#greta van fleet rom com

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Thirteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (a small amount of masturbation) Alcohol / Drinking, Suggestive conversations, dicking around on the job, Mentions of Sexual preferences, Flirting, Fluff, terrible dad jokes, and unfortunate amounts of pirate comments.

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Jake is still reeling from the events of the night before, when Charlotte rolls up with a wonderful proposition that he could NEVER refuse. Leading them into a fun game that helps him get through the rest of the night.

Author's Note: THE GAMES HAVE BEGUN. They really are so precious and watching them learn how to interact with each other has me giggling and kicking my feet. (even though I'm quite literally in charge of them 💀) Can't wait to hear how you guys feel after this one!! 💕😍

Bathroom Light - Mt Joy "So, come on, baby, let's do this right, I think I like falling in love in the bar bathroom light."

“I feel like we should talk.” 

Not my favorite thing she’s said to me, if we’re being honest. Charlotte’s leant against the doorframe to my office, her hands are busy playing with the dainty rings she has on. 

“Okay,” I say, “you can come all the way into the room though.” She scurried in, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

“I don’t know how to say this,” she starts, sounding timid, which is unusual for her. 

I can’t stop myself from speaking up, “Did I overstep?” 

“Oh my god, no. No, not at all,” she spits out. “I actually.. um.” She looks back down at her hands, a small grin grows on her face. 

My eyebrow pops up, waiting for her, “What?” Comes out with a slight laugh. 

“Maybe we could be friends who, like..” her face turning red as she whispers, “maybe hook up sometimes..” 

We’re friends? She wants to - with me? I- oh my god. 

“Oh,” I can hardly form words with the speed my brain is moving at, “Oh, uh, we can. Yes. I would be okay with that.” My eyes finally met hers, knowing full well that I probably look far too excited. 

“Really?” 

I watch her chew the inside of her lip and see her hands shake slightly, which honestly makes me feel a bit better. At least I'm not the only one who gets nervous. I reach out, grabbing one of her hands with both of mine, which gets her to look back at me. 

“Really,” I say quietly, “Whatever you're comfortable with.” Finally standing up from my desk, she just looks at me, and I can’t quite tell what's going on inside that pretty little head of hers. 

Suddenly her arms are wrapped around my neck in a hug, catching me off guard. I let my arms sit around her waist as she lets out the sweetest little laugh next to my ear. 

“You’re sure about this?” she asks, leaning back to look at me. I get to spend more time with her and possibly get laid once in a while? YEAH, I THINK I’M SURE. 

“You can be the Captain of this ship,” I tell her, choking back a laugh as hard as I can. 

She does not; she drops her head, leaning against me as she barks out a laugh. Her small frame just shook against me, but at least this time, it was happy. 

Still laughing, she looks back up at me, “You’re so dumb,” she manages to get out before leaning forward to press a sweet kiss on my lips. I could get used to that.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I didn’t anticipate the torture that I would endure after that conversation, having to be around her in the bar and stay normal about it. She already made me feel on edge, in a good way, before the last twenty-four hours, but now it’s ungodly how tense my body feels. 

I try to spend as much time cleaning and talking to the regulars that have come in, but I continuously find myself looking at her. I just want to talk to her. 

I pull out my phone, quickly type out a message, and slide it under the bar in front of me. 

Me: so.. does this mean I can just.. kiss you if we’re not around people?

My hands sweat at the thought, but god, what I’d give to kiss her again right now. I glance over as she picks her phone up, seeing the smirk creep onto her face. Looking around the bar to see if anybody might need something until my phone lights up. 

Charlotte: I'd like that. 🤭

Charlotte: You have a pretty mouth, so I think we should. 

Feeling warm at the compliment. A pretty mouth? I had been told on a multitude of occasions that I’m a bit more feminine, but given that my counterpart is Josh, who keeps his hair short and has facial hair, I don’t think I had much of a fighting chance. But I’ve never been complimented like that before, and I think I liked it.  

Me: play along 

I walk over to where she’s sitting, and her eyebrows pull in for a second looking at me. Sliding carefully behind Mel and Josh, I lean against the bar facing her. 

“Can you come with me? I need your opinion on if something is up to code,” I tell her, my voice at a normal volume but giving her a slow wink. 

“Oh, absolutely,” she replies, “Mel, I’ll be right back.” 

I meet her at the end of the bar, gesturing toward the hallway and leading her to our cooler. Once we’re out of sight, sticking my hand out behind me for her which she immediately grabs. We round the corner into the back room, and I turn to face her, pulling her into me. Tilting her chin up with my free hand, seeing her smile as I do. 

“Hi,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss against my lips. 

Letting out a small ‘mmm’ as my arms rest around her waist, “Let me just—“ Leaning in, noticing the way she doesn’t actually close her eyes. She just watches my mouth. Feeling her hands find their place on my stomach as I take her bottom lip between mine, making my heart shake. I wonder what makes her feel like this. Pulling my arms back slightly, letting my hands hold her waist, lightly squeezing her when I feel her hands grab my shirt. That must be something. 

“So, about that opinion,” I whisper into her, making her giggle. She reaches up, wiping the smudge of lipstick she left on me, and my stomach turns at how gentle she is.

Her eyes slowly look up, meeting my stare as she lets out a quiet, “I think that exceeds the standard, for sure.” 

We both hear footsteps in the hall; backing away from her quickly and folding my arms across my chest as she nods when Mel rounds the corner into the cooler.

“Jake, the POS is living up to its name.. Can you help?” she rolls her eyes, clearly frustrated. 

“Shit, yeah, I’ll be right there.” 

We both watch as Mel quickly turns, leaving the room looking fairly defeated. Standing there in silence for a matter of a few seconds before we both let out a quiet laugh. 

“I guess I need to do my job,” I whisper to her, making her smile. She turns to face me, fixing my shirt for me and moving a rogue hair back into place. Her hands linger on my chest as she looks at me, which only makes the butterflies in my stomach go wild. 

The smirk on her face is killing me when she says, “Go save them, boss man.” 

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The bar continued to get busier, making it harder and harder for me to not actually do my job. Almost as if flirting with pretty girls isn’t in my job description or something. Stealing little glances at her any chance I could while we quietly texted each other random things. 

Charlotte: You have to stop looking at me like that 

I grab the empty glasses from a table, walking back towards the bar but sneaking up behind her. 

“Like what?” I whisper next to her ear, setting the glasses on the bar top in front of her. Giggling as she jumps slightly, scowling at me, but that doesn’t stop my stare. It would be easier if she wasn’t gorgeous. My eyes fell between her lips and holding eye contact.  

“That,” she whispers back, “whatever that is.”  She leans into her hand while the other falls into her lap. 

“You don’t like it?” I ask, forcing myself to stay focused on her eyes. Leaning onto the bar next to her, letting my hand hang over the edge. 

She smiled softly, “No, it’s terrible,” oozing with sarcasm fell from her lips, feeling her hand graze mine. 

My head tilts slightly as my eyebrows raise, “and why is that, honey?” I whisper, pulling my bottom lip in with my teeth, watching as her face flushes. 

Forcing myself to back up, grabbing the glasses as I go, what I wouldn't give to just spend the night with her instead? 

Me: do you like being called honey? 

I set my phone under the bar, pouring a few drinks for the regulars sitting there, trying not to look over at her, but it’s impossible. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I see her pulling up her phone. What if she hates it? 

Charlotte: Mmmm I might 🤭

I'll never be sure what possessed me to call her that the first time. I've always just used ‘sweetheart’ or ‘dear’ because they feel safe and really can’t be taken too out of context. Also, to be entirely honest, I typically don’t get far enough with a girl to give her a cuter pet name than those.  It just sort of came out when I saw her start to melt down, and it’s stuck. 

Charlotte: Do you like that I use your full name? 

Her sweet voice calling me ‘Jacob’ plays in my head on a loop, so it’s safe to say I don’t mind it. Although, the way she called me ‘baby’ made me want to crawl out of my skin. She had me wrapped around her finger in that moment.  

Me: you can call me whatever your heart desires 

I looked over at her, saw her smile at the response, and quickly started to type. This game of twenty questions is definitely making tonight go by a little faster. 

Charlotte: That doesn’t really roll off the tongue nicely- I think I’ll stick with calling you by name or baby 😉

I audibly laugh at her text, unprepared for her to get me with a classic dad joke. It was almost enough to distract me from the last part, but no such luck as my heart fluttered at the pet name. I could go for hearing that a little more often. Wandering over towards her, I lean down as I grab the glass from in front of her and whisper, “You’re more than welcome to slip a ‘Captain’ in the mix as well, yknow?” 

She leans into her hand, propped up on the bar, “So, you do like that, huh?” 

“Felt a little different coming out of you,” I tell her, shrugging as I back up a little and biting the inside of my lip as she watches me. 

Her eyes rake down me before letting out a quiet, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I help Josh for a few minutes, pouring a handful of drinks for some regulars and running to grab orders from a few of the new tables that just came in. Rounding back behind the bar, I slide my phone out of my pocket quickly. 

Me: since we’re doing this- do you have questions or shall I continue 

Tossing my phone under the bar, turning to wash a handful of glasses for them. I try to just focus on what I’m doing. But I just want to pay attention to her. I turn around as I’m drying and putting away the glasses, doing my best to scan the room for anybody who may need anything. My eyes fixate on her as she sets her phone down and looks over at me. I pick up my pace drying, sliding the glasses onto their shelf quickly so I can grab my phone, needing to know what she said. 

Charlotte: I’m assuming you’re a physical touch person? 

Me: you would be correct but I’d like to say I can cover all the bases if you like something else more. 

