#fic: ripe

[hier--soir]

ripe

pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: a night out with old friends helps you and joel realise what’s been missing in your relationship. warnings/tags: pre-outbreak, set in the early 2000s, early thirties joel my lover boyy, bisexual reader, established relationship, that one shit stirring friend, brief alcohol consumption and piv sex at the onset, brief masturbation [m] in the bath, a little ass eating and fingering, a little spitting, pegging, dirty talk, praise, dildo is described as "your cock" multiple times, reach around hand job you will always be famous, they talk each other through it, the word hole is used 11 times but it feels like 100, also they're in love okay bye. word count: 5.3k masterlist a/n: this is being posted as a part of the PMAMC organised by @wannab-urs ! if you wanna read more glorious pegging fics for pp characters, a masterlist of everything being posted this week will be shared by gin soon! <3 x much thanks to @bageldaddy for holding my dick while i wrote this, for the edit, and for reminding me that where there is gape, there must also be affection x

Oil Can Harry’s is dark and loud; packed enough that condensation drips off the walls around you and makes the hair at the base of your neck frizz.

Packed into a sweaty booth, Joel’s flannel amidst all the glitter and hairspray and fruity cocktails of the drag night makes you grin. Your oldest friends fawn over him, endeared by the way he talks, the way he stands, the way he looks at you.

He smiles, warm and sheepish as they regale him with stories from years ago. Blushes when they remind him that he’s the first cock in a long line of cunts. Squeezes your knee beneath the table when they assert that he must be doing something right to have been kept around this long.

He settles in fast, lips slick and eyes glazed. Stops flustering while ordering Wet Pussys and Cock Sucking Cowboys, but still raises an eyebrow when a friend asks you, isn’t there anything you miss about it?

About what?

Dating women.

You roll your eyes, the sharp tang of vodka beneath your tongue as you shake your head. No.

S’not all that different, Joel offers up, smiling easily. Right?

So you tell him, No, and then, I mean, it is. But good different.  

But your cheeks have gone hot, eyes downcast as you sip a pink drink and try not to think about what exactly you miss. But Joel, fingers firm on your thigh, knows. He always knows.

So later when you’re in his bed, thighs pressed flush to your chest and he’s sinking inside your wet heat, it’s clear he isn’t letting up that easily.��

“You jealous?” he hums, elated and almost taunting, revelling in the way you sound as he fucks you. “Miss being the one fuckin’ someone this good?”

“Oh fuck off,” you whine, breathlessly embarrassed, gripping his shoulder and rutting your hips up against his, chasing the high that’s already tingling in your stomach.

“Naw, I want you to tell me.” He leans in, all ears for the dirty confession waiting to spill from your lips, loving it. “You miss your cock, baby?”

His hips press deeper, and the confession leaves your lips in a gasp. “Yes, fuck, okay yes I miss it.”

“Mm, you gonna show me it sometime?”

You feel your face go slack, stomach tightening at the thought, and Joel pushes further, harder.  

“Yeah baby, that’s what you want,” he goads, reaching between your bodies to press his fingers to your clit. “Want to fuck me, yeah? Bend me over and show me how much you miss it?”

You come with blood rushing in your ears and your hand gripping his ass, mind a blur of images of you being the one fucking him.

The next morning, sorely hungover and still tangled in his bedsheets, he asks if you were serious.

“Serious about what?” you ask, throat hoarse, eyes still closed.

His hand slips down your back to grip the flesh of your ass, the tip of his middle finger pressing dangerously close to your asshole until your eyelids crack open and you look at him. Brain ticking over, catching up slowly, eyes widening when you understand his train of thought.

When you don’t respond, head pounding and heart racing, he says, “If that’s what you want I’d—”

But caught up in the moment, in your own bashfulness, you interrupt him. Face warm at the idea of him having to placate you the morning after a drunken confession, you kiss him and say, “Don’t worry about it, okay?”  

Joel goes a little quiet, but kisses you back with fervour. Sucks your lower lip into his mouth and rolls on top of you, not letting you get out of bed until well into the afternoon.

It’s not until a month later that it all finally becomes clear. 

The house is oddly quiet when you get home.

Your living room is lit up by lamps across the space, but the television is off, and the couch cushions look undisturbed.

“Joel?” you call softly, stepping into the kitchen, pausing in confusion when you don’t find him there either.

You drop your purse on the counter and rifle through it for your phone, pulling up your text thread with him to reread his messages from a few hours ago.

You staying out late?

Not tonight, AJ has work early tomorrow. I should be home by 9. Meet me there? x

Perfect. See you at 9 x

The clock on your microwave reads 9:24 but you can’t hear a peep from anywhere in the house. Not a creaking floorboard or a shower running or even a snoring boyfriend.

“Babe, are you here?”

Nothing seems amiss at all until you reach the bathroom and find the door slightly ajar, light spilling out into the hallway as soft little sounds float out to your ears. Quiet murmurs punctuated by water lapping against porcelain.

“Joel?” You crack a knuckle against the door, careful not to nudge it open without his permission. “You okay?”

A rough inhale sounds behind the door and you pause, heartrate spiking a little. But then his voice calls through the wood, a little stilted as he says, “You can come in.”

Joel Miller hardly fits in your bathtub. All the times he’d joked about trying to squeeze in there with you, or when he’d come over with a sore back but insisted on a shower instead. But seeing him now, torso submerged in the water, muscled legs propped up against the wall with his hand resting between his thighs… you certainly aren’t complaining to see your broad boyfriend cramped up in your bath, touching himself.

“Hello there,” you murmur, bending to press a kiss to his sweaty temple. The tips of his curls are damp, frizzing around his ears as he smiles up at you. “Indulging yourself tonight I see.”

“You got no idea,” he replies, chin tilting upward as he stares you square in the face.

You smile at his flushed cheeks, at the muscle in his bicep flexing as he touches himself. Your gaze follows the veins in his arm, the flick of his wrist, but when you look into the water you pause. His cock is a rich red colour, hard and throbbing where it rests, neglected against his stomach. His thick fingers disappear past his balls, curling slowly out of your sight.

“Joel,” you exhale, face warming as you watch, slowly understanding. “Are you…?”

A harsh stream of air bursts from his nostrils as he meets your eyes, cheeks burning hotter by the second.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he admits gruffly. “Not since that night at the bar.”

“Fuck,” you shake your head, frowning a little. “I thought you were just… Joel, I’m sorry I brushed you off that night—”

“Naw,” he tuts quickly, brushing the apology away with a jerk of his chin. “I should’ve said.”

There’s a brief silence, your brain racing to catch up, a slow smile slipping across your face.

“Read that a bath helps,” he says then, gaze heavy. “Soft and loose the website said.”

And whatever you’d been about to say, whatever thought was bubbling in your mind, slips away in an instant.

In its place, just a bone deep, aching love for this man. It’s clear in his eyes; tenderness, and care swirling in his stare. Endless brown, struck with adoration, clearly saying, I want to do this for you, with you.

Throat tight, you lower onto your knees beside the tub. “S’it feel good?”

A breath rattles through his chest, and he nods again.

You lean closer, craning your neck to try and see better. Find yourself wanting to catch the exact way he presses his fingers inside himself. How he curls them, massaging inside himself. But he notices and pulls his hand away, gripping his cock instead and grunting.

“Looked through your stuff.”

“Hmm?” You meet his eye again, mouth dry.

“The drawer in your closet,” he exhales, eyelids fluttering as he strokes himself. “Found your… I don’t know.”

“My what?”   

“The harness,” he grunts out, fist tightening around his cock. The tip rests out of the water, flushed an angry mauve colour, little beads of pearly come oozing from his slit. “All the… I don’t know what the fuck you call ‘em. You know what I mean, alright?”

“Joel.” You laugh a little, endeared by how bashful he can be, even as he touches himself in front of you. “Don’t get shy on me now, baby.”

“M’not.”

“No?” You smile, voice low and breathy now, liquid heat sparking in your veins the longer the idea percolates through your mind. “So you want me to fuck you?”

“You know I do.”

“You’re gonna let me put my cock in you, stretch you out just right for me, the way I let you do to me every night?”

“Fuck.” Joel’s eyes pinch shut, fist tightening around his cock.

You reach in and yank out the plug, watching as water begins to spin and gurgle, and Joel grips the edges to pull himself up. The water drips off him in thick beads, pouring from his fingertips, down the centre of his chest, keeping the curls at the base of his cock tight and dark. 

He’s over the lip of the tub in a second, crowding you against the sink with a thick arm on either side of you, wet chest darkening the fabric of your blouse, mouth slotting against mouth. Steam warmed lips smother yours, tongue snaking out to press inside your mouth, and he swallows down every little moan and gasp of excitement you feed into his kiss. His cock is warm against your stomach and his hips stutter back every time you grind the buckle of your belt against him, grinning into his mouth.

“Gonna make it good for me?” He grips your face in both hands. Tilts your chin up and smears nasty kisses over your jaw, down your neck to the collar of your shirt, skin smarting where his teeth snap at it. “Take care of me the way I do for you?”

“You know I will,” you pant, eyelids fluttering as he sucks at hollow of your throat. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”

Joel releases a wrecked, gravelly moan against your skin and then he’s gripping your arm, nudging you forward, past the threshold and into your dimly lit bedroom. The closet is open, third drawer down hanging limply out from the chest. Inside you can see that things have been shifted around, looked at. And on your bed, there’s a dildo. Heat rises in your chest as you stare at it. Thick and long and red, with a curved tip and raised silicone decorating shaft to give the illusion of veins.

Joel drapes an arm around your waist, holding you back against his bare chest. The thick weight of his cock presses against the base of your spine and you sigh, grinding back into him.

“Remembered you sayin’ it was your favourite.” He nips at your neck, inhaling as his nose presses into your hair. Your chest swells at that, and you turn your head, let your lips find his in a soft kiss.

That hand on your waist drifts down until his palm is cupping your sex through your pants, fingers pressing firmly over the inseam there. You sigh into his mouth, hand falling overtop his to keep it in place.

“It is my favourite,” you murmur into the kiss. “But we’re gonna start much smaller tonight, hmm?”

Joel makes a vague noise in the back of his throat, dark eyes searching yours.

“Don’t think I can handle it?”

“You’d be cruisin’ for a bruisin’, baby.”

Somehow, he blushes deeper than before, and clears his throat.

 “Alright.”  

He watches on as you dip a hand into the drawer. You gravitate to glass. Thick rose quartz with a gorgeous, rounded base. But you push it away, knowing it won’t work with your harness. You trace the length of a pretty mauve cock, ribbed for your pleasure—or his—with preternaturally large balls. Still too long. Everything too long, too thick, too much. But then you see it. Pale blue silicone, nestled beneath silk rope ties and a set of handcuffs you guys hadn’t used in in a while. You shift things away and pick it up.

Soft and smooth; it’s maybe 6 inches long with a little curve towards the end, and it’s oh so pretty in your hand. You grab a bottle of lube and turn to put them on the bed, smiling at the way his dark eyes focus on the items. So curious, so filled with desire, with eagerness to please, to let you do this to him, for him, with him. The trust on his face warms your chest and sets your heart racing.

Joel lands softly on the mattress as you reach back in. Fingers meet leather and soon enough he’s watching as you peel your pants down your legs, your underwear. Undoing the buttons on your blouse as he strokes his cock, pupils dilated, mouth hanging open. Only when you’re bare do you slip your legs into the harness, sighing as black leather tickles against your skin on the way up, and situate it around your hips. Only a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, watching him see you like this for the first time.

Pulling and twisting straps until it’s perfectly snug, you crawl up the bed to straddle his hips. His skin is warm and wet against yours, and his hands fall to your hips in seconds, wide eyes admiring the contraption fixed to your waist. He toys with the straps, eyeing the little silver fasteners, and then glides a finger around the inside circumference of the o-ring, breathing a little deeper now.

“S’nice,” he compliments, looking back up at your face. “You’re… you…”

“What?”

He shakes his head, as if in disbelief. “You’re gorgeous.”

