in the pre-dawn, 10 men of House Stark, wrapped in layers of leather, wool and fur, mounted on the most surefooted horses the Winterfell stables had to offer. Lord Stark rode at the front of the group, his steward and close friend Martyn Snow riding beside him, the two of them talking as they disappeared from sight.

Once in the Wolfswood Lord Stark had led the hunt, first on horseback as they tracked the creature deeper into the cover of the dense wood and then on foot, when the terrain had become too dangerous for the horses and the boar needed to be harried out of its hiding place.

Cregan had been moving slowly north, stepping over tangles of brambles and avoiding tree roots thicker than his thighs, the men of the group formed a large crescent shape as they moved slowly, hopefully driving the animal toward a clearing. One of the men at the end of the line gave a sharp whistle to indicate the group should stop, instinctively his head moved toward the sound and in that split second of distraction Cregan missed the rustling of dead leaves and the heavy breathing of an animal charging.

The great tusk of the boar gored his left thigh. Cutting deeply through the skin to the muscle beneath, bright red blood immediately falling to the leaves at his feet. The power of the blow from the animal knocked him off his feet and sent him slamming into the cold ground, the back of his head knocking hard against a tree root. The metallic stink of blood filled his nose as shouts went up from the men of the household, they abandoned the hunt and gathered around their injured lord.

“Get the beast,” was all he managed to say before the wintery sunlight faded from his view and he wasn't aware of pain or cold anymore.

Lady Stark watched the hunting party return from the covered walkway between the Great Keep and the Armory. She expected to see Cregan leading the party, a triumphant smile on his cold reddened face with the great beast slung over the back of his stallion.

Instead it was Cregan's steward, Martyn, who galloped in at the front of the procession, his horse wet with sweat, its nostrils flaring as it snorted. The animals rider didn’t look much better, the steward’s face was fearful and the same colour as the bark of the weirwood tree, his pale brown leather jerkin was darkened with blood.

“My lady,” he called when he saw her watching, “Lord Stark’s been hur’, cut by the boar. Please send for the maester,”

His words caused a lump of ice to form in her stomach, chilling her from her heart outward. There was always a risk when the men went hunting, and more often than not her husband returned home with some small injury or another but this had to have been serious. As she dashed into the Great Keep she caught sight of a wagon being drawn by two great horses, on the bed of the wagon a tangle of fur and blood, she fought a wave of nausea at the sight and ducked inside the keep.

Her feet were light and silent as she reached the maester’s chambers, not bothering to knock on the old man’s door she threw it open with a crash.

The maester was startled by her sudden interruption, jumping up from his stool at the desk with surprising speed and agility for a man who was nearing 70. He opened his mouth, ready to scold whoever had so rudely burst into his rooms, but his words died on his lips.

“Lord Stark’s been injured in the hunt,” she said, praying her voice didn't waver and give away the fear that was gripping her throat like a claw.

“Injured how?” The maester replied, moving toward the large wooden sideboard that dominated the room. On the shelves were jars, bottles and boxes containing every substance needed by a maester, and probably a few they didn’t need as well.

“Gored, I don't know where, they've just arrived back, please come now,” she said firmly, not willing to keep Cregan waiting.

The maester nodded and gathered his heavy leather case from the side, the bag was filled with sharp tools and simple herbs and mixtures for most every day healing. He followed behind Lady Stark as she led them to the undercroft of the Great Keep, where there was a great deal of noise and disruption.

The undercroft was a dark, cool, enclosed space usually used for storage, most days it would only see one or two visitors but now it was alive as men lit torches around the walls while others heaved Cregan’s limp form onto the huge oak table that sat in the centre of the space. They stripped him out of his blood soaked outer clothes and left him lying in his linen shirt and woollen trousers.

The left leg of his trousers was ripped open at the mid thigh, revealing a 5 inch gash, skin and muscle had been torn apart and glistened dark red. A tourniquet above the wound had stopped most of the bleeding but his face was ghostly pale and his lips an unhealthy shade of blue.

Lady Stark moved slowly toward the head of the table where Cregan’s closed eyes made him look almost peaceful, the maester went straight to the wound and began cutting away at his trousers.

“Has he been talking?” he asked as he began to inspect the wound more closely.

“A little, but he was unconscious for a minute or so after it happened,” the steward replied, standing by Cregran’s right hip, wringing his hands together.

“Hello my love,” Lady Stark said softly, brushing her hand over his forehead, willing herself not to fall to her knees and weep when she felt how cold his skin was.

His grey eyes fluttered open and blinked slowly, trying to bring his wife’s face into focus, the world around him seemed to shift violently, left and right, up and down but her warm hand on top of his head held him steady.

“Now, what have you been up to?” she asked softly, as if addressing one of their children.

Cregan’s whole left leg throbbed painfully and his stomach roiled with nausea, he swallowed once, finding his mouth and throat dry.

“It's barely a scratch,” he croaked. Lady Stark gave a small huff that might have been out of amusement and stroked her fingers over the crown of his head.

“‘Tis a dreadful looking scratch,” she replied, “still, the maester’s here now,”.

Cregan hissed with the pain as the maester applied a green tinged ointment to the wound. Sweat broke out all over his body and he felt his hands start to tremble.

“Did they get the beast?” Cregan asked, once the initial wave of pain had passed and faded back into a constant throb.

Lady Stark glanced at Martyn who gave a small nod of his head.

“Of course, and you shall have the beast's head for your chambers if you want”.

He gave what appeared to be a weak nod before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. Cregan had known pain before but dislocated shoulders, broken bones and the sharp bite of Valyrian steel were nothing compared to this.

At his thigh the maester had soaked a small piece of linen in a clear, strong smelling substance that he placed over the wound before tightly wrapping a clean bandage before removing the tourniquet tied high up his thigh. As the blood was allowed to flow back into the lower leg the colour returned to the skin but there were no signs of excessive bleeding at the wound. The maeester turned his attention to Lady Stark.

“It’s as clean a cut as we can expect from a tusk, most importantly there’s no sign of dirt within, I have great faith that it will heal well,” the maester explained, wiping his hands on a clean piece of linen that was tucked into the belt at his waist.

“I'll go to my rooms now and make a poultice to fight infection and in the meantime he can be moved to his rooms to ensure he's comfortable,” he added.

With a small nod from Lady Stark the men still standing around the room went into action, they brought a stretcher and carefully moved Cregan from the table to the stretcher. He was then carried slowly through the Keep and up to his rooms. The masters chambers were the largest but the least used within the Great Keep, Cregan and his wife favoured the smaller but warmer Lady’s chambers, especially as they were the closest rooms to the children’s rooms.

Once he was settled on the bed she sent for two bowls of water and a cloth before stripping him of the last remaining pieces of clothing. Unable to lift him from the bed to get his shirt over his head she cut the fabric straight up the middle with a small knife, pushing the two halves over his chest and cutting the sleeves apart to expose his arms. She also had to cut away what was left of his trousers, finding some of the material stuck to his skin with blood.

Once he was as bare as the day he’d been born she soaked the cloth in warm water and set about washing him. Somehow the blood had managed to get up to his neck and down to the bottom of his left foot. She started at his neck, watching as droplets of reddened water ran down onto his chest and collected in the dark mess of curls that started at his collar bone, completely covered his chest and then funnelled into a thick strip that ran all the way down his stomach to the apex of his thighs.

“I swear you're more beast than man sometimes,” she said softly as she dabbed at his chest, lifting the blood from his skin and hair.

“It's the wolf in me,” he replied softly.

Her head snapped towards his face, she’d had no idea he was awake and seeing his soft gaze on her face brought a wave of emotion flooding through her body. The usual surge of love she felt whenever she looked at him, intense relief at seeing his cheeks a healthy flushed colour after how deathly pale he’d looked before and bubbling anger brought on by the extreme fear that still sat in her stomach like a block of ice.

“The wolf couldn't smell the boar sneaking up on you?” She asked as she felt tears burn her eyes. Cregan offered her a small, reassuring smile.

“The wolf is more,” he paused a second while he thought, “passive...”.

Unable to resist him, Lady Stark felt herself smiling and the two of them shared a laugh before she continued to wash him, revealing the pale skin under the dark curls and dried blood.

“You're lucky it wasn’t more serious,” she said softly as she wrung the red water out of the cloth into a mostly empty bowl before dipping the cloth back into clean water, “if it’d caught on the inside of your leg you'd have been dead before they got you home,” she added, an icy edge to her voice as the fear that had gripped her throat now throbbed behind her eyes.

“But I wasn't,” he placated gently, reaching out and taking hold of her wrist as she dabbed at his stomach.

“I'm fine,” he added when he noticed the tears gathering in her eyes and the angry wobble of her bottom lip.

She snatched the hand from his, throwing the cloth into the bowl of clean water at her feet. The water splashed up, catching the skirt of her dress.

“And what if you weren't? What if you weren’t fine? Your son is barely 9 months old Cregan, do you expect me to hold the entire North until he comes of age? Fighting off every grasping lord from The Wall to Dorne trying to get to him and steal his birthright?” An angry tear tracked down her cheek.

“I cannot be regent, Cregan, I cannot be here without you,”.

He reached out again and took hold of her balled first at the wrist, bringing her hand towards his face, pressing a soft kiss to her curled fingers.

“And nor will you be,” he said softly, his lips still touching her fingers, “you and I are going to grow very old together, so old they write songs about us when we're all but turned to dust,”.

She gave a small, watery laugh through her tears and pulled her hand out of his again.

“Now you're just placating me,” she said, reaching into the bowl for the cloth and ringing it out.

“Of course I am,” he replied with a smile, stretching his right arm up and settling it behind his head, the bend in his arm causing his muscle to flex and bulge under his skin. Were it not for the bandage around his leg he would have looked as if he was just relaxing for the evening.

“I understand well that my most important duty is keeping you happy,”.

Lady Stark scoffed at him and returned to the gentle washing of his stomach. A small smile tugging up the corners of his lips as he watched her tending to him so carefully. He'd been in a fair few scrapes before this one and was always happy to be tended to by his wife, the mixture of her gentle hand and sharp words always made him feel better.

“Am I permitted to say how I'm enjoying your undivided attention?” He asked.

“You may not say it” she replied, flicking her eyes to his face and catching him grinning at her.

“I shall just think it then,”.

They both fell into a tense silence as her cloth inched closer to the bandaged wound. The maester had said he would come by later that day to stitch the wound closed once it had time to dry and he could be certain there was no rot. Sweat broke out across his body as her gentle touch began to feel like needles piercing his skin, he kept his jaw firmly shut, unwilling to let a single sound of pain pass his lips.

“Would you take something for the pain?” She asked, not needing to hear him cry out to know he was in great discomfort, she wrang the cloth out again wetted it with clean water again.

“I would rather keep my wits,” he replied, his voice strained.

“Then perhaps a little when we’re finished and you can rest?” She pressed. She knew he disliked the effects of milk of the poppy but seeing him in such pain made her heart ache.

“Perhaps,” he nodded before pressing his lips tightly closed, redoubling his efforts to stay silent.

She finished his bed bath at his left foot, cleaning the dried blood from the bottom of his toes and the ball of his foot. And all the pain that had passed before paled in comparison to the agony he felt as her hands gently tended the most ticklish part of his body. He fought with every ounce of willpower to stay still and not curl his toes and kick his foot out of her hands.

Once finished she rung the cloth out one final time before standing and carrying the two bowls of water across the room and setting them aside to be cleared away later.

“Will you sleep for a while? She asked him, moving back toward him and running her hand over his forehead before drawing a soft woollen blanket over his nakedness.

Cregan nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep until the dawn of the summer.

“Alright, will you take a little milk of the poppy?” she asked.

He nodded again, opening one of his eyes to peek at her face.

“And a kiss to sweeten it?” He asked, letting the corners of his lips quirk up just a touch.

She laughed softly, taking the small bottle of white milky liquid from the table beside their bed. She unstopped it and helped him lift his head off the pillow, she held the bottle to his lips while he took a small swallow before dropping his head back onto the pillow with his eyes closed.

“And to make it sweet,” she said, bending and pressing her lips to his.

As she stood he opened his eyes again although she could already see he was fighting the effects of the milk of the poppy.

“Kiss the babies for me as well?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied, stroking his forehead again and watching his eyes close as he finally gave in and allowed himself to be dragged into a dreamless sleep.

She watched him for a few minutes, keeping an eye on the steady ride and fall of his broad chest. In sleep he always appeared to be younger, his features softened as sleep took away the worries and the duties he carried on his shoulders every day.

Once she was happy he would sleep for a while and there was nothing else she could do for him, Lady Stark went in search of Martyn the steward, she knew he would be worried and was waiting for news of his lord and friend.

She found him outside the stables, running a brush over Cregan’s stallion.

“Is he alright?” Martyn asked as she approached him. There was a panicked edge to his voice and his face betrayed his worries.

“He'll be fine,” she soothed with a nod, “he's made of strong stuff,” she added as she placed a comforting hand on his forearm.

“I'm sorry he was hurt, my lady,” he said, already looking lighter knowing Cregan was alright.

“You've nothing to be sorry for, he's a man grown and it's his own fault if he doesn't hear a boar sneaking up on him,” she said, making her voice playful and teasing.

“I'll pray for him,” the steward said, returning to brushing the huge grey horse that stood patiently in front of him.

“Thank you, I know he'll appreciate that,”.

She stayed talking to the steward a little longer, the two of them discussing how to make the best of the creature that’d been killed that morning. The sky was quickly darkening and the air turning colder by the minute, although no new snow had fallen that day there was a crisp smell of it on the air and dark, heavy clouds covered the sky, threatening a heavy snowfall that night.

She left Martyn to his final tasks for the day and returned to The Great Keep, she went first to the nursery to look in on their children. The eldest, Aly, was playing on the floor with her nurse, the two of them racing carved wooden animals across the floor. She paid no attention to her mother when she entered the room, too caught up in her game, while their son slept in his cradle.

She lifted the boy from his crib and carried him to a chair beside the fire where she sat, focusing on nothing other than the small sound of his breathing and the tiny movements as his chest expanded and contracted with every breath.

After a few minutes Aly got up from her spot on the carpet, her wooden horse still clutched tightly in her small hand as she walked toward her mother.

“Where's papa?” She asked, coming to stand beside the chair, reaching out her own empty hand to take her mothers.

“Resting, the men went hunting this morning, do you remember?”.

“Will he put me to bed?” Aly asked, letting the toy horse drop from her hand with a small thud.

“Not tonight, I can do it tonight,” Lady Stark replied.

The girl sighed heavily, like she'd received some truly dreadful news, her small shoulders slumping.

“But Papa tells the best bedtime stories,”.

“I know he does, and I’m sure he’ll have a very special one for you tomorrow night,”.

After another heavy sigh Aly climbed up into the chair with her mother and younger brother, curling into Lady Starks chest and closing her eyes. The girl found a loose thread on the bodice of her mothers dress and begin to twist it around her finger, in a few minutes she too has slipped off to sleep.

The warm weight of her children soothed the Lady’s fractured nerves, this wasn't the first time her husband had returned home injured, his body was a tapestry of scars, each one she'd lovingly touched and kissed in turn, learning his scars as closely as a traveller learns a map.

When she heard the first spatterings of wet snow from the nursery window Lady Stark decided it was time for her to look in on her patient. Calling the nurse over and letting the young woman take the sleeping girl from her lap.

“Let her sleep a few more minutes, then wake her or she’ll never sleep tonight,” Lady Stark instructed as she stood and carried her small son back to his crib.

“And I'll be back to feed this one once I've looked in on Lord Stark,” she added, lowering him into the cradle and watching as he settled.

The nurse nodded and smiled softly as she lowered Aly onto her day bed, covering the girl with a soft embroidered blanket.

Cregan didn’t stir when the heavy oak doors of his chambers were opened and his lady wife stepped inside, she paused, watching him for a few moments to see that his condition was unchanged, the only difference was that he’d thrown the blanket off his body and was now lying naked, his whole body exposed to the cool air. Moving toward him she noticed his breathing was still easy and his cheeks were a healthy colour. She touched the back of her hand to his cheek and then his forehead.

At her touch his eyes flicked open and he blinked slowly as the world around him came into focus. He made a small sound of approval that rumbled up deep from his chest as his eyes focused on his wife.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly.

“Better for seeing you,” he replied, his voice gravelly.

“You're a dreadful flirt Cregen,” she replied with a smile, knowing his ability to flirt was a far better indication he was on the mend than anything else would be.

“Come lie with me,” he said, choosing to ignore his wife's chastisement.

“Only for a few minutes,” she replied, moving to the other side of the bed and climbing on it, settling herself beside him and placing her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to roll onto her side, tightening her body to his in a familiar and comfortable way and she sighed contentedly. Her hand rested on his chest, her fingers pushing and playing with the dark curls of hair. Cregan turned his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling the warmth of her body sink into his own flesh and bones.

“I should ban you from future hunts,” she said, her voice muffled by having her face squashed on his shoulder, “make you take an oath never to put yourself in such danger again,”

“Even for you, I could not swear such an oath,” he replied, kissing her forehead again and keeping his lips pressed to her skin, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent from her hair.

The two lay in silence for several minutes, Lady Stark listening to the steady and deep drum beat of his heart, the thumping sound reminding her that he was still alive, injured but alive and home with her and in their private moment it was easy for her to believe that was the only thing that mattered in all the known world.

“But I can swear, it will only be death that keeps me from you,”.

#cregan stark #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x female reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfiction #tom taylor #fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfic #house stark #cregan #cregan fanfic #cregan x oc #cregan x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark headcanons

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handwark · 2 years ago

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#mizuno wave rider 10 #mizuno #footwear #sneakers

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archivesainz · 1 year ago

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he hit me but felt like a kiss. 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ cs55

. . . Carlos likes to take care of young women like you !

genre: dark carlos, smoking, age gap (10 years), smut, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' and another’s, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, daddy kink, creampie, cheating (not with carlos x reader) and i can’t think more.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader.

a/n: I think this is a good way to start the account, asks, comments and likes are always welcome. english is NOT my first language, google translate.

I'M SORRY FOR WAITING ALL THIS TIME! I hope you all like it, happy new year!

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The waves of the beach were calming, you could already see the sun rise and its orange colours appear in the middle of the whitish sky. You did this a few times, when life disappointed you and you had to put up with it; you looked at your cell phone and the time marked '5:55', you laughed remembering the signs about looking at the “angel’s numbers”.