I’ve always been a touch person, especially given that I’ve spent my whole life with Josh. He can’t go two seconds without grabbing your arm if he’s telling you something. So, it’s definitely something I’d developed over time and also suffered from; the lack of physical touch I’ve had in the last couple of years is contributing to the urge to ask her every two minutes to meet me somewhere hidden. Even though I would do whatever she prefers, I just hope she enjoys physical touch because I don’t know how I’m supposed to avoid it. 

Charlotte: Oh, touch is near the top with words of affirmation for me, so I think you’re doing just fine 

Knowing she likes words of affirmation makes my stomach knot up, the amount of things I’ve held back because I don’t want to overwhelm her. But I’ll tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen every day if she’ll let me. Despite the fact she was just being open, I decided to test the waters on this situation we’ve put ourselves in. 

Me: soo.. does that mean you like to be..reassured or no?

Hitting send, I immediately feel like I’m sweating. I pour a few beers waiting for her reply, hoping that she knows what I meant and that she doesn’t take back everything she said in my office today. 

Charlotte: A little praise never hurt anybody.

I whip my head over to her, and my hand wipes over my mouth as she smiles at me. The fact I’m blushing over the answer to the question I asked feels ridiculous. Why did I think this was a good idea? Making eye contact with someone at the bar who wants to order, I walk over to them. Taking their order and turning to grab all the bottles needed for it, I slide my phone from my pocket, setting it on the counter as she texts me again.  

Charlotte: Do you always like to be the Captain? Or do you like to let others assist? 

My eyes shut while I take a deeper breath; why is she doing this to me? Forcing myself to focus on mixing their drink, but my brain feels like it’s short-circuiting. She did have a little dominant streak in her yesterday. I grab a napkin and bring the drink back over to them, nodding as they thank me. 

‘All for me, baby?’ plays in my head, and I guess I had never thought about preferences like that before. Most girls I had been with at this point wanted nothing to do with being in control. I also was typically not the most sober in these instances, so it’s debatable how dominant I even was. They just wanted me to do the work, which in the grand scheme, was fine. 

The way that she wants to have control makes my body tingle. Something about the idea of her telling me what she wants me to do is kind of hot. She basically had me begging for her yesterday, so maybe I’m a bit more submissive than I thought. I get head one time, and I’m reflecting on my entire sex life. Jesus Christ, chill out. 

Me: I’ll gladly let you steer anyday, don’t have to ask twice 

I wipe down the back counter, reorganizing a bit, anything to keep my brain from spiraling out of control over her. I wash some glasses in painfully hot water in hopes that it’ll prevent anything uncomfortable from happening to me while I’m just trying to get through this shift with her. 

After a few minutes of torture, I pick up my phone again. 

Charlotte: In that case, meet me in the bathroom? 

I’ve never replied faster.

Me: 🫡  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Couldn’t wait any longer?” Winking at her as I lock the door behind me. 

Her smile is devious as she runs her hands up my chest, “When you look like this? Not at all.” Tugging me closer by my shirt, tilting her head back as I lean in to kiss her. 

All I can think is how lucky I am that I’m in this weird little situation with her. The fact that she’s communicating things to me, even if we’re doing it in a kind of vague way, makes me feel a little more confident with anything that’s potentially going to happen. 

Pulling away from the kiss for a second, I gently move some hair away from her face, just taking her in. My other hand is holding her lower back, keeping her close. The way she’s looking at me makes my heart pound. 

“Can I ask you something while we're here?” I mumble, watching her eyebrows pull together. 

“Obviously.” 

“I just want to hear your response to this one,” I start. “Can you promise me that if I say or do something that you don’t like, you’ll tell me?” 

Her eyes softened at the question. Her hands grabbed the sides of my face as she pressed a soft peck against my lips.

“Of course, I will. Promise.” 

“I never want to make you uncomfortable,” I mumble against her, “okay?” 

Her soft laugh against my lips before pressing a few sweet kisses into me, I swear this girl could get me to fold so easily. 

“You really are something, Jacob.” 

My stomach flips as the sentence leaves her lips. My heartbeat felt stronger than before, and my mouth basically ran dry; what is she doing to me? The look in her eyes as we stared at each other in the subtle glow of the light, even after the past few days, I’d be lying if I said she didn’t still make me nervous. Every kiss makes it feel like there are fireworks in my chest and a ton of excited butterflies in my stomach; my entire body gets warm, and I have to fight the slight tremor in my hands, so she doesn’t know. But god, this girl has me stumbling over myself every day.

“What if we just stay in here for the rest of the night?” I whisper into her.

Her hands slid down onto my stomach, “I think they might notice we’ve disappeared.” 

“Unfortunate, innit?” the English accent sneaking out of me, making her laugh. If that’s all it takes, I’ll use it more. “Why don’t you go back out there first? I’ll go to the backroom first, so it’s more convincing.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Captain,” she winks as she pats my stomach and then quickly sneaks out the door. Leaving me there, speechless, staring at the door for a moment. I think I just tripped.

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I hid in the backroom for a few minutes, bringing out a handful of things to restock with. I try to wipe the smile off my face when I can feel her eyes on me. I have Mel run to the tables and get some drink orders taken care of; she’s been trapped behind the bar all night, at least get her a few minutes of a new scenery. 

It feels nice to make drinks mindlessly for customers sometimes. The muscle memory starts to kick in, and I can just go for a while. It’s just a bonus having Charlotte sitting at the end of the bar, intently watching every move I make.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching Melody?” I tease, sliding a drink to her. 

Her hands rake through her curls, softly laughing as she says, “Well, she isn’t making drinks right now, is she?” 

“So you’re making sure I know what I’m doing then?”

“Something like that,” she says, biting her lip subtly. The goosebumps erupt on my arms instantly when she does that. 

Folding my arms across my chest, I look at her to ask, “Anything notable?” 

She slides her paper out for a second, quickly tucking it away so I can’t see what she’s written down. Sneaky little thing.

“You seem good.. with your hands,” she tilts her head slightly, slowly blinking at me. I can’t stop myself from smirking at the comment. I had noticed before that she watched my hands, but nothing was more validating than that comment. 

I step closer to the bar, leaning towards her a little so I can whisper, “Guess you’ll have to find out.” I watch her jaw slack at my comment, chuckling to myself. Seeing her flustered makes me feel less insane for being so antsy all night. The way she shifts in her seat as I look at her, I don’t think someone has ever reacted to my stare like this before. 

We spend the rest of Mel’s shift making unbearably tense eye contact, which makes me want to get her alone even more. She stayed for a little longer after Melody left, but I practically begged her to get home before it was too late. Something about the thought of her trying to drive in the Old Port when all the late-night bargoers are out just makes me nervous. 

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After what has seemingly become our nightly routine of walking her to her car, with the new bonus of getting to kiss her before she leaves, I’m met with an empty apartment. 

She won’t be home for a little bit. I pull open the fridge staring mindlessly, realizing that I’m not even really hungry. Taking the opportunity since Josh isn’t home, I wander into the bathroom, starting the shower. 

I stood under the hot water, letting it beat against me for a moment. My brain runs rampant with thoughts of her, still unable to process that she’s giving me any time, let alone wanting to spend more time with me. 

My eyes close as I think of the way she touches me; her hands are so delicate, and she’s so careful. Her hands always find a spot on my chest or stomach when she kisses me. Grabbing fistfuls of my shirt when we make out. Her lips though— those are something to write home about. God, I really was touch starved. 

My heart flutters at the thought of her kiss and how good it felt with her. Even when she was just leaving tiny pecks down my neck, I swear I could get goosebumps just from the memory. It had been so long since I even had the option I forgot how exciting it was. 

The thought of her sitting on my lap, her hands tangled into my hair, god. I feel the twitch, trying to ignore it. No, don’t be weird, Jake. Just think about something else. Rinsing the shampoo out of my hair and trying to refocus, but all I can hear in my head is, “all for me, baby?” A small groan comes from me, and I can’t stop myself from sliding my cock through my fist to relieve some of the tension. 

Her lips wrapped around me, the way she seemed like she was enjoying it, and her little moans as she slid me as deep into her mouth as she could. 

“Fuck,” I mutter, stroking myself a little faster. The visual of her on her knees for me has me reaching out to hold myself up. How is she real?

My hips jerked forward as I heard her voice in my head saying, “Come on, Captain.” 

Another moan sneaks out, my eyes fixed shut at this point, wishing she were here. God, she was so good. The way she swirled her tongue around me, her hair wrapped around my fist. Her green eyes look up at me as she takes just about all of me into her mouth, holy shit, I’m–.

“Fuck me, Charlotte,” I quietly groan as my orgasm washes over me. The water is hardly even warm at this point, while I frantically clean myself off to avoid a cold shower— that’s five minutes too late. 

Tapping my phone as I’m drying myself off. One Missed Call. Unlocking it instantly, seeing her name sitting there, I call her back with no hesitation. Is she okay? She hasn’t called me until she’s home before. 

“Hiii,” her soft voice dances around in my ear. 

“Hey, are you okay?” I spit out, knowing I probably sound insane. 

“Oh! Yes, everything’s fine! I'm just still driving,” she replies; a sigh of relief escapes me, grateful that she’s okay. Until all my nerves come flooding back when she says, “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 

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Chapter Twelve

Chapter Fourteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[depressedstressedlemonzest]

Tag Game Tuesday (but make it Thursday) ♥️

Tagged by @sleepyfacetoughguy to do this special Valentine's Day tag game. Thank you 💞💞💞

Relationship status: married

Your ultimate OTP: Gallavich for sure. I mean Ineffable Husbands and Hellcheer are also ships I'll die on, but Gallavich? C'mon there's no comparing them to anyone else.

Favorite trope: gumpy/sunshine, marriage of convenience, only one bed, soulmate universes, flower shop/tattoo shop...

I love em all.

Favorite candy: It changes a lot, chocolate is usually the best contender.