You stare down at him for a moment; the hard set of his jaw, the strong line of his nose. Lean in and kiss him, softly this time. Whisper, so are you, against his lips and smile when he laughs.

Tapping his side, you get off and urge him to turn over. “Let me show you.”

His broad body twists, falling to land on his front with his legs bent, weight balanced on his knees and forearms. You trail featherlight fingers over his thick shoulder blades, down the strong line of his spine. Touch the little dimples at the small of his back, and then lean down to kiss them. Slowly, one and then the other. You feel his breath hitch a little and smile against his skin, landing on your knees between his calves and letting your hands fall over the muscled cheeks of his ass. Squeezing, kneading the flesh there with tender hands, and then pushing them apart, baring him to you.

“Oh,” you breathe quietly, eyes trained on the dark hair on his skin, the tight little hole between his cheeks. “So pretty, Joel.”

You sigh into the crease of his ass, fingers digging into the firm flesh of his cheeks as your tongue flicks out to glide over his hole. Still wet from the bath, he tastes like soap and warmth and Joel. His body goes tense for a second, back muscles flexing as he adjusts to the new sensation.

“Y’ain’t gotta do that—”

“I want to.”

You kiss the base of his spine again. Give him a moment to tell you he doesn’t want it, or he doesn’t like it. But seconds pass, and he stays silent, so you grin and lean down.  Eyes closed now, you lick him again; soft little strokes of your tongue from his balls to his tight hole until his body goes soft and lax and he’s exhaling little sighs into the pillows.

“Fuck,” he says. “So this is what I’ve been missin’, hmm?”

You hum against him, the corner of your mouth ticking up into a little smile as you prod your tongue against his rim, urging him to relax more so you can press deeper. As he opens up for you, you squeeze his hips gratefully, fingers soft and kind against his skin.

“So good for me,” he continues breathlessly, almost babbling now, stream of consciousness pouring from his lips in between sharp gasps and low grunts. “Got the prettiest little mouth, I wish I could see it baby—fuuuck—that’s it, good girl.”

Your fingers flutter a steady rhythm over the skin of his thighs. Caressing the dark hairs there, the twitching muscles, humming when he shivers beneath your touch. The harness digs into the flesh at the inside of your thighs, at your hips, and you almost moan at the familiar bite of it. Relish in the way it pinches at your skin when you bend and raise your ass in the air, working him open around your tongue.

With your nose pressed against his skin, you lathe messy kisses against his hole. Feel the way it clenches beneath your tongue and whine, inhaling the natural musk of him as you go. Your mind a blur with soft skin and rough hair and tight tight tight around your tongue.

Drunk on the taste of him, you let your hand drift from his thigh around his waist. Float across his stomach, forefinger dragging over his belly button, his happy trail, down down until your fingers glide over the slick head of his cock. Joel jumps a little, hypersensitive, and exhales a rough moan as your fingers wrap around his length and slowly begin to stroke. With the steady movement of your hand his asshole begins to pulse beneath your tongue and so you pull back to watch it. Admire the way it flutters and clenches. Quick, so fast your mind can hardly process it, you’re collecting saliva in your mouth and letting it drool past your lips, wet and messy as it pools over his asshole. Joel’s cock throbs in your hand and he groans. You think he even arches his back a little, his entire body pleading for you to just put your mouth back on him. But you take a second; watch your slick spit turn his skin shiny and grin, raising hand to suck your fingers into your mouth and then press your middle finger against him.

The tip of your finger presses forward, working to relax that tight ring of muscle, and he exhales heavily.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” you tell him, voice thick with want as you pull your eyes off his ass to meet his stare.

“Then quit playin’ around and fuck me.” He presses back against you and groans when your finger slips inside his ass.

“Hey,” you warn, curling it slowly inside him. So warm and tight, unforgiving at first as you try to stroke at his insides. “Slow, okay?”

“Just want to feel you.” It’s clear on his face too. Pupils dilated, vulnerability splashed across his features with nowhere to hide.

“You will,” you soothe, pulling your hand back only to work a second finger inside. Kiss his skin again. “Let me take care of you.”

He doesn’t voice any complaints after that. Too busy with his face pressed against the pillows, drooling and grunting as you stretch him out around your fingers, his tight hole clamped down around the digits. You don’t touch his cock again, too worried he’ll come before you can really give him your all, but he gives pitiful little ruts toward the mattress. Soon enough his movements become so needy, so often, that, with a pang in your chest, you figure it must be painful. You almost ask how long he was touching himself before you came home, but then he’s interrupting the thought, reaching back to grip your wrist, wide eyes pleading with you from over his shoulder.

“Alright, love,” you murmur, pulling your fingers back and nodding. “I think you’re ready.”

Resting back on your heels, you grab the dildo and work it into the ring on your harness. Checking once, twice, to make sure it’s stable, before opening the bottle of lube. You squirt some onto your fingers, some directly onto the tip of the cock, and begin working it over the length, admiring the way it turns shiny beneath your touch.

“S’a pretty cock baby,” Joel admires, cheeks flushed. He watches you over his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you stroke silicone, lube warming between your palm and the shaft.

“You like it?” He nods and your chest warms with pride at the way his eyes darken, gaze darting continuously from your face to the piece between your legs. “Well, you’re gonna love how it feels.”

A fresh pump of lube onto your fingers and you’re shifting forward, on your knees again, lathering it onto his hole, smiling at the squelch as you pump your fingers inside him and push it in.

And then, soon enough, pale blue meets dark pink. Prods and presses, soft at first, and then firmer as he relaxes for you. Lube rolls down the shaft in rivulets, pooling against puckered skin, drooling lower to coat his balls, and a low sound rumbles from Joel’s chest. When you pause, his chin ticks to the side and he peers past his shoulder to look at you.

“You good?” he asks.

“Mhm. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Joel shivers when your hand lands at the base of his spine, thumb resting in the cleft of his ass, right above where you’ve started to press the tip inside him. The skin beside his eyes tightens, and he nudges his hips back into you, almost imperceptibly. You shiver at the sight, a sharp flush of arousal sparking between your thighs as you admire the plump shape of his ass. Like a ripe piece of fruit, begging to be split open.  

Joel chuckles knowingly; can see it in your eyes, the way your mouth hangs open. “Come on now. I know you’re dying for it, baby.” 

You grip his hip to keep him steady, cock notched against his opening, and continue pressing forward. Just gentle rolls of your hips at first, making sure everything is wet enough, checking in every now and then. But once the rounded tip pushes inside, Joel starts to squirm. His skin is flushed a deep red, beads of sweat rolling down his back, and you stroke his skin to soothe him.

“Joel?”

“Need you inside me.” His voice cracks a little on the last word,

“Shit, okay,” you exhale, fingers tightening on his waist. Your eyes leave the side of his face, locked on where your cock is steadily disappearing into him, and you press forward, bottoming out in one fell swoop. Leather meets his skin and the sounds he makes are none you’ve ever heard before. Deep, rumbling groans that come from the base of his stomach and force their way out of his throat. Tanned fingers grapple with your bedsheets, searching for an anchor as you drag your hips back and little and then feed your cock into him again.

You curse under your breath, unable to look away from how his hole gapes around the silicone, opening up for your every thrust.

“So fucking tight,” you whisper, awed as he ruts his ass back against you. Your fingers dig into his flesh, holding him open so you don’t miss a thing. “You look so good this, baby.”

Words are lost to him though, only able to form incoherent grunts and mumbles of your name as you deliver steady, deep strokes into his ass. It’s a slick glide now, almost no resistance left as you pump your cock into him.

“Talk to me,” you urge, sweat dribbling down your temples and smearing across your neck. “Wanna know how it feels.”

“Feels—” Joel chokes out, voice a thin, broken rasp. “A lot.”

“Yeah?”

“So fuckin full,” he says. “God, you’re so good, feels—fuck, feels so good.”

You moan a little, eyes glazing over as you pick up the pace, fucking him harder, hand between his shoulder blades as you press him flat against the mattress. And those rough noises he makes only urge you on, encouraging you to press a foot into the mattress at his side and push a little deeper until he’s gasping, thighs spasming below you.

“Shit,” you whimper, face screwing up as you watch his hand drift beneath his stomach. “I knew it, knew you’d love this.”  

You tug on his hips, pulling him back onto his knees so you can force his hand away and replace it with your own. Slick fingers wrap around his cock, the two of you cursing in unison at the way he pulses against your warm palm.

“Turn over for me.” Your fingers prod at the soft flesh around his hip as you pull out. You stare at the way his hole gapes open for a second, fluttering around the empty space where your cock has just been, and feel your cunt clench in response. “Please, I want to see your face.”

He lets you guide him, careful hands on his arms, his waist, until he lands on his back. A little unsure, his thighs fall apart so you can rest between them, and you give him a reassuring nod.

“That’s perfect,” you say, rubbing his thighs as you tilt them open wider, caressing his balls as you line yourself up with him again. “Doing so good for me, you’re perfect.”

And when you make contact, slipping in easily now, his stiff cock jolts and he lets out a ragged moan, reaching out for you.

Joel’s heavy hand lands on the base of your stomach, fingers twitching against the harness there.

“Wanna touch you,” he says, eyebrows pinched with need.

“I know, I know,” you murmur under your breath, smiling down at him. “Just let me take care of you, I wanna make you come like this, okay? Need to see it.”  

In response he just tucks his fingers around the top of the harness, holding on as you fuck into him, hot and heavy. Long, strong strokes that have his cock twitching against his stomach, pre-come dribbling from his tip as he just fucking takes and takes and takes.

“Keep talkin’ to me,” he pleads.

“You’re taking it so well,” you say, watching him keen under your praise. The skin on his chest glows with sweat and you lean forward to kiss his sternum. In response his fingers card through your hair, holding you to him as you mould your hips against his over and over.

“I love you.” You kiss the words into his skin, mouth falling open when he groans and starts raising his hips to meet yours, thrust for thrust. “So good for me, I love you, baby.”

“I love you,” he repeats, dazed and out of it when you pull back to look at his face again. You can tell he’s close; can see it in the twitch of his fingers, the shake of his thighs. “Shit.”  

And so you grip his knee with one hand and his cock with the other, pressing him open wider and stroking his length in time with your thrust. His eyes sharpen and he cries out. A harsh, high noise that makes your stomach tighten and your hair stand on end. And then he’s panting, telling you, fuck, right there, right fucking there, keep goin’.

His chest heaves below you, soft stomach moving fast and hard as you hold his knee to the side, griding your cock against that perfect little spot. Joel’s jaw pulls taut, veins thrumming in his neck as he holds his breath, seemingly fighting against the intensity of the feeling.

Your back aches, muscles on fire, but you push through, desperate to see the look on his face when he comes like this for the first time. And Joel must sense your determination, that burning need inside of you, because he locks eyes with you and nods.

“That’s it, baby,” he tells you. “Fuck me like I fuck you, that’s—shit, that’s perfect.”

Spurred on, your fingers tighten around the base of his cock and you slow your pace to a steady grind, rubbing the tip against where you know it feels best. He tells you as much, with the way his breathing starts to stutter and his nods become slow, lazy drags of his head.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, eyelids fluttering half closed. “Gonna…. fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”

You watch the muscles in his abdomen pull tight, feel his hand land on your waist, propelling you forward to keep fucking him as his high creeps up and up inside of him, until you say let go, I’ve got you, come for me, and it all falls apart.

Thick white spurts from his ruddy tip, slicking your knuckles and painting your tits in pearly streaks that drip down your stomach. Joel’s groaning, teeth bared as his eyes loll back. The veins in his neck deep blue and pulsing, face a dark crimson as he shakes beneath you. Some of his come even lands on his own chest, and you moan at the sight, still fucking into him, trying to prolong it for as long as possible. He bats your hand away, fingers tangling tight and desperate around yours, and you watch in awe as come continues to dribble from his untouched cock. Streams of white that roll down his shaft, past his taut balls to where you’ve still got him stuffed to the brim.

“Ohh,” you murmur in delight, admiring the way his come looks on your cock, streaks of white on blue as you fuck him. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you look so good right now.”