You get up, walking to your house that was not far away and try to enter without making noise, going up to your room and sinking into your bed to sleep a few hours before college.

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You met him in a bar, he bought you a drink and you talked. On the dance floor he glued his body to yours and danced until you accepted the invitation to go to his house.

Now you're getting into his fancy and stuck car, and he's taking you home.

His icy hands came into contact with yours hot thigh, a junction of ice and fire, you felt anxious not only to be going to the house of a guy you met an hour ago, but also to the fact that your hand seems to rise more and more. You wanted to, but you wouldn't say, he also wanted and wouldn't say so he decides to start his game, you confess to yourself that choosing a skirt was a good choice, easy access and no winding. But no, he liked to get the most out of you, instigate you until you were begging him to stop, you didn't ask his age but assumed that he was over 20 years old. You laugh to yourself because you're going to fuck an older guy.

"Sorry to ask... how old are you?" You say it in such a soft voice that it makes it squeeze in the car seat.

"Thirty-two... why the question? Don't you like older guys?" He says, sarcastic with his elbow resting on the car door.

10 years. 10 years of difference between you, that's not bad, right?

"I like it, I love learning new things with experienced people."

He smiles on his side, lightly squeezing your thigh and slowly sneaking into your wet core. You sigh strongly, you are sure he heard and must be smiling while you close your eyes strongly the hand that was on your thighs disappears.

"Do you mind?" He says with a cigarette in his hand and a dark look.

You do it with no with your head and hear the noise of the lighter and the smell of the cigarette inhaling your nostrils. While he puts the hand that was the cigarette back on the steering wheel and touches its your core again, it is light and dirty his touches make you want more, want more from him and his body, he was driving you crazy.

You hold the door when he presses his fingers there, you let out a needy sigh and he smiles, you see that he stops the car and can see the dark house with lights that were mostly yellow he gets out of the car like a real rider opens the door for you and holds your hand to get out of the car.

"Welcome, princess." He speaks seriously as he walks with you to the entrance and throws the end of the cigarette in a nearby trash can.

His hands quickly go to your body when you enter his house, the begging and needy lips were filled with kisses with a taste of drink and cigarettes. His beard gently passed through your skin, and gave you shiver more and more as you went up to his room, his eyes did not leave your body, your skin, your curves and your ass.

You smile when he takes you in his lap and gently puts you on the bed, climbing on top of you and occasionally pressing your erection on your dressed pussy, involuntarily your hips push themselves up looking for more and you hear his low laugh.

"In a hurry, Cariño?" He asks, not taking his lips off your neck. "We have all the time in the world."

Carlos can't help it. He loses control, and passes the kisses to your lips again, and then to your still covered breasts. He's really attenuated by you. Your body is hot, and it looked like it was going to explode like a volcano.

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He grabbed your neck as if it were fucking nothing for him and saw you widen your eyes even more, your fingers looking for some way to undo that touch that took his breath away. After all, everything was still very young.

"You want to act like a whore as if you know what you're doing... But you don't know, my love, you don't know nothing." - Smiling with mockery he whispered against his little mouth and then went to attack his reddish and swollen lips from so many bites.

You moaned tearfully squeezing yours legs even more against the larger body, feeling the man suck your lip in a hungry and hot way; he was hot. Carlos kissed you as if life depended on that and feeling your mouth trying to accompany him left him on the edge of the abyss. If you were the prize at the end of the abyss he would certainly play headlong. Carlos grunted hoarsely as he sucked your tongue, feeling your taste mixed with the cherry of the gloss and it was to lose the reins, he could not be judged. The man then raised his hands around your waist to yours breasts again, squeezing the small mounds covered by the fabric.

His reaction was to grung soft in the middle of the kiss and squeeze his fingers in Carlos' straight and hydrated hair. You begged for everything that was more sacred that throbbing sensation between his legs would relieve the fastest. Carlos then left your lips with a slight suck on your bottom, listening to yours sly grunt and aiming at your eyes shining together with his pink cheeks.

"Take off these clothes for me, take them off... - He whispered hoarsely, breathing heavily as yours squeezed from your feet covered by your socks to yours thighs.

Promptly you obeyed, with those huge bright eyes so reduced before that man between your legs. You took off your clothes burning in horniness and shyness, he already felt Carlos' property and this feeling was indescribably delicious. You exposed yours sumped tits to him and saw him almost salivate, and like a wolf he advanced. The right arm took her by the waist hard, pulling against her big and stiff body, making you feel all the hot erection inside the social pants. She sighed loudly with the grip and can't help but moan when he started a surreal suction on her skin, sucking as if it were the best candy in the world.

"Oh- my god... Fuck.. So good..."

You begged with your virginal aura so strong, shaking against it while he felt him trim it easily, firmly in one arm only, sucking and sucking on your chest as if it were vital to him and maybe it really was. His whining made him disturbed, crazy, completely out of his mind and could eat you right there. Actually, he couldn't, but he wanted to. Fuck the rest, he would go.

Carlos could be patient after all, he was just tasting as much as he could, making the most of your beautiful naivety and this was like an impulse directly on his hardened and painful cock, there so trapped under tissues.

"My beautiful doll... It's so nice to suck on these beautiful tits of yours..". Whispered between one snap and another with his feedings, where Carlos knew well what to do to leave you at the apex of hypersensitivity.

He smiled like the scoundrel he was and looked at you as he dropped his sore chest in one last suck or almost bite. He removed your lip between your teeth with his thumb and advanced with his tongue in your little mouth, kissing and stimulating you to the almost apex. You felt his sighs and breaths, losing your little head with every rude touch of it.

You was completely lost, Carlos was sure you were dripping, and he could confirm by putting his hand between the fabric of those panties, right in your center feeling your pussy completely hot and totally soaked. Holding on his shoulder, he grunted aiming at the act, yours red cheeks denounced your lack of imminent experience and that was the end of it.

He was so fucking big. You lost your breath with the man's firm hands removing everything that covered your body, dropping it on your feet, feeling exposed and at such a disadvantage when he was fully dressed. Your mouth salivated and your cheeks pinched when he saw the tent formed on Carlos' pants and wondered if it hurt as much as it did.

You took the liberty of touching there, insinuating himself indirectly and even without knowing it squeezed the piece of meat, feeling the hardness and how hot and pulsating his cock could be. She swallowed and aimed at him from that position, smiling naughty and curious watching Carlos return his smile as he kissed your little mouth and grabbed your cheek once again.

"Slut... You're getting well trained. Is this what you want, hm? - The big hand landed on yours and squeezed the cock the way you liked it, while waiting for your answer. "Answer you shameless whore! - Roughly forced the touch on your cheek and saw you whine.

"Yes! Yes...yes... I need to...— you squeezed your legs to each other trying to placate that frustrating situation of your pussy and saw him laugh, laugh in complete debauchery and excitement. Carlos loved to see you as a doll that he could clog with cum, that was the truth.

"Daddy will do whatever you want and will put up with everything like a good girl."

Carlos squeezed his own member in his pants and ordered hoarsely; "On all fours, open it well and lifts up to me."

You didn't want to wait, so you promptly went up on the bed with red cheeks and loapy eyes, swallowing in dry when you were on all fours close to the edge of the bed, opening as you could your little legs, procing your tail well towards him. Your entrances totally exposed and melated. Dripping demonstrated the power of man over your body.

Carlos without wasting any more time, which was all they didn't have, opened his belt and saw you retract only with the noise, leaning on his little hands he guided you to support yours elbows arching your spine as much as possible with the palm of his hand there, opening your little legs as it should be, almost grunting when he saw you so open to him.

"Shhh.. this, that way, daddy will prove it to you first, and you won't keep your sounds for yourself, will you?" He whispered with a false condolence and almost deceived you, because his naivety was such that he came to believe in that asshole. "This beautiful little bitch... That..." He caressed your entire prancing back and saw you sigh nervously, anxious almost biting your own forearm and all he did was smile.

He smiled arrogantly before running his finger between your folds and feeling the humidity. "Shit... so wet for me." He whispered to himself that you almost didn't hear him, and sighed in need by the contact.

Without warning you felt his nose touch your moist mound and his mouth suck your sensitive clit, you moaned loudly and you are sure you felt you smile while sucking you. His tongue made smooth and slow movements, which made you delirious and ask for more.

It was the best pussy he had tasted in his life and he was addicted. Carlos was a rotten man. You no longer knew how to differentiate between your own moisture and his saliva, he was making a mess on you and you love it.

He spent time savoring your taste and widening you with both his fingers, preparing you for his cock. You felt your stomach tighten and the moans get stronger, until the sensations in your core stop.

He smiled scoundrel before fitting his swollen head against your recently deflowered little entrance, squeezing your cute hips he forced himself inside, without mercy he buried every thick and pulsating centimeter, gasping loudly with every tight and resistance that his warm interior gave him.

"Fuck... I'll destroy you and you'll ask for more."

He forced your hips well, at the right angle to destroy you and invade your most intimate corner and watched you growl tearfully, perhaps with hot tears in your little eyes and your hand trying to push him away every inch. The man's big hands wandered from your tense little legs to your waist and the curve was divine, his palm fit almost perfectly.

"That's a lot...! Carlos... Daddy!" - You begged him to practically growl and put everything inside.

It was so big and the position didn't help, but it was perfect for him. You completely felt how he stretched you from the inside.

"Holy shit... how small it is, princess... So tight, mi amor..." And he caught you like a damn dog, clinging to your beautiful little body hit your hips under him, the heavy balls were felt by you and your hand went up to his hair, taking everything out there. "Perfect for me..." kissed your sweaty shoulder.

How would you get away with that? You had no idea, You just wanted to be eaten. Fucked up. Ruined.

Carlos and you could feel his cock hitting directly on your stomach and it was a surreal thing the way it filled you and opened you like that. Stunning. Your bitch moans delivered everything.

"Tell me..." he took your hair off your little face again, even in that position because he had a free pass for his whole body, regardless of how he caught you. "You like to feel my dick here, don't you?" He stocked up and heard you practically scream, covering your mouth in order to control your volume he laughed nicely in your ear, giving you goosebumps. "Speak... Speak that you like it when daddy hits you right here... What's up, bitch..." He forced himself and pressed your limit, watching you cry and stay completely away, dumb, delivered, having to literally hold you.

"I like it..! I like it so much, Daddy!" You begged out of herself, possessed by the absurd pleasure she felt. "Please...!"

Carlos stocked you willingly, with strength and it was nice, the melty noises were possible to be heard every time he buried and came back just to mistreat you again a little more.

"Daddy is giving you what he asked for, princess... relax your pussy, hm?" It was a theater because he loved the tension and every time he drove you crazy and felt you squeeze it all in there; so warm and humid.

"Daddy..! Daddy, please... I feel... I..."

"Daddy.. I... I... my God!" You was coming and couldn't stand it, squirmed all over and squeezed Carlos as if he wanted to expel him from there because you was so sensitive.

The tears slipped and the man held you firmly in place, grunting with the squeeze and whispering a sequence of "shh" in your ear.

"That... that... good girl... beautiful girl... So beautiful... It looks beautiful all the dumb cock like that... it came so tasty, my pretty..." He whispered as he filled the side of your sweaty little face with kisses, red as he loved to see; devastated.

You accelerated breathing and low eyes delivered that she was no longer in this world and that orgasm was overwhelming, her legs were honeyed with her honey and Carlos buried in her place left her with her nerves the flower of her skin. He grunted when he was picked up and malled like a little doll, feeling him more deeply, if possible, leaning his hands somewhere seeking relief from that extravagant feeling of being full; Carlos had sat her on his lap, and her little feet barely touched the floor. She was so small.

"Now it's Daddy's turn." Whispering in the middle of his dirty smiles Carlos made you jump, like a doll.

And he did everything, made her go up and down and her contained whining showed how sensitive she was, tears flowed and her honey also went down the man's throbbing cock, making a mess. He growled in your ear every time he impaled you on his own cock, demonstrating how close he was.

He saw in the mirror her destroyed image and how easy it bounced on the man's lap, soft and fucked. Completely fucked up, both the body and the mind. Her poor mind, all there was in her was him.

He was beautiful, big and strong, the reflection of the mirror showed how beautiful he looked as he pursued his own orgasm, eyes closed or semi-closed, lips between his teeth beautiful and frowning as he growled and growled in his ear and neck. Drops of sweat adorned his face.

Carlos' big and voracious hands ran all over you sensitive body, squeezing where he could and where he couldn't. He stopped on the inside of his thighs and raised them as if it were nothing, now pushing his hip willingly; he would cum.

"Fuck...! Fuck, mi amor..." And then he came, filling you with will and strength, so much shit that he seemed to be keeping it all to yourself, all this time.

He moaned or whimpered, she doesn't know, when you felt the whole heat hitting the cervix of your uterus, filling you in absurd levels; it was absurd. A fucking good feeling.

He smiled as he came down from his height and took a deep breath like someone looking to recover. Carlos raised his hip giving you the whole view of him buried in there and went right there, that was the point.

"See? Do you feel that? That's me. It's my fucking dick all inside you, hard as fuck..." Whispering against your cheek he spread his hand against the beautiful relief that was in your belly and you felt the tears flow in the mountains; that was surreal.

You spasmed like the good sensitive little whore you are, almost melting right there with the vision of that volume inside yourself. How could you stand all that? It was being destroyed little by little and that was exciting. You tipped your head on Carlos' shoulder and stirred dencosa, grunting when she felt too stimulated.

It was all too much, everything in Carlos for you was too much.

You hid your face in the curve of the man's neck, or at least tried, aiming from there at Carlos' ring finger; a fucking ring shone in pure gold.

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━━━━━☆━━━━

a/n: As I said, English is NOT my first language so if there is something confused or wrong please tell me!

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #im going crazy #smut #i need him #sorry not really sorry #carlos sainz

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pedgito · 8 months ago

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It's the season of Summer Lovin'—and with the perfect...men. A Pedro Pascal character extravaganza all wrapped up into a series of locations, hidden behind numbers of your choosing and carefully crafted for each Pedro boy. If you're interested, please be sure to read through the following instructions and important information below:

There are 50 moodboards to choose from, first come first serve. (none of these pictures dictate the appearance of reader, this is all purely for vibes and up for your own interpretation) All request need to be sent through my askbox!

There's no maximum word count, but we suggest a minimum of 500 words if you're interested, but that is only a suggestion. Write as much or as little as your heart demands.

(Located under the read more) All numbers are separated by 10 location and labeled 1-5 on each, so when requesting a number please do so in the following manner, [ 'camping, #1' or 'barbecue, #5'] and in the chance that number is already taken, I will message you privately to re-choose.

These moodboards will come with the following requirements: a character, a location, and a quote/sentence that all must be incorporated into the fic, everything else is up to you!

All requests will take place June 2nd-3rd and entries will be due to be posted June 20th-22nd!

BY THE WATER

#1 — taken (@ladamedusoif)

#2 — javier pena x reader, like snow on the beach (@janaispunk)

#3 — dieter bravo x reader, poolside (@ovaryacted)

#4 — taken (@sp00kymulderr)

#5 — oberyn martell x reader, doves in the wind (@beskarandblasters)

CONCERT

#1 — tim rockford x reader, confessions (@wildemaven)

#2 — jack daniels x reader, the cowboy & the thief (@schnarfer)

#3 — frankie morales x reader, it's hell on earth to be heavenly (@hellfire-state-of-mind)

#4 — marcus pike x reader, a fine romance (@doscharolastras)

#5 — taken (@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin)

BARBECUE

#1 — marcus moreno x reader, you see me, i watch you (@iamasaddie)

#2 — taken (@beefrobeefcal)

#3 — lucien flores x reader, met you once saw you thrice (@undercoverpena)

#4 — joel miller x reader, wedding in the apocalypse (@i-own-loki)

#5 — frankie morales x reader, do you feel it too? (@burntheedges)

CAMPING

#1 — taken (@the-blind-assassin-12)

#2 — dieter bravo x reader, cabin down below (@eupheme)

#3 — taken (@pr0ximamidnight)

#4 — frankie morales x reader, bagged & tagged (@inept-the-magnificent)

#5 — din djarin x reader, sway the stars which dazzle like pearls (@lady-of-glass-and-bone)

ROAD TRIP

#1 — taken (@whocaresstillthelouvre)

#2 — joel miller x reader, sunshine (@couldsewyouastitchandsavenine)

#3 — jack daniels x reader, hit the road jack! (@thelastofhyde)

#4 — joel miller x reader, until men fell at their women's feet and asked for forgiveness (@jomiddlemarch)

#5 — dave york x reader, still (@sizzlingcloudmentality)

CARNIVAL

#1 — jack daniels x reader, hot chocolate (@punkshort)

#2 — taken (@starstruckunknown-princess)

#3 — taken (@vivian-pascal)

#4 — max phillips x reader, the eternal night (@ozarkthedog)

#5 — dieter bravo x reader, no solo riders (@missredherring)

HIKING

#1 — taken (@leslie-lyman)

#2 — frankie x reader, beneath the silent boughs, whispers of dangers flow (@joelalorian)

#3 — javier pena x reader, flora and fauna (@hellishjoel)

#4 — dieter x reader, a lesson in nature (@the-orange-tabby-cat)

#5 — joel miller x reader, stranded (@joelscurls)

WEDDINGS

#1 — taken (@amanitacowboy)

#2 — javier pena x reader, una noche en medellín (@luxurychristmaspudding)

#3 — marcus pike x reader, we'll regret this in the morning (@thesluttylittleknee)

#4 — dieter bravo x reader, princesa bride (@rhoorl)

#5 — joel miller x reader, my place or yours (@criticallyacclaimedstranger)

HEAT WAVE

#1 — javier pena x reader, like a fever (@pedgito)

#2 — joel miller x reader, consider it a favor (@chaotic-mystery)

#3 — taken (@quinnnfabrgay-writes)

#4 — taken (@rulexofxnines)

#5 — marcus moreno x reader, a little help goes a long way (@iluvstrawberry)

MUSEUM

#1 — taken (@carusolikey)

#2 — din djarin x reader, a perfect day (@flightlessangelwings)

#3 — pero tovar x reader, moonlight flight (@sawymredfox)

#4 — marcus pike x reader, when's the last time you lived (@avastrasposts)

#5 — joel miller x reader, who we were (@studioghibelli)

Please make sure to tag your entries under #SummerLovin24 and tag either @chaotic-mystery, @amanitacowboy, or myself (@pedgito)! These will all be reblogged through the week of June 20th-22nd!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #javier peña #dieter bravo #max phillips #dave york #marcus pike #marcus moreno #jack whiskey daniels #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #SummerLovin24

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covetyou · 1 month ago

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single rider

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader rating: teen (18+ only blog!) warnings: broken theme park rides, fluff, hand holding, scared!Dieter, Cliff Beasts slander, swearing, seriously so much hand holding though. word count: 2.5k summary: Not a thing goes wrong when you visit a theme park for festive fun with friends. Not a single thing at all.