Favorite flower: Daffodils, which will soon be added to my walking garden of tattoos thanks to @suzy-queued

A song you love: Dandelions by Ruth B, Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold, Record Player by Daisy the Great, and Light my Love by Greta Van Fleet

A movie you adore: I'm going rom-com in honour of Valentine's (like @sleepyfacetoughguy) When Harry Met Sally and You've Got Mail

Red or pink? red

Breakfast in bed or brunch at a cafe? hmm, I don't like eating in bed, but I also don't like leaving my house much. Soooo if it's my favorite breakfast, and made by someone who isn't me, then breakfast in bed. If it's something that sounds fucking awesome and I have a couple days to prepare then cafe.

Romantic comedy or angsty drama? romantic comedy

And finally, in the spirit of love, leave some kind words for your followers & friends: I'm super blessed to have you all and be able to count most of you as friends, and some of you super close friends!

I'll tag @suzy-queued @juliakayyy @energievie @xninetiestrendx @heymrspatel and @arrowflier

[rachiekiszka]

Surprise! (Valentine’s Series)

Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

You think you’ll be spending Valentine’s Day alone, until your boyfriend Sam shows up unexpectedly.

Words~2.7k

Warnings: Explicit Content 18+, Alcohol use, Oral Sex (M. and F. Receiving), Unprotected Sex, Swearing

You sat in bed under a pile of blankets. A bag of chocolate in your left hand, TV remote in your right. You flicked through the selection of rom-coms on Netflix, trying to pick the perfect mix of funny and soul crushing. You had already polished off a whole bottle of wine; If you were going to be alone on Valentine's Day you sure as hell weren’t going to be sober. 

You weren’t alone, alone. Your boyfriend Sam was on tour with his band Greta Van Fleet. He had tried to make it home to see you, but with their current schedule he just couldn’t swing it. You didn't have enough PTO to take days off of work to follow him on tour either. So, you were alone. 

You sighed as you checked your phone again. Still no messages from Sam. You knew he was busy, but you hadn’t heard from him all day. On Valentine’s Day. That stung. He hadn’t even bothered to have flowers delivered, or post something cheesy on Instagram. So you decided on a drunken viewing of The Notebook, always the best choice for a good cry. 

It was about halfway through the movie, your ratty old pajama shirt now tear stained, that you heard a knock on the door. Not expecting anyone, you stood up slowly, walking over to look through the peephole. You weren't expecting to let whoever it was in, so you didn't bother to put on pants. As you looked through the peephole you were met with the view of a very excited looking Sam, rocking back and forth on his feet anxiously waiting for you to answer the door. He held a bouquet of roses in one hand, and a suitcase in the other. This made you smile because you knew he’d be staying with you a day or two if he brought his whole suitcase along. 

You pulled the door open and Sam’s eyes immediately trailed down your body. You remembered you weren't wearing any pants giving him the perfect view of your lacy pink underwear. It was also in this moment that you remembered you were mad at Sam. It was obvious he had wanted to surprise you, but it still hurt that he had ignored you all day. You stepped back, allowing him to enter your small apartment, not meeting his smile as he walked through the door. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day” He said, handing you the bouquet of roses he had been holding. 

His soft smile quickly turned into a frown when he realized you were crying. The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions. You were happy to see Sam, happy that he had taken the opportunity to surprise you, that he hadn’t forgotten you all day. But there was still some part of you inside that felt neglected and overwhelmed by the situation. 

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Sam took a tentative step forward, reaching out to gently tuck your hair behind your ear. 

You leaned into him, allowing yourself to feel his body heat, to acknowledge that he was really there. 

“I just, I thought you forgot about me when I didn’t hear from you all day.” You managed, burying your head in his chest. 

Sam wrapped his arms around you, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m so sorry love, I wanted it to be a surprise. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret if I was talking to you, I would’ve gotten too excited. But the surprise doesn’t end here. I’ve got some stuff for you in my suitcase. You wanna see?”

You pulled away, nodding. A slight grin growing across your face.

Sam opened up his suitcase, pulling out a satin slip dress in a dark maroon color.

“It’s beautiful, but where would I wear it?”

“To the dinner reservations we have in…” He paused, checking the time on his phone, “An hour. And one more thing.” He continued, holding up his finger, rifling through his suitcase again. 

He pulled out a small velvet jewelry box, handing it to you expectantly. Inside was a gold chain with a letter S hanging from it. 

“S for Sam?” You asked, the corners of your mouth turning up into a smile.

“Yeah, if you want to wear it. I figured it could remind you of me when I’m away” Sam said quickly, a blush rising in his cheeks. 

“Of course I’ll wear it, could you?” You said, gesturing for Sam to put the necklace on you.

He took the necklace from your hands, pushing your hair aside. You could feel his hot breath on your neck as he leaned in, focused on the necklace clasp. You knew you didn’t have time to play out any of the dirty thoughts racing through your brain at that moment, but you would be filing them away for later. It had been a few weeks since you’d seen Sam, and you had missed his touch. And well, admittedly other parts of his body. Sam let the necklace go, and it fell perfectly against your chest. 

“I’d better go get dressed if we want to make that reservation.” You grabbed the new dress Sam had handed you and headed for your bedroom.

“Y/N?” Sammy called after you, causing you to pause and turn around. “Could you um, keep that underwear on?”

You simply answered with a cheeky grin and a wink, closing your bedroom door behind you. 

Knowing it would be cold in the February night air, you opted to layer tights and a black turtleneck beneath your new dress, making sure to pull your necklace out so it fell over the shirt. You ran a brush through your hair and threw on as much makeup as possible in the amount of time you were given. Just enough to make it look like you hadn’t just been crying at the very least. 

When you emerged, Sam had changed too. He was now sporting a black button down over the black skinny jeans he had been wearing when he arrived.