It all gets a bit too much for him after that. Fingers squeezing at your thighs, mouth twisted up as he murmurs, that’s it, baby, that’s all I got, and you ease yourself out of him, despite knowing you could probably keep milking him for all he’s worth and he’d just moan and take it because he loves you.

Instead, you watch as Joel’s legs go limp against the mattress, hovering over him, trailing your fingers softly against his hairy calves, catching your breath.

“Holy shit,” he rasps, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. You laugh quietly and press a little kiss against his knee.

A sticky mix of come and lube dribbles from the tip of the cock, dotting against his skin, and you apologise softly, fingers coming up to start removing the harness. He just smiles, body spent but eyes soft and loving as he watches you fret. Rapt beneath the weight of his gaze, you pause, cheeks aching as you smile down at him.

“Good?” you ask hopefully.

“Great.”

Pride sweeps through you and your smile only grows as you finally remove the harness, peeling it from your legs and nudging it away. You reach for his hand and he grips it between both of his, bringing it up to his mouth to lay soft kisses against your palm, the tips of your fingers.

“I love you,” you tell him again, and the feeling swims in your guts and burns the inside of your chest. It’s all you can think as he presses your hand to his cheek and nuzzles against it – that this is all you could ever hope to have and to keep. This beautiful, loving man who you want to make feel this good for the rest of your lives. He repeats the words against your skin, drowsy and earnest, and you know he must be feeling the exact same way.

“Don’t move. Let me get you some water,” you whisper, shifting to get off the bed, but he catches your wrist as you pull back, shaking his head lazily. 

“Don’t go far,” Joel murmurs. “Just gotta catch my breath, alright? And then I’m gonna make you come so hard you’ll be seein’ stars.”

thank you for reading! x

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin - (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Unwelcome Advances, Kissing.

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

You absentmindedly swirl the skinny black straw around in your glass, scoffing to yourself as you wonder why the bartender put a stirrer into your Whiskey in the first place. It didn’t need to be stirred. You took it straight. It was fine on its own. Regardless, you sipped around the straw, letting the oaky liquor trickle down the back of your throat.

It wasn’t that you hated flying. It was more that you hated being alone with your thoughts for extended periods of time. Only your phone or a book to occupy your brain, but you knew that only worked for so long. Eventually you’d be left alone to tumble down into those dark, dusty memories that would torment you until you touched down in whatever city you were slated to be in that day. 

You hear Josh’s voice, instinctively causing you to turn your head, watching as he and Daniel stand in front of the camera recording whatever video the social media team planned for the day. You gracefully bowed out of that process all together, the team knowing not to approach you about an idea unless they knew it was something you would agree to. Usually though, it wasn’t. You turn to look at Sam on your right, seeing his gaze fixed upon the two of them. Both of you were now watching them as they played along with the skit, a huff of secondhand embarrassment sizzling through you as you sip from your glass. You’d never be caught dead doing that.

Fools. How is anyone ever supposed to take us seriously if all we show them is this? 

“You ready for another few months of this shit?” you mumble, your lips barely parting from the edge of your glass. 

Sam snickers as he turns back to you. “No. But that’s the job isn’t it?” he answers, swallowing down a gulp of beer, turning to look at you.

“I’m hitting that wall, too.” you answer, meeting the eyes of his girlfriend, Lyla. She sends you a sympathetic look as she squeezes Sam’s arm, giving him the little bit of reassurance he needs. “S’been a shit few weeks.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, instead pursing his lips together and slowly nodding his head as he peers down into his empty glass. Everyone knows better than to indulge you in your misery at this point, vowing not to pick at the festering wound. It’s still fresh and you’re still too volatile.

“Well, we’re going to your happy place, right?” Lyla asks with a hopeful smile. 

“Yeah, yeah we are,” you answer, taking another long pull of Whiskey. It was clear she didn’t know the reason it made you happy in the first place was because of the memories you made there with the person no longer around.

You turn your head ready to fall into those memories you’ve been pushing away for weeks, but fate has other plans as you spot your production team walking towards the boarding gate. They look frantic as they talk to each other, their eyes flicking up and down from their phones in their hands. Paul, your band Manager leads the group, finally slipping his phone into his pocket as he spots the gate. Next to him is Corrine, the Production Manager talking on the phone, balancing it between her ear and shoulder as she follows Paul. Wes, the Tour Manager continues to talk to Paul as they step into the waiting area, but behind him is someone you don’t recognize. 

She’s looking down at her phone, unaware that Wes has come to an abrupt stop in front of her. She runs into him just enough that it gets his attention, a profuse apology falling from her mouth. You laugh a little at the exchange, wondering who this girl is, and why she is with your team. She’s dressed like the rest of them, casual, but still comfortable for a day of travel. A slouchy white long sleeve shirt, a little too thin for the cold January weather, a brown leather backpack, worn and well loved, and a pair of olive green pants that hug her ass just a little too well for 10AM on a Thursday morning. You find yourself unable to pull your eyes away from her, a magnetizing feeling sucking you in the longer you look at her. She laughs with Wes, a bright smile lighting up her face causing an unwelcome twinge in your chest. It’s when she fully turns though, allowing you to see her whole face through the curtain of tousled waves, that you find yourself needing to know who she is. 

You swallow nervously, licking your bottom lip as you turn to Sam. “Who uh, who’s that?” you ask, nodding towards the group. “With Paul, Wes, and Corri?”

Sam turns around in his barstool, looking across the busy walkway to the group standing at the gate. “Oh, um…” he pauses, assessing the situation. “She’s with Paul, so that must be our new runner.”

“What happened to Lucy?” you ask, letting your eyes drift back to the mystery girl. 

“She got engaged and moved to Scotland or some shit, I don’t remember. Ask Josh,” he laughs. 

You hum, trying to remember the email thread where Paul’s new assistant was approved. What was her name…

“You know her name?” Lyla asks, looking at Sam.

Yes, Lyla. Yes. 

“Um, I think it’s….Y/N. Yeah, yeah, Y/N,” he answers confidently, snapping his fingers as he speaks. 

“So she’s the new Lucy…” you hum, flipping your sunglasses down over your eyes. 

“Guess so. We’ll see if she can hack it,” he laughs, sliding his card to the bartender. 

You turn back to look at her, this time your eyes concealed. She is rocking back and forth on her feet, looking around as she hugs her arms across her chest. She seems nervous, pushing her hair behind her ears every few minutes. You’re positively taken by her, unable to peel your eyes away from her every move. You can’t help but study her, and you briefly wonder if it's the alcohol rushing through your brain that has you so focused on her.

The gate agents’ voice blaring through the intercom system snaps you from your thoughts, announcing that your flight was ready to begin boarding. You look to Sam, who is signing the check, and nod your head in silent agreement that you should head over. You toss back the rest of your Whiskey, letting out a sigh as it warms your chest. You grab your black leather backpack and sling it over your shoulders, straightening out your shirt before following Sam across the walkway to the gate. With your glasses still down, you step into the waiting area, watching people line up around you. 

Josh, Ty, Mia, and Daniel appear behind you, startling you a bit as you fumble around in your pocket for your boarding pass. Their conversation is loud and grating, but you tune them out. You check your seat assignment as you move forward in the line, repeating it in your head over and over so you don’t forget it. You try not to pay attention to the pretty mystery girl five people ahead of you, but you just can’t seem to take your eyes off of her. You watch her disappear down the jet bridge as she talks to Paul, and before you can even register it, it’s your turn and the gate agent is scanning your ticket. She sends you on your way with a smile, and as you make the long walk to the plane you wonder if the girl in the green pants is going to make this tour just a little bit more interesting. 

—

HER POV

3E. 3E. 3E.

Your eyes scan the row of numbers at the top of the cabin, finally catching sight of your assigned seat. You slide into the aisle seat, tossing your backpack to the floor as you let out a sigh of relief. You made it in one piece. You weren’t late, and everyone seemed to like you so far. 

You take a look around you, admiring the plush seats and ample legroom. You’d never flown first class before. You felt a little out of place as you looked at the people around you. Thankfully it was filled with team members you knew, and the band members and their partners, but still you knew you didn’t belong up here. You kicked your bag beneath the seat in front of you, pulling your shirt sleeves over your hands before reaching up to adjust the air vents that were blowing far too hard. A small shiver left your body as you spun the vents closed, sitting back comfortably in your seat as you waited to see who your seat partner would be. 

Your phone buzzed on your lap, a text from your best friend lighting up your screen. 

Ruth

10:57am: How many hours is the flight again?

You smile as you quickly text back, running the numbers in your head.

You

10:58am: I don’t know, like 7 or 8 hours? You’ll be fine. Read a book or something. I’ll text you when I get there. But it will be late…or early? I think? There is a big time difference.

Ruth

10:59am: Ok, be careful.

You lock your phone and shove it under your leg, your eyes darting to the aisle as more people pass you on their way to their seats. You couldn’t believe your first leg of tour with them was taking you across Europe, allowing you to see places you’d only dreamed about. It wasn’t the job you were worried about, you could do that in your sleep. It was the uncertainty of being in another country with people you didn’t really know. 

Getting to know the bands you worked for was a precarious thing. Always walking the thin line between friend and employee. You knew your place though, and you knew where that boundary lied. Your eyes refocus as someone stops in front of you, dropping their hands. As you look up you see Jake, one of the band members staring back at you.

“I’m…right there,” he says, gently pointing to the seat next to you. 

“Oh, right here?” you ask, genuinely curious how you were seated next to a band member and not with a crew member.

“3F? That’s what this says…” he asks, checking his boarding pass. You nod and stand, letting him slide into the seat. He drops his leather backpack to the ground with a thud, letting out a sigh of relief, much in the same way you had. 

You resettle in your own seat, buckling your seatbelt and pulling it tight across your lap. Your heart is still pounding as you try to calm your nerves, suddenly feeling put on the spot next to your boss. Or– your boss's boss. Shit.

You realize that you know practically nothing about this band, about its members, and really even much of their music beyond their hits. You planned to spend most of this flight acquainting yourself with them, learning their likes and dislikes before making a fool out of yourself in front of them in the green room. You don’t know if you should speak to him, and truthfully you’re a little hesitant since that day at the office, catching him and Josh in an argument. 

You didn’t even know they would be there as you went in to sign your paperwork, but to your surprise they were, standing in the middle of the office playing around on instruments and talking. You made a beeline straight for the management office, mostly unseen, and quickly signed your paperwork. Paul went over some of the timelines and the things you would be responsible for as you took detailed notes on your phone, not wanting to miss a single thing. 

Though, all of that came to a screeching halt as the sound of a chair skidding forcefully across the concrete floors pulled you both from your conversation. From your seat you watched through the small office door as two men moved towards each other, while two more intervened to break up whatever was about to happen. 

You then learned from Paul that the two people that were arguing were the twins, Jake and Josh, and that the other two were their younger brother Sam, and their honorary brother Daniel. You observed in shock as the two of them shouted profanities at each other from either side of the piano, both red faced and worked up over something. 

Paul quickly walked you out the front door with an apology and a laugh, and that was the last you saw of the band and its members, until today.

Out of the corner of your eye, you try to get a good look at him without him noticing. First impressions have always been a big deal to you, and since your first impression of him was nothing short of off-putting, you decide to try again. Give him the benefit of the doubt. 

Worn-in black pants, cuffed at the ankle, a wrinkled beige button up that only conceals half his torso, a thick dark navy overcoat, and a stack of heavy silver necklaces. Oh, and blue-tinted sunglasses. His cologne… now that will be sticking around in your mind for a while. Clean, woodsy, a hint of musk but still kind of sweet.

You hear him clear his throat as he fidgets with his things, putting them all in their places as he finally settles into his seat. He reaches down into his black leather bag that appears to be well-loved, and pulls out a set of wired earbuds. They’re tangled and bunched, and you can’t help but smirk as you watch him try to untangle them. His fingers pull through the twisted white wires, and before you can offer your help, he reluctantly tosses them back down on top of his unzipped bag. “Fuck it,” you hear him mumble under his breath. He huffs again and leans back, tapping his fingers anxiously on his arm rests. 