A/N: happy dieter bravo brainrot club secret santa-mas @burntheedges! I'm so sorry this is basically at the last possible minute (15 minutes late, actually). The spoon drawer is empty and I'm working with forks rn.

I took liberties with your "accidentally booked the same rental" and "randomly assigned tour buddies" prompts and mashed them up with the real life experience of getting stuck on Toy Story Mania for like 10 minutes in 2023 (let me tell you, that music does NOT stop). it makes sense, I promise.

@dieterbravobrainrotclub

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

The time mocks you, numbers glaring down bright in the darkness. Seventy-Five minutes. Over an hour of your time. In a queue.

Another day, it'd be funny. Another day, you'd have the time to spare, no friends waiting in the parking lot for you to ride the one thing they all refused to. You suppose that's what you get for coming here with a bunch of thrill seekers.

You didn't really understand their objection. The thing had thrills and excitement, just not the kind that would flip you upside down and launch you into the air at a million miles an hour. It wasn't old and decrepit like some other rides.

Okay, so it wasn't exactly new, either. Or good. You knew that.

But you liked it. You liked the jaunty music and the silly little shooting game - pelting eggs at anything and everything that popped up as you slowly trundled through scene after scene. It was charming. Nostalgic, somehow, despite only being something you ever experienced as an adult. It was exactly what you needed after an entire evening of listening to your nearest and dearest scream themselves hoarse on rollercoasters.

But seventy-five fucking minutes? Was it worth seventy-five minutes?

The people still joining the queue seem to think so. The bored looking attendant waving them through seems less thrilled, staring into the middle distance as they absentmindedly wave group after group into the line.

That was just the thing. Even on a regular day, the queue was something to behold. It was cheesy and tacky and glorious, everything you wanted just about every day of the year. But, every year, they did something special for the holidays. A festive overlay like you've never seen. Gaudy and horrendous in all the right ways, and part of you just needed to see it.

"Single-riders can queue over there."

It takes you a moment to realize the monotone drone of the ride attendant is directed at you, standing frowning up at the sign that now reads eighty minutes.

The attendant speaks again, waving one hand to guide yet more people into the rapidly growing queue, while thrusting a thumb over to another sign - arrow pointed away from the main queue - that says single rider.

"But does it -" you start, before that same monotonous drawl cuts you off.

"Still got the decorations."

Naturally, you don't even think before you're moving. Even when the single-rider line looks supiciously like an emergency exit.

It's not. It's everything you hoped. You track alongside the queues and groups, music blaring and people laughing and chattering over it all. Outdated animatronics from all over the park sit in here, draped in holiday outfits, santa hats flopping around on their stuttering heads.

And then, once you've breezed past all eighty minutes of queue in no time at all, you make it to the front of an empty line, feeling like you've cheated the system and screwed over all the people infinitely more patient than you.

"Six to a car! Split up your groups! Six to a car! Three each side!"

You know the drill, even if the other people do not. Groups of four trying to scramble to fit into sides with only three launchers and not nearly enough ass space. Others getting split awkwardly between multiple cars. All while you stand, and wait, for whatever space you might be slotted into.

It takes all of two minutes. You missed who loaded into the front side of your car - too busy grinning to yourself at a particularly shitty animatronic and the absolutely not PG way it's moving in it's old age - but you're being called over and loaded into the car and whisked away to the training room in no time, the little jerking goblin soon forgotten.

And fuck is it just as delightful as you'd hoped.

Baubles and ornaments replace the eggbasket - each one smashing against targets as they hit home, no bursting yolk in sight. The car spins and turns with each new room, and you're poised and ready to begin firing each time, jingling bells and twinkling lights guiding you through scene after scene.

Even if you waited eighty minutes, it would've been worth it, you think as the car flips again, sliding you to one side as you begin shooting again, the sounds of giggles and shouts from other cars drowned out by your own laughter.

The score on your screen rapidly increases. You miss the hot air balloon, but you knock back the snowman with an ornament straight to the head. The big 1000 pointer just escapes you, but you nail three 750s in quick succession. You don't hear the swearing from your car mate, back to back and shielded from each other as you both are.

You're so lost in it, racking up points and taking in the music and carnage in front of you, that you're still shooting when the lights dim and the swaying car grinds to a halt. The launcher in your hand becomes unresponsive, the music going around and around in a loop as other cars start to look around with the same question in their eyes as you.

What the fuck is going on?

"Sit tight, the ride will begin moving again shortly!"

You don't believe the automated voice coming through the loud speaker the first time, and you certainly don't believe it the fifth. After eight minutes, you're starting to understand just why the queue was so long in the first place.

Then, just as you tap out a frantic message to your waiting friends, your car starts to rock and shuffle, your unseen car-mate moving around behind you.

"Hello?" comes a man's voice, just about audible over the repeated cycle of music.

"Anyone there?" he asks, a knock to the back of his seat making your turn in yours.

"I'm here."

You expect to make small talk with the unseen stranger until the ride starts moving again. You expect to never see his face and just shout over the music, between the calls of the automated message, having a stilted conversation until you're both back to shooting again.

You don't expect the ride car to sway again, or to hear scrambling feet on plastic, and you certainly don't expect to first seen an arm, then a foot, then a scruffy head, clamber around the side of the car, feet not touching the ground as he switches sides to sit right next to you.

"Thank fuck," he says breathlessly when he plops himself next to you in the car, looking around with frantic, terrified eyes.

You gape at him. Usually you'd be scared of a strange man climbing into your ride car, but his own look of terror far eclipses yours and, beyond that, you're certain you know him from somewhere.

"Are you okay?" you ask tentatively when his eyes shoot from side to side at the start of another loop of that music, once jaunty and cheesy in a fun way, now infuriating and borderline creepy.

"No!" he says. "Have you seen this shit?"

He finally looks at you - you definitely know him from somewhere - and you're stunned. He's a mess of scruffy, curly hair and patchy beard. He might be tanned in other lighting, but right now he just looks a splotchy mess of technicolor wearing loungewear and, fuck, is he beautiful.

Another sudden burst of color - a light glitching and resetting, yet again - and he recoils in the seat next to you.

"Oh fuck no. This is some Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory shit," he shouts, gripping the bar in front of him with white knuckles. He's looking around frantically, as if terrorized by the idea of Santa on his sleigh, until a jaunty looking snowman pops up and has Dieter throwing himself back in his seat with a yelp.

"The one with Gene-"

"Yes the one with Gene Wilder, there is no other."

He's holding himself now. It's surprisingly endearing watching him restrain himself from gripping onto you, and instead clutching his hands tightly to his arms, while he shakes his head and mutters something about how he can't believe this.

"Scared?" you probe, and he shakes his head again.

"You cannot tell me this isn't nightmare fuel."

You shrug. "I like the ride."

"So do I, but this," he says, flapping around to the swirling lights, "is not what I signed up for. I queued an hour for this. I've had bad trips better than this. This would be better on a bad trip."

The announcement sounds again - shortly feeling like more and more of an infuriating lie each time you hear it - and the man takes a deep breath, slouching back into the seat, releasing his arms, and gripping the plastic edge of it.

You don't know what compells you. You never would do something like this usually - you are a strictly hands-off person where strangers or vague acquantances are concerned. Still, you reach for his hand where it sits near to you on the plastic bench seat, and grip it softly in your own.

"What - What're you doing?" he asks, letting his hand sit limp in yours.

You clear your throat and stare ahead at the repeating scene on the screen - hot air balloon, target, Santa's sleigh, snowman, fireworks, hot air balloon, target, Santa's sleigh...

"Holding your hand."

He nods, as if that's all he needed to know, and looks ahead too, shuffling a little in his seat. You both watch another full cycle, the lights dancing in the same exact pattern they have over, and over again, and you think this must be how you go insane, sat trapped here on a ride car with a beautiful, if slightly unhinged, strangers hand in yours.

"Why?"

You blink. You're stupid. You're weird. You're unhinged. He climbed around the side of the car and yet you've out-stranged him in one simple movement, and now you're stuck here, committed to the bit until -

"You're scared. It's nice to have someone when you're scared," you say quickly, uncertain as you possibly could be as the words tumble out of your mouth. In truth, you don't really know why you did it, or why you're still doing it, other than he seemed like he needed it. And maybe you did too.

He just grunts, and you sit in as much silence as you can among the repetitive chaos of the ride.

Then, with no warning, he starts moving his thumb, stroking the side of your hand in a gentle wave of movement. Your breath catches, and you watch from the corner of your eye as his nervous energy dissipates until he slouches against the seat of the car.

"Dieter. I'm D - fuck - Dieter," he says softly, a red and green light blasting him right in the face and making him wince.

But then it hits you. Not the light - that, thankfully, stays on the other side of the car, blinding a squinting Dieter beside you.

No. It's this man. Dieter. You know him. You've seen him on your TV about a million times this last month - that shitty movie always plays just before Christmas, and this year is no exception. The movie was terrible, for all you'd seen of it. It was some ensemble cast mostrosity with terrible CGI monsters and even worse acting, not at all festive in the slightest and made even more annoying by the ads littered throughout it.

From what you remember, he was terrible too. An Oscar winning actor, cast in some movie so shitty it didn't even gain a cult following. The only thing you heard was any good was the documentary that came out of it, but if your friends were to be believed, that was only good because of copious amounts of explosions and illicit substances.

He sighs, easily spotting whatever baffled look just slapped you in the face the moment you realised his identity, and looks away from you.

"Yeah, that Dieter."

"Cool," you choke out.

Because it kind of is. It's not every day you get stuck on a ride with a famous actor. It's not every day you get to hold his hand and have him stroke soothing circles across your knuckles. It's not every day you get to see just how much more beautiful he is up close compared to his slick-haired, eyelinered counterpart in that god damned movie.

"Sit tight, the ride will begin moving again shortly!"

"Bullshit," he grumbles from beside you, shifting closer to your side so he can rest your arm against the seat.

"Favorite food?" you ask suddenly.

"What?"

"Favorite food? Time's gonna pass anyway, may as well fill it with something that isn't hot air balloon, target, sleigh, snowman -"

"I hate that fuckin' snowman. Tacos. Yours?"

"Who doesn't love tacos."

The ride never does get started again.

Instead, minutes pass, and you throw question after question back and forth with Dieter. The lights go out. He grips your hand a little tighter, and you pull to scoot him a little closer. The lights come up. The spell is broken. The nightmare is over. You're fairly sure you'll have that song ringing in your ears for weeks.

You still hold his hand.

One by one the ride cars are evacuated. Yours is last. Dieter helps you down from the car, his hand finding yours again, still warm from being in his for so long.

Then, you're walking beside an illuminated track and blank screens, abandoned ride car after abandoned ride car, and you're free, with Dieter by your side.

You escape via the gift shop - the novelty toys and candy ignored, Dieter's hand guiding you toward the exit so he can throw his head back in glee at the sight of the wide open sky above him.

In your pocket, your phone buzzes frantically, messages bombarding you now that you weren't trapped in the depths of a metal building. 6 new messages. 2 missed calls. Your friends, still waiting in the parking lot, trying to reach you while the lights blared and the music played.

>>did the ride eat you?

>>if she doesn't hurry up i'm gonna eat her

>>sorry I get grouchy when I'm hungry

>>have you got locked in the bathroom again?

>>THE QUEUE IS OVER AN HOUR?!>!?!?!

>>this egg game owes us dinner

"You want tacos?" Dieter asks from beside you as you hastily tap out a reply, and before you can answer you look up to see him striding away into the crowd, parting the stream of foot traffic with his broad frame until it engulfs him.

You can't help the feeble whimper that escapes you when you watch him walk away. Or the way your arms fall limply to your side when he's out of your view and gone.

You can't help the smile, either, that pulls at your cheeks when he bobs and weaves back through the crowd, stopping a few steps away and jabbing the thumb on one hand over his shoulder and holding the other out to you.

"You coming?" he shouts, with an expectant look on his face, and with a swipe of your thumb, the message is deleted, quickly replaced by another as you make your way toward him, hand reaching for his.

>you guys go ahead, I'm gonna be a while longer

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fic #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #coveted fics #dieter bravo brainrot club

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nomie-11 · 5 months ago

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Chapter 10 - Shifting Tides

<- previous chapter | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter ->

“Soo, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Violet starts as the three of them walk down their new dorm. First year dorms may be the smallest private dorms on campus, but damn, all Genevieve could think was that was the best night sleep of her life.

“I felt like celebrating,” She said, and Genevieve whistled.

“You didn’t think to ask me first?” She says, her words light as a small smile comes on her face.

“You have enough on your plate, sex wise,” Rhiannon said, teasing Genevieve. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?” She asks Violet. “Ridoc definitely has a thing for you, not emotionally just physically, and Liam has a thing for you emotionally.”

“Liam? Liam Mairi? You’re insane.” Violet says, waving her off. “And either way, if he wants to celebrate with me, he’s going to have to ask first.”

Genevieve and Rhiannon laugh, and she giggles too, a blush on her cheeks.

“Good morning, Ladies.” Ridoc says, forcing his way through the crowd and slinging an arm around their shoulders as they enter the dining hall. “Or should I say, riders.”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction.

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees.

“It definitely sounds better than dead.” Genevieve says, her voice serious but the tone implicates a tease.

“Where’s your relic?” Violet asks, used to ignoring the awful offhand comments Genevieve makes.

“Right here,” He says, his arm falling off of their shoulders as he rolls his sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown silhouette of a dragon on his upper arm. “You?”

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.” Ridoc whistles, and he spins to face Rhiannon.

“And you? What about yours, Rhi?”

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” She responds, and he laughs.

“You wound me.” He slaps a hand over his heart.

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there's a smile on her face. The group moves through the hall into the line for breakfast.

“And Genevieve?” He asks Rhiannon, completely bypassing asking Genevieve who he knows isn’t paying attention.

“On her back,” Rhiannon says. “It’s crazy looking. Her rebellion relic mixes with her dragon relic. It’s insane.”

As they make their way through the line, Genevieve’s mind is elsewhere. It feels as if the energy in the dining hall has shifted. It’s different now.

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in a context Genevieve hasn’t heard. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.”

“I can,” Violet shrugged, taking her chances with a maybe poisoned mug of apple juice. “I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out of the wing.”

“I don’t even know what you’re saying, but they’d have to kill me first,” Genevieve says, taking a bite out of her own apple. As they walk to the fourth wing section of the cafeteria, they find a table and only three extra seats.

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts.

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench.

“Sorry, Hale!” The other says over his shoulder as they find another table.

What the fuck?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and Genevieve sits on the other side as Violet follows.

“Even weirder?” Ridoc remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing.

The girls follow his line of sight, and their eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take a seat.

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews. Jack moves again, and then again.

”Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Ridoc notes, watching the same show they all are. There’s no satisfaction in their view, everyone knows feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered.

“Hey, Hale,” the stocky girl from First Wing I beat in my second challenge says with a tight smile as she walks past our table.

“Hey,” she says, nodding her head, but then she turns to face Rhiannon. “That girl hasn’t spoken one word to me since I threatened her hair when she beat up Violet.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench. She sits, pushing the sleeves up from her tunic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Hale, are now the most powerful rider in the quadrant. If they weren’t scared before they’re definitely scared now.”

She blinks, her pulse elevating. Is that what is going on? Social groups have split, but it still doesn’t make sense-

“Which is why you’re sitting with us now?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised.

Genevieve glances around the table, to the seconds years, Quinn and Imogen, and to Sawyer who has finally arrived. Imogen is cool and Quinn is cool as well, but this was strange. Genevieve’s eyes glance at the patches on their jackets, but she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows that her patches mean Flame Section, Fourth Wing, First Year, and now also Iron Squad.

“You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before, and now you’ve survived Threshing, so you’re worth it.” Imogen responds as she bites into a muffin. Suddenly the third years in their section sit down too, and Genevieve almost chokes on the apple she’s been nursing the entirety of breakfast.

“My dragon is not that cool, if that's what you’re looking for,” She says, biting her tongue from saying anything mean.

“I take immediate offense to that,” Tairn huffs. “Now eat something more than an apple and get over your fear that Oren has poisoned you.”

“I’m not eating the food on my plate,” Genevieve counters. “It’s definitely poisoned.”

“We aren’t looking for your dragon,” Imogen says, her voice strong. “We’re looking for you, because now you’re under our watch. Now eat your food.”

Genevieve looks bewildered, but she doesn’t say a single thing.

“You’re the Iron Squad, and you and Violet both have some crazy dragons on your tail. That means eyes are on you from every direction. A huge red target is painted on your back.” Her voice is low, but it cuts through the clamor of the hall. “And whether you like it or not, this balance isn’t going to change any time soon, so get used to it.”

Genevieve glances at Rhiannon, confusion evident on her face.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” She says, her words biting and strong.

“Oh, Xaden didn’t tell you?” She says, a sly smile on her face. “Tairn and Sgaeyl are mated, so even though your relic isn’t on your arm, you’re one of us now.”

“Oh shit,” Ridoc whispers, and Violet nods her head in agreement.

“You’re in our squad now.”

—————————————-

Violet had explained to Genevieve that mated dragons aren’t common, not even by a long shot, and to let mated dragons bond riders in different years was unheard of, but dragons do what dragons want, as exemplified by Violet.

She explained that Xaden and Genevieve themselves are now binded, their lives intertwined in some sick curse that ties their fate with a little red string. When one dies, the other dies, when one gets hurt, the other feels it, when one feels another strong emotion, the other feels the emotion. She was never alone with Tairn now, but not only was Tairn in her head, Xaden was too.

“Stop thinking so hard and get on my back, we have maneuvers to master,” Tairn grumbled, his voice low. She mounted his back, and found her seat easily.

“Were you planning on telling me? That you and Sgaeyl were mated?” She asked over the bond, her mind distracted from her actions.

“Sgaeyl had assured me that the wingleader would tell you, and that I shouldn’t worry about it,” He said, his tone grumpy like it usually was. “I see now that he did not, and I should stop trusting that wingleader.”