“You look beautiful, Y/N” Sam said, pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Well, what can I say, you have an eye for fashion.” You replied, gesturing to the dress he had picked for you. 

~~~~~~

The restaurant Sam had chosen for dinner was fancier than you had expected. It was on the top floor of a highrise downtown, offering you a nice view of the city. Sam had caught you up on the highlights of the tour since you last saw each other, and recounted all the ways in which his brothers had almost ruined the surprise he had planned for you this evening. You sat across from him, sipping on a glass of wine despite having drunk a whole bottle earlier in the evening. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the dim lighting in the restaurant, but Sam had never looked better. 

“Love?” Sam said, breaking you from your thoughts. You looked at him expectantly. “You were staring at me pretty hard there,” he said, chuckling “Anything you want to share?”

“Nope” you replied, swallowing the remainder of your wine with a gulp. You peeked at him over the top of your glass as you did, giving him your best bedroom eyes. Sam shifted in his seat, noticing your expression.

You extended one leg under the table, running your foot along the inside of his leg. You reached experimentally higher, up the inside of his thigh, stopping just before the bulge in his tight pants. You watched his expression across the table darken. He leaned over and whispered in a voice only you could hear,

“You think you’re in charge? Just wait until we get home.”

You swallowed thickly, beginning to imagine what awaited you after dinner. You could already feel a wetness pooling in your panties. Under the table, Sammy took hold of your ankle, removing it from his lap, but not before running his fingers up your leg causing you to whimper.

“Sam!” you hissed. “We're in public!”

“Funny,” he said “That didn't seem to bother you when I was the one being teased.”

You struggled through the rest of dinner, keeping your thighs clenched together hoping to relieve some of the ache between your legs. Sam watched you with a knowing smirk, being sure to play with his rings when he knew you were looking. He knew that drove you wild.

So, when the waiter came around and asked if you were interested in any desserts you took the chance to tease him back. As badly as you wanted to go home and let him rail you, you thought he deserved to feel just as worked up as you were. You ordered a brownie topped with ice cream. You made a show of it, making eye contact as you seductively wrapped your tongue around the spoon. Sam glowered at you across the table growing impatient. As soon as you were done Sam stood from the table, hastily throwing down more than enough cash to cover the bill.

“Let’s go” he practically growled, his voice low.

On the car ride back to your apartment Sam placed his hand firmly on your thigh, fingers ghosting over your core through the thin fabric of your tights. When you attempted to buck your hips up against his hand, desperate for more pressure, he pulled away. Unable to control your movements, and wanting to get a reaction out of Sam as well, you slipped your own hand under the waistband of your tights. You spread your legs, putting your feet up on the dash, and catching Sam’s attention. You began circling your clit, your cheeks becoming pink as your breathing faltered. Sam looked at you with lust in his eyes, quickly pressing a hand to his growing erection. 

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself” He said, pulling into your apartment complex.

“Then make me stop” You replied, your fingers still working you towards orgasm.

Sam's hand shot out to your wrist, stopping your movements. You whined at the loss of sensation.

“You’re such a little slut. Can’t believe I thought I could take you out for a nice dinner. Teasing me all night. The things I’m going to do to you.”

The two of you raced upstairs at record speed, barely making it through the door before Sam had you pinned up against the wall. He brought his knee between your legs, spreading them apart as he kissed down your neck. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin in a way you knew was sure to leave a mark. You ground yourself down onto his thigh, still pressed in between your legs, causing you to let out a moan. Sam reacted to the sound, quickly pulling up your dress, exposing the waistband of your tights in full. He pulled your tights down aggressively, ripping them in the process. He grunted out a “sorry” before kneeling in front of you. 

“Look at you, still wearing the underwear just like I asked.” He said, licking a stripe down the center of your most sensitive area though the thin fabric of your lace panties. You moaned in pleasure throwing your head back against the wall.

“It's really too bad you couldn’t behave yourself at dinner.” he continued, pulling your underwear aside and shoving two fingers deep inside you without warning causing you to cry out in a mix of shock and satisfaction. 

He moved his fingers in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace, using his mouth to work at your clit, swirling his tongue against the swollen bundle of nerves. Your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging at the roots lightly. As if this spurred him on, he quickened the rhythm of his fingers causing your legs to shake beneath you. 

“Sammy, please, I’m-I’m so close”

At your words he pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean. You stared down at him in disbelief.

“Good girls get to cum.” He said, giving you a little shrug. “Show me how good you can be.”

You knew what he wanted, dropping to your knees in front of him. You undid his jeans, slipping your fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers and tugging both garments down in one motion. His cock sprung free, already glistening with precum. You took him in your hand pumping up and down a few times before licking a stripe up the shaft, eventually circling your tongue around the sensitive tip. You took him in fully, then, setting an even rhythm. You had to use your mouth and hand in tandem to accommodate for his large size. Sam’s hands settled at the back of your head, holding you in place as he took control of the pace, fucking into your mouth. He hit the back of your throat, causing tears to well in the corners of your eyes and triggering your gag reflex. Sam pulled himself out of your mouth to allow you to recover, praising you.

“You're being such a good girl for me now. You take it so well, nobody does it like you, love.”

He gestured for you to stand leading you towards the bedroom. He pushed you down onto the bed, pulling your dress and top over your head. He was careful not to tug at your new necklace, still dangling delicately over your chest. Sam stared down at your now exposed bare breasts, you had opted not to wear a bra tonight. You reached up to him, unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed you hungrily, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip. You allowed his tongue entrance parting your lips and letting out a moan into his mouth. Sam broke the kiss as he pulled his shirt off his shoulders, leaning over you to take your breast into his mouth. He ran his tongue over your nipple, feeling it harden. With his hand, he massaged your other breast, giving them equal attention. Your back arched beneath you, unable to keep still at the varied mix of sensations. 

“Sammy, please, fuck me.” Your voice came out weak and desperate, but you suppose that's because you were. 

Sam obliged your request, hooking his fingers under your panties and pulling them down, pressing a kiss to your ankle and he tossed them aside. He lined himself up at your entrance, running himself through your slick a few times before pushing into you. You both gasped as he filled you up, your nails digging into his back as he began pumping in and out of you. Your hand snaked down your body, reaching out to circle your clit while he was inside of you. You were approaching your orgasm quickly and you could already feel your walls beginning to clench around him. 

“C’mon love, you’ve been good. Cum for me. Show me how good I make you feel” Sam said, snapping his hips against yours at a borderline unbearable pace.

Your orgasm came on strong, your legs going limp as you let out a string of curses. Sam continued drilling into you, still chasing his own high, giving you little time to recover. His orgasm soon followed, you felt his warm release coat your walls as his long hair fell against your face.

“Fuck love, I’ve been waiting for this for weeks” 

“Me too, I’m glad you came to surprise me” 

Sam pulled out of you, ducking into the bathroom and returning with a towel to clean you up.

You smiled as he crawled back into bed next to you, pulling your head against his chest. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day babe” You say, content, pressed up against Sam. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he replied, running his fingers gently through your hair “You know, my necklace looks pretty good hanging from your neck with nothing else on”

You feigned shock, placing your hand over your heart.

“My goodness! And you accused me of being a slut?You dirty boy!”

This sent the two of you into a fit of laughter, quite a far turn from how you expected your evening to go, but you couldn’t be any happier with Sam by your side. 

[gretavandutchy]

blue hour | three

{sam kiszka x fem!reader} blue hour is the short period of time before sunrise or after sunset when the sun is just below the horizon. indirect sunlight is evenly diffused and takes on a blue shade.

summary: traveling the world as greta van fleet’s touring photographer seemed like a dream come true, but as the days pass you worry it may just be your worst nightmare. work is rapidly merging with pleasure, and as feelings change you’re left to wonder: does what happens on tour really stay on tour?

word count: 6k

warnings: language, marijuana

The day of your departure to meet up with the band arrived faster than you’d expected. Despite the fact that you’d been buzzing around for weeks on end getting everything in order, it still felt as if the day had crept up on you out of the blue. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t prepared, or that you were running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but you were panicking if only slightly.

This time, the panic was not due to your own idiocy or any sense of urgency. Merely, the reality of it all seemed to finally be worming its way into your head. Before that day, it almost seemed like a dream. It was something that was too good to be true, and only now was it starting to sink in that it was happening. You were going on the road with one of your favorite bands, and living your dream.

You were just trying to keep the anxiety under wraps, at least for Kyle’s sake. While he’d been fairly confident in you, encouraging you and supporting you throughout the days after the call, it was like things were only just starting to click for him too. Each day that had passed had seen him grow a little more anxious, a little more unsure, and now that the morning of your flight had arrived he was outright panicking.

It was more than a little strange having to be the sensible, calm party in the relationship for once. Usually, it was Kyle who had to constantly reassure you and keep you from going off the rails entirely, but today your attention had to abandon your own anxieties to keep him under control. You were pretty sure he was one misstep away from having a total breakdown, and a part of you was wondering if this was how he always felt just beneath his cool exterior.

Had he always been so anxious and neurotic? You didn’t think so, but perhaps he’d just learned to hide it better than you ever had. Either way, you were getting a very solid lesson in controlling your nerves that day.

Kyle was meant to drop you off at the airport, and yet you were the one to drive there because his hands were shaking so forcefully you didn’t exactly trust him to keep control over a vehicle. He was a mess of apologies and embarrassment, but you just smiled and told him it was endearing that he was so worried about you. It was, in a way, endearing.

It was endearing because you knew his worries, and fears, and anxieties were not due to his uncertainty in you. He didn’t feel those things because he doubted you, or thought that there was even a chance that things would go wrong for you. Rather, he was simply anxious to be away from you. He was sad to see you go, and know that you’d be gone for so long, and a part of you felt all of those things, too.

You were sad that you’d be away from him for months. You were sad that while you were out traveling the country, and possibly even the world, he would still be in that little apartment just waiting for you to get back. Some part of you wished that he could have come along, to share in the experience with you, but you knew it wasn’t an option.