You let yourself drift back into your own thought as the plane takes off, going over the hundreds of miniscule things you know you’ll have to accomplish as soon as the plane lands. It’s quiet in first class, something you aren't used to with flying on the regular. The peacefulness that comes along with the drone of the plane and the light conversation between everyone is almost enough to help you relax a little, if not for the damned cool air still blowing through the vent above you. 

You shiver a little, cuffing your hands over the ends of your shirt to pull it in more closely to your body. Why you had chosen to forgo a heavier jacket in the middle of winter, you truly don’t know. You decide to distract yourself a little, pulling up the string of endless emails that lie in waiting on your phone, getting a nice head-start on your duties before you have to hit the ground running. 

Jake has been sitting beside you quietly for about an hour now, alternating scrolling his phone every few minutes and looking out his window. The cloud cover is heavy, so being able to see even a glimpse of the ocean below you is a lost cause. You listen as he sighs, crossing one of his legs over the other and folding his hands in his lap. 

Should you strike up conversation? No, he probably doesn’t care to speak to you. But is it rude not to? You’ve already been sitting here for over an hour…

Just as you decide to open your mouth to speak, the plane hits turbulence. The cabin shakes and rumbles, and you can feel your stomach fall. Your hands grip the arm rests with white knuckles as the plane passes through, your eyes gripping shut as tightly as your palms on the arm rests. 

Finally, after what feels like forever the plane evens out again, and you hear the pilot come over the intercom to apologize. You finally let the breath you were holding free from your lungs, and you open your eyes to see Jake with his head leaned low in front of you. 

“You okay?” he asks, an eyebrow cocked. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just…don’t really enjoy this part much.” you admit, running your sweaty palms over your pants. 

He sits back in his seat once he notices your calmness return. “Me neither, to be honest. No matter how many times you hit turbulence on a plane, you never get used to it. I don’t care what people say.” he says with a sweet smile. You can tell that he was coming down from an anxious episode just the same as you. 

“No joke…” you agree, suddenly wanting a drink even if it was before noon. You push the tiny hairs away from your face as you regain a hold on your bearings, picking up right where you had left off before the turbulent air sent you into a spiral of doom. “I–I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself before, my name’s–”

“Y/N.” he cut in, extending the tips of his fingers out to offer you a friendly handshake. 

You let your hand slowly come up to meet his, suddenly uncaring that it was probably still clammy. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” 

For the five seconds your bodies connect, and the even shorter few seconds that his honey brown eyes meet yours, you feel like you were worried for nothing. This guy is nice. Maybe he’ll be easier to talk to than you thought…

His hand disconnects and flies to his chest. “I’m Jake.”

You nod. Of course you already know his name. “Yeah, um…guitar. Right?”

He smiles harder this time. “Yup. That’s my forte, at least. Have you um, ever been to Europe?” He brushes his hand over his nose a few times as his eyes dart back and forth from the seat behind you and back to your face, unable to hold eye contact. Is he nervous?

You turn your body a little more toward him. “No, actually. This is my first time. But I hear good things…”

“Oh shit, you’re gonna love it. Especially this time of year. Things move pretty fast when we get there, but we always try to explore as much as possible. See some sights.” You can tell that he’s truly excited about this excursion, and to be completely honest, you found yourself wanting to hang on his every word. 

“Anything in particular?” you press, wanting to hear the gritty rich sound of his voice again. 

You let him talk on and on about the places he wants to see, and the places that they had already been, even bringing up a few older photos on his phone as he describes their past trips. You try not to look as he scrolls, but his camera roll is full of tons of scenic photos and videos, landscapes, mountains, waterfronts… and of course a few rogue photos of guitars and guitar parts. You wonder if he’s planning to make little vlogs. 

“Italy is my favorite, I think. So much history there. I could’ve stayed for six months if they’d have let me.” Your shoulders are pressed up against each others’ now as you watch his thumb glide over the multitude of media, speeding through the less important ones to get to his favorites. Strange of him to trust a stranger this much to watch him scroll his personal camera roll. He obviously doesn’t have much to hide, even if this is crossing that boundary line…

“The people are great, the food is great, the wine, oh god, don’t get me started on the wine…” he chuckles, and you feel yourself bumping your shoulder against his a little as you laugh along with him. “The terroir is fuckin’ phenomenal, obviously. It’s like a different world.”

“I like a moscato every now and then.” You add, trying to throw in your two cents on your crumbs of wine knowledge. 

He returns with a scrunched nose. “Hmm, a bit sweet for my taste…So, Y/N. What’s your story, how’d you end up with us?” he asks, switching to cross his other leg over, now. 

You swallow, unsure of how to explain years’ worth of ups and downs you’d gone through to a rockstar. Your boss. You decide to keep it short and sweet, he didn’t need to know everything. 

“Well, I spent my entire youth attending a small private school and private high school, so I came up quite the determined and disciplined kid. Kinda sheltered.” You turn again in your seat, tucking one leg up underneath you. “But, I ended up moving away from home and away from family, been in this business for almost, eh, six years now?” You go on, and he listens intently. “Guess you could say I’m a pro at making things happen out of thin air.” You give him a long wink as you snap your fingers together. 

His eyebrows shoot up, and he finally gives you a hundred-watt smile. My god, he’s…

“A-ha, so you got all the good hookups, huh?” He asks, running his fingers over his chin as his cheeks turn the palest shade of pink. 

“S’what the runner does, isn’t it?” You pull your eyes back down to your lap. “Get you everything you need, right when you need it?” 

You bring your eyes back up to his and watch as he swallows hard, his mouth hanging open for just a split second before he catches himself. “Yeah, ehm, I suppose it is. We’re not too bossy, though. Josh can be, but.”

“So I’ve heard, he’s kind of a…diva?” You hadn’t done too much research on them, honestly. You hadn’t had the time. But, what few tiktoks and musics videos you had managed to see were fairly telling of their personalities. 

“He is. He is.” Jake laughs. “Don't let him fool you, though. He’s a big softie with an attitude problem. We all kind of are, honestly.”

“You’re a softie?” You press with a teasing tone. “From the few videos I’ve seen of you playing guitar, you look a little intimidating…” 

“Me? Intimidating?” He clicks his tongue. “Don’t believe everything you see on the internet, Y/N. It’s dangerous…” he growls the last word, and you can feel your insides ripping themselves apart just at the sound of his voice. You have to pull back, now. 

“All the runners we’ve ever had did extensive research on us before they came on tour, did you not do that?” he inquires, throwing you off a bit. 

You don’t really know how to answer, so you tell the truth. “Honestly Jake, no, I didn’t. I’ve toured with a few other bands in my career, and I did that. I researched them, learned all things I thought I needed to know so I didn’t go in blind. And, this time around, I did a little bit, but I kind of wanted to meet you all for myself. Get my own versions of you.” 

“Hm.” He responds with an understanding nod. “Well, you’ll be the first.” 

“Speaking of,” you go on, candidly glancing around the cabin and deciding to go ahead and ask the question that’s been nagging you. “Everyone else is seated with someone, wonder why I’m not with the rest of the team.” 

“What, you don’t wanna sit by me, Y/N?” he asks with a shred of a grin. 

“No no, it’s not that.” you laugh. “Just—“

“Normally I have someone with me, but…we’ve recently…gone our separate ways, I suppose.” He trips over the words a little, stammering through them like it was the first time he’d admitted it. 

“Oh… I see.” you pause, “That’s…never an easy thing.” 

I wonder if that was why he was so snippy that day at the office when you saw him fall off his rocker? 

“Eh, s’alright. Win some, lose some. We had a good run.” He says as he waves off the question. “So, you say you’ve been doing this awhile, you must really miss whoever you’re leaving at home.” 

Skating around the question, aren’t you, Jake?

“No, I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.” You bite your lip as he doesn’t stop you from elaborating further. “I’m pretty independent, I like structure and uniformity. Growing up I wasn’t allowed much time on my own to have hobbies outside of school and practice. Strict parents. The job has kept me pretty adhered to that mindset, even in my personal life, so.” 

His eyes flick to yours and he squints them a little, as if he’s collecting every single one of your words and hanging them in a closet in his mind. He’s trying his best to figure you out, you can see it on his face. But why? He shouldn’t care…you don’t matter. 

“I can respect that.” He nods again. “My brothers and I, we grew up in a fairly religious household. Was great, don’t get me wrong. Really formed our roots but, as we got older and started to see the world, we kinda got away from it. Began to start seeing things in a different perspective.” He sucks his teeth, as if he’s recounting a hard memory. “Kinda why we moved to Nashville. We knew we had to break away if we wanted the band to be successful.”

You nod in understanding. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”

His laugh fills the cabin as it bounces off the walls, a sweet chuckle that makes your heart rate pick up. You could listen to him laugh all day long. 

“S’pose it did.”

“The fuck are you two over here laughing at, huh?” Suddenly Josh’s curls are squished between your seats, his cheeks pinched together as he speaks. “I’m trying to get some shut-eye but I can’t from all the babbling—”

Jake places his hand over entirety of his twin’s face, pressing him through and back into his own seat. “None of your business, fuck off.”

You laugh at their antics, knowing in the back of your mind that you had better get used to it. You feel the air kick on again, fiercely blowing the freezing cold air directly onto you. You shiver a little, balling yourself up and pulling your sleeves closely in toward you again. 

“You want my jacket?” Jake asks, already starting to pull it from his shoulders. 

“No! No no no, thank you, but I’m fine, really.” The last thing you need is that right off that bat. A bad look. Day one. Nope. 

“Seriously, I run naturally hot. Take it.” He replies. 

“Oh yeah? Hence all your layers?” You tease, repositioning in your seat. 

“It’s a fashion statement, thank you very much.” He bites. “All about comfort for me.”

Gotta change the subject. 

“So tell me something I should know about your brothers. Something that would give me brownie points if I wanted to say…impress them with my craft service skills…” you press, giving him a new challenge. 

“Wow um, let’s see…” he brings his fingers to his chin and thinks hard, and you can’t help but feel endeared by the fact that he truly wants to help you out. “Josh stays away from chocolate and dairy and sweets and all that, but his guilty pleasure is those cotton candy flavored grapes. Weird, I know.”

“Oh my god, those are so nasty!” you laugh, but still take note. 

“Danny would be over the moon if you surprised him with salsa verde Doritos, and Sam drinks kombucha more than the normal human should.” he finishes with a stern nod.

“Got it. I think I can make most of that happen, aside from the grapes…” 

“He would kiss you right on the lips, I’m telling you.” Jake giggles again, and you notice how he lights up when he talks about them. 

“So Josh is the dramatic softie, what about the other two?” you ask. 

“Sam’s kinda serious but he’s playful when he wants to be. Sneaky, too. Daniel’s always into something, always busy. Man doesn’t like to sit still,” he concludes, and you commit it all. 

“And what about you?” you ask, feeling your stomach flip for some reason. 

“I thought you said you wanted to get your own versions of us,” he quipped back, parroting your words from earlier. Damn, you had said that.

You toss your hair behind your shoulder. “I did but…You’ll tell me all about them, but not about yourself?”

He crunches his lips together as his eyes scan your face. It makes you a little uncomfortable, how hard he’s really looking at you, but you let him. Stopping him would be a sin you weren’t ready to commit just yet. 

“That’s right.”

The two of you drift off into silence again as the minutes tick by, thankfully not being embarrassingly interrupted by Josh anymore. You decide that you want to listen to some music, so you reach into the pocket of your bag and pull out your AirPods, slipping the left one in first followed by the right. You pull up your music and begin flipping through your playlists, searching for something to match the relaxed tone of the hour. Truly, you feel like you could easily drift off to sleep. 

You find a nice quiet playlist and curl up in your seat, halfway reluctant you didn’t take Jake’s jacket, but also proud of yourself for saying no. You’re fucking freezing. 

You turn your head to the side and close your eyes, ready to drift off into another world. 