“You don’t like Xaden?” She asked, as they took off, following second behind Professor Kaori, who Tairn had said he would only follow because he was Genevieve’s professor.

“I don’t like the boy,” Tairn huffed. “But Sgaeyl loves him, so I won’t char him. Maybe I’ll lightly toast him.”

“You shouldn’t set him on fire anyways, he’s an asset,” She said quickly, ignoring the blush rising on her cheeks. Genevieve cast another glance down at Violet, a few dragons back. Andarna didn’t come, Violet flew on Astrape alone. “What’s the deal with Violet and Astrape?” Genevieve asked, quickly diverting the conversation away from Xaden and onto Violet. “She looks like she can’t hold her seat.”

“She can’t,” Tairn replies, banking left, following Kaori into the canyons. “Astrape is one of the strongest dragons in the vale, maybe third to Codagh and I. Her powers are keeping Violet in that seat.”

“Shouldn’t she be saving her powers, for…” Genevieve trailed off, not knowing how to verbalize what she wanted to say. “…combat?”

“Stop asking meaningless questions,” Tairn huffed, his annoyance evident in every word that was communicated in their bond. “Astrape has more power in her than most other dragons could even imagine having. She will be fine.”

And Genevieve nodded, who was she to argue with a dragon, an all-mighty, all-knowing being. The dragon that had chosen her. She was not one to argue. Her grip tightened on Tairn’s back as the cool rush of wind from the canyon blew against her hot skin. She knew better than to press Tairn when he was already somewhat irritated, but she wanted to know how Violet was keeping her seat.

As they neared the sharp turns of the canyon, Genevieve let the questions go, her focus snapping to the task at hand. Flight training was brutal, she couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration. Train’s powerful wings sliced through the air as they banked hard left, narrowly avoiding the jagged cliffs that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Kaori’s dragon led the pack, weaving through the narrow paths with ease. She could sense Tairn’s irritation at following anyone, but for some reason, it felt as if he cared enough about her to swallow his pride.

Behind her, the presence of a struggling Violet claws at her mind.

Be quiet, Geneiveve, She chastised herself. Violet is your friend. She’s trying. Be nice.

“I didn’t know nice was in your vocabulary,” Train huffed. “Now focus.”

“I am!” She shot back, adjusting her posture as they approached a narrow pass. The jagged rocks below glinted dangerously in the sunlight, promising death to anyone who made the wrong move.

As they passed the gap, her eyes flicked back to Violet, who was struggling more visibly now. Astrape’s wings beat with precise power, but there was something off about the way Violet held herself in the saddle. She was slipping, her body tense and rigid, as if each move was a desperate attempt to stay upright. Geneiveve knew that look–the look of someone who was fighting for control, not just over their dragon, but over themselves.

“She’s going to fall,” Genevieve muttered over the bond, her heart skipping a beat.

“She won’t,” Train replied, his voice steady but cold. “Astrape won’t let her.”

Kaori signaled the next maneuver–a sharp dive into a winding ravine, followed by an immediate ascent. Genevieve could feel the pressure in her chest as Tairn obeyed, plunging toward the ground with a terrifying speed that left her stomach in knots.

As they pulled up, her breath caught in her throat as Tairn shot off. He was so fast. The wind in her hair was so freeing.

“You ready?” Train asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge.

“Always.”

With a swift movement, they dove into the loops, Train’s wings angling perfectly to guide them through the tight spaces. Genevieve felt every shift, every beat in sync with her movements. They were seamless, an extension of each other. The world blurred around her as they cut through the air, the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

But out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Violet, behind her, struggling more than ever. Astrape’s wings fell, just for a split second, and Genevieve knew–knew deep in her heart–that Violet wasn’t going to make it through the next turn.

“Violet!” She shouted, the sound swallowed by the rush of wind, her heart lurching.

She felt the tug of the bond, Xaden’s awareness surging into her thoughts. He felt it too, the fear, the instinct to protect. But Genevieve couldn’t let herself be distracted by that–by him.

“Leave it!” Train barked, sensing her instinct to intervene.

Genevieve hesitated, her grip tightening as the next loop approached. She had to make a decision. Focus on the maneuver, or–

Astrape dipped down, grabbing Violet with her claws and tossing her back into her seat.

“Thank the gods,” Genevieve whispered, her own heart racing as if she was the one who fell.

“Look at you, you have emotions!” Train laughed.

“Oh, shut up!”

—————————————

“Were you planning on-” her shin came into contact with the punching bag she was using. “never telling me that our dragons are mated?”

Xaden’s eyes were dead set onto her body under the guise of watching her train. Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Liam, and a few other rebellion kids were in the gym. As Genevieve’s eyes cast over the room, her eyes narrowed on Violet.

“And why is Imogen training Violet?” Her other leg made contact strongly, but she was distracted, so she stumbled back.

“I was going to tell you, I was just waiting for…” he trailed off, his words lost on an already angry Genevieve.

“No you weren’t. You were going to wait for me to ask like always,” she snapped. Her eyes held so much rage, Xaden could feel the flames of anger engulfing him. “Did you manipulate Threshing?” Her voice was a dangerous whisper. “Did you tell Sgaeyl to bond me so we would be linked together?”

“Of course not!” He immediately responded. “This is the worst case scenario, I do not want to be linked to you.”

Genevieve’s expression narrowed, her body going rigid with tension. Her expression darkened as she took a step closer to Xaden, the sheen of her sweat glistening under the mage lights, but her focus was far from the physical exertion of training. “Worst case scenario?” She repeated, her words venomous. “So being bound to me is so repulsive that it’s your worst case scenario?”

Xaden ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching with tension as the weight of his own words sank in.

“Gen, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” his voice softened, trying to ease the fire that radiated off of Genevieve. “This bond just complicates things—everything. You know that.”

She scoffed, eyes flicking between him and the rest of the room. The rebellion kids continued their sparring, laughter mingling with the sharp sound of fists hitting targets, completely unaware of the storm brewing between them. Violet had slowed her movements, however, casting a glance in their direction. It only fueled Genevieve’s resentment.

Genevieve’s fingers curled into fists, her knuckles whitening with the force of her anger. She took another deliberate step toward Xaden, her voice low and cutting, barely concealing the fury beneath the surface. “Complicates things for you, you mean.” Her eyes narrowed further, the tension in her muscles betraying her desire to his something—maybe even someone. “Because Gods forbid you have to deal with the consequences of anything outside your control.”

Xaden’s jaw tensed as he fought to keep his composure, but Genevieve’s words hit home. He’d always prided himself on control—of his dragon, his squad, his emotions—and now, it was unraveling. Genevieve, with her endless need for vengeance, her relentless drive, and now their unwanted bond, was the epicenter of that chaos. She was the reason.

“I didn’t choose this,�� he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration. “Do you think I wanted Tairn to bond with you? This is as much of a shock to me as it is to you.” His faze flickered away briefly, landing on Violet again, who had now fully paused her training to watch. That momentary distraction only inflamed Genevieve’s temper further.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. She advanced again, her proximity forcing Xaden to meet her eyes. “This isn’t about the bond alone. This is about trust. This is about the fact that you kept this from me. That you decided what I should or shouldn’t know, like you always do.”

Xaden’s face hardened. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was trying to figure out the details of it, how to handle it before—”

“Before what?” Genevieve’s voice rose now, drawing the attention of the others in the gym. Xaden’s group of friends in the training gym paused, sensing the rising tensions. “Before you thought it was convenient to share? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice the massive life-altering detail until it was too late for me to get angry?”

Liam, sensing the explosive energy in the room, began walking toward them, his easy grin faltering, but Garrick held him back, shaking his head with an easy ‘no’. Imogen and Bodhi exchanged glances, but they stayed in place. Violet’s eyes lingered, her posture tense, though she hadn’t moved.

Xaden stepped closer to Genevieve now, his voice lowered but charged with intensity. “I was waiting until I could tell you in a way that didn’t—”

“Make you look like the selfish bastard you are?” Genevieve interjected harshly, her words hitting with the force of a blow. Her body was shaking, but not from the fatigue. It was from the rage she’d been suppressing since Imogen told her news that Xaden should have said in private. Since she’d realized that Xaden, despite everything they’d shared, still decided to withhold something so vital.

He flinched, a flash of regret crossing his face, but he didn’t retreat. “You know that’s not true,” he said quickly, but with conviction. “You know I never wanted this, but I didn’t want to make it worse either.”

”Worse?” Genevieve spat, her eyes blazing. “There is no ‘worse,’ Xaden. They’re dragons that bind our fate down to our own deaths and you let Imogen, someone who is practically a stranger, tell me? Instead of facing it and telling me you ran. You ran from me, from this, from everything.”

For a moment, the silence between them was deafening. The others in the gym held their breaths, waiting for the explosion. Genevieve’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she glared at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that would justify his actions. But Xaden remained still, his expression unreadable as he weighed his next words carefully.

“I didn’t run,” he said finally, his voice like a storm on the horizon—low, dark, and gathering strength. “I’m here, aren’t I? Fighting for us, for whatever the hell this bond means.”

Genevieve’s gaze hardened further, but something flickered beneath her fury. His words had struck a chord, and for a brief second, she felt the weight of his own burdens, his fears. But it wasn’t enough to douse the fire inside her.

“And yet,” she whispered, stepping back, the space between them feeling like a chasm, “you keep pushing me away. Every time I get close, every time there’s a chance for something between us that isn’t just physical, you shut down. You keep your secrets, your plans, and now even this from me.”

The gym was still now, the air thick with unspoken tension. Everyone was watching, waiting for the next move. But Genevieve didn’t care. She was done playing his games, done being a pawn in a world of half-truths and manipulations.

“Maybe being bound to you really is the worst-case scenario,” she said bitterly, her voice cold as ice. “Because I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”

The mage light above her blew out in a craze of sparks and glitter, and it felt like her skin was on fire with… magic.

“Day one of dragon bonds,” Imogen started, awe laced into the sarcasm she normally carried.

“And Genevieve is already channeling.” Violet finished.

And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving the gym and a stunned silence in her wake, her anger radiating like heat off her skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! What’s up? I’ve currently written a few chapters ahead so I can keep updating twice a week for at least a few weeks, so hopefully this new schedule makes you all happy!

On another note, I just wanted to say thank you for all of your words of appreciation and your compliments, I seriously cannot believe you guys actually read what I write and for you to tell me how much you love it makes me so happy I want to cry.

Please, like and comment if you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts! What’re your predictions on her signet? I want to know~

#violet sorrengail #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing xaden #liam mairi #xaden and sgaeyl #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson #garrick tavis x reader #bodhi durran #the empyrean #the wounded healer

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unstablefragments2 · 3 months ago

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Mizuno Wave Rider 10 Vintage Khaki

#mizuno #sneakers

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ladykailitha · 11 months ago

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The Harrington Pattern Part 11

The second one for today.

There is a joust, a wild Eddie shows off his mating dance, and Steve and Jeff plot a romance.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

****

Steve sat on the edge of his seat as he cheered each successful strike the Black Knight made and winced with every hit he took.

The kids were loudly shouting and cheering and even Nancy would leap to her feet when the Black Knight won a match.

It was down to the final match. The Black Knight verses the White Lion. They were two points each. Final run.

The horses pawed at the ground. The knights shifted in their armor as they tried to settle the joints. Every person in that stadium was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward as they held their collective breath.

The man stepped forward with the flag and eyed each knight nervously. He looked up at the king and queen. The king nodded giving his consent. The flag dropped and the man leapt out of the way.

The horses raced down the line as the knights lowered their lances. The audience slowly rose to their feet as the horses thundered toward each other.

No one had yet taken a single breath.

Then...

CLASH!

And the White Lion flew to the ground as his horse made it to the other side of the arena. His squire grabbed the horses reins to stop it from running away.

The whole crowd erupted, the breath finally released in shouts of exultation.

The Black Knight and his squire were at their other end of field, whooping and hollering as they celebrated his win.

Steve and Robin grabbed each other and jumped up and down. They hadn’t seen anything so exciting since Lucas made the final shot of the game.

And it appeared that the boy in question thought the same as he kept screaming “YES!!”

The Black Knight took off his helmet and waved at the crowd. And their entire row let out a gasp.

“Jeff?” Dustin squealed. “Jeff was the Black Knight all along? That is so awesome!”

Now Lucas was completely flipping out. No one could deny that Jeff had won fair and square. That he had the superior skill.

Steve looked over at the king and queen. Neither one of them looked happy to see it had been Jeff the whole time. But they appeared gracious enough when they were handing out the prizes.

Steve was cheering and screaming right along with the rest of them. And it was a cool surprise. Who would have thought that Jeff played his favorite sport.

After the award ceremony they were allowed to go see Jeff at the stable.

Steve looked around when he entered. Jeff caught his eye and grinned. They both knew who he was looking for.

“He’s getting ready,” Jeff said with a wink. “You’ll just not want to miss the next event.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Whatever it was, he knew it was going to be amazing. He just wished he had more of an idea of what it was. He looked out at the arena floor and saw that the long wooden partition for the joust had been taken down and workers were quickly putting up... what, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Just let me get out of this armor,” Jeff was saying, “and I’ll join you guys in the stands.”

As they walked back to the stands, Robin pulled out her flier of the day’s events and Steve looked over her shoulder.

“What’s trick riding?” he mumbled.

But she just shrugged. She didn’t know either.

They sat up in the stands and they talked among themselves as the workers finished up what they were doing.

The field was mostly empty except a small platform where the rider would mount their horse.

There were two horses, both black with weird looking saddles.

The announcer got up and bellowed into a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the first time ever here at the Hawkins Renaissance Fair we have Hawkins own Eddie Munson trick riding extraordinaire.”

Eddie stepped out onto the field but gone were the puffy sleeves and thigh high boots. His costume was tight fitting and boots were soft soled. It still looked period, but it was clearly designed from modern materials which would make it easier to move in.

Strapped to his back was a lute, the same lute he had been carrying all week.

He mounted the platform and waved to the crowd.

Eddie got on to the first horse and got it into motion. The other horse merely shook its mane as it waited patiently for its turn.

Eddie raised his feet and slipped them into a set of stirrups higher up on the saddle. Sending a wink Steve’s way, he stood up on the horse and began to play.

He began singing. Horribly. Eddie was a fine enough singer for their band, but it seemed to Steve he was deliberately off key as he sang ribald bar tunes.

He slipped a harness over his head and around his waist. Then to shock of the crowd, slid off the side of the horse. Steve was on his feet, so sure that Eddie would be crushed under the thundering hooves the galloping horse.

But as the horse turned, Steve could see that Eddie was safe and still playing.

His caterwauling got progressively worse the more dangerous the stunt was. Almost as if he was signaling to the audience that he was safe.

He made it back to the platform where he handed the lute off to someone who had stepped out onto the field for the reason. They removed the saddle off the one horse Eddie had been riding and he straddled both horses, one foot on each.

And off he went racing around the arena.

Steve was sure that his heart had stopped several times, once with every trick Eddie did.

He was also pretty sure that wasn’t good for it.

But Eddie landed every trick like a pro and at the end he hopped off the platform with a jaunty wave and a deep bow.

Steve was cheering up and down as the crowd around him erupted with applause.

Eddie bowed again and with the other guy that had taken his lute, lead the horses away.

Steve isn’t sure who was more impressed by Eddie’s riding the kids or Nancy. Her jaw had dropped from the first trick and remained that way all throughout Eddie’s riding.

“Where did he learn that?” she asked.

Jeff grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Everyone exchanged glances as the whole gaggle followed Jeff back to the stable where Eddie and the other guy were brushing down the horses Eddie had used in his show.

The man, who on closer inspection was a teenage old boy spotted Jeff and waved. “Jeffrey! You did great out there today. Mom hasn’t stopped gushing about it.”

The Party turned to Jeff in shock. But he just chuckled.

“Guys,” he said, “this is my little brother Ollie. Ollie, you remember Gareth and Brian, the boys are Hellfire, the girls kick ass, and the two guys are the brat wranglers.”

Jonathan and Steve shared a look before they chorused, “Hey!”

Eddie laughed, but did the proper introducing. When he got to Steve, Ollie’s eyes went wide and nodded.

“Steve Harrington,” Ollie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve frowned. “From Jeff?” he asked, confused.

“No, man,” Ollie said with a laugh, “from Eddie.”

Who promptly ducked behind his horse under the guise of brushing its mane.

Steve licked his lips slowly as a sly smile took over his face. “No doubt only horrible things,” he teased.

Eddie let out a squawk and glared at him from around the horse. “Hey!”

Steve laughed and Eddie let out a little huff of breath as he pouted.

“Our parents own the horses,” Jeff said, “We have three that joust and two the trick ride and then there’s King, who was a racehorse in his heyday.”

Ollie nodded, “We usually let whoever is playing the king of the Fair ride him at the closing ceremonies. He’s pretty as hell.”

“So like Steve,” Dustin said. “He used to be called King Steve in high school.”

Steve tipped the twerp’s hat off.

“Hey!”

El giggled and Dustin’s head whipped around to face her. She pressed her lips together and looked up and away.

“Can I see King?” Will asked, softly.

Ollie lit up. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Jeff. “I’ve got get him ready for tonight anyway, so I can I have Will help me?”

Jeff smiled at his little brother. “Sure thing, it’ll make the work go faster.”

“He seems like a good kid,” Jonathan said, “how old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” he said, “so he’ll be an incoming freshman this year.”

Lucas smiled. “So a year younger than us.”

Jeff nodded.

“Is he going to join Hellfire?” Dustin asked, practically vibrating out of his skin.

“He wants to but with me graduating last year,” Jeff said with a wince, “he’s worried he won’t know anyone but Gareth.”

Lucas grinned. “Well he knows us now, we’ll hang out with him all summer so that come school time, he’ll have friends in Hellfire.”

Jeff grinned back. “I think he’d really like that.”

Steve smiled at his nuggets. He was glad that they were willing to take this kid they just met under their wing and make sure he didn’t get lost at high school.

He really couldn’t have been prouder. He caught Eddie’s eye and the other man grinned.

He lopped over to Steve, the grin never leaving his face.

“So pretty boy,” Eddie teased. “You enjoy the show?”

Steve nudged him his shoulder. “Of course I did. A bit terrifying on this side of things though.”

Eddie laughed. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s equally terrifying on my end, too.”