Plus, you weren’t entirely sure he’d have enjoyed it anyways. There were many things that you and Kyle connected and bonded over. You both loved daytime television, shitty rom-coms, and a good glass of wine. You both loved warm cuddles on a lazy morning, the smell in the air just before it rained, and staying in on a good night to go out.

But, music? Photography? Those weren’t things that you shared. Your tastes in music were very eclectic and inspired, formed over years of exposing yourself to everything and anything that you could get your hands on to listen to. You all but despised the radio, and there was rarely a time that you ever listened to it. Kyle, though, didn’t really have much of an opinion when it came to music. He listened to whatever played over the radio waves and didn’t kick up a fuss.

Photography was much the same. He could appreciate a good picture, one that was pretty to look at, but that was it. His attention to detail as far as anything abstract, and centered in feeling or creativity rather than logic was lacking.

You didn’t love him any less for it, but that didn’t mean you didn’t occasionally long for that connection with him. Sometimes it could be hard to not have that sort of understanding with him. It got hard when you wanted to share something that inspired you, or moved you, or simply pleased you in some way, only to find that he just didn’t get it at all. He tried, he really did, but it just wasn’t his thing, just like business and finances weren’t your thing.

On some level, that fact may have had more to do with your decision to accept the job than you wanted to admit. For at least a few months, you’d be out living your dream and you’d actually be able to share in that joy with somebody who understood. You already knew that connection existed with the four band members that would be your muses for the duration, but there would hopefully be others, too.

The prospect of finding that commonality with someone again was thrilling. Sure, you had Dorothy back home, but there could be more. For years, ever since your mother had passed away, you’d felt disconnected in some sense. It was like that one true bond, that one tether of a mutual passion shared with someone who felt it and desired it just as intensely as you did had been severed. You were adrift, constantly seeking out that familiar attachment again.

You parked at the airport with a little over an hour until your flight to Detroit was scheduled to take off, and Kyle looked somber. “Well, we made it.” you mumbled lamely, and suddenly all the nerves caught up with you, “Oh, God, what am I doing? I can’t do this! Let’s just–let’s just go home, and I’ll call Adam and tell him–”

“As much as I’d love to turn this car around and take you home,” Kyle sighed, “I can’t let you do that. You’re getting on that plane even if I have to buy a ticket just to drag you onto it.”

You knew that you didn’t have the time to be procrastinating like you were, but as a wave of anxiety crashed over you and made your gut churn, you couldn’t stop yourself from dropping your forehead onto the steering wheel with a groan. Kyle wasn’t faring much better, looking a little green as he sat beside you and stared out the windshield with a frown he was trying his absolute hardest to hide. You could see it in the way his lips twitched, the corners lifting jerkily before slowly slipping back down toward his chin.

The two of you had never been apart for so long before. In fact, you weren’t sure you could point out a single week in the entire history of your relationship where you hadn’t seen each other at least once. So, the prospect of being away from each other for months on end was entirely foreign and unprecedented. You had no idea how to even make a long-distance relationship, especially after years of being entirely wrapped up in each other.

It had to be even harder to imagine for him, though. You had something to look forward to in leaving. You had a dream that you were chasing, and plenty of new and exciting experiences to occupy your time, heart, and mind while you were away. But, Kyle? Well, Kyle really only had the distant date of your return to look forward to.

A part of you felt guilty over that, you had to admit. A small part of you felt horrible that you were leaving him behind in order to chase your dreams, knowing that he was incredibly saddened over it but trying his best to keep that from you. He didn’t want you to see how disheartened he really was, because he knew that you’d let the guilt eat you alive, and somehow that only made it worse.

By the time you made it into the airport, and it was finally time to part ways, there really wasn’t any hiding it. His blue eyes were reddened slightly, bloodshot with unshed tears, and you could see the way his lips wobbled each time he released the tension in his jaw. Still, he forced a smile that was just shy of convincing and held your cheeks in his hands as he looked into your eyes like he was trying to memorize them.

“You’re going to be amazing, babe.” he stated, honestly and tenderly, and you held his wrists with shaking fingers as he dipped down to press his lips to yours. It was a sweet and chaste kiss, an embrace that was full of love and longing, but he cut it short before you could get too caught up in him. “Call me when you land, okay?”

You nodded, blinking away the tears that stung at your eyes, and you let out a breathy sigh as his thumbs caressed the highest points of your cheeks. “Okay.” you agreed quietly, and with one last kiss, he pushed you in the direction you were meant to go. He waited for you to move first, but after a few seconds of staring at each other as you remained rooted in place, Kyle was the one to walk away. You watched as he took steady paces away from you, eventually disappearing into the sea of strangers before you, and you were surprised when it didn’t hurt as much as you had anticipated.

There was a dull ache in your chest, the uncomfortable feeling that something was missing following his departure, but as you turned around and took your own steps toward your future, it didn’t linger long. You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, if it meant anything at all, but an incoming message from Adam confirming you were flying out took your mind off of it in an instant. All you could think about as you waited to board your flight was your excitement, eagerly looking forward to your first night of live music that you’d try your hardest to capture.

+++

Throughout the entire flight, you worried as to whether you'd recognize Adam well enough to pick him out of a crowd, but you were relieved to find that wasn't necessary. As you made your way out of the baggage claim to the pick-up, you spotted him rather quickly due to a large sign with your name on it--and you were pleased to see that you did, in fact, recognize him. Vaguely the memory of his presence at the shoot swam around the back of your mind, and you greeted him with a timid smile and a small wave.

The woman beside him, though, was not content with such a bland welcome. She had messy waves of multi-colored hair that spilled across her shoulders, and a pierced smile that forced deep smile lines and crows feet into her tanned skin. "Welcome aboard, babycakes!" she cooed as she threw her arms around you like the two of you were old friends, "I'm Pidgeon, but everyone calls me Pidge--you and I are gonna be working together a lot."

Her name gave you pause, wondering if it was her birth name or simply a chosen one, but you didn't have long to dwell on the thoughts before she was dragging your bag from your grip and slinging it over her own shoulder. She reached for the reinforced pack on your other shoulder, the one that held your camera and all of your gear, but you waved her away with a greeting that you hoped didn't sound too nervous, "I got it, thanks. Nice to meet you, Pidge, I'm (Y/N)."

"You're too cute!" she sighed, and you could practically feel the waves of energy that radiated off of her as she informed you, "Don't get too attached to your name, hun, 'cause soon enough you'll have a new one. Everyone gets a tour name, that's the rules."

Before you could ask whether or not Pidge or Pidgeon was her tour name, Adam was checking the time on his phone and urging, "As much as I'd like to ease you into this, (Y/N), I'm afraid we don't have the time. I've got an hour to get that contract signed before we all need to be at the venue, and if we don't hurry up who knows what those animals will get up to."

As the two of them led you to the waiting car, a rather swanky Cadillac rental, you took a moment to mentally prepare. You had less than an hour left before you signed the papers that would change your life forever, and the butterflies in your belly were buzzing wildly at the thought. In a matter of minutes, you'd officially have your dream job--you'd officially be embarking on the beginning of the rest of your life.

It was a crazy thought. Over the years, you'd pictured the moment endlessly. You'd fantasized what it would be like to finally get that big break, to finally get that job that always seemed too far out of reach to even be possible. As you grew older, the fantasy always seemed to change to accommodate the years of time you expected to pass before it would arrive.

As a girl, you'd imagined it would happen when you finally graduated from school. After you graduated, you imagined it would come about once you'd gotten your degree. But, after you'd made the choice to forego college in an attempt to get there faster, it only seemed that much further away.

After this job, after Kyle graduates, after this internship, after, after, after. In all honesty, you'd begun to think that perhaps it would never come. Your dreams of the beginning of the rest of your life had shifted to mean something more attainable, like the day you'd finally get engaged, or the day you'd get married, or the day you'd have your first child.

Now, though, now that you were finally getting that chance you feared would never come... you knew in your heart that this was the rest of your life. This was what you were meant to be doing, what you'd always been meant to do, and even as you were muddled with anxiety and fear of the unknown, you were ready to face it head-on. No matter what happened, whether you succeeded or not, you were ready for it all.

The whole process went by in a blur that was significantly less magical than the wild fantasies you'd conjured up over the weeks leading up to your arrival. Adam gave you a rapid-fire rundown of what your job entailed, who you'd be working with, and what to expect out of life on the road as he weaved his way through the Detroit traffic to the hotel. Pidge was the videographer, and aside from a few techs that worked alongside the two of you, you both were the sole people tasked with capturing the moments to live on forever.

Apparently, the man who you were replacing had quit unexpectedly after he proposed to his girlfriend citing a desire to settle down. The thought of that struck you as preposterous, and for a fleeting moment, your gut clenched as you wondered whether that would ever be a decision you were forced to make. You didn't let the thought linger for long, choosing to focus on the present instead.

You listened intently as he told you about bus life and the fact that the band members were really the only ones who traveled in the beast of a vehicle. The rest of you followed behind in vans, though there were a couple extra bunks on the bus for anyone who really needed them. Pidge piped up to say she often crashed because the guys got pretty rowdy on the bus, and she wiggled her eyebrows at you deviously when you giggled like it was a joke.

If it was possible, you all got hotel rooms. Sometimes the band would travel on to the next city before the crew did for press and promotional purposes, and in those cases, you were expected to load yourself onto the bus right along with them. The crew was never more than a night behind, though, and most often you'd end up in hotel rooms for at least a few hours to catch up on sleep.

As far as your job was concerned, there wasn't much to go on. Most stringently you were expected to photograph the performances, but anything else was left up to you--if it seemed worthy of being memorialized, then you were expected to make the call and take the shot. Already you were considering taking your camera everywhere because from your own perspective as a fan, everything was worthy.