You’re jolted awake by turbulence, the plane shaking again as you wake up and get your bearings. “Shit,” you breathe as you sit up straighter, remembering exactly where you are. You notice that in your slumber, your head had fallen against Jake’s shoulder. Fuck. Fuck fuck.

The turbulence only lasts a few seconds before it evens out again, and the calmness returns to your body. You glance at Jake, seeing him looking a little drowsy and shaken, too.

“Jake, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, why didn’t you wake me? I—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I kinda dozed off, too,” he replies, stretching his arms high above his head without a care…not like he didn’t just have a stranger asleep with her head on his shoulder.

You look down, noticing that in the time you had drifted off, Jake had covered you with his coat. 

You panic, scrambling a little as you work to pull it from your body before anyone notices. 

His hands are quickly on yours, stopping your action. “Leave it, Y/N. You were shivering in your sleep…you can’t tell me you aren’t cozy right now…” his voice is barely a whisper, and the warmth of his hands grazing overtop of yours, even for a second, is enough to give you a whole other type of chill. 

“Yeah, I—I am warm…” you can’t deny that your body temperature has increased by at least a couple of degrees, and your fingers don’t feel like they’re going to get frostbite anymore. The jacket is heavy, heavier than it looks, and it smells like fresh pine needles and woodsy body soap. Just like…him?

“See?” he growls, backing away. “Just stay put.” 

Stay put? You want to bite back with something that will put him in his place; you explicitly told him you didn’t want his jacket, and he covered you anyway. While you were unconscious. While you couldn’t turn down the offer. 

…But you’re so warm, now. Your tense muscles are finally relaxing. The frigidity of the space has suddenly turned into a toasty furnace with a crackling fire.

Okay, but just until we land…

“What are you listening to?” Jake asks as he stretches again. You turn your phone for him to see, showing a generic playlist of Peaceful Sleep Songs lighting up your lock screen. 

“Agh, no, what is that shit?” Jake snatches your phone from your hand, quickly flipping the screen to unlock with your face before he begins shuffling through your playlists. 

“What are you doing?!” you yelp, reaching for your phone back. He raises his free hand to the air, stopping you from taking it. 

“Aht aht… I’m finding you something better to listen to. Don’t worry about it.” You suddenly hear the quiet music in your ears switch to something else, something you knew for a fact you hadn’t ever heard before. You give it a second as he turns the volume up a few notches, and you realize that it is most definitely brand new to you. 

It’s a solemn, tense-feeling piano beat, followed in by guitar. Lyrics only come in after a minute and a half or so. It sounds like growling, deep and hollow and a bit scary, but beautiful nonetheless. He’s watching your face as you experience it, quickly pressing pause as the song comes to a close. 

“What was that?” you ask, realizing you had really enjoyed it. 

“That was a song called Intro, by Alt-J. I know you’ve heard of Alt-J.” he says as he goes back to work on the phone. 

You slowly shake your head from side to side. “Can’t say I have, actually.” 

His jaw goes slack as his eyebrows raise in disbelief. “What? Like, never?” 

You feel your cheeks turning pink at the thought of a literal rockstar calling you out on your lack of music knowledge. 

“I don’t think so! That’s not what I normally listen to…don’t judge me,” you laugh, reaching for your phone again. 

He swats your hand away. “Ohh no, little fledgling. You’re listening to this. This is the good shit…” he presses play again as a twinkling high-pitched voice comes through your ears. It’s just jumbled words, no backing music or tune. The acapella strikes you as strange at first, until the end when it changes tone a bit, and it’s almost as if the lyrics are giving you advice you didn’t ask for. Warning you of something new and exhilarating, or better yet, dangerous and foreboding. It almost feels as if a black cloud has overcome you, only for a split second, letting you feel the nonexistent pokes and pinches that come along with the emotion of worry. 

The song flows directly into another now, one layered with a lot more sound, and it pulls you from that odd headspace the previous had put you in. You lean over the armrest, looking at the screen to see the title Tessellate. You’ve never heard anything like this kind of music before, and you wonder why Jake chose this particular artist. 

“This is one of their more popular ones, like radio popular, but it’s still one of my favorites on this album. Here in a second you’ll hear it slow down—”

You stop him by pulling your right earbud out, shoving it in his hand. “Shh, you can talk me through the songs later. Let me listen.”

He shuts his mouth, giving you a sweet grin as he takes the bud, placing it in his own ear and pressing play again. You continue on through the album, each song something brand new to you, a genre you’d really never delved into but wish you had, now. It’s enthralling, different, and full of sounds that make your mind sway and swim through mixtures of color and gray. 

You watch as Jake’s fingers tap along exactly with the beat of each song perfectly, down to a tee. The words don’t make much sense to you, and you can hardly distinguish what the singer is saying, but you know that Jake will give you a rundown of it all as soon as time allows him. You don’t know much about him, but his persistence is already apparent. You glance to see his eyelashes hitting his cheeks, his head barely bobbing side to side as he feels the music. You find yourself envious that he can draw inspiration and act on it, turning it into art of his own, whereas all you can do is sit back and listen to it.

Every couple of minutes he perks up from his meditation and adds new songs from their other albums onto the little playlist he’s started for you. You can’t quite make out what he’s titled it, but you can tell it's an emoji of some sort. His thumb flips and flies with precision across your screen as he scrolls and adds songs, and you have to admit, you’re a little excited to get your phone back and learn just what he’s creating for you. Especially for you.

You take a quick deep breath as you recenter yourself, catching your eyes drifting over his hand as he grips your phone. The veins in his hand roll over his knuckles, and you can just barely see the scuffed and calloused ends of his fingertips. Dial it the fuck back Y/N, remember the rules.

“Oooh, this is another one of my favorites,” he remarks, his mouth fairly close to your ear as he tries not to raise his voice over the volume of the music. He turns the screen a little so you can see the title, Taro. “You haven’t— You didn’t come to any of our shows last year by chance, did you?”

You feel a big pang of guilt shoot through your chest, remembering that you had actually been invited by some friends to see them way back when, but you’d turned the invitation down, not knowing who they even were at the time. You shake your head from side to side. “No, I didn’t.”

“This is one of the ones we play to the crowd before we go on. We all love it, it’s a sad, sad love tale based on true events. That’s the cool thing about this group, their lyrics are never really about what you think they are. They’re storytellers, a bit like Josh is, if you think about it. Their themes and over arcs are just…mind blowing sometimes.” Jake’s voice is a tiny murmur in your ear as your shoulders lean on one another’s again, still very taken with the music flowing through your ear. “We grab a lot of inspo from them, sonically and melodically…” You can feel his breath on your cheek, and you find yourself wondering what it would taste like…

“Here, read along with the lyrics. Try not to cry.” He hands your phone back, letting you keep up with the words floating down your screen. And he’s right, it’s heartbreaking without even knowing the context. 

“Wow…That was really beautiful,” you choke, realizing the depth of the story of the song. 

“Yep. Good shit, I told you.” He whips his hand around and takes the phone back as the next song comes in and warms your bones up again. You can feel the bare skin of his elbow brushing against yours, realizing that he was telling the truth about being naturally warm-bodied. Suddenly you don’t feel so bad about cuddling up under his coat. 

He opens your contacts app and adds himself, placing the sword emoji beside his name. He smirks as he hands the phone back. 

“Added your phone number, huh?” you ask rhetorically.

He sucks his teeth as he cracks his fingers. “Yep. How else will I let you know what I might need? Plus, never know when you might need to call me.”

—

You watch the signs overhead illuminate, a gentle tone ringing through the cabin as the Captain starts to make an announcement. You pause the song and pull your AirPod out, watching Jake do the same. 

“Hey folks, this is your Captain speaking. Just want to let you know we will be landing in Hamburg shortly. I’d expect to be on the ground in the next ten minutes or so, putting us about fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, so sit tight and we’ll have you on the ground in a few. Attendants please prepare for arrival.”

You turn to look at Jake, shrugging as you slide your AirPod back into the case. He raises his eyebrows and drops his jaw. “But we aren’t done! Wait! Hold on!”

He grabs your phone again, and from what you can see he is adding more songs to your playlist. You watch as he scrolls through various different albums by different artists, adding songs as quickly as he can. You smirk as you catch sight of the emoji he’s chosen, the chick icon, a playful nod at his earlier fledgling comment. He peeks over at you every few seconds, trying his best to hurry so you can pack up your things, but in a last effort you watch as he adds himself as a collaborator to the playlist. 

You raise an eyebrow to him as he hands your phone back to you, shrugging with a soft laugh. You feel your insides swirl at the sight of his smile, and you turn your eyes to your phone scrolling through the songs on the playlist. You turn back to him and nod, a silent agreement that you will listen just as you feel the plane starting to land. 

“I wanna keep adding songs for you to listen to, fledgling. If you want me to, of course…” 

You nod. “Of course I do. School away, Jake,” you reply with an air of playful annoyance.

He chuckles. “I plan to.”

As you brace for the landing you grip your hands into the arm rests, letting go of the soft worn in corduroy fabric you’d been playing with for the last hour. Your eyes squint closed as the plane touches down, jolting everyone forward in their seats. Jake grabs his phone as the plane slows down, flashing his screen at you to show a local time of 12:13AM. 

“I see some jet lag in our future,” you smile, sliding his jacket off of your arms. You fold it the best you can and hand it back to him, almost sad you have to give it back to him. “Thanks again for that.”

“Oh yeah, no problem.” He accepts it graciously from you, letting out a soft breath as he unfolds it and slides it back over his shoulders. It fits his personality well, soft and sturdy, worn in and weathered. He flips his hair out from beneath the collar, a barely there smell of peppermint passing through the air. You pull your gaze away from him just as you see his cheeks start to blush from your gaze. You lock your phone and stick it into your backpack at your feet, wondering how in such a short amount of time Jake has managed to infiltrate your thoughts so completely. 

JAKE POV

As she turns to grab her bag you open your phone, tapping on the notification that she has added you to her playlist. You accept the invitation with a sly smile before sliding your phone back into your coat pocket. It smells like her now, soft and floral, very different than anything you were used to. Your mind was already circling with things you wanted to add to that playlist when you got a minute, finding it was harder than you thought to think of songs on the fly. 

The first few rows begin to file out of the plane and you watch as Paul stands and turns to look at Y/N, motioning to her to meet up with him after she got off the plane. She nods her head and slides her backpack straps over her shoulders, waiting for her turn to stand. 

“For jet lag…You know…Um, Benadryl,” you offer, your voice a little soft and unsure.

She turns to look at you, pinching her brows together in question. 

“When you get to your room tonight, take a Benadryl. Should knock you out until the morning and help you get on a normal schedule. Works for me, at least.” you finish, nodding to her as the people in front of you stand to leave. 

“Thanks, Jake.” She smiles and nods, sliding out of her seat to walk down the aisle. 

You watch her as she walks up the jet bridge towards the gate, seeing Paul waiting for her in the doorway. The two walk together through the airport, finding it fairly quiet at this hour as most of the flights have landed for the night. You push your sunglasses down onto your nose just as you feel Josh walking up behind you. 

He gives you a gentle nudge in the side to get your attention. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Easy flight,” you answer, still listening and catching bits and pieces of whatever Paul is saying to Y/N, prepping her for the hotel check in and details for the morning. She is typing notes on her phone as she walks, barely looking where she is going, clearly trusting Paul to look out for her more than she should.

You tune out Josh as he rambles on about the flight, Ty jumping in every few words with a retort or a laugh. Your eyes don’t seem to leave her though, watching her talk, watching her walk, shit, just watching her. You can’t seem to shake it. You’d never met anyone like her before. Someone you were so instantly taken with. You wanted to know every single detail about her. 

You feel Josh’s hand as it comes up to your chin, pressing it upward and forcing your jaw shut. “There, you seemed to have dropped that.”

You turn to him angrily, knowing what he’s insinuating, giving him a hard elbow to the arm. “Fuck off, Josh.”

He laughs and pushes you with his shoulder, readjusting his backpack on his other shoulder. “Just an observation, that’s all. Can’t say I blame you, though.”