“How long have you been doing this then?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and thought about it. “On and off since I got to Hawkins and became friends with Jeff. His mom is the one that thought me, but I’ve only been serious about it in the last couple years. As a way to keep myself from getting too depressed about school.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

When he looked around most of them had gone. It was only Robin, Gareth, Jeff, and Max that remained.

“Where did everyone go?” Will asked as he came out the stall with Ollie.

Robin began counting of on her fingers. “Brian and Mike went to go watch the caber toss on the outskirts of the Fair. Dustin, Lucas and El went to go watch the sword fights. Nancy and Jonathan went to try the ax throwing.” She looked around. “Did I miss anyone?”

The rest of them shook their heads.

“And the rest of us were waiting for Will!” she finished with a cheer.

Will blushed and Eddie and Steve shared a knowing glance.

“Hey, do you and Ollie want to come with me to see the bagpipers?” Max asked Will.

Will and Ollie looked at each other and then nodded as one. The two boys followed the pirate queen, walking side by side.

“Well,” Gareth said, “I’m glad Mike missed that one.”

Robin looked over at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Mike is always jealous of anyone who spends time with Will,” Steve explained, “except El. Even if he spends all his time with her, he still gets jealous when Will gives up and goes to talk to someone else.”

Eddie nodded. “That kid has got to get his head out of his ass, before a sweet boy like Ollie sweeps our Will the Wise off his feet.”

Jeff grinned. “I like that idea!”

Gareth snorted. “You only like that idea because Mike called your thief a common rogue.”

“My thief is literally a lord,” Jeff defended. “Like Lord Kelnic is his name. He can’t be a common rogue.”

Steve leaned over to Eddie and whispered, “What are they talking about?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Eddie whispered back.

Steve nodded, knowing that Eddie would do just that.

“Hey, you want to go for a stroll?” Steve asked. “I don’t care where, really. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.”

Eddie perked up. “Hell yeah! Why don’t I show the behind the scenes stuff most people don’t get to see?”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled.

Robin and Jeff shared a fond glance about their best friends and shook their heads as Eddie led Steve away.

****

Part 12 Part 13

I love jousting Eddie as much as the next gal, but I also realize that Eddie looks like a stiff wind would knock him over and would be flying out of that saddle with every hit. So I made him a trick rider instead.

I also did not set out to write Will a love interest, the love interest just shoved himself into my story and I let him stay.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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sourb0i · 5 months ago

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Just got out of Beetlejuice 2! I'd give it a 4/10 overall

Pros:

All the original actors (Michael Keaton, Catherine O'Hara etc, Wynona Rider) reprised their roles really well; Catherine O'Hara in particular

The relationship between Lydia and Delia was nice; I enjoyed the whole 'you did it to me, now it's happening to you' between Celia, Lydia, and Astrid

Practical effects were good; honestly it was just refreshing to have any at all. I especially liked Charles' shark-bite effect

There were some genuinely funny parts, especially the (first part of) the wedding musical number

I thought Dolores was interesting as an antagonist, and I liked her character design (though I have gripes- see below)

Cons

The vibe just wasn't there. The plot didn't really feel committed to any one thing, and when the movie ended my first thought was "what the fuck was that about?"

There were also a lot of plot holes-- or at least, worldbuilding holes. Why was Beetlejuice working in the Afterlife office? Why is there a crime unit (and laundromat)? Why couldn't Lydia see her dead husband, even though he said he "checked up on [her and Astrid]" periodically?

I am honestly really pissed about how Barbara and Adam were written off. Obviously they can't have the original actors reprising their roles, but they deserved a better ending than a hand-waved one liner.

While Dolores had a lot of potential as an antagonist, she wasn't given nearly enough character. Her only lines (as far as I can remember) were "Where's Beetlejuice". Why is she so obsessed with him? What does she hope to gain by reuniting with him? What's the deal with her soul-sucking quest for immortality? So much wasted potential

The same was true of...the Murderous Boyfriend Who Was Such a Non-Character That I Forgot His Name As Soon As He Said it.

Seriously. They could've set up a great plot twist if they'd given him more character/more set-up with the parents. Instead the guy was a walking red flag.

I also wasn't a huge fan of Astrid's character. Like they set her up to be this girl who is ostracized bc of her mom (fair), but then instead of leaning into that they made her into this Gen Z Feminist/Eco-Warrior archetype, and it just felt like the writers were trying to make fun of that instead of actually making her into a whole person. Like, ok, she knows who Marie Curie is (even tho she got the nationality wrong), but what does she do for fun? What kind of music does she like? Does she have any hobbies outside of activism?

While I enjoyed some of the musical numbers (the wedding, and the soul train particularly) on their own merits, they just felt really out of place. The original had a solid musical theme, but this felt all over the place

Also! I wish we'd gotten to see more of Lydia interacting with ghosts in her day-to-day life! That seems like something that could be really traumatic and/or played up for comedic purposes. I loved the gag with her and the other actress in the bathroom! Give me more of that!

Overall, the movie felt like it didn't really know what to do with itself. There were so many out-of-place cameos (Burn Goreman, I'm looking at you), and stylistically and thematically it never really felt committed to one thing. It was an empty movie with nothing to say, and that's really disappointing, because it had a lot of potential to be something fun.

(Also. Produced by Brad Pitt?????)

#sour speaks #sour watches movies #beetlejuice #i grew up on the original so i was especially looking forward to this #not that i had high expectations #but still. disappointing even for what I expected out of a sequel.#beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetle juice 2 spoilers #beetlejuice beetlejuice spoilers

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gretavangroupie · 10 months ago

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The Ripe and The Ruin - (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 15.7k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Touching.

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."

JAKE POV

“Did you hear me, Jake?”

Your head snaps to the side, your mind refocusing on the conversation being had around you. Josh stares at you with a questioning look on his face, his arms crossed against his chest.

“What? Yeah,” you lie, “That sounds fine.”

“You’re not even listening to me. I asked if you knew what time the van was supposed to be here... What’s up with you? Where are you this morning?” he asks, his tone a little more defensive than usual.

“Huh?” Your eyes flick back to the elevator, your heart beating a little faster than usual as the caffeine starts to swirl around in your bloodstream. You know that any second Y/N is going to step off that elevator and join the rest of you in the lobby.

You can’t seem to shake the kiss from your mind, falling asleep last night playing it over and over in your head. The way her lips felt, soft and warm and so pink. You aren’t really sure why you decided to do it. You weren’t going to, but you’re glad you did. You’d thought of nothing else since, and after the little exchange you had after the fact, you were feeling something that you didn’t feel too often, if ever. Nervous.

You didn’t even know what you were going to say to her today. What do you say after something like that? Should you say anything at all? You know you pushed a professional boundary last night, on the very first night no less. She is your employee, and you are her boss and those two things typically don’t mix well. But you felt something, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and you are certain she must have felt it too.

You look back to Josh, suddenly realizing that if you’re feeling nervous, he’s going to pick up on it. You try to compose yourself, adjusting your jacket on your shoulders and your sunglasses on your nose before turning your full attention back to him.

“Sorry, just jet lag. I think it’s supposed to be here at 10:00,” you pause, glancing at your watch. “It’s 9:56 right now.”

“Since when do you wear a fuckin’ wrist watch? Are you eighty-five?” he quips, huffing a laugh.

You suck your teeth at him, raising a brow. “Since now, fuck you.”

He changes the subject, turning to Sam and Daniel just as the elevator chimes and the doors start to open. Your heart is beating erratically at this point, and you curse yourself for it. You should not be feeling like this. It was one kiss, Jake. It didn’t even mean anything. It was for show.

Right?

You swallow nervously, licking your lips as people start to step out of the elevator. You try to look like you’re engaged in the conversation happening in front of you, but you’re not. She won’t know that though. Your eyes are fixed on the elevator, waiting for your first glimpse of her this morning. She’s one of the very last to step out, her hair hanging in her face as she focuses on her phone. You hear Paul call her name, waving her over towards him and Wes with paperwork in hand.

She looks up just long enough to spot them, returning her gaze to her phone to finish up whatever it is she’s doing. She steps up to them, just out of your immediate sight, but you can still hear them talking as they greet her. Out of the corner of your eye you see Paul hand her the piece of paper he was waving, telling her that the venue has the official hospitality rider, but that the highlighted items needed to be picked up and brought to the venue by her. A chill runs up your spine. What did you request? Why can’t you remember what you asked for? Fuck.

She turns her head as Wes and Paul continue to talk. You can feel her eyes on you, burning into the side of your head as Josh drones on about German water quality. You want to look at her, in fact, you’re dying to see that same pink blush that colored her cheeks last night, but you don’t turn your head. You force yourself to pretend she isn’t even there. You stare off into the distance, letting your mind wander, the noise around you turning into a hum.

“Jake…” Josh shouts, snapping his fingers in front of your face, “Hello? Are you braindead suddenly?”

“Fuck, sorry. What…” you growl, refocusing again.

“Get with it man, I said the van is here. Let’s go,” he answers, nodding towards the door as he follows the rest of the crew outside.

You walk with your hands in your pockets, letting your thumb nail glide over each fingertip in an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You need to get your head right. Snap out of it. You fall to the back of the group, waiting for everyone to load into the two black vans, ready to take you to your venue for the evening. Before you could stop yourself you were looking over your shoulder for her, catching her eyes for the briefest moment before looking away. Fuck, she’s so pretty.

“You want the window?” Josh asks, elbowing your arm.

“Huh? Yeah that’s fine…” you answer blankly, your mind still flooded with the image of her. As you turn back to Josh you see his focus change, locking in on Y/N as she steps up to the two of you. The very last thing you expected.

“Hi, good morning, feeling any better?” she asks. You look to her, then to Josh, remembering he sent her out for medicine last night. You're completely frozen in place as the two of them speak, and you’re sure your face is showing exactly what you’re feeling. Panic.

Josh looks at you for a second, then back to Y/N, very obviously picking up on the nerves pulsing through you as he snickers. “Yes…I…am…Thank you again for doing that last night. I appreciate it.”

You can smell her perfume as it dances through the air, the same sweet floral smell from the plane yesterday. You can’t help but to turn your head and look at her, your eyes drifting to the column of her neck where you know the smell is even stronger. You imagine the way it would feel to kiss her there. The taste of her skin. The sounds she would make. The feeling of her rapid pulse beneath your lips…

Shit. No.

“No problem at all, Josh. Let me know if I can grab you anything else,” she smiles, “I’m off to the market!”

She looks at you for just a second waiting to see if you’re going to say anything, but you don’t, instead offering her a curt smile and nodding your head. Smooth. Really nice, Jake.

She walks away, heading towards the second van with Wes and the rest of management and you feel a wave of relief wash through. You had a little more time to get your head right before you talked to her. You let out a breath, your eyes flicking over to Josh who is looking at you with a knowing look on his face. You shake your head and walk away, ready to load into the van with your backpack slung over your shoulder. Your heart is beating fairly hard and you haven't even spoken to her. Why is she having this effect on you?

You settle on the bench seat, Josh and Ty sliding in next to you. You place your backpack between your legs and pull your phone from your coat pocket, pretending to busy yourself to avoid the conversation you already know is coming.

The app isn’t even open yet before Josh starts to speak, “Alright let’s hear it, Jake. ”

You know there’s no use in pretending to be busy, he won’t stop until you answer him. You lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket letting out an aggravated sigh.

“Hear what, Josh? Why do you already want to start this morning, huh? Can’t I have a moment of peace?”

“Oh please, I could feel your fucking heart pounding like it was in my own chest!” He tilts his head to the side in an attempt to force the truth out of you. He knows he's got you cornered and he wants you to admit it.

You tilt your head mimicking him, giving him a look he knows well. You nod your head, silently telling him that you’ll talk later. Now is not the time or place for any of it.

He stares at you blankly for a second, finally relenting as he turns back towards Ty. Safe for now. You needed to figure this out, quick.

You ride to the venue, listening to everyone’s conversations but offering very little to them. You scroll through your phone, trying your best to keep to yourself, but perking your head up as Josh grabs your attention.

“That reminds me, I talked to Paul. He said it’s going to take a week or so to get more security over here. Corri said she applied for the work visas this morning. Should have some guys over here in less than a week at the latest.”

“Good. Could’ve used someone last night,” you grumble, immediately regretting even letting the words slip from your mouth.

Josh’s head snaps over to you, a serious look in his eyes. “What do you mean? At the airport?”

You know you can’t lie. He will know immediately. “No, um– Just after we checked in. It’s nothing.”

“Last I talked to you, you were ordering room service and going to bed?” he asks, genuinely confused. Fuck, fuck, figure it out Jake.

“Yeah, I did, just— A little thing late last night. Everything ended up being fine. Isolated incident. We’ve got more security coming, it's all good,” you say, hoping he won’t press you on it any further, but as he looks at you with a threatening scowl you know you’ll be recounting every last detail before the day is through.

—

Show days always bring along chaotic mornings that slowly mold into semi-peaceful afternoons, filled with warming your fingers up and psyching your mind up to perform. The four of you always try to keep show days generally the same, with giving yourselves a little bit of downtime before you have to arrive back at the venue after sound check. Today though, the day of the very first show, has already made your head feel like it is going to spin right off your neck. You can feel Josh’s prying eyes watching your every move, waiting for the opportune moment to jump down your throat again.

“Gonna go grab something to drink from the green room, you guys want anything?” Sam asks you and Josh as you fumble around with the wireless mechanisms on your guitar.

“Nah, I’ll get something in a minute,” you reply, watching as he and Danny descend the stairs off the stage and disappear out of sight.

Of course, within seconds your twin is inches from your face, somehow making himself seem bigger than you. “Alright, you gonna tell me about this little incident last night? Or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he presses, and you know damn well that if you don’t give him just the tiniest bit of explanation, he won’t let up. “Wouldn’t have happened to involve our new runner, would it?”

You sigh a heavy sigh, readjusting the blue-tinted glasses sitting on your nose. “Can you lay the fuck off for like two seconds? Jesus Christ…” you back away, anxiously rubbing your hand over your mouth as you try to think of what to even say.

“Don’t avoid the question, asshole. Tell me now. While everyone’s gone,” he goes on, closing in on you again.

You bite your cheeks in, still contemplating. You stay silent, instead strumming a single chord on your guitar in response to him. You hear it echo across the empty venue, smirking to yourself. Sounds perfect.

“Fuck you. Always doing that shit when you’re trying to avoid me. Drowning me out with your loud ass amps… alright. Fine,” Josh readjusts the hat on his head and stomps away across the stage. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go ask her.”

All the blood quickly drains from your body. “Okay, okay, fuck. Come here,” you hold your hand up and signal him back, because you know for a fact he actually would have gone and found her. You stretch the muscles in your neck, rolling your shoulder beneath your guitar strap.

“Y/N went out to a pub last night to get something to eat and have a drink, there was some creep there trying to take her home, wouldn’t let up. She didn’t tell Dean where she was going because it was so late, and she remembered I had… She had my number, so she asked me to come and walk her back to the hotel. That’s it.”

Josh eyes you with his lips pursed closed, trying to get a read if there was anything you were leaving out. He’s gonna know, of course he’s gonna know…

“...That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you concede. “It happened really fast and the place was just around the corner from the hotel. I made it there in like two minutes. Guy was being a complete asshole to her,” you shake your head in disgust at the memory.

Josh crosses his arms across his chest as he exhales, squinting his eyes. “Mmh, so you played hero, huh? I think there’s more to the story than your little rescue mission… but. So she just happened to have your phone number, and no one else’s? Like Paul’s perhaps?” You really need him to quit with the attitude.

“We sat together on the plane for like, a hundred hours, Josh. Yes. She has my phone number because we were talking about her job duties. She will get the rest of yours eventually, I’m sure. I was just first. Fuck…” you begin to wave him off as you start to feel overwhelmed with his twenty questions.

Luckily, Sam and Danny are coming back onto the stage now, the pounding of Danny’s repetitive kick drum drowning out the sound of Josh’s persistence.

Josh’s eyes are squinting at you again as he takes the microphone in his right hand, turning away from it just enough for you to hear him. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. As a wise man once said, it’s very interesting…”

—

HER POV

Your legs carry you quickly through the winding halls to the green room. You can barely see over the brown paper bags in your hands, loaded full to the top with the items on your list this morning. It was a little more difficult of a task than you anticipated, but the translator app on your phone proved to be your best friend. You knew you had to be quick and you did your best, hoping that the items you found would suffice.

You push the door open with your foot, looking for the empty table where the items needed to be set up. You saw a few things that the venue provided sitting on a mostly empty wooden table, and knew that’s where you needed to set up. You plop the heavy paper bags down, smiling as you notice a few drinks have already been scavenged.

You begin pulling things from the bags, setting up the fruit and vegetable trays, and starting to place a variety of drinks into an ice bucket. You pull the paper list from your back pocket, making sure you have everything out for each guy and that you didn’t miss anything in your hurried state. As you make your way down the list you hear the door swing open and a rumble of voices enter the room.

You turn to find Josh stepping into the room with Jake flanking him as they talk. Your breath instantly catches in your chest as you make eye contact with Jake through his tinted sunglasses. His hair is a little more wavy today, curling up at the ends and resting just below his shoulders. It looks soft and you know it probably smells good as it flies through the air as he walks. His black button up is hanging loosely on his body, a sliver of his chest visible, but you tear your eyes away from him and turn back to your task. You’re at work.

“There she is! How’s it going, Y/N? Things goin’ your way this morning?” Josh asks, walking over towards you with a smile.

It strikes you as strange, his over friendly greeting, especially when you’d talked more to Jake than to him and Jake hadn’t even said hello to you today. You shake off the feeling and return the sentiment, turning to face the both of them.

“Hi guys! Everything is good I think! Just getting all of this set up for you, sorry it took me so long. I was struggling with the German labels,” you smile, letting your eyes flick over to Jake. He’s standing quietly behind Josh, not saying much but listening intently, eyes locked in on you.

“Oh, no you’re fine, no rush at all. We’ve got hours until we go on,” he pauses, turning to Jake then back to you. “I heard about the little incident at the bar last night. Glad everything turned out okay for you, but just wanted you to know we’ve got some more security coming this week. Should have someone that can head out with you from now on,” Josh finishes, nodding his head. His phone starts to ring before you can respond and he quickly pulls it from his pocket, glancing down at the screen with a sly smile.

“Ahh, it’s Ty, I gotta take this. I’ll be back. Thanks for this, Y/N. Looks great!” he says, swiping a water bottle from the table and making his way out of the room as he answers the call.