As well as performances, you were also expected to capture whatever was possible at interviews, promotional opportunities, and press events. They'd have their own photographers and videographers recording it all, but it was always nice for the band to have a little piece of it for themselves. You nearly fainted when he told you that most of that would probably entail capturing little things for the band's Instagram account, promising to give you the details for it before it was necessary.

It was a mad dash through the hotel, with only a brief pitstop at the desk to get you checked in and a cursory glance into your room to drop off your luggage that went by so fast you worried you wouldn't remember the room number when you returned for the night. You kept your camera and gear over your shoulder, speedwalking down the halls until Adam stopped abruptly before another door and left it open behind him for you to follow. Your calves were burning, and you were starting to understand why Pidge had decided to wait in the car for your return.

"You read over the PDF I emailed you, right?" he asked, shooting a sparing glance over his shoulder before he began to dig through a bag on the dresser just inside the room. When you nodded, he breathed, "Great, then there's no reason to read it all again now."

With that, he slapped the thick stack of papers on the wooden surface and clicked his pen, flicking through the stapled forms and signing a few lines himself before scooting aside to make room for you. The pen felt like a lead weight as you took it from him, and your heart was racing, but you smiled as you asked, "Where do I sign?"

Four signatures, three initials, and seven dates later you were officially Greta Van Fleet's touring photographer for the next few months. You couldn't wipe the grin off of your face as you raced out of the hotel just behind him, a skip in your step and a weight off your back that you'd never even realized was there. The sun felt a little warmer as it beamed down on you when you made it outside, and you were the happiest you'd ever been.

Pidge beamed back at you from within the car, turning around with a dazzling smile that was full of mischief to face you as you slipped into the backseat with a sigh of contentment. "How do you feel about Dove, sugar?" she asked, cinnamon eyes sparkling, "You seem like a dove to me, and us birds gotta stick together out here on the road."

You didn't hesitate as you exulted, "Sounds perfect."

"Alright, birds," Adam huffed, though you could see the amused smile that twitched at his lips, "if you're done ruffling your feathers, we gotta fly. Let's get this show on the road."

Pidge laughed loudly, throwing her head back unabashedly as she crowed, "Punny. I like it."

+++

The venue was already chaotic when you arrived, the crew buzzing about methodically as they worked to get everything set up for the first show of the tour. There was a small gathering of fans already waiting outside of the gates, mostly younger in age as there were still hours to go before the show began. The sight of it made your blood bubble with excitement, for the fleeting moment that you saw them sharing in the joy and avidity of seeing a live show.

Pidge went on her own way as you began to delve deeper into the arena, winking and promising to see you soon before Adam dragged you away. He introduced you to a flurry of people as they passed, spouting off names that you'd never remember that faces of as they continued on with their business with the briefest of greetings. Things grew calmer, though, as you made your way backstage and toward the dwellings of the band.

"Put your dicks away, fuckers," Adam shouted as he opened a door, a hazy cloud of smoke wafting out that made him cough, "I have one bird, freshly shipped and ready to work."

Apparently, he really got a kick out of the bird thing that Pidge had proclaimed amongst the two of you. "Bird? What are you--oh, hey! It's (Y/N)!" Josh was the first to spot you, grinning wildly as he pointed you out like the three other men wouldn't be able to figure out where to look.

You smiled back, waving at the four men who were lounging around the small dressing room and smoking cigarettes and other things like it was 1970. "Yeah, it is, and you all better put that shit out before you get caught and get another fine." Adam gruffed, scowling at the joint that wobbled between Sam's lips. "I don't want to deal with that shit on the first night."

"Alright, alright." Sam rolled his eyes, plucking the joint from his lips with a cough. Adam glared one last time before giving you an exasperated look, patting you firmly on the shoulder as he turned on his heels and sped off in search of something else to do. The moment their manager was gone, Sam lifted the joint back to his lips and took another deep drag before holding it out to you with raised eyebrows.

His voice was warbly and hoarse as he held the smoke in his lungs, offering, "Want a hit? Take the edge off of those first-day nerves?"

It was tempting, but you chuckled as you shook your head. "Probably not the best first impression." you told him, "Although, I have no idea where to find Pidge, though, so that might not be the greatest impression either."

Josh took the joint from his brother who pouted at the loss, offering you a disarming smile as he reassured, "She usually finds her way back here for this, so don't worry. She'll find you soon enough." You watched as he took his own puff, waving the wrapped bud around between his fingers for anyone else to take. When nobody reached for it, he shrugged and stubbed it out with a wheeze and a cough as the smoke finally trailed out of his nostrils.

"You can sit, you know." Sam teased, and you startled slightly in embarrassment as you realized you'd just been standing in the doorway staring at them. "Besides, we gotta close the door otherwise we'll get caught for sure."

You tried not to show how nervous you were as you closed the door, peering across the room as you tried to figure out where to sit. Josh, Jake, and Danny were strewn over the long sofa lazily, the latter plucking at a guitar with his eyes closed and a pipe discarded on his chest. Sam didn't leave you long to wonder, though, before he patted the small open space beside him on the much shorter sofa and pressed deeper into the arm to make more room for you.

His arm slung across the back of it as you eased onto the cushion, and he grinned at you with hooded eyes as he chatted, "Long time no see. How've you been?"

It was easy to blame the way his fingers toyed with your hair lazily on the fact that he was intoxicated. You didn't know how much the four of them had smoked, or how high he was, but you could definitely gather that he wasn't completely in his right mind by the way his eyes could barely stay open and his brown irises were framed by a spiderweb of bloodshot capillaries. Still, you moved away from the touch as subtly as you could.

He let his hand fall back onto the sofa without a care, and you shrugged, "Good, I guess. Better now that I'm not dealing with the assholes at The Heat."

"And Kyle?" he asked, "That was your boyfriend's name, right? Kyle?"

Nodding, you chuckled as you informed, "He's good, too. Sad that I'm going to be gone for so long, but we'll make it work." The question struck you as a little odd, considering Kyle had only been mentioned in passing to the guys when Marjorie had been shamelessly flirting with them, but you shrugged it off. It was a little sweet that they remembered and cared enough to ask about him.

He merely hummed in response, but before you could ponder the oddity of it too much the door opened again. Pidgeon barged in before quickly shutting it once more, and she smirked widely as she made eye contact with you, "Oh, there you are, little Dove! I was hoping I'd find you."

"Dove?" Danny acknowledged, and she repeated the name proudly, "That was fast for a tour name, Pidge. Why Dove?"

You were more than a little curious to know why she'd chosen Dove as your nickname, too, but you were disappointed when she teased, "That's for me to know, and you to never find out. It's a bird thing, Danny Boy." The guys merely rolled their eyes at her, and you laughed as she snatched up the discarded joint with a huff and held her hand out expectantly for a lighter that Jake was quick to hand over.

As Pidgeon collapsed onto the floor, leaning against the front of the couch and sparking the lighter a few times before the flame caught the joint, you took a moment to just admire it all. The dressing room really wasn't anything special, just a small room barely larger than a walk-in closet with no windows and scratchy carpet that was stained, it felt magical. You were backstage, with musicians you admired deeply, and you belonged there.

There was a rack that held various articles of clothing, no doubt the outfits the guys were meant to wear on stage that night, and your eyes trailed over them curiously as you leaned further back into the couch. Sam's fingers fiddled with your hair again, the knuckle of his thumb grazing over the back of your neck, but you paid it no mind. You were too busy letting the utterly preposterous reality of it all sink in.

It still felt like a dream. Pidgeon's voice cut through the haze of your thoughts, your eyes focusing on her through the cloud of smoke she blew as she asked, "Want some, Dove?"

You bit your lip. It was really tempting, and you knew that it would help immensely to ease the nervous twisting of your stomach. She waggled the joint at you coyly, grinning deviously as she waited for you to finally sigh, "Fuck it." They all cheered as you held your hand out, plucking the thinly wrapped bud from her fingers and placing it between your lips with a slow inhale.

Sam tugged it from between your lips after your second pull, popping it between his own with a wink. You tried to drag your eyes away from the way his lips wrapped around it, but ultimately it was only Pidgeon's cheers that managed to snap your attention away from the sight. "Welcome to the family, Dove! You're one of us now." she cooed, and you sank further into the couch as the subtle high began to wash over you, leaving you relaxed and ready for the work to begin.

+++

The first show of the tour went off without a hitch. You were drenched in sweat by the time it finished, your clothes sticking to your body and your hair clinging to your face and neck, but there was a grin on your face that just wouldn't fade. It was worth it to feel so gross, considering you were pretty sure you were up in the clouds.

You'd only allowed yourself to be nervous and uncertain for the first few minutes before you'd steeled yourself and taken the bull by its horns. You weren't going to succeed by needing your hand held, and you were determined to succeed. Failure wasn't an option.

So, after a few moments of standing just off the side of the stage with a churning in your gut, you dove in. You were breathless with how hard you were running around, buzzing all around the spaces available to you to snap picture after picture. At one point you'd even climbed over the barrier and into the audience, worming your way through cheering fans to get the shot you were after.

You'd climbed things you were pretty sure you were not permitted to climb, and you'd crawled all around the floor to get the right angles. In the end, you'd come away with a full memory card and a heart that was threatening to beat right out of your chest with overexertion. It was well worth it, though, and you were eager to do it all over again.

Pidge offered you a high-five and a hug despite your ragged, sweaty appearance, and you tried not to be bashful when she clicked through a few of the photos on your camera with spectacular praise. You did, however, grow flustered when she insisted on flagging down random crew members working on teardown to make them praise you too. They did, honestly from what you could tell, but you were quick to retrieve your camera after the second one.

Jake found you sitting on the side of the stage, draining your second bottle of water as you clicked through your photos with a fullness in your heart you hadn't expected. "Hey," he greeted, hair dripping with sweat and his shirt abandoned. He flopped down beside you, dangling his legs just like yours as Sam followed him out boisterously, "I take it, it went well?"

"I think so." you hummed, biting your lip to stifle a smile as you passed your camera to him just as Sam collapsed beside him. The butterflies came back in full force as the two of them clicked through your camera roll slowly, silently acknowledging each photo except for quiet noises they let out occasionally that apparently sufficed in place of words for them to understand. "Well?"

They let you stew in your anxiety for a few seconds longer before Sam finally grinned, cheering, "These are amazing! I saw you climbing the scaffolding at one point, and I thought you were insane--but now I can see why."

You returned his jubilant smile, beaming with pride. "Thanks." you returned sheepishly, "I don't like to just stand around. Sometimes you have to work to find the better angles, you know?"