“Oh are you talking about Jake and Y/N?” Sam interjects, stepping up on your right side in a lanky stride. 

Josh nods, laughing slightly, wanting to keep this banter going. Asshole. 

“Can you two knock it off, fuck,” you growl, hoping she can’t hear them. Your eyes are locked in on her again, and much to your relief she is talking to Paul and can’t hear a word they’re saying.

“He didn’t shut up the entire flight. Lots of whispering and giggles from up there. I didn’t sleep at all. But I did hear his monologue about the genius of Alt-J for the fourth time this year.” Josh quips, earning a laugh from everyone around you. 

“Fuck you again, Josh,” you spit, annoyed at his lack of respect. 

“Damn, so you’re trying to scare her away, then?” Sam teases, giving you a sideways grin. 

You shake your head and push past them forcefully as you step off the escalator into baggage claim, not wanting to engage in this conversation a second longer. Especially because you were afraid they might be right. 

—

“Shit, not again,” Danny mumbles as you all approach the baggage claim area, immediately noticing a group of fans obviously waiting for your arrival. You take a deep, preparational breath as you can’t help but run into them on your path to the carousel. 

“Let’s just get it over with,” you hear Josh complain as he puts on his faux-happy face. You all love meeting fans. Truly, watching their faces light up when they see you is something that is unparalleled. But coming off of a long flight and already feeling the effects of the time difference, starving, and ready for a drink usually puts all of you in a mood that is generally irked overall. But you always suck it up; this is the life you signed up for. 

This time though, unlike most encounters with fans, is enough to make your general irritation quickly turn into intense aggravation. They swarm you, hugging and pulling and invading your spaces in an extremely unwelcome attempt at meeting each of you. You feel surrounded, and unable to get to your luggage in time before it rounds the carousel again. You keep your cool, just as you always do, curtly smiling and pulling away as your body instructs you to. You pause for quick photos as your eyes search the spinning luggage again. You see your brothers out of the corners of your eyes doing the same… quick ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet you’s’ as the crowd just seems to get bigger and bigger. 

Just as your eyes finally fall on your suitcase, you hear a loud clack as you turn and notice someone has knocked Sam’s phone out of his hand. It lands face down on the tile floor, likely cracked and scuffed from the people crowding around you all. You watch as Sam’s face turns up in annoyance, his eyes closed as he composes himself. 

“Okay, that’ll be enough!” You hear Dean, your security, bellow across the crowd. “Please step away, no more photos, no more photos…” Dean makes his way into the center of group, quickly dispersing them. You give Sam a quick look that says, ‘get your phone, let’s go’, and soon enough you’re rolling your suitcase through the middle of the crowded room. 

You see Y/N in the crowd, finding her to be a little flustered from the encounters, but alright nonetheless. You lock eyes with her as she mouths, ‘Are you okay?’, and you nod her off with a look of, ‘Yeah, this happens all the time.’

Your team is surrounding you as you quickly walk through the hallway toward the exit, ready to hop into an unmarked van and zip away to your hotel. You’re still being followed as you make it through the back exit doors.

When you’re finally safe outside the pickup area, everyone breathes a sigh of relief. “Fuck, that was a bad one.” Danny says. “Sam, how's your phone?”

“It’s ok, just a little scuff in the corner but it’ll be fine,” he answers, scanning his eyes over it.

“Guys, keep your phones on, Wes will be texting you tomorrow with where we’re headed next. Get some sleep and something to eat.” Paul instructs as everyone loads their things into the vans. Y/N is standing nearby, and you can tell that she feels a little out of place as she awkwardly crosses one ankle over the other. You take a quick opportunity to knock your elbow into her side, feeling comfortable enough to do that now that you’d sat together so long on the plane, but she’s avoiding eye contact. You hope she doesn’t feel uncomfortable around you.

“Hey, thanks for letting me jam a little with you on the plane,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry if I overstepped any, but I really think you’ll like the music I added for you.”

Finally her composure opens a little. “No, no! You didn’t… overstep. I’m actually excited to hop in my big cozy hotel bed and listen again.” Her words make your stomach fall with nerves, but you quickly suppress it. 

“Y/N, you ready?” you hear Wes ask her as he passes by, heading toward another van.

“Yep, all set!” she answers as she follows him through the dwindling group. She hops into another van, and you worry she’ll be staying at another hotel. For a second you think you won’t see her as much if she is. You climb inside the van and slam the door closed behind you, seeing the group of fans with their phones pressed to the windows of the airport. You plop back down into the middle seat beside Josh, and finally take a full breath of relief. 

“Fuck! I swear to god if I’m getting sick again…” Josh says as he bangs his head against the headrest behind him. You scoot sideways on the van’s bench seat, staying as far away from him as you can. 

“Are you serious?!” Danny says from the seat behind you. “You need a mythical medicine man or some shit.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, just feel a little congested. I’ll send Y/N out on her first mission for some meds after we get settled in the hotel.” Josh answers, and you keep yourself pressed against the van’s window, purposefully turning your back to him. Can’t have that again. You realize, though, that of course she’ll be in the same hotel as you, management always is. 

The vision of a worried Y/N replays in your mind, seeing her face full of concern as the fans did all but ambush you earlier. You shake the thought, suddenly having a realization that, most likely, everyone else is having, too. 

“I think we should amp up security,” you blurt. “No offense to Dean, but he’s only one guy. There are more than ten of us…” you’re met with a little bit of silence, so you press on. “Just while we’re over here, at least. We’re going to be separated a lot, and I think it would be a good idea if Dean wasn’t being pulled in all different directions.”

“Don’t you think we should have thought of that before we got over here, Jake?” Josh counters. 

“I’ve actually been thinking it for a while. Today just…made me feel like it’s necessary, now,” you respond quietly. What could it hurt? You have the funds, and a few extra eyes on you and your team couldn’t be a bad thing. 

You hear a collective sigh from your brothers, until Sam finally speaks. “Yeah, I kinda felt a little overwhelmed when I dropped my phone and it got kicked away from me. First world problems, I know, but—”

“But someone could have picked it up, and ran off with it. Gotten access to your private information. Stepped on it and shattered it. We’re probably just paranoid, but I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a bad idea…” you suggest. 

“I like the idea.” Josh adds. “Wish we would have talked about it sooner, but I’m sure Paul could get something arranged for us. Those security companies are always looking for overseas gigs.”

“Daniel, you agree?” you ask, twisting your body to the backseat. 

“Yeah, I do, actually,” he decides. 

“Good. It’s settled, then. We’ll talk to Paul first thing in the morning,” you say, happy with your decision of bringing it up. All you can see is a memory of Y/N’s scared face replaying over and over in your mind, and you just can’t seem to shake it.

You quickly curse yourself, you’re in no headspace to be worrying about a woman right now. You’ve gotta keep your head on straight. Tour hasn’t even started yet, and you’re already letting a new girl give you butterflies. You audibly scoff at yourself as you lean your elbow on the window, looking out at the bustling streets outside. You throw your earbuds in, letting the tangle of cords just be what it is, and you pull your phone out to switch the volume up. Of course, Alt-J pops onto your screen the second you look at it, and you wonder if she’s already listening to them, too. 

The city lights are twinkling through the light drizzle of rain, and you finally feel your bones starting to settle into tiredness. Though your mind is racing with excitement to play shows, you let yourself ignore the thoughts and relax into the music blessing your ears. Some room service and a down comforter is calling your name. 

—--

HER POV

The shrill sound of your hotel room telephone wakes you from a half-sleep. What the hell? What time is it? You don’t remember falling asleep, but the loud TV and the lights still illuminating the room signify you must have accidentally dozed off. 

“Hello?” you answer, realizing that no matter the time, duty calls. 

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Paul. Sorry if I woke you…”

“No, you’re fine. I’m awake,” you lie. 

“Cool. Um, Josh was wondering if you’d run to the pharmacy down the street and pick up the meds I just texted you. He said he would go get them himself, but he’s doing a lung steaming treatment or… something. I dunno. But if you don’t care, here’s your first assignment! I know it’s late, but the pharmacy is apparently open all night.”

You glance at your watch and see that it’s already nearing 1:00AM. “Sure! I don’t care at all. Tell him I’ll have them to him ASAP.” 

“Will do. Hey, turn your location on for me and Wes, okay? Be safe, thanks again,” Paul hangs up the phone before you can say goodbye, and within seconds you’re crawling out of bed and putting your pants back on. Your stomach growls as you realize you fell asleep without eating anything. You make a plan to make a quick trip to the pharmacy, deliver Josh his medicine, then go back out to find something to eat before you end up eating the bag of peanuts you stuffed in your bag on the plane. 

You take a second to check your messages, finding you have three unread messages from Ruth. In the mess and confusion of the day, and the time difference, you’ve been thrown for a loop. You shoot her a quick few texts to let her know you’re alive and well, but you leave out the sweet little detail that you’d shared AirPods with the guitarist of the band you’re touring with. You’d get into that part later.

The walk to the pharmacy is short, thankfully, and you find the things Josh needs without much of an issue at all. The city is still fairly crowded with people at this hour, and you make sure to track your steps backward just the way you came to get back to the hotel. Your stomach rumbles again, and the smells coming from the various restaurants around you have your head spinning with hunger. 

A few quiet knocks on Josh’s hotel room door bring him to answer it within seconds, and his warm composure instantly makes you feel welcome. “Y/N! Thank you so much, seriously. I need to knock this shit out before it gets any worse, and I think you just saved the day,’ he gushes as you see clouds of steam pouring out of his cracked bathroom door, and smell the sweet scent of herbal fragrances as they waft through your nose. “You have any trouble finding the place? Google said it was close by…”

“Anytime, Josh. And no, actually. It was right around the corner,” you answer, handing him the bag of meds.

“Good. Well I won’t bother you again, you heading to sleep?” he asks with a warm tone.

You bite the inside of your lip as your stomach screams at you again. “No, I passed a little pub on my walk, and it smelled amazing as I walked by. Think I’m gonna go have a drink and get something to eat. I’m starving.”

“Go feed yourself, love. Enjoy the city. We’ve got a long day tomorrow!” 

“Will do, see you tomorrow!” you say as he closes the door. 

“Thanks again! See ya!”

You make your way to the elevator and down to the bottom floor, digging your phone out of your pocket to check your location and make sure the pub is still going to be open at this hour. A quick search for Le Marmitone tells you the kitchen doesn’t close for another hour, so you pick up your pace and head straight for the pub. 

The wind and rain have picked up a little bit, and you thank yourself for adding a few layers on before you left your hotel room earlier. The cold air bites at your cheeks as you meander through the people still out walking the streets, and the smell of the food drifting on the wind draws you straight back to the pub. Upon entering the double doors, you find that it is actually a nice restaurant with a bar. 

You grab a seat at the corner of the bar, glancing to the coolers and shelves to see what your drink options are.

“Evening madame, here is a menu. Can I get you a beverage?” a man in a sport coat asks as he hands you the shiny white menu. His accent is thick, but you can understand him fairly easily.

“Hello. Could I have a whiskey soda and a water, please?” you ask as you remove your heavy jacket and hang it over the back of the stool. You look over the menu choices and decide on a bowl of soup and a sandwich, more of a lunch option, but a steaming hot bowl of soup sounds exactly like what you need right now. 

There are a few people still scattered throughout the restaurant, most closing their tabs and leaving for the night. There are a few patrons still at the bar, stuck in conversations with one another or watching whatever game is playing on the big screen. 

The bartender sets your drinks in front of you as you tell him your food order, and you pull out your phone to begin fishing through emails and making your daily checklists. The Whiskey drink is strong, but not too strong, and you let yourself enjoy the immediate warmth it sends coursing through your veins. 

You fill your stomach up as far as it will allow you, and you decide that one more drink probably won’t hurt, as the place doesn’t close up for another hour. You’re enjoying yourself, basking in the calm before the storm that is going to hit promptly at 10AM tomorrow. 

“‘Scuse me, sir. I’ll take one more drink and my check, please,” you alert the bartender. He nods and turns to concoct your drink and print your tab. When he returns, he plops a bright red maraschino cherry onto the top. 