You realize quickly that Jake did not follow him and is standing with his hands in his pockets eyeing the table behind you. Your mouth feels dry, any words you thought you would say suddenly stuck in your throat. You turn around and busy your hands trying to think of anything you can say that won’t sound stupid.

Your heart is pounding rapidly as you feel him moving towards you, taking the place next to you as he taps his fingers across the wooden table. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he is struggling in the same way you are. The tension between you is almost tangible.

You reach into the paper bag, pulling the box of beers from the bottom and setting them on the table. You knew this had to be his request, the rider stating that a case of local craft beer was required.

You push the box in front of him, looking at him as it slides across the table. “This was what was recommended for local beer. Was the best I could find, I didn’t know if you liked light beer or dark beer, so I guessed. The cashier couldn’t have been a day over nineteen, so I didn’t exactly trust his opinion, but–”

You watch his face shift into a smile, a dimple popping out on his cheek as he nods through a laugh, “This looks great, really.”

“Again, I couldn’t read anything in German, and the translator was really no help on this one,” you smile, feeling the tension between you starting to melt away.

He opens the box, pulling out the amber colored bottle and bringing it close to his face. He looks at it for a few seconds, attempting to read the label himself before finally shrugging his shoulders. “No clue what that says, but looks perfect. Thank you, Y/N.”

You feel yourself blushing at the sound of your name leaving his lips, and you hope he can’t see the heat spreading across your cheeks. He picks up the bottle and places the lid on the edge of the table, hitting it with his fist with just enough pressure to pop off the lid. It skitters across the table as he brings the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull of what you now see is a light beer.

“S’perfect,” he says, swallowing it down.. “You uh, you wanna try it?”

You feel a flash of panic wash over you. You can’t, right?

“I don’t think I can? Right? I’m at work. And I have like a thousand things to do,” you stammer, dying to say yes.

“S’just me, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he offers, peering at you above the frames of his sunglasses. You can see his brown eyes staring into yours, and you feel your insides melting into putty. You know you need to change the subject, and quick.

You quickly decide to decline the beer, knowing that you need every single ounce of clearheadedness for the evening you are about to endure. “Are you guys done already? That seemed… quick,” you pose, trying to turn your attention back to your duties to fill the awkward silence.

“Uh no, not quite, they’re just working with Josh right now,” he answers, stuffing his free hand in his pocket and taking another swig of his beer.

“Ah,” you reply, slotting a strand of hair behind your ear as the awkwardness continues to grow. You know he’s just being nice, but you wished to god he would just go somewhere else to save you both the anxiety of acknowledging the elephant in the room. Alright. Get it together, Y/N. You’re both adults, just speak your piece and get it over with. You take a quick breath, preparing yourself. “So, what version of the story did Josh get?”

Jake nearly spits out his beer as your words hit him. “What? What story?” he asks, wiping the dribble of beer off his chin.

“I know you told him about last night, he’s being so overly nice to me it almost seems fake. He’s buttering me up, isn’t he?” you say, a bit of bite in your tone. Truly, you wonder exactly what Jake told him, and if it was the same story you remember.

Jake sucks his teeth as he looks away from you. “A very condensed one. Don’t worry.” His words are blunt and pointed.

“Okay… so he doesn’t know about… ya know…” you dance around the word, you don’t even dare even say it.

“No,” he cuts you off. “No. I didn’t go into that much detail. It… it didn’t even matter anyway, right?”

…It didn’t matter?

It didn’t matter. Oh.

“Right. No. Didn’t matter at all,” you agree, feeling the knife turning in your chest. “We had to do what we had to do to get out of there.”

“Yeah, was nothing.”

Nothing?

It’s quiet and awkward again as you try to brush off your feelings, suppressing the memory of the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your waist, his body pressing up against yours…

You’ve kissed a lot of people in your life, and you’re mature enough to know the difference between when someone wants to kiss you, and when someone just…is kissing you. And though you hate to admit it to yourself, Jake wanted to kiss you. There was no doubt about it. Chemistry is tangible. And the tension that formed between you last night during those few short seconds was nothing short of it. Pure chemistry. Ease. Like it was natural. And you weren’t too dumb to realize it.

But… apparently he was.

Suddenly you hear the sound of the bass strumming out into the air, signaling that it was time to get things going again.

“Right. But uh, sounds like I gotta um, get back out there. So… thanks for um, thanks for the beers,” Jake backpedals and turns away toward the door as you return to your duties, busying your mind and hands again. Fuck, that couldn’t have gone any worse.

You watch as he slams his body into the metal exit door, but stopping short when it doesn’t budge. He pushes on it again, but it stands firm. You watch him struggle for just a few seconds before you decide to help him out.

“Pull, Jake,” you say, stifling a laugh.

He yanks on the handle, the door flying open before him. “Oh, yeah. Got it.”

You can see the pink rise to his cheeks as he makes his quick exit, and the laugh you were stifling finally busts through. You’d managed to get Jake Kiszka flustered.

The sounds of the whole band echo down the hall, and you know you have a few free minutes to yourself, without the risk of one of them barging in again. Your mind drifts into autopilot as you finish setting up, replaying the last few minutes over and over in your head.

1. Josh knows. Well, Josh knows something.

2. The kiss… apparently it didn’t mean anything to Jake. Just a careless action to get the weird man off your back. Of course it didn’t mean anything to him. He’s a famous rock star, he probably kisses girls all the time… right? And makes playlists for them. And adds his favorite songs to them just so they can listen along. And tells them that he fully intends to kiss them again. Right?

3. He was flustered leaving through that door just now. He fumbled. He blushed. People that don’t care don’t blush. That’s just basic science.

Everything is overwhelming your thoughts; you need assistance, and you need it now. You take one last look at the table in front of you, deciding that it is to your liking before dashing out the door to the back exit. You pull your phone from your pocket and bring up Ruth’s contact, hearing it ring out just a couple of times before her voice is yelling your name on the other end.

“Shit, about time! I’ve been fucking dying over here!” she shouts into your ear, her voice full of excitement and rush. “I’ve been scrolling their instagrams and TikToks and shit all. Fucking. Day, Y/N. When were you gonna tell me they’re all hot as fuck, huh? And they’re brothers?! Like real life brothers, except the one, right? But they were kids when they met?! Why is that so cute? Imagine having that much talent in one household. Shit, in one town! I bet their parents were exhausted like, always. And their MUSIC… hello? The guitarist is mindblowing, dude. And you kissed that man? On the lips?! Like full on contact, right? Was there tongue? Did he get into it? Where were you? I need to know all of these things in massive detail stat, bitch.” Ruth is absolutely rambling, and you know if you don’t cut her off soon, you will never get a chance to speak at all.

“Yes, Ruthie, I kissed the hot guitarist,” you confirm quietly, glancing around to be sure you’re alone. “No, not really any tongue. We were in a restaurant, and the vibe was kinda strange, so. It didn’t last long, but god, it was hot…” you trail off, reminiscing for just a second. You’re truly unable to get the feeling of his lips out of your head. “Yes, three brothers, two twins, one honorary brother that might as well be. I haven’t gotten a chance to truly get to know them all yet, so my details are skimpy. But listen, I’m trying to stay professional, okay–”

“Hun, if you’re lip-locking with that brown-eyed man on the first day you are wayyyyyyy past professional, I’m just saying,” she wails into a condescending laugh.

“No I’m fucking not!” you yell back, fully prepared to tell her exactly why it was warranted. “Listen, here’s what happened…” you do as she says, and go into grave detail about the events on the plane, and in the restaurant, and the sweet additions to the playlist when you got back to your hotel room. You spared no detail because if Ruth is good at anything, it’s collecting specifics and cataloging them away, only to one day effortlessly put them all together into one big beautiful puzzle laid out for you on a shining silver platter. She has a knack for thinking of things realistically rather than living in a fairy tale, and you’re thankful for it. She keeps your sometimes wandering thoughts in check.

“Shit, babe… what are you gonna do?” her voice was calmed now that you’ve caught her up.

“I don’t know, everything is just… happening really fast.” The early evening breeze blows your hair, and you can hear the distant chatter of their fans lined up and camping just around the corner of the building. It’s almost showtime.

“I know what’s gonna happen,” Ruth states matter of factly. “He’s gonna add another song soon, you watch.”

“You think? He left things kind of… awkward just now, I really don’t think that he meant what he said last night, he was just caught up in–”

“Y/N, he wouldn’t say he fully intends to kiss you after you tell him to Do It Again… men lie but that seems… I dunno…” she goes on. “Just, don’t make me wait so long between now and the next thing, okay? I know you’re busy kicking ass but please keep me informed…” she begs.

“I will babe. I actually think it’s time for me to go. I promise I will text you tonight, okay?”

“I’ll be staring at my phone. Good luck,” she replies, and you end the call with a quiet goodbye.

—

You take special care wrapping the steaming hot tea bag around the spoon, squeezing out the water before tossing it in the trash. Your eyes scan the table for the Whiskey, pouring in a shot or so to mix with the honey at the bottom. Josh’s instructions were very clear and you have made sure to follow them exactly, not wanting to miss a single step. You stir up the boiling hot drink and push it to the side, ready to start on Danny’s. You grab the metal cup and add a scoop of ice, your eyes searching for the bottle of Tequila.

You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pour the tequila into the cup, topping it off with soda water. You pull your phone out as you wait for the fizz to subside, but the sight on the screen steals away your focus.

‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Oh my god Ruth was right.

You quickly swipe open the notification with shaking hands, waiting as the shitty venue wi-fi tries to load the playlist. Isn’t he getting dressed right now? Isn’t he busy? Why is he doing this?

It finally loads and you scroll to the bottom, laughing to yourself as you see the song he added two minutes ago, ‘Back In Black’ by AC/DC. You know the song well, but much like you did last night, you search your mind for what he is trying to say. You think on the lyrics, nothing really sticking out to you in regards to the situation the two of you have found yourself in, but you press play anyway, listening to the familiar and catchy intro. It has to mean something, right? You nod your head along with the song as you finish making everyone’s drinks, blushing to yourself as you realize that he was thinking about you.

Should you reply? Is there even a response to that? You don’t even really know what he is trying to say. You pick up your phone from the table and begin to search through your favorites, seeing if there is anything that could serve as a worthwhile reply but you’re quickly interrupted by the door being flung open and Paul grabbing your attention.

“Two minutes ‘til stage, guys are walking,” he says, and just like that he disappears again.

You shove your phone in your pocket and snatch up all the drinks, quickly following after him with your armful of drinks. Your heart starts to race, you can feel the adrenaline filling the building, the ground is rumbling with the sound of the intro music and the screams of anxious fans.

You position yourself at the base of the stairs, knowing they will grab their drinks from you as they make their way onto the stage. The chaos and commotion backstage is overwhelming, and you find yourself starting to pick up on the nervous, frazzled energy. Sam is the first to spot you with an eager grin, plucking the grapefruit Topo Chico from your hand as he scurries across the stage to place it on his amp. Daniel is not far behind him, drumsticks in hand as he approaches you with a shy smile.

“One of those for me?” he asks playfully, reaching for his metal cup.

“All yours! Have a good show!” you answer, watching him walk up the stairs and towards his kit.

The lights are starting to dim, the music growing louder as the time draws closer. You don’t see Josh, or Jake for that matter, and you find it a little strange that there was no drink request for Jake, but you chalk it up to him likely not having time to drink much during the show. Suddenly Josh appears from the hallway, a vision in white satin, looking almost ethereal. He is frantically putting in his in-ears, and reaching for his mic, eyes locking on you as you hold out his tea towards him.

“Ahh, excellent, thank you so much, let’s have a good show, yeah?” he smiles, squeezing your shoulder as he bounds up the stairs to place his drink on Danny’s platform. You’re so caught up in watching Josh float around the stage in a cloud of white chiffon and crystals that you don’t notice that Jake is walking towards you.

When you do turn around you find him only a few feet away, the stage lights catching the black beads of his suit coat, sparkling like onyx. The satin suit is fit to his body, leaving very little to the imagination. His jacket is open, his chest bare save for a few silver necklaces he seems to always be wearing. This is the most of him you’d seen at this point, and the definition of his chest and the lingering tan on his skin has you breaking out into a cold sweat. You swallow harshly as you see the eyeliner he has added to his waterline, and you feel yourself physically backing up to brace yourself on the stair rail behind you. Holy shit.

You find yourself wishing you had a drink for him, anything actually, just to have an excuse to talk to him. His guitar tech meets him as he walks, twisting the knob on his wireless receiver and handing Jake the vintage red Gibson. He tosses the strap over his shoulder, positioning it across his body and releasing his hair from beneath the strap. You watch him as he mouths a muffled ‘thank you’ to Johnny, giving him a grateful smile as he continues to walk.

The stage lights behind you have shifted, and the music is coming to a close. He has to be on stage in seconds but it’s as if he is on his own time, moving so effortlessly through the dimly lit wing. The lights hit him just right and his eyes meet yours in a smug grin. Suddenly the song makes sense. His suit is completely custom, hand beaded, all black satin. Fucking hell, the cockiness of this man.

You expect him to climb the stairs to meet his brothers, but instead he steps up to you, resting his hand on the body of his guitar. “Nothing for me?” he asks, arching a brow and flashing you a sideways smile.

“The– the list! There wasn’t anything on the list for you, I–”

The lights overhead are starting to flash, the crew calling for thirty seconds through the walkie-talkies. You glance around panicked that you clearly missed the memo on a drink for Jake. Fuck!

He smiles at you as he laughs, “I’m just kidding, I don’t put it on the list with theirs. I bring my own.”

“Well where is it?!” you ask, a hint of panic in your voice.

“Ah, I left it in the greenroom. Was a bit…busy with something else,” he says, trying to stifle a smile.

You can barely hear him, doing your best to read his lips over the shrill screaming coming from the crowd. He seems to sense this, leaning towards you and placing his hand on your shoulder. His lips brush against your ear as his fingertips press into your skin. You can feel his guitar pressed against your stomach, his fingers guarding the strings, “Do you know where my backpack is?” he asks, whispering into your ear.

You shake your head, and truth be told the proximity of this man’s mouth to your body has you unable to even remember your own name, let alone where his backpack is.

His fingers tap your shoulder as he holds it, pulling away his head just slightly to look at you. He licks his lips and leans back in, “It’s in the corner of the dressing room, by the couch. Go find it for me? My drink is in there.”

“Jake, stage left go,” the walkie calls out, and he pulls away again, giving you a smug smile.

You look at him, taking him in completely before he steps onto the stage. “Wait, Jake! Your in-ears! Where are your monitors?!” you shout in a panic.

He smiles and laughs as his hand squeezes your bicep, tilting his head down a little and letting his eyes peer into yours, “I don’t wear in-ears, baby.”

He pulls away quickly, sprinting up the steps, looking over his shoulder at you one last time before disappearing out of view. Baby? Did he just call you baby? Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath. You feel frozen in place, only spinning your body enough to watch the four of them take their places on the platform at the back of the stage. Jake is on the very end, running a hand through his hair, just as the music stops and the curtain falls in front of them. The crowd screams violently as Josh starts to speak, nodding to Jake to kick things off.

Danny jumps down off the platform and onto his kit, as Sam prances down the steps with his bass. The guitar sounds fill the venue as Jake starts to make his way down the shiny metallic steps. His eyes flick over to the side stage, catching yours for a moment as a smile lights up his face. You are in complete shock, surely this is not the man you kissed last night. The man that was stumbling over his words today, and pushing a pull door…?

His hand lifts from the guitar for just a second as he motions a signal for ‘drink’ to you as if he’s holding an invisible cup to his lips. You quickly snap out of it when you remember his instructions. You tear yourself away, making your way back to the green room in search of his backpack. The room is quiet when you enter, empty, not a soul in sight. You can hear the rumble of the bass in your chest as your eyes scan the room for the black leather backpack, finally spotting it behind the couch.

You walk over to it, crouching down in front of it and lifting the flap. You unzip the top finding it full to the brim. Your hands are shaking as you carefully sift through his things. His phone is on the very top of the pile, a black leather case with an embossed ‘JTK’ on the bottom right corner. Your heart flutters in your chest knowing that he adds the songs to your playlist from this very phone. You toss it aside, continuing to look through the bag, your fingers snagging on his tangled pile of headphones. You work quickly to untangle them, wrapping the cord around itself in a neat coil before dropping them back into the bag. Your hands find a change of clothes, a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt nestled under a pair of printed black boxers. Your breath catches as you realize what you’re touching but you try not to think too much of it. Find his drink.

Your hands feel around at the very bottom of the bag, finding dozens of guitar picks, a capo, a few hair ties, what feels like maybe his wallet, a glasses case, and a passport book. Your fingers land on something glass, and you pull it from the bag, but quickly find out it’s not what you’re looking for. This is a bottle of cologne, fairly expensive from the looks of it. You look around the room before pulling off the small silver cap, and breathing in the scent you remember from last night. Fuck it smells so good.

Put it away, Y/N.

You push everything over to the other side of the bag, finally spotting what you were looking for front and center. You grab the neck of the wine bottle, pulling out the entirely full bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Interesting choice for him, but you guess you don’t really know too much about him just yet.

You quickly zip up his bag and rush over to the drink table, grabbing the metal chalice and filling it to the brim with his white wine. It sloshes over the edge a bit as you rush back out to the stage, doing your very best not to spill it in its entirety before it even makes it to him.

You’re positively out of breath by the time you make it to the stairs, your hand dripping with the sticky wine as you watch Jake just stepping into a guitar solo. He walks across the front of the stage engaging with the crowd on the barricade, his fingers moving faster than lightning through a song you can honestly say you’ve never heard. You know you will get to know these songs very well over the next few months, and what better way to hear them than live.

You peek around the curtain as you watch him crouch down, standing quickly to throw his head back, the faint echo of his voice as he yells to his guitar drifting to the side stage. His body is covered in sweat and his hair sticks to his neck as he catches sight of you with his drink. You hear a few people talking behind you but you can’t seem to care, or rip your eyes away from him. He is a completely different person on stage than the man you sat next to on the plane, and even in the bar last night, and to be quite honest, you didn’t know which version of him you wanted more.

JAKE POV

The spotlight descends away from you as you finish out your solo, the crowd already going absolutely wild. It feels so good to be back here again, allowing yourself to get immersed in the feeling of the instrument in your hands and the effect it has on the people listening and watching. Sweat is already pouring from your face and chest, and you’re only three songs in. For a second, you’d completely forgotten that you’d sent Y/N on a mission for your drink.