"So you're insane, but with reason." Jake joked, and you nudged his shoulder with a laugh. "Really, though, you're insanely talented (Y/N). That's why we asked for you."

There was a heat that crawled across your skin, wrapping around your neck and climbing up your face as you flushed with appreciation and flattery. It would take time for you to accept that praise, especially from a group of men who inspired you greatly, but you hoped that one day you'd be able to accept the compliments with pride and grace. You hoped that one day you wouldn't need the compliments to know that for yourself.

As they continued to scroll their way through the photos, eventually joined by a significantly freshened up Josh and a still sweat-drenched Danny, Sam asked, "We're gonna hit a few bars to celebrate. Do you want to come with us? Pidge and some of the crew probably will, too."

You pondered it for a moment, but then you realized you'd never called Kyle and a twinge of guilt flared up within you. You didn't even have your phone with you to check and see if he'd tried calling, having left it in the hotel room, and you felt horrible as you realized you'd forgotten all about your promise to let him know when you landed due to your excitement. He was probably going crazy with worry, and your guilt only intensified when you knew in your heart that he'd let it all go just to listen to you gush about your night.

Although the offer was truly tempting, and you were buzzing with energy that could do with being let out over a few drinks in celebration, you knew that it could wait. You had months' worth of nights to go out and celebrate, but you only had one night to make it right with Kyle. So, you offered a somber smile as you denied, "I'm gonna head back to the hotel, actually. I promised Kyle I'd call him, and totally forgot to before the show."

Sam pursed his lips reproachfully, but he accepted your rejection nonetheless. "Next time, I guess." he shrugged, and you were happy to see his smile returned if only partially when you nodded eagerly.

You all split ways outside the venue, the four band members and Pidge clambering into a rental car that peeled out in search of a bar. You, however, clambered into a car with a yawning Adam who drove the two of you sleepily back to the hotel. He wished you a goodnight outside of your room, and your ears were ringing as you shut yourself inside of the small, silent space.

There were three missed calls from Kyle, and a lone text message letting you know he'd gone to bed but he would call in the morning. As expected, he was nothing but sweet. He said he figured you'd forgotten to call due to the chaos of the big day, and wished you luck but he knew you'd kill it regardless. With a simple I love you and a heart, he'd bid you goodnight with nothing but grace.

You wrote back a message apologizing profusely for forgetting, and promised you'd call him as soon as you woke up. You informed him you'd made it okay and survived the first night, but you'd save the details for tomorrow. With that, you returned his sentiments and bid him sweet dreams--and then you plugged your phone in before retrieving your laptop and memory card.

For hours you stayed up, going through the hundreds of photos you'd taken and amassing a collection of those you deemed to be the best. You spent a long time editing some of them, and even longer squealing with your face buried in your pillow as you tried to expel the energy that was bursting to be let out. It was all so surreal.

You'd smoked weed with your favorite band, for fuck's sake! The thought of it had you squealing all over again, kicking your legs around the bed like a little kid. If every night was going to be like that on tour, then you had no idea how you'd ever go back to a life like the one you'd been living before.

TAGLIST! @caravelstan @tripthelight-fanfic @barbariansgvf @brokenbellz @sing-against-the-sky @stardustdanny @dannythedog @peterr-parkourr @stardust-and-shadows @trafficwasabitch @screechesincoherently @fleetsonfire @honor-gvf @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @lupinevanfleet @oyoke @celestialfauna @luverleaver if you'd like to be added, send an ask! (please specify if it's only for the series!)

[hay-is-gay]

open your spotify "on repeat" and the first five songs are the soundtrack to your personal rom-com

tagged by @thekitchenandthemoon

1. https://open.spotify.com/track/5pteD2j5hzE9qeP8BrVT1o?si=rb8-6VOmSGOkXT0EZtkiZA&dl_branch=1

2. https://open.spotify.com/track/2AT8iROs4FQueDv2c8q2KE?si=dFXZQpDSTi6H92HsT5JOyQ&dl_branch=1

3. https://open.spotify.com/track/0zlaa4AmbFE7MVDijsyD9Q?si=8QOzkF6vRRSZ3c-dv00rsw&dl_branch=1

4. https://open.spotify.com/track/7KZu6KVTm5cQ1XOz1iOWoX?si=zi0KpY9XRuiWDOGaxUts5A&dl_branch=1

5. https://open.spotify.com/track/5RhFmJifQe83FpQ6ZFFTZ5?si=0m4Kl_lSRcyEvTtwpjE_ww&dl_branch=1

powerful soundtrack omg.

@timetogetoutofkansasdorothy & @sike101 (if u wanna do this !)

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Eleven

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: MORE FLUFF, a bit of anxiety (good & bad) , intrusive thoughts, a little flirting, and Jacob is smooth as HELL this chapter folks. (I simply don't have a lot of warnings for you this week but we are RAPIDLY approaching the chapters that will have warnings do not fret, my loves!)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Charlotte battles her silly little brain about what happened, deciding to confide in one of our favorite people. They help her rationalize a little and boy does that pan out nicely for Miss Charlotte.

Author's Note: I love them, I love them, I love them. I was kicking my feet and blushing while writing this chapter, honestly! They are so so cute together and we are getting into the fun part of the story and I'm excited for you guys to enjoy it with me 🤭💕

You're Not Special, Babe - Orla Gartland "Some people don't stick around, But, don't let yourself down. Find the ones that get you, Stick to them like hot glue."

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

I can hear my phone vibrating in the other room as I make my coffee. Who would be texting me this early? Well, other than Jacob, he seemingly just never sleeps. I grab the mug carefully, taking little sips as I head back to my couch to continue getting some work done. 

Quinn: Gooooooooodmorning Charmander! 

Quinn: Is there something I should know? 

Quinn: I just got to the boy’s apartment to surprise Josh and Jake is smiling like the Cheshire Cat at his coffee 😌

I feel my smile start to sneak out; that’s so cute. My thumbs hesitate to tell them everything. I mean, if you don’t tell them, I’m sure Josh will.  

Charlotte: lol um well 🫣

Quinn: hang on 

Before I have time even to think, my phone is ringing. 

“Hi there,” I answer, chuckling at how fast they managed to call. 

“WHAT HAPPENED?” they whisper yell into the phone. “I just ran out of the apartment for this; you better spill.” 

The thought of them running right past Jacob to call me makes it even funnier.

“Okay, fine,” I start. “I may have kissed him.” My hand flies up to cover my mouth because I didn’t hear it until just now. 

“OH MY GOD,” they practically yelp into the phone, “AHHHHH.” 

My face is absolutely beat red by this point, and I manage to squeak out a little, “I know.” 

“How was it? What happened? I need to know EVERYTHING.” 

My mind races back to the moment I decided to go for it. His sweet face only lit up from the street lamps, the way his thumb was rubbing the back of my hand, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how soft his lips looked. Remembering my promise to Cass that I would give it a shot if I found a long-haired, soft, nerdy boy. I couldn’t restrain myself anymore when I leaned in, just kissing the corner of his mouth, hoping it would be enough for him to know that I also wanted it. I had caught him looking at my mouth enough the last couple of hours; I knew he had been thinking about it. 

The look on his face when I pulled back, his eyes darting back and forth between mine, and I swear he could hear my thoughts screaming, “Please kiss me, for the love of god.” His soft voice asked if it was okay before he finally went for it. I’d never felt such a relief. The second his lips pressed into mine, it was like nothing mattered. Breathing him in, the feeling of his hands holding my jaw, his fucking smile when we couldn’t figure out how to stop. His kiss was better than anything I could have imagined.  I don’t know what happened in that moment, honestly. I felt like I could have kissed him for hours, but it wouldn’t have been enough. He held onto me like I was made of porcelain, so gentle but like he couldn’t let go, or I’d break. It’s hard to believe that he hasn’t spent much time in relationships or with someone in general with the way he knows what he’s doing. 

If it wasn’t the way his lips were moving, it was the placement of his hands—the subtle, soothing feeling of his thumbs rubbing my cheekbones. His voice really was lethal at the moment. All he said was, “So.. uh,” and I already felt myself melting back into him; I couldn’t resist the smile when I went back for more. 

The butterflies in my stomach when he needed one more kiss before I could leave. There’s something about him that makes my head spin when I’m around him, and I wish I could figure it out. 

“Why do I want to cry?” Quinn finally says, after my long-winded explanation of the night before. 

“It was really so cute,” I join in. 

“How do you feel about it?” 

Scared. Not good. Unwell. BAD. 

I hesitate, “I uh-” I don’t know what to say about it.  

“Charlotte, it’s okay if you enjoyed it.”

I can’t find words to say, so I just wait for them to continue. 

“I just mean- don’t overthink it! Which I feel like you’re doing with how quiet you are.” 

I finally spit out, “What if it was just like .. heat of the moment? I don’t know.”

They laugh quietly, “I don't think Jake would still be giggling like a little girl if it was just a momentary thing.”

“It was a good kiss..” I admit, but my face still feels hot. 

“I bet it was! I’ve always wondered if he kisses the same way as Josh because they’re–” 

“QUINN!”

“IT’S JUST THE INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, LOTTIE,”

I feel my phone vibrate against me; a notification drops down: another email from my boss. I don’t want to open that. Hopefully, for your sake, he’s not mad.  I have no self-control when it comes to working, though, so I put Quinn on speaker so I can read the email quickly. 

‘Charlotte, How are things going? I know we discussed you working remotely temporarily, but I’m just following up on how long you think you’ll need to be out of the office. This really isn’t something we’re supposed to be doing, but you’ve been keeping up with your work, so I’m not going to say anything. Please let me know what your timeline is looking like so we can discuss how to continue further.

Breathing out a sigh quietly, I’ll deal with that later. I’m still battling the urge to tell him that I’m grieving and that he’s being insensitive to that. Especially given that I’ve never needed more than a day or two off of work for any other reason. 

They pull me back to reality and say, “Maybe you just need to see how you feel the next time you see him.”

“Maybe,” I breathe out. It’s just a job, it’s just a job, it’s just a job. 

“You can debunk the fluke concept you have floating around in that pretty head of yours. Because for as much as I know Jake, he wouldn’t do anything unless there was some emotion behind it. He’s not a one-night stand type of boy, I can tell you that.”

My heart beats harder in my chest, listening to them talk about him, “I’m inclined to believe you. He doesn’t strike me as one.”

“No, he’s the definition of a hopeless romantic if I’ve ever met one.”

I don’t know if that helps, but it definitely makes me want to see him tonight. 

My brain moves faster than my mouth can, “Do you know if Mel is working tonight?” 

“I can ask, hold on.” 

I listen to the sounds of them making their way back into the apartment, the door shutting, before listening to their conversation.

‘Hey, Jack Sparrow, is Mel working tonight?’

‘Uhh, yes, I think Josh is training her for a bit. She won’t be in long, though.’

‘Oooo okay..’ 

‘Why?’

‘Willa and I are getting together, and we were gonna see if she wanted to join us, and you’re a psycho who’s already awake, so saving myself the hassle, okaaaaay thank you.’

The door creaks again as they whisper, “Okay, did you hear that or-”

“I did,” I laugh quietly. 

“So, are you going to test some theories tonight?” they ask, and I can see the smile on their face. 

“I think I just might.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the bar is torture. My mind raced the entire way there. 