“Gentleman at the end of the bar says this one is on him, ma’am.” He places the white slip of paper in front of you as he removes your dishes, and disappears. Your eyes slowly drift to the left, landing on an older gentleman who had been lingering at the end of the bar since you’d gotten here. His friends have since left, leaving him to finish off a few more rounds by himself. 

He smiles hard when you notice him, and slides off his stool, stumbling his way toward you. You feel your heart rate pick up as he approaches you, and you remember that you do have mace in your purse, should you need it, Ruth’s one request.

“Hello, lovely. Enjoy that drink on me this evening,” he slurs with a heavy accent. He sits down in the stool beside you, and suddenly you’d rather not have that second drink, after all. You glance at the drink, and back to him, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in his presence. 

“Um, thank you, really. But I—I’ve actually got to go. It’s getting to be later than I thought…” you lie, pulling out some cash from your purse to pay the bill. 

“Nonsense! Have the drink, beautiful. Tell me, where are you from? Your accent tells me it’s somewhere far away from here…” he presses, pushing the drink toward you. His hands are giant, and covered in dark hair. He has a beard of the same color that reaches almost down to his stomach, and you can smell the alcohol radiating from his breath. 

“The States,” you say bluntly, avoiding eye contact with him as the bartender is nowhere to be found. You immediately kick yourself for not telling Dean where you had run off to, all by yourself. You know better than this. 

“Obviously, sweetheart. But where?” he asks. 

“Um, a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it,” you go on, beginning to pull your jacket on and leave the money on the bar top. Suddenly the man’s hand is on the back of the stool, holding it steady as you try to turn it. 

“I’d like to hear all about it, love,” he growls, and you suddenly feel very intimidated. There is no one else around, no other patrons at the bar, you couldn’t feel the presence of another human or employee running about, and you contemplated making a run for it. 

“I promise I’m not here to scare you, just talk. That’s all I’d like to do…” he goes on, backing his hand away from the chair as he notices your panic. Finally, the bartender makes his way back, but instead of taking your check, he continues cleaning and re-stocking for the night. You’re alone, and uncomfortable. Why did you do this to yourself? 

Suddenly you remember that Jake put his number in your phone. You know you can’t get a hold of Dean at this hour, especially since you didn’t tell him you were going anywhere. You can’t make that bad of a first impression before your first day even really happens. 

You quickly turn your attention to your phone, trying to figure out what to do, but then it hits you. You type in the name, taking a deep breath before sending Jake a risky text as a last ditch effort. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone, hmm?” the man asks as you turn away from him to type as quickly as you can.

You

1:47AM: Jake, are you awake?

Your foot taps nervously on the floor, the man next to you doing everything in his power to corner you into this seat. A text bounces back after a minute, and you feel your shoulders relax just a touch. 

Jake 🗡

1:49AM: How did you get this number?

You

1:50AM: You put it in my phone today on the plane. Are you busy?

Jake 🗡

1:51AM: Oh, hey. No, I’m just getting ready to go to bed, why what’s up? You okay?

You

1:52AM: No. I don’t think so. I hate to ask this, I know it’s late. Is there any way you could come meet me? I left to get something to eat and didn't tell anyone and this guy here has me cornered into my seat and I don't think he is gonna let me leave alone.

Jake 🗡

1:53AM: Share your location, I’m leaving now.

You

1:54AM: Thank you. I owe you.

“Did you hear me sweetheart? I said, are you expecting someone?” the man asks, a sly grin on his face as he leans closer to you. 

You quickly glance back down at your phone, sharing your location with Jake and hoping he can find you. You lock your phone and put it in your purse, pretending you’re a lot less anxious than you actually are.

“Actually, yes, I am. My…boyfriend is on his way. He’ll be here in just a second.” you lie, doing your best to speak confidently. “I should probably step outside to meet him.”

“No, no, stay, you haven’t touched your drink,” he says, gesturing to the glass of alcohol. “I know a place down the street, stays open late, too.”

You feel your skin start to grow clammy, the man's intentions suddenly becoming very clear. Your heart is pounding as you try to talk your way out of the situation. You clear your throat, and just as you start to speak you see the front door of the restaurant open. Jake steps inside, looking side to side, his eyes quickly scanning the entirety of the restaurant until he locks eyes with you. 

He nods to the host at the door as he walks toward you, wearing the same clothes from earlier but now his hair is a little messier. You know he got out of bed to do this. 

You instantly stand from your seat as Jake steps up, reaching towards him as he settles himself between you and the man. 

“Hey baby, you finally made it,” you coo, your pleading eyes locked on Jake’s as he wraps his arm around your shoulder in a welcoming hug. You can smell him, the cologne lingering on his coat. The same coat that was wrapped around you only hours ago.

He pulls away and drops his arms to his side as you turn to him. You stare at him just a second longer, hoping he can hear the words you are screaming in your mind. He blinks and turns to look at the man before letting his eyes flick back to you. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course babe, sorry I was late,” he pauses, turning to face the drunk man beside him. “Who is this?”

You let out a small breath of relief as he silently agrees to play along with you. “Oh, he came over from the bar. He sent this drink over, but I just can’t drink it. I already had one and you know I work in the morning,” you answer, hoping he is understanding what you’re trying to say. “Do you want it?”

He looks so effortless standing there with a hand in his jacket pocket. He tilts his head and scrunches his nose just a bit before answering, “Ahh, nah…It looks like a watered down well pour and I just had one myself before I got here. I’m alright. We should probably get going though, we have an early day tomorrow and it’s fairly late already.”

Yes.

“Oh, you two are terrible liars. He isn’t your boyfriend, is he sweetheart?” the man asks, scoffing at Jake. “You should come with me, I can show you the city better than this fool.”

“That’s an awfully brazen assumption, sir, I must say.” Jake argues, pulling his hand from his coat pocket and grabbing yours. You suck in a harsh breath feeling his fingers lace with yours. Fake or not, there was definitely a new feeling swirling through your veins. 

“Look at her, she’s flustered. This woman hasn’t ever been touched by you. It’s written all over her face.” he continues, looking Jake over. 

“Your boyfriend, your husband, he isn’t any of those things. I don’t see a ring on your finger, and I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but in this country, you my dear, are fair game.”

You want to snap back. The audacity is astounding. You start to step forward, ready to lay into him, but you feel Jake’s hand squeeze yours and you know he’s telling you to follow his lead this time.

“She is with me, sir,” Jake spits. “And it would be in your best interest to back off.”

“Oh, is that right?” the man counters, standing up from his seat, giving him a few good inches over Jake. Jake didn’t falter though. Of course he didn’t. He knew that didn’t matter.

“Kiss her, then. If she’s yours, kiss her,” he quips. 

“Absolutely not, I don’t have to prove anything to you, and quite frankly sir, it’s none of your business,” Jake snaps, you can tell he’s starting to get mad, his hand gripping yours a little harder. “Let’s go, babe.”

You stand firm next to him, not letting your face show a single waiver of emotion as the man waits to see if you’ll crack. Jake starts to walk away pulling you behind him, but before you can move the man grabs your other arm, taking both of you by surprise. 

“Stay, sugar. Let a real man take you home.”

Jake snaps his head around, hearing the words fall from the man's drunken mouth. For a minute you’re scared. You don’t know how Jake is going to react, his jaw is hard set and his nostrils flared in anger. You hear him curse under his breath as he shakes his head. 

“You know what? Fuckin’ fine…” he challenges, looking at the man then to you, nodding just enough for you to notice.

Just as you feel the anxiety of what he is about to do bloom in your chest, he reads your body language, letting a sweet and quiet ‘S’okay’ slip from his lips.

Your eyes widen a little as you realize what’s about to happen, but take solace in the fact that he’s likely just as nervous as you are. He stops, pulling you in towards him as his hand grabs at your waist.

His fingers grip into your hairline as he tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue swipes over your lips, hot and wet as your hands slide up his body to rest on his chest. You kiss him back, you’re trying to sell this as the real thing, but also partly because you just want to. You try not to think about that part too much as you let your tongue flick against his just for a second before pulling it back. You feel the vibration on your lips as the softest groan leaves his mouth just as he pulls away from you. 

Your lips are wet with the taste of him and your chest is heaving as Jake rubs his lips together and clears his throat. He turns to the man who is standing there staring at the two of you, a bit of challenge in his tone as he speaks. “You good now?”

The man scoffs, mumbling a curse as he bats at the air between you. You feel yourself relax in Jake’s grip as the man turns to walk back to his original place at the bar. A quiet ‘fuck’ leaves Jake’s mouth as he turns his attention back to you, stepping back and releasing his grip on you. 

His eyes search yours just as yours search his, both of you unsure what to say. Instead he looks over to the man again, nodding his head to him as he grabs your hand again and guides you towards the door.

“You okay?” he asks, opening the door and letting you walk out into the drizzle. You pull your jacket closed across your front, the cold air chilling your skin. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you– for that,” you murmur as he steps up next to you. He grabs your hand again, lacing his warm fingers with your cold ones, taking you by surprise. 

“Oh, it’s okay now Jake, he isn’t following us,” you offer, looking over your shoulder to check. He doesn’t drop your hand though, in fact you feel his fingertips brush across your knuckles, sending a whole different kind of chill through your body. 

“I know,” he answers, smiling shyly as he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re positive he can see the blush that has taken over your cheeks, your mouth suddenly dry, and your mind unable to form a response. You feel the butterflies swirling around in your stomach as you walk towards the hotel, the rain starting to taper off finally. 

“You can trust me, you know,” he says, his voice sincere as he guides you around puddles. 

“I barely know you, Jake,” you smile, bumping your shoulder into his. 

“For now,” he answers, squeezing your hand in his. 

He opens the door to the hotel lobby, the warm air instantly hitting you. Jake drops your hand, your fingertips brushing against his. You kind of miss it, in a way you definitely shouldn’t be. 

“Thank you again, for doing all of that. I’m really sorry. I fucked up, I won’t make that mistake again,” you say, watching him press the button for the elevator. Your eyes linger on his lips, a little pink from the cold air outside. 

“It was no problem, I promise. Stop apologizing,” he pauses, motioning for you to step into the elevator. “Let me walk you to your room, what floor?” he asks, his finger hovering over the buttons.

“Oh, no it’s really okay, you don’t have to do that. I promise I’m good now,” you stammer, watching his lips turn up in a huff of laughter. 

“Y/N, what floor?”

“Nine,” you squeak, your eyes fixated on the dimple in his cheek. You feel your skin growing warm just from looking at him, you feel like you might burst into flames just at the thought of how his lips felt on yours. Did you imagine that whole encounter? No way all of that just happened.

“Me as well,” he says, pressing the button as the doors close.

The two of you ride up in silence, casting each other the occasional glance every few seconds. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you're positive you stopped breathing. The elevator chimes as it reaches the ninth floor, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound. 

He smiles at you again as the doors open, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him. “Your room number?”

“Um, I think I'm 924, all the way down,” you answer, your heart jumping in your chest. 

He nods his head and puts a hand into his pocket. “Alright, I’m just up here in 915, but I’ll walk you down.”

“Jake you really don’t have to, you can just–”

He turns to you and laughs, shaking his head again. “Just let me.”

“Fine.” You huff a breath, pulling your own keycard from your purse. He walks only a step behind you, both hands in his pockets now as you step up to your door. You tap your key to the lock and hear it beep, signaling for you to enter. You turn to look at Jake, seeing a softness to his face you hadn’t noticed until now. 

“Thank you, for…being such a gentleman,” you say playfully, smiling at him. 

“My pleasure, Miss Y/N. There is some chivalry left in the world…” he answers, bringing his hand up to rub at his lips. 

You start to enter your room, and hear him speak again, this time very quietly.  “We’re not all bad.”

You turn around to see him shifting his weight still rubbing his fingers over his chin as if he expected you not to hear him. 

“What?”

He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, clearly shocked you heard him. You can tell he wants to say something but he’s holding back. Maybe you’ve spooked him. 