You hope she’s finding it, given you had kind of hidden the backpack behind a couch to stay out of plain sight. In the back of your mind, you quickly picture her picking through the bag stuffed with your things, and you smirk when you realize she probably is seeing a bit more into your personal life than she had anticipated, tonight. But for some reason, you don’t feel embarrassed by it.

You back up toward your amps as Josh continues to sing, and you see her from the corner of your eye, standing side-stage with your chalice in hand. Oh, so she’s a good listener. Noted.

Now that you aren’t at the center of attention, you realize you are a bit thirsty. The four of you finish out the song and the lights go down, and you take the opportunity to run to her to grab your drink.

You haphazardly grab it as she hands it to you with utmost caution, handling it as if it were made of gold.

“Shit!” You can’t help but laugh out loud, noticing that the rather large cup is filled all the way to the brim with your wine. You take a big gulp down to empty it a little.

“Sorry, sorry careful, I didn’t know how much you wanted and I assumed you wouldn’t want refills!” she crams all her words together into one big sentence as you chuckle at her again. Damn, even in the dim lighting you can see how pretty she is. Your heart literally skips a beat as she finally meets your eyes.

“S’okay, this is perfect. Thank you…” you whisper as you place a quick hand onto her waist, backing yourself away from her. Should you have touched her there? Maybe not, but it just happened. You make your way back over to set the cup down safely in a place you know it won’t spill. You make quick eye contact with Danny as he waits for you to cue him in to the next one, but his look is laced with something else, curiosity. He definitely saw your encounter. And he knows that you normally don’t place your hand ever-so-gently on your runner’s waists. Fuck fuck fuck.

You return his prying eyes with an upturned chin, silently telling him to mind his own business. You finish out the show, feeling good again as you begin to show off just a little. You always show off, but for some reason, this time feels more important. You have someone to show off for.

You glance to the side stage again and see that Y/N is standing with Ty, Mia, and Lyla as they watch the show. That feels strange, you think to yourself, seeing her grouped together with all your brothers’ significant others, getting along and talking closely. Your stomach churns at the thought of actually liking it.

No, Jake. No. You know this isn’t right.

Twenty minutes later you find yourself waving goodbye to what was one hell of a crowd, and you join the other three as you descend the stairs to backstage. Your ears are ringing as you walk through the darkness toward the light of the hallway, realizing that she is the first person you see when you finally get there. She’s standing with Paul, listening to his instructions as she hands each of you a clean black towel. You’re last in line, and you grin a little as she tosses your towel to you instead of the gentle handoff she did for your brothers.

The tiniest smile crosses her face as she keeps intent eye contact with Paul, taking in all of his words when you know her mind is racing with thoughts of you. Her face blushes with pink as you pass her. That wasn’t unnoticed, babe.

You rush back to the green room to try and beat Danny to the shower, knowing that he is probably already stripped down and getting inside. When you find your prediction to be true, you decide to take off your jacket and kick back on the black leather couch to finish off your heavy-handed pour of wine.

“You guys wanna go to this bar I found?” Josh proposes.

“Bit dangerous right after a show, don’t you think?” Sam chimes as he hangs his satin jacket on the rolling rack.

“This one is like, 6 blocks away and kind of hidden. Probably won’t be anyone there, I did some research. Plus they have Fernet Branca. I need a few shots to keep this fuckin’ cold at bay,” Josh explains as Ty starts to help him remove the rhinestones from his face.

“Bleugh, I don’t see how you drink that nasty shit,” Sam says with disgust.

Josh scoffs at him. “Might be nasty, but it fucking works!”

You lean over the arm of the couch and retrieve your backpack, sifting through to find your clean change of clothes. You smile as you realize she more than likely saw your black boxers covered in flamingos. As you zip the bag back up, you notice your earbuds sitting at the bottom of the bag. They had been rolled into a perfect flat coil, with the wire tucked and tied into itself. Your heart sinks when you realize she had taken the time to sort them for you, probably remembering the mess of tangled wires on the plane.

Should you add a song?

No. You did already. Get it together. This woman has your mind running marathons.

But a bar as a distraction? Perfect.

“Yeah, let’s go check it out. I’m getting a shower,” you make the executive decision as you stand from the couch, slapping Danny’s towel-covered ass as you pass him on your way to the bathroom.

——

“Jake, you comin’ or what?” Sam asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Yeah, give me a sec,” you answer, pretending to fumble through your backpack. He nods and heads out the door with Lyla, leaving you alone in the greenroom.

You haven't seen Y/N since you came off the stage, panting, filled with adrenaline, and in desperate need of a towel. You showered quickly and changed into your clothes, hoping you wouldn’t miss her coming into the green room. You were going to ask her to join you at the bar, and you were hoping she would say yes. Though, you haven’t seen her, and now thirty minutes have passed and the van is leaving. You consider sending her a text, but remember there was no response to your last song. It had been your feeble attempt to lighten the tension from earlier in the day, so you figure you should let it be. Tonight was probably crazy for her, and you want her to ride the post show high as long as she can.

You throw your backpack over your shoulder and make the trek to the van, finding everyone rearing and ready to hit the bar. A drink does sound good, a stiff one. You slam the door shut and let out a sigh, feeling the van pull out of the gates and into traffic. You see a few fans lined up against the fence hoping to catch a peek at the four of you, so you all wave through the window praying they won’t follow you.

You kick yourself for being this caught up over a woman you met only yesterday. This was not supposed to happen. You wanted to clear your head, not screw it up even more. You took in a deep breath, letting it pass through your lips as the van rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of the bar. You couldn’t read the name of the bar, something foreign in burned out neon, but Josh seemed to know that you were at the right place. You all stepped out of the van, making your way into the decently crowded bar. You were thankful that no one seemed to notice you, the group of you making your way to the back of the bar and piling into a round wooden booth.

Josh volunteers to grab the first round, and you signal to him for your usual, not needing to say a word for him to understand. Lyla and Mia instantly strike up a conversation about the show, Sam and Daniel hanging on their every word. You listen to what they’re saying, pretending to be engaged in the conversation, but your mind wanders quickly. The exhaustion of your body is starting to set in, mixed with the already present jet lag, you feel yourself spiraling quickly. You know that drink will bring you back to life though, and you hope Josh hurries.

You wonder where Y/N is. What she is doing. What she thought of the show. If she felt that same electricity you did when you touched her. You quickly shake your head of the thoughts, returning to the present when Josh sets your drink down in front of you.

He and Ty slide in next to you as the rest of the group starts to sip on their own drinks. You straighten in your seat, trying to give everyone a little more space as Josh starts to speak.

“Hell of a kick off…”

“Yeah, no fuck ups either,” Sam adds, elbowing Danny.

“Jake? Notes?” Josh nods, waiting for you to add your two cents.

“Yeah, yeah I think it was a good show, need to keep that energy for the rest of the run. Think that transition from Heat Above to Highway could be a little tighter if we’re gonna keep that on the set, but–”

“You seemed especially talkative tonight, thought I was gonna have to turn my monitors up to drown out your screaming,” Josh jokes. You cut your eyes at him in annoyance. It’s not like you could help it.

“Only screaming to drown out the sound of your voice, brother,” you quip, taking a sip of your drink. Tequila soda, extra lime.

“Please, I think you were just having a little Jake moment because of a certain someo–”

“Fuck off, Josh, seriously,” you spit.

“Oh, who, the runner? Y/N?” Danny asks, turning to face you with a shit eating grin.

“Yep.” Josh answers, popping the ‘p’.

You send a threatening look to Josh, and he knows he needs to drop it. “I don’t know what you’re all on and on about. Can you just drop it? Christ.”

“You sure man? I saw that little exchange side stage. Looked more than friendly,” Danny adds, and of course you knew it was coming.

Lyla sends you a questioning look, and you quickly look away before she has time to examine things any further. Her gaze travels to Mia, the two of them looking at each other before turning back to you.

“Anyway, Daniel…you and Sam need to watch my cue for Highway, I’ll let Josh do his little spiel, he’ll signal me, and I’ll signal you. I don’t think anyone noticed tonight, but let's not do that again, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement as you toss back the rest of your drink in frustration. You motion for Josh and Ty to let you out, desperate to get out of this booth and get another drink. You make your way to the bar, standing amongst the other patrons waiting their turn. You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping to see something, anything from her, but it's empty, the same as it was ten minutes ago. Should you text her?

No. Stop thinking about her, fuck.

You order a new drink, a double this time, hoping it will help you clear your head of this woman. You weave through the crowd with your drink in hand as you make your way back to the table, however when it comes into sight you see none other than Paul, Wes and Y/N standing in front of it.

You take a large sip from your glass, clearing your throat and trying to regain your composure. You definitely weren’t expecting her to show up. A wave of nerves washes over you as you see her standing there, dark jeans and a black top, her hair hanging down her back in waves. Your eyes travel straight back to her ass, hugged so perfectly in her jeans you almost have to head to the bathroom to fix yourself. You drag your eyes back up towards the table, your chest growing warm as you watch her talk to Josh, secretly wishing it was you.

You approach the group, laying a hand on Paul's shoulder to get his attention. He turns to you and shakes your hand with a smile, followed by Wes. You slide into the booth next to Mia, setting your drink in front of you as Josh continues to talk to Y/N.

“Y/N, why don’t you hang with us? We’re more fun than these old guys,” Josh laughs, playfully slapping Paul’s arm.

She turns to look at Paul who is shrugging his shoulders and nodding, “Wouldn’t hurt to get to know these fools.”

You can see a look of hesitation on her face, her eyes flick to Josh and Sam, then to Daniel and finally to you. They linger for a second before she nods her head, agreeing to spend her evening with the group of you. She takes a seat next to Ty as he pushes Josh over to make room for her. You smile a little watching her get settled, pushing her hair behind her ear as she nervously peers up at you from across the table. The corner of your lip turns up as you look at her, and hers does the same. You know that all eyes are on you now, though, so you try to seem as casual as possible.

“You need a drink?” you ask, letting your eyes meet hers, almost sparkling in the bar lighting. So fucking pretty, fuck. You are so, so fucked.

She shrugs and nods, looking around at what everyone else is drinking as she bites her lips. “How about a Tito’s and Sprite, two limes?” she asks, almost as if nervous to say it.

You nod your head once, silently commending her for not ordering a fucking cranberry vodka.

“Got it, anyone else?” you ask, looking at the group as they shake their heads.

“I’ll be back,” you say, standing from the booth and making your way back to the bar you just came from. You don’t have to wait long this time, ordering her drink and making sure they don’t skip on the limes. You’re kind of glad you are the one getting her drink, giving you another minute or two to shake the nerves in your system that arose just from seeing her.

You glance over your shoulder towards the booth, watching as she talks animatedly with everyone at the table. You feel a little twinge of happiness as you look at her, seeing her fit in so effortlessly with the group. You grab the glass off the bartop and start to make your way back over to them, weaving through a thick crowd of people congregating in the middle of the bar.

You place her drink in front of her before taking your seat again, her cheeks blushed pink as she looks at you. “Just let me know how much and I can venmo whoever.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I got it,” you answer, giving her a tight lipped smile.

“I was just telling Y/N that I’m gonna have to fire Mia and hire her to start making me drinks from now on. Your wine glass was practically overflowing all night,” he laughs as Mia scoffs. He tosses his arm around her, kissing her cheek as he whispers in her ear.

“To be fair, I did drink it all,” you offer, tipping your head towards her. Her cheeks are red, and you can tell she’s a little embarrassed about the whole thing. She sips at her drink, swallowing down the bubbly alcohol. You can see her tension ease a little as she puts down the glass, her eyes meeting yours again. The moment is quickly zapped as Josh grabs her attention.

“You know, I did happen to look over and see you a few times. Seemed like you were enjoying the show,” Josh pauses, smiling at her, “Thought I was going to have to come pick your jaw up off the ground after The Archer.”

Her face blushes a deep red now, clearly embarrassed that Josh caught her in what she thought was a private moment. Part of you wants to jump over the table and choke him, but you don’t, just clearing your throat instead to warn him. Y/N sips her drink a little faster now through a laugh, clearly needing it to kick in a little quicker.

She was really watching you?

“Yeah, you were kinda on one tonight, weren’t you Jake?” Daniel adds, chewing the end of the straw in his drink. “They were crazy over on your side. You were givin’ it to ‘em.”

“S’that why you were showing out tonight? Trying to impress all your little fans?” Sam adds, quirking an eyebrow at you.

Josh scoffs a laugh and raises his eyebrows, looking over to Y/N, “Oh, I’m thinking it was someone else entirely, Sammy boy.”

Instinctively your foot connects with his leg as you kick him in an effort to shut him up. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, clearly uncomfortable and deeply embarrassed, on her first night no less. Her eyes start to flick around the table as everyone looks at her, before falling down to the table as she runs her finger around the rim of her glass.

“Don’t listen to them, Y/N,” Mia jumps in. “They spend 50% of their time bagging on each other and the other 50% trying to embarrass us.” Her act of heroism obviously makes Y/N feel a little more comfortable, and you realize that sometimes you and your brothers truly have no filters at all. “Just tell them to fuck off.” She adds a wave of her hand through the air, showing that she was used to it, now.

“Oh shit, heard about your little situation at the bar last night, Y/N. Heard there was some trouble,” Sam says, leaning into the table as the volume of the crowd starts to drown him out. “Glad Jake was able to come to your rescue.” God damnit, do they ever shut up?

“Oh yeah, Y/N you can always call Dean and tell him where you’re going so you don’t have to deal with Jake if you need something. I’m sure Dean is a lot more pleasant than Jake is at midnight, anyway,” Josh barks, sending another shooting wave of annoyance through your chest. Little did he know that you were perfectly fucking pleasant with her at midnight last night. More than pleasant, actually.

“I’ll remember that next time, Josh,” she replies, a little sound of defeat in her voice.

You know what Josh’s next move is going to be, he’s going to start prying her with questions of what exactly happened. He knows you gave him the condensed version, and knowing him, he’s bound and determined to get the truth out of one of you. So you decide to stop him before he starts.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal, I had just downed a drink before she texted, I hardly remember telling the guy to fuck off. We can just pretend the whole thing never even happened, right Y/N?” you propose, immediately regretting the words as soon as they slipped from your mouth. You didn’t want to pretend it never happened. You’ve relived it over and over and over since it did…

Her face falls a bit as she nods her head. “Yeah, no. Never even happened. I’ll…remember not to bother you next time. Knee-jerk reaction.” Her voice is a bit pointed as she tries to defend herself without being too bitchy about it. You watch as she bites the insides of her cheeks, probably wanting to lash out at all of you. She felt threatened by that guy, and she called for help. You feel like shit, she texted you because she was panicked, and was most familiar with you… hell, you’d just spent an entire day on the plane together. She probably doesn’t even have Dean’s number yet…shit. Your choice of words had bitten you in the ass yet again. You’ve definitely fucked up.

But the guys absolutely can not know that you kissed her…

The conversation thankfully takes a turn and you’re able to disassociate from it for a minute, watching as she struggles to stay involved, while also completely avoiding eye contact with you. Yeah, definitely fucked up.

She finishes the rest of her drink and slides out from the booth, excusing herself to the restroom. She flips her hair behind her shoulder and tosses her purse over it too, and you find yourself wishing that you could reach out and grab her hand to stop her. Her eyes stay fixed to the floor as she flits away into the crowd, completely disappearing from your view.

The minutes pass by as you flow in and out of the conversations, your subconscious reminding you every so often that she isn’t back yet. Your eyes repeatedly scan the crowd and over to Paul and Wes, and each time you find them still seated alone at the bar. Where did she really go?

You start to get anxious as you finally decide to say fuck it. You pull the tiny pointless straw from your drink, biting it between your teeth as you pull your phone from your pocket, bringing up her text thread.

You

12:29AM: Where did you go?

You chomp the straw nervously as you move it around in your mouth, feeling it poking and prodding against your gums. You watch your message turn to read, but no reply bubble pops up. You’re facing the door, and you haven’t seen a soul pass through it, so you know she hadn’t snuck out. Seven entire more minutes go by, and you realize she’s not going to respond. You need to make this right. You need to tell her last night meant more than nothing to you.

Suddenly you get the brazen idea to go ahead and add another song to the playlist, thinking that maybe since it worked last night…

You pull up your music app and hit the search box, already knowing exactly what song you are going to add. ‘Go Outside’ by The Cults. Perfect. Straight and to the point.

Josh continues to finish out a story you’d already heard twice today as your knee begins to bounce up and down with anticipation. Sure enough, a few minutes later, you get the notification that she, too, has added another song. Yes. Fucking finally.

‘Gone’ by JR JR magically appears at the bottom of the playlist, and you can’t stop the confused scowl that crosses your face. What the fuck? There’s no way she’s gone… You’ve been watching the door…

You decide to cut the shit, and text her. If anything, you’ll apologize for how everything had gone, and let her continue on with her night. You couldn’t go another second without letting her know how sorry you were that things had gone so awry. You pull up your text thread, seeing the urgent messages from last night still present on your screen.

You

12:42AM: I know you’re not gone, I’m facing the door. Meet me out back, please?

You don’t even stick around to wait for her reply as you lock your phone and slam it onto the table, standing from your seat to hurriedly head out to the back patio area. “I’ll be back, going for a smoke,” you announce, and thankfully, no one says they want to join you.

You make your way to the back door, pushing through the heavy metal and into the enclosed seating area. The cold breeze almost takes your breath away. You find that it is fairly big, but thankfully completely empty. The concrete slab is lined with old picnic tables and rickety bar stools that look like they’ve seen better days. You take a seat on top of one of the tables, sliding a blunt out of your front pocket and lighting it to life, letting the smoke fill your lungs and hopefully give you the courage to speak your mind freely.

Come on, Y/N, don’t let me down…

—

You look up from the cherried tip of the blunt, hearing a pair of boots making their way across the concrete. You look at her as she makes her way towards you, the wind blowing her hair across her face. The sleeves on her shirt are surely not thick enough to brave the cold air, and you find yourself smiling as you remember finding her in the same predicament on the plane. You blow out a ribbon of smoke from your lips just as she steps up to you, her face a little sullen and her cheeks still flushed. You didn’t know if she was going to come. You hoped she would, and now that she has, it’s time to fix things.

She crosses her arms across her chest, her hands rubbing her arms to ward off the cold. You place the blunt between your lips as you slide your corduroy over your arms and toss it around her. She doesn’t fight you this time, she accepts it, sticking her arms through the sleeves and pulling it tightly across her chest. Your heart beats a little faster seeing her wrapped in it as you pinch the blunt between your fingers.

“So you didn’t leave after all…” you say, turning to look at her. She doesn’t really answer you, just looks down at the glowing blunt in your hand. You can tell she wants to say something, but she’s not letting herself, and you want to know why.

“Why did you say that you did?” you ask, flicking the ash with your thumb.

She bites her lip as she turns out to look out into the distance. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out, turning back to look at you. “Because I was embarrassed. Those people in there? They are my bosses. You are my boss. Now, their first real impression of me is that I’m some helpless idiot that needs a man to rescue her. That I am some dim-witted awestruck groupie or something. I just– This is not the first impression I wanted to make, not with them, and definitely not with you.”

You immediately stop her, knowing that her fears are completely unwarranted. “No, no. None of that is true. None of us think that. I swear. They are just picking on you because they actually do like you. You heard Mia. You would know if they didn’t. I promise. You were amazing today, truly. You made a great first impression with them. And with me,” you offer, hoping it will ease her anxiety.

She nods a little, giving you a shy smile as you nod back at her hoping to bring her out of her shell a bit. “Did you like the show, at least? Ignore what Josh said, he’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah I did. Jake, you…” she pauses, shaking her head to try and articulate her thought, “You were like a completely different person up there, I–”

You swallow nervously, licking your lips, “Yeah that, kinda happens. I don’t know why or how, but something changes when I’m out there with my guitar. But, I promise it’s still normal me under all of it,” you respond, nudging her arm with your elbow, trying to get a smile out of her.

She smiles enough that you let it go, but you can tell that she’s still shaken from earlier, and you know it’s time to make your amends. “The stuff inside with the guys…That’s not what’s bothering you, is it…” you pause, meeting her eyes, “It’s what I said.”

She nods a little, shrugging her shoulders as if she’s nervous to admit it, and you feel a shock of guilt run through you. You blow out a stream of smoke into the air above you, reaching your hand out to softly touch her arm as she sits on the stool in front of you.

“It’s not true, what I said. I– didn’t mean that,” you confess, your voice a little lower and more sincere.

Her eyes flick up to yours, “Which thing? That it wasn’t a big deal or that you want to pretend it never happened?”

Fuck, you did say that earlier. You lean a little closer to her, letting your hand slide beneath her elbow and over her arm again, “Both. I actually haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you…about these…” you answer, bringing your hand up to cup her cheek, letting your thumb swipe over her bottom lip. “Not for a single second.”

Her lips are soft, a little wet. You can smell the vodka on her breath and goddamn if that doesn’t make you want her more for some reason. You want to taste her, but you need to devour her.

A smile crosses her lips, as she moves closer to you, “I was kinda wondering if you were going to make good on that text, or if it was just for show.”

You huff a laugh as you flick at the blunt again, “Well, as you saw, I do enjoy the show, but I keep my word. I meant what I said last night.”

Your eyes are dark and demanding as they look into hers. You feel her hand meet yours, plucking the blunt from your fingers and placing the tip between her pink lips, “So did I.”

She takes a long drag from the blunt, holding her breath and letting the tobacco and earth flavored smoke swirl through her lungs. She places it back in your mouth, blowing the stream of smoke over her shoulder as she leans onto the table with challenging eyes. You feel her fingertips barely tap on your lips as you take the blunt back, and the icy contact sets off an alarm in your mind to get her somewhere warm.

You hit the blunt one last time before dabbing it out on the tabletop, flicking the burnt-out paper to somewhere unknown. You stand quickly from the table, gripping her hand in yours as you pull her from the barstool. “C’mon,” you murmur, feeling the blood begin to rush through your body with anticipation. You begin leading her over to a door on the corner of the patio, again looking to see if anyone was around.

“Where are we going?” she breathes. You squeeze her hand, realizing that you’d already intertwined her fingers with yours, just as you had last night on the walk back to the hotel.

You pull the door open, letting the outside light barely illuminate the small bathroom. You do a quick check to make sure it isn’t trashed or occupied, and you pull her inside, shutting the door behind you. The small room is completely dark, devoid of any and all light at all, except for the tiniest sliver of ambient light coming from under the door. You stand with your hands still wrapped up in hers, and what felt like only inches away judging from the feeling of her breath hitting your lips.

“Wanna make good on my word…” you breathe, the sound of your heart racing in your ears.

“...In a bathroom, Jake? She giggles anxiously, but you know she doesn’t really mean it.

You let your hand follow the sound of her words, cupping her jaw again as you bring her into closer proximity. Your thumb brushes her lips again, and you can feel it trembling just a little. Or, maybe it's your hand shaking…the nerves rising up have you feeling light headed. There has never been another woman that makes you react like this. Ever.

“Did you have somewhere else in mind?” you ask, bringing your lip between your teeth as you hear her breath catch, and feel her head shake side to side.

You feel her tiptoe just a little bit, bringing her forehead to balance on yours. Your noses graze just barely, and her chest rests across yours, heaving steadily along with each breath the both of you take. Don’t fuck this up, Jake…

“No, this is perfect,” she whispers, her lips finally making the smallest contact with yours. You feel all of your nerves at attention, every hair on your body standing on end with anticipation for touching her; feeling just the bare minimum of her body was already sending your nervous system into overdrive. Your fingertips tighten on her cheek as you finally close the gap, feeling her plush lips pressing into yours for the second time in twenty four hours. She’s soft and inviting, the feeling of her just the same as it was last night, except now without the element of forced surprise. She feels natural and normal, like you’re meeting her again for the first time after a lifetime spent apart.

It’s like a dream, except the dream quickly turns into the most devious nightmare as she turns up the heat of the kiss. Her tongue presses gently into your mouth, and you’re allowed your first taste of her. Sweet and sour- her natural essence mixed with the limes that were in her drink… the smell of her perfume, the inability to see her face… it was all making your head spin and your vision blur.

The kiss is heated already, like she had been wanting it just as badly as you had. Your mouths crash onto one another's, her hands quickly finding your shoulder and waist as the smallest sound escapes her throat. She pulls you in toward her, her knee slipping in between your legs. Fuck, she feels good. You grasp her up in your arms, pulling her in more tightly as you begin pushing her backward toward the wall. You feel her gently bump into it, and you take the opportunity to move things in a bit more.

Swiftly, but with the utmost caution, you press her body into the wall, letting your lips trail just a little further from her mouth, down onto her jawline. “This okay?” you mutter, your lips now brushing right below her ear. You feel her body react, her muscles tensing up from your words.

You feel her head nod, “Yeah, yes. It’s… Keep–”

Her words stop short as you embrace her again, finding the kiss to have deepened even more since she gave you the go-ahead. Her hands slip up underneath your shirt, and you can feel the light scratch of her nails across your stomach. You swear you could come undone right then and there, but you hold back, taking a deep breath through your nose as you try to regain your composure. Hardly anything has even happened, and you’re already contemplating how you were going to best satisfy her tonight.

Your hands are begging to feel her skin, so you let them… your calloused fingertips creeping up under her tight black shirt just as hers had just done, her waist thick with soft muscle under the grip of your hands. You squeeze, committing the feeling of her in your grasp to the darkest parts of your memory. Fuck, you wish you could see her.

You part, stepping back just as you grip both of her hips in your hands, jerking her harshly into you. “Why did you say you left when you didn’t?” you ask, trying like hell to catch your breath.

“I was leaving…” she mumbles, pressing her center right back onto you. God, fuck. “I got a phone call.”

“From who?” you bite, your teeth clenched as you stop your eyes from rolling back in your head from the feel of her pressed against you.

“A friend.”

You huff an exasperated breath. “A friend who?”

She bucks her hips forward again, and the movement sends a surge of blood flow straight to your dick; you know for a fact she can tell how hard you are, now. “Do you really want me to answer that, or do you want to keep kissing me?”

You growl with aggravation, gripping her shoulders and pulling her away from the wall, up against the bathroom sink. You press your lips to hers again as her hands grip into your hair, pulling at the strands as you fight each other for dominance over the kiss. You can feel her fingers entangling themselves at the back of your neck as she pulls you in, unable to get you close enough.

She breaks away for a second, and you feel immediate sadness at the loss of contact. “To answer your first question, I said I left because... I wanted to see if you would follow me.”

“I would have,” you answer with no hesitation whatsoever.

“Why?”

You click your tongue, knowing that you aren’t in a position to go into detail about your unexpected, but not unwanted feelings for her. “I can’t answer that question at the moment, but when I can, I’ll let you know,” you explain, earning yourself a pissed-off laugh from her.

“Don’t scoff at me, little fledgling,” you tease, running your tongue up the side of her neck. She chills under your touch, playfully pushing your shoulders back.

You reach down, gripping the backs of her thighs as you lift her onto the marble countertop, pushing her knees apart to find your place between them again. You gently jerk her forward, letting her center meet up with yours at the most perfect height. The sound that escapes her is nothing short of the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard, and you part your lips, drinking her noises in and swallowing them down to live within you for as long as she’d let them.

You press yourself into her harder now, rolling your hips a bit as you start to lose all composure. Fuck, whenever this does finally happen, it’s gonna be good… Your hands are traveling all over her body that’s still covered in your heavy corduroy jacket, and you can feel the heat radiating from your bodies and warming up the otherwise chilled room. You want to feel her, you want to reach down and feel your clothed bodies touching one another, but you stop yourself. Instead, you grip your hands into her thighs, moving them higher and higher until they’re rested at the crease where her legs meet her ass. You want so much to keep going, keep wrapping your hands and digging your fingertips and exploring all that you could, but again, you slow your movements.

You gingerly stop your grip, instead trailing your hands lightly from her hips, up her sides and shoulders, back up to cup both of her cheeks in your hands, slowing the intense make-out into a soft subtle kiss.

“What’s wrong, Jake? Why–”

“Not here. Not like this…” you answer, and if you could see her, you swear you would have seen the same look of defeat as you’d seen earlier. Except this time, for a better reason than the first. You back away a little, feeling her body language fall.

“You’re right, you’re right,” she agrees, hopping down from the sink. “This… isn’t the best setup.”

You adjust yourself in your jeans as you laugh, “Oh, it’s the perfect setup. I just… ya know…”

“People are probably wondering how you made a smoke last this long,” she whispers.

You laugh again, taking her in a sincere embrace, letting her face bury into your chest. “Yeah, exactly.” You sway a couple of seconds as the both of you come down from the heavy session, and you can still feel her heart beating erratically as she presses against you. You lurch down and take her chin between your fingers, bringing your lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss.

“Been thinking about doing that every single second since last night,” you admit quietly.

She laughs shyly. “Can’t believe I just made out with my boss…”

“Hey, cut that boss shit. Paul is your boss. I’m your…”

“...Mmmmmyyy….”

“I’m the one that hired your boss. Get it straight,” you pick, feigning cockiness.

“Oh please…” she laughs, pushing you hard against the wall in the still blacked-out room.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say as you move toward the door to make your grand escape, with all intentions to go ahead and make the trek back to the hotel by yourselves. The two of you step out of the bathroom and back onto the patio, fixing your tousled hair and unkempt clothes. As you round the corner, you’re stopped dead in your tracks as you meet eyes with the last person you wanted to see out here.

Josh is leaned against the same picnic table that you’d extinguished your blunt on, legs crossed at the ankle as he hugs his arms on his chest. The smug fucking smile on his face was enough to turn your raging libido into straight nausea. He holds your phone into the air, shaking it side to side as the screen lights up.

“You left this on the table, it’s been blowing up. Thought you might wanna answer it after the…third consecutive call, but now I see that you were otherwise occupied…” he snaps, his tone anything but playful. You snatch it from his hand, glancing at the screen to see a string of missed calls and texts, but most notably of them all is a text from Y/N telling you she was on her away to meet you outside. Shit. Your eyes flick to Josh’s, and you can read his expression like a book. He raises his eyebrows as he bites a smile, as if he’s saying ‘caught ya’.

You feel Y/N still standing behind you, most likely also unable to move from her stance. You watch as Josh nods to her, then brings his fingers to his mouth, motioning that he’s locking his lips, and throwing away the key. He turns and slowly walks back inside the bar, not uttering another word.

You feel her hand on your back, “Why did he do that?” she asks, a crease between her brows.

Goddammit Josh.

“I don’t know,” you snap, your voice a little harsher than you intended. It's a lie though, you know exactly why he did it.

You turn around to face her, running your hands up and down over her arms to warm her up, “I don’t know what’s up with him tonight, maybe you should spare yourself. Head back early…”

She seems a little taken aback at your suggestion, stepping back a few steps. “Oh, um, yeah you’re right, I should– I should probably go. I have some... stuff I need to do anyway.”

You can feel the nervous energy flowing from her body as her legs continue to move backwards. You don’t want her to leave, but you see no way around it now.

“Be safe, call if you need us,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets.

She hesitates before turning away completely, almost as if she was waiting to see if you were planning to join her. You want to. You want to take her back to her room and finish what you started, but you can’t. You know Josh is waiting for you, counting each second until you step through that door.

She stops, turning back to you, “Oh, your jacket…”

“Keep it. I’ll get it later,” you say, lifting your hand and waving.

Her eyes meet yours again as she nods, a hint of sadness beneath them. Fuck fuck fuck.

You watch her walk back inside, disappearing through the door. You wait a minute or two before you make your way back inside, seeing Josh sitting in the booth alone. You mumble a curse under your breath as you slide into the booth across from him, drinking the water of the melted ice from your abandoned drink.

Josh is staring at you as he sips his drink, his eyes drifting over towards the bar where Ty and the rest of the group have gathered. He looks back to you as he sets his drink on the table and folds his hands together.

“So yeah, how’s that break going, Jacob? Pretty good it seems?” he pauses, shaking his head, “You really are getting your head straight or whatever the fuck it is you told her.”

You toss your head back in annoyance. This fucker thinks he knows everything.

“Listen to me,” you demand, your voice growing deep. “You need to stay the fuck out of it. I’m dealing with it. Do you hear me?”

He blows you off, scoffing under his breath.

“Do you hear me, Josh,” you growl.

He drags his eyes back to yours, dark and piercing, “Yeah, Jacob. I hear you. But answer me this, when was the last time you spoke to her?”

It feels like a punch in the gut as you answer, “None of your fucking business.”

“No, no, see it is kind of my business, seeing as how you’ve been–”

“No, you know what, I’m not doing this. I’m leaving, I’ll see you in the morning,” you spit, standing from the booth and grabbing your things.

“Don’t be that guy, Jake.”

You suck your teeth and nod at him with a fake smile as you turn to head toward the door.

Fucking prick, thinks he gets to call the shots in everyones life. Fuck him.

The walk to the hotel is short, the cold air cutting through you like a knife, but you’re glad she has your jacket. You know that when you get it back it will smell like her, and that alone makes this icy wind worth it.

Your mind drifts as you walk, your brain replaying the image of her in the bathroom. The way her lips felt, the way she tasted. The feeling of her skin in your hands. You have half a mind to run straight to her, pick up where you left off, but after the look on her face you aren’t sure you can.

Your phone starts to buzz in your pocket as you draw closer to the hotel, a persistent buzz indicating a phone call, not a text. You pull it from your pocket seeing the name on the Caller ID for what has to be the fourth time tonight. You curse as you slide your finger across the screen answering the call.

“Hello...”

“Hey baby, I didn’t think you were gonna pick up!” her familiar voice says.

“Wonder what could have possibly given you that idea,” you gripe in response.

“Sorry, I’m just missing you. Haven’t heard from you…” she whines.

“Yes, Isla. That is exactly the point of a break. To not hear from me,” you snap.

“But Jake, I thought you’d at least tell me you made it. I’ve been worried and you turned off your location and everything, I just miss you,” she continues, her voice suddenly grating on your nerves.

“Isla, Christ…What are you not getting?”

“Do you not miss me?” she asks, fishing for a reciprocated sentiment.

Your phone buzzes in your hand as you start to answer, pulling it away just enough to see the notification banner at the top.

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

Your heart lurches in your chest when you read it, and whatever Isla is saying turns into a hum of noise.

“Jake? Are you listening to me?” she asks, her tone annoyed.

“What? Yeah, I hear you. Look I uh, it’s late here. I just got back to the hotel. I’ll call you soon, okay?” you ask, trying to calm her enough to get off the phone.

“I know we’re on a break, Jake, but you know I still love you.”

“Yeah, yeah I know, hey I’m getting on the elevator, I’m about to lose you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

You hear her sigh, “Okay, bye babe.”

“Bye,” you say, hitting the red button and ending the call.

“Fuck me, FUCK me!” you shout, the elevator doors closing in front of you. You hit the nine button letting it carry you up to your floor. This has got to stop.

You immediately open the notification from Y/N, waiting for the playlist to load. You watch as the songs start to populate one by one, the last and most recent one finally loading as you step out of the elevator on your floor. Your heart drops as you read the name of the song you know all too well. ‘High and Dry’ by Radiohead.

Fucking hell. How many times are you going to screw it up with this girl?

You press play, letting the somber and melancholy tune play through the speakers as you fumble around for your hotel room key. The lyrics swirl through your ears as you realize that you did exactly what the song says. You left her high and dry in order to cover your own ass. You’ve given her a hundred reasons to never speak to you again, and you wouldn’t blame her if she did.

You make the walk down the hallway, spotting your room, but stopping short when your eyes land on her hotel room door just a few steps away. You know she is just behind that door, probably in bed, wondering what she did wrong. Fuck.

Your mind flashes back to last night, when you wanted to kiss her again, standing at that very door. But tonight, you did. You kissed her again and fuck if it wasn’t even better than the first time. You had every intention of taking her back here tonight. Every single intention of doing whatever she asked of you. In the matter of twenty-four hours she had you completely wrapped around her finger. You’d give her anything she wanted. You want her, badly, but you just can’t seem to stop fucking it up. And now that Josh knows, you know that it will only be a matter of time before everyone knows.

You bite your lips together as you pull your room key from your pocket, looking at the shiny white plastic in your hand as your heart pounds in your chest. Your eyes flick to your door for just a moment then back to her door only a few measly steps away. The song ends as you look down at the phone in your hand.

Should you reply? Should you go to her? Should you let it be?

You know what you want to do, and you know what you should do.

But the real question is what will you do?

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