He shakes his head with a smile, as if telling himself whatever he wanted to say was stupid. He pulls his phone and his keycard from his pocket and grips them in his hand. “Nothing, nothing, um, have a good evening. I will see you in the morning, I suppose.”

You nod once, giving him a sweet and appreciative smile, “See you in the morning.”

He lingers for just a moment, eyes locked on yours before flicking down to your lips. He catches himself and looks back at you before turning to head down the hallway. You shut the hotel room door and twist the lock, letting out the breath you had been holding with a gasp. 

You spin around, letting your back press against the door as you sink down to the floor with a barely audible squeal. Holy. Shit. What the hell was that?

Pull yourself together Y/N.

You grab your purse and stand up, digging through it as fast as you can in search of your phone. You have no earthly idea what time it is in Nashville but you don’t care as you pull up your texts with Ruth, and begin furiously typing. 

You

2:34AM: Without going into detail I definitely just kissed the guitarist 🫢

You toss your bag onto the chair and change into your pajamas, your blood still rushing around in your body as you try to calm your nervous system. A text bounces back, and you know it’s her. 

Ruth

2:40AM: WITHOUT GOING INTO DETAIL???? KISSED? I just got to my desk!!!! I’m here. I’m sat. I’m listening. I want every single detail in a five paragraph essay with MLA formatting.

You

2:42AM: Lol it is 2:40 in the morning. I will call you tomorrow, which is really still today for you, but kinda tomorrow for me? I don’t know this is confusing but I will call you and give you the full run down because we also shared airpods on the plane and he made me a playlist? Love you goodnight!

Ruth

2:44AM: AIRPODS? A PLAYLIST??????

2:45AM: Y/N NO! GET BACK HERE

2:45AM: Okay. Hang on, I’m googling him. I need to see this man’s face

2:46AM: Wait there’s two guitarists

2:46AM: Ok one is the bassist HELLO?? You kissed HIM?! Aldjsfklsk

2:48AM: It’s totally fine and I am being so normal about this. Talk to you later, if I haven’t pulled all my hair out by then! I’ll be creeping his insta all day! Goodnight!

You laugh as you read her onslaught of messages, knowing that she is likely going out of her mind with possible scenarios. You make your way into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth so that you can positively melt into the bed and sleep until your alarm forces you awake. You’re patting your face dry as your phone buzzes on the bathroom counter, but the noise it makes isn’t one you’re familiar with. You hang the towel on the ring and pick up your phone, seeing a notification come through that is brand new to you.

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

He what? 

Now?

Your blood runs cold just seeing his name on your phone after…well…whatever that was.

You turn off the bathroom light, hesitantly sliding your finger across the notification, and letting it bring up the playlist. There at the very bottom you see that a new song was added two minutes ago. But not just any song, no. You know this one. You know this one well. You tap on the song hearing the familiar and haunting guitar riff of ‘Kiss Me’ by Sixpence None the Richer start to play through your phone speakers.

You can’t help but to laugh, a smile of shock has your jaw hanging wide open as you stand in your giant fancy hotel room, listening to what you consider to be a fairly romantic song sent straight to you from none other than your knight in shining, well, corduroy, armor. You couldn’t even picture him listening to this song, and somehow that almost made it a little better. 

As the chorus plays you fall backwards onto your bed, the fluffy white sheets enveloping you as a giddy feeling swirls through your chest. He’s thinking about me. He’s thinking about that kiss. You felt guilty for thinking about it, but now? Now you weren’t feeling so guilty. He liked it just as much as you did, clearly. 

Jake Kiszka liked kissing you. 

You. 

What?

You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of your face if you had to. You didn’t want to. This was quite possibly the most thrilling thing that has happened to you in months. Years! You had all but forgotten about creepy bar man at this point, but god you have half a mind to walk right back into that bar and shake his hand. 

But, you knew you had to calm down. Take a breath. The song came to a close, leaving the hotel room silent. Your mind was still swimming in bliss, replaying the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his hands held yours, the way he smelled, the way his lips tasted, oh god… He was thinking about your kiss. He all but told you so. 

You were also thinking about that kiss. He wanted you to know he was thinking about it. How can you– Oh. A sly grin spreads across your face as you type into the search bar. 

You find the song you’re looking for, your thumb hovering over the add button as you try to talk yourself out of doing this. It could end badly, terribly, really. He is technically your boss, and you know you shouldn’t be doing this, but. Hey, you’re just the runner. You smile as you watch the little box pop up reading ‘Added’.

Your heart starts to pound. Did he get a notification? Is he asleep? Did he see it? Will he understand? Since when did you start communicating with people through song titles?

You rush back to the playlist scrolling to the bottom and smiling as you press play on the new addition to your shared playlist. It's mere seconds before ‘Do It Again’ by Steely Dan starts to play and you laugh, knowing you are absolutely crazy. Do it again, of course you wanted to do it again. God he probably thinks you’re such a loser. Plot twist, you are, but he doesn't have to know that yet. 

You listen to the song, plugging your phone into the charger and turning off the lamp. You’ve always loved Steely Dan, it reminds you of your dad, but then again who doesn’t it remind of their dad? The song comes to a close, your giddy feeling finally starting to wear off as the exhaustion starts to step into its place. Your eyes feel heavy as you roll towards the nightstand to set your alarm, groaning at how soon it’s coming. You lock your phone and settle into the pillows, letting out a content sigh as you recap the day in all of its insane glory. 

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, the glow illuminating the room for just a brief second. You freeze as you stare up at the ceiling, almost too scared to look. Did he add another song? What if he changed his mind? What if you overstepped? Oh god. You should not have done that. What were you thinking?  

You suck in a breath as you grab your phone, nervously tapping the screen that shows no new songs added, but a text from Jake. 

Jake 🗡

3:04AM: I fully intend to. 

Oh, he definitely saw it.

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Join the Tag List Here

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[phoenixyfriend]

Qui-Gon gets necromancied by Dooku for Reasons, but instead of being convinced to join the Seps as the dear Count planned... Qui-Gon goes "oh cool, free grad student" and kidnaps Ventress on his way out of Serreno so he can fix all of That

[onboardsorasora]

🍒Ripe Cherries🍒 - Ch 1

summary:

Once upon a time…

Prince Max knew he would marry someday, for the good of the kingdom. He would do his duty to his people and the crown and marry the omega his father chose for him.

Princess Daniel had never wanted to marry, least of all some prince he didn’t know. But that was no longer his decision. He’d at least hoped his new alpha wouldn’t have been the Brute Prince of the North.

tags: Omega Verse, Alpha Max Verstappen, Omega Daniel Ricciardo, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Enemies to Lovers, Daniel Doesn't Want to Get Married

additional tags to be added

I'm so nervous and excited. I hope you guys like it!!

[emuanon34]

[prentissology]

lol, there is something so incredibly haunting about the way peter is bathed in the colors of spider man during his death. the way you can clearly see the hues of red and blue amongst the background - which looks more like gwen's spider suit than anything else.

also him being painted as “spider man” during his death is him being gwen's gwen stacy. in every other universe, spider man is unable to save gwen stacy from falling to her death; or from her death. but in gwen's universe - she's spider (wo)man, she's the peter parker who had to watch her gwen fall.

but also, something that isn’t in theme with gwen stacy and spider man is that spider man is always unable to save gwen stacy, that does not mean he is directly responsible for her death. he did not kill gwen stacy. he's never able to catch her, but he is not who kills her. but for peter's death, gwen had fought him, she had injured her best friend and she was inadvertently responsible for the piece of rubble that fell on the lizard. she killed peter parker. she was unable to save him because she was what he died to, gwen stacy falls to her death looking at what was supposed to be her savior, peter parker dies looking at his murderer.

anyways psa somebody give gwen a hug, and maybe more fanfic love from the fandom.

[drarry-reccage]

flashback, warm nights by warmfoothills (13k, M)

tags: time loop, the godric's hollow christmas shitshow of 1997, but with ron and draco

He doesn’t say anything, just slots their mouths together like it’s the last piece of a puzzle he’s trying to finish, here: shoulders align, here: lips. Draco presses his fingernails into his palms to stop himself making an embarrassing noise and pretends the lingering taste of hospital gravy on Potter’s tongue is unappealing, for the sake of his sanity. “Ron’s right, you know,” Potter says when he lets Draco go. The light from the freezer reflects off his lenses, and Draco blinks at him. “What he said back in the car. This probably isn’t the time to start something.” “This as in right now, in front of the frozen peas, or this as in halfway into a war that’s likely going to kill one of us?” “Are we halfway?” Potter doesn’t even flinch at the mention of dying. Draco supposes he’s done it a hundred times over by now, but he’s not supposed to remember that. “Bit optimistic.”

[gammija]

ok since the Magnus Protocol is confirmed AU from tma, and jonny and alex have purposely not said that their voices are not reappearing in TMAGP, consider:

evil AU jon and martin. mostly because I just know jonny and alex would have such a good time acting that out. And also because i want to see a completely unhinged jon and a web!martin used to their full potential damnit

[qprpbj]

something something ponyboy aspirin addiction fic where he gets the shit beaten out of and he doesn’t Stop Bleeding bc his bloods so thin. hmmm

[hier--soir]

Hey!

Do you think we’ll get a possible part 2 of the Joel pegging fic? Loved it!

aw hello thank you so much! that one is unfortunately a definite stand alone, but if you are looking for some more pegging @wannab-urs organised that whole writing event in january and has a masterlist on their page with links to so many good pegging fics!! run forth and enjoy! ♥️

[gretavangroupie]

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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[arquennial]

✨ A View of the Gate at Night ✨

Can't get enough hopeless romantic *and* unapologetically thirsty Gale? ... here, have a treato

AO3

Gale x fem!Tav

📊 ~5500 words (banter is Gale's favorite form of foreplay all right)

🗒️ Summary:

“What if someone notices?” asks Tav. “No one will. Even if anyone does venture out, my illusions are impeccable. No one would ever know.” Gale’s grin widens. “As long as you don’t make a sound, that is.”

Gale and Tav escape the fear and foreboding of the days leading up to the final battle by attending a ball in the Upper City with their companions. But when the air of romance and rare opportunity for privacy prove too tantalizing to resist, Gale infuses the evening with a little magic.

🏷️ Key tags: Romance, Public sex, Eventual Sex, Romantic Sex, Slow Burn, Accidental Ingestion of Aphrodisiacs in the setup but it's mild and it wears off quick!

(for my A Tangled Weave friends this is a Tav-and-plot-anonymized version of Chapter 88, so sorry to say there's not much new for you here! But stay tuned for some fun new things coming soon 💜🧵)

[geekeryisafoot]

From a pragmatic storytelling standpoint I get bringing the Ear Devil back and even agree with the choice. But also. Imagine the bizarre hilarious fucked up world building we'd get if he'd stayed eaten and the concept of ears permanently disappeared.

Imagine we're in the end game and there's a tense moment and the camera pans to anyone still alive staring at something in horror. And they just don't have ears. This is unrelated to anything currently happen.

[softmick]

Kinktober Day 27 - “Blood”

[blood, cutting]

Blood beads along the lines as Ian drags the razor lightly over Mickey’s left hip. Neat rows blossom, growing in number to match the ones on his right.

Goosebumps break out on his thighs when Ian’s warm breath tickles his pubic hair. “Almost done. Looks pretty.”

Mickey will see them later; after, as a reminder.

After Ian pulls at the skin and watches the beads run.

After he skims the rows with feather light touches of his fingers and lips.

After he fucks Mickey from behind, hands covering the cuts and smearing the blood.

After he does his first aid.

//

Red like fire, like his hair. Like love.

Red like death. Like violence. Like the end.

On Mickey’s skin from his hands? Like trust.

@gallavichthings

[merlinemrys]

honestly cannot trust some of y’all’s merthur fic recs bc i opened one and the first few paragraphs were that gwen DIED and i audibly said “no” and just exited the screen

[kingsroad]

marrow made a wife of eve, but no one gave up a rib for me and mine. my hearts did expose to the elements, calloused and untouched by a man's design.