Well, maybe I should just see what happens. I’m going to be around him tonight, so maybe he’ll try to make another move or something. 

 I still don’t understand why we’re doing this. 

Because Cassie would want me to just not listen to you in this scenario. 

Okay, but if you’re hesitant, maybe just.. Don’t. 

I have always been hesitant, and this is the only way I’m going to get over it. 

Shouldn’t your job be more important than him? 

My heart aches at the thought. The flash of Cass’s face in my mind, ‘it’s just a job, babe.’ I tried to fight it then, and my brain is trying to fight it now. 

Maybe she is right; it’s just a job. I need to live.

It’s a good job that you worked incredibly hard for, though. 

I shake my head, trying to stop the negative thoughts from winning; I reach over and turn my music up louder to drown them out. 

Walking into the bar, my stress is high, and there is no way someone won’t pick up on it. I wave at Josh and Melody as I walk through the bar. Both of them are focused on whoever they’re talking to, but they shoot me a smile as I come in. I point to Jacob’s office a few times, and Josh nods quickly. 

My shoulders feel like they’re at least up to my ears; as I get to his office, the door is open as usual. Leaning into the doorframe, I quietly knock.

“Hey you, can I leave my-“ I start, but I’m taken aback when he turns around from his desk. It felt like time had slowed down as his long hair flowed in the self-created wind from turning around. His brown eyes instantly met mine, lighting up like a little kid on Christmas. His smile grew in a second from his natural state to a big, toothy grin.  He immediately became attentive when he heard my voice, which was wild to witness. My shoulders slowly drop from their heightened state, and my chest feels lighter, like all the tension melted away. “Uh- my bag in here?” I ask.

“Hi,” he finally says. “Of course you can.” Holding his hand out, I slide my bag off and take the little notebook out before handing it to him. 

“I know Mel’s not here for too much longer tonight, but I figured we could get through some while we had the chance,” I tell him. I don’t know why I’m explaining myself so thoroughly; he knows it’s the only reason I'm here. 

“Sounds wonderful,” he says. “Just let me know if you need me.” The softness of his voice makes me feel warm like being wrapped in a hug. I take a second to look at him before turning out of his office. I think I want to kiss him again. Oh no.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

It’s another night of watching Mel do a great job, knowing I don’t need to be here. I explain little things to her in between watching her mix drinks. Jacob really is lucky to have her here; she’s a natural at this. 

“I know you haven’t been here long,” Mel says, “but I need to leave in like ten minutes if that’s okay?” 

“Oh, that’s completely fine. I had nothing going on, so I figured we’d get more taken care of while I had the time,” I told her as if I would be doing anything else besides answering emails.  She wanders off to clean and take a few more orders before needing to leave. 

Jacob, finally emerging from his office, carefully walks behind Josh while saying ‘hello’ to some of the regulars who sat at the bar. He’s just in a regular t-shirt today, and something about being able to see his bare arms folded across him as he talks to them has me in a chokehold. The flex of his forearms made my mouth run dry. 

“How are we doing, Red?” He asks as he sauntered over to me. 

“I can’t complain,” I say, unable to hold back a smile as he looks at me. The moment of him smiling after kissing me plays in my head as he stands there. “How are you?” 

He pauses, looking at my lips not so subtly, before saying, “Never been better.” He turns to Melody, leaning close to her ear as she pours a beer, and she just nods in response. 

“Are you gonna hang out for a little bit?” He asks, glancing over at me as he pours a beer for someone. 

“I can,” I say, leaning forward and resting into my hand. “If you want me to,” 

The cute little smirk on his face was really enough of an answer, but still, he says, “I think you should.” 

No, I definitely want to kiss him again.   ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I sat there for a while, watching him work while he found excuses to stay near where I was sitting. We were casually talking about whatever we could. It felt like we were friends when we got to just talk to each other, which is crazy because we just met, but I also didn’t want to stop talking to him. 

“What have you been reading?” he asks, wiping the already clean bar top in front of me. 

Remembering the few books sitting on my coffee table, and they’re all romance. 

“Oh, just a little romance, nothing crazy,” I try to spit out rather quickly. His smile is torture enough; I can see the small laugh he barely lets come out as his chest vibrates a little. 

“I feel like I need to read one since you seem to like them so much,” he says, making my body feel hot when he does. Why was that..? Also, the last thing I need is for him to get more ideas. 

My uncomfortable laugh escapes me before I can stop it, “Maybe you should.” WHAT DID I JUST SAY? 

“If you bring me one, I’ll do it.” 

I quite literally can not do this to myself, but also, why is he doing THIS to ME? 

His eye contact doesn’t falter as I ask him, “Are you sure?” 

He slowly nods once before letting out a quiet, “Very.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Naturally, when it was late enough, and I forced myself to stand up from the barstool I was sitting in, he refused to let me walk to my car alone. Any excuse to get him alone, I’ll take it. 

“Do you have any wild plans since Mel is off tomorrow?”

I let out one good laugh, “I’m not much of a ‘wild plans’ kind of girl.” 

“I can't really argue that,” he chuckles, “I’m not either.” 

“Unless ‘wild’ is being in the bar, then you may be the craziest person I know,” I tease. 

He stops walking, and his jaw slacks as I turn around, making me laugh. 

“Oh, don’t be dramatic!” 

He just stands there, arms folded across his chest as he pouts. I take a few steps towards him, watching him fight the smile that’s so close to coming out. 

“Jacob,” I whine, “come oooonnnnn.”  Walking right up to him, his eyes on me the entire time. I grab his arms and pull them down from his chest, sliding my hands into his. My 

“Please,” I whisper, leaning into his chest a bit and pouting my lip at him. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he whispers back, leaning his forehead against mine for a second. Only letting go of one hand before walking again, he tugs me along with him. I need him to kiss me.

My stomach turns as we get closer to my car; I don’t know why I’m so nervous this time. He hasn’t let go of my hand even though we’re within steps of my car, and I can feel my heart rate start to speed up. What if he doesn’t kiss me? Am I stupid for thinking maybe it wasn’t just a fluke? 

He stops at the door, his hand reaching for the handle but hesitating. He looks down for a second, and all I can focus on is him. Turning to face me, he backed up and leaned against my car; wow, he’s really so hot. He pulls me to him, and his free hand grabs the nape of my neck as he leans in. Our lips crashed together, feverish as we both needed it; it felt desperate. I can’t stop grabbing his shirt, wanting to be closer to him. 

He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. The only sound is our heavy breathing, his lips curling up into a smile as he looks at me. 

He whispers, “You’ll let me know when you make it home?” 

“Mhm,” I hum quickly. My hands find the sides of his face, pulling him back in, not ready to be done.  We fall into the same situation as last night, giggling and pressing small pecks into each other because neither of us knows how to stop. Or want to stop. He starts trailing kisses to my jaw, placing one underneath my ear that sends chills through my body. 

“Jake!” I yelp between laughs as he’s practically curled into my neck. I can feel his smile against my skin. His arms tighten around me, and my heart flutters as he lets a little ‘mmm’ slip out against my neck. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you get home.” His hand reached back and opened my door for me. I move around him, sitting in the driver's seat and tossing my bag onto the floor. My hand found his quickly, pulling him towards me. He leans down, and I can’t stop myself from grabbing his face, pressing my lips into him again, feeling the butterflies in my stomach as he giggles into me. 

He manages to mumble between kisses, “Drive safe, hun.” 

“I’ll try,” I say before he kisses my cheek and stands up before I try to get the last one. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

If I thought the drive to the bar was terrible, I had no idea how much worse the drive home would be. 

I pull into the driveway, sitting there for a second before convincing myself to go inside. I pulled out my phone as I walked through the door, knowing I had a few things I needed to do now that I was home. 

Me: I made it ☺️ 

Texting him first so he knows I’m home and safe it’s what I would want people to do for me. I debate whether I should pull the trigger on the next text I’m considering. 

Me: ummm… are you awake? 

Quinn: obviously 👀  

It’s okay to confide in people. Cass isn’t physically here anymore, so I need to let people in. 

Me: let’s just say- the results are in.. it wasn’t a fluke. 🤭

Quinn: OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG

Quinn: WAIT- I know some people that will be SO excited about this 

What do they mean by “some people” will be excited? When a new group message pops up with Quinn, Melody, and an unknown number. 

Quinn: LAID EASE- 

Unknown: what now Q

Ohhh- it’s Willa, okay. 

Melody: 👀 

Quinn: first of all, say hi to Charlotte. She comes bearing piping hot TEAAAAA. 

Me: hi 😳 

Willa: CHARLOTTE. I AM SAT GIRL. 

Melody: I feel like I know where this is going 🤭

Me: Well umm so I may have kissed Jacob 🫣

Willa: STOP OMFG 

Mel: I KNEW HE WAS UP TO SOMETHING WHEN HE WANTED YOU TO STAY LONGER. 

Quinn: I TOLD YALL IT WAS GOOD !! 

Willa: well now we need the details! 

Me: from the first one? 

Melody: FIRST?

Willa: HOW MANY KISSES WERE THERE? 

Me: I just mean-

Me: A lot.. but just the past two days.

Quinn: we got all night Lottie go on 

I quickly recap the other two on what I’ve already told Quinn. While giggling while recounting the many kisses I’ve shared with Jacob tonight, he texts me back. 

Jacob: oh good even if I’m a bit bummed about it. 

Me: lol why are you sad I made it home?! 

Jacob: well, making out with a beautiful girl makes for a way better night than pouring beer for old men

My face heats up at his reply, unprepared for him to be so forward. A little flirting doesn’t hurt, though. I’ve already kissed him, so I may as well have a little fun. 

Me: Missing me already? 🥰

Jacob: enough that I’ve been debating on FaceTiming you

Me: I wouldn’t say no 

He’s so cute. My heart swells at the thought. Not even a minute goes by before my phone lights up to his call. 

“Well, hello again,” I say, curling up in the corner of the couch. 

“How was your drive home?” He asks. 

Painful.

“Felt like forever,” I mindlessly let out, why did I do that? My face feels warm, and I quickly try to recover. “Aren’t you working?” 

“I was,” he sighs, walking up the stairs to his apartment, “but Josh had it covered, and this sounded better.”  His little smirk as he says it makes my stomach turn. 

“Oh?” my hand covers my mouth, knowing that I’m definitely making it worse. 

He lets out a small ‘mhm’ as he’s unlocking his door. I find myself staring at him quietly for a moment, admiring his features as he looks through his kitchen for food. I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t even talked to anybody long enough to develop feelings for them in years. Let alone whatever THIS is.  

I pull up my texts and click on the group chat, hoping they can help. 

Me: I’m on FaceTime with him SOS

Willa: Of course you are 

Quinn: CUTIES 

Me: No really, I have no idea what i’m doing please help 

Quinn: with what? 

Me: I don’t know how to flirt with someone! Especially when I’m sober!! 

Willa: I don’t think you’d need to say much to get him flustered 

Willa: Poor guy practically has cobwebs on him with the lack of action he’s gotten

Quinn: She’s not wrong  

Quinn: what is he saying ���

“What are you gonna make tonight?” I ask to break the silence. 

He lets out a small sigh, “I’m not sure. I’m tempted to steal Josh’s food again, but he may quit me if I do that.” He just shuts the fridge door, leaning onto the counter in front of wherever he’s propped up his phone. “I may just starve at this rate.”

“Oh we’re just being dramatic tonight, huh?” I tease. Because he’s so calm and seemingly level-headed about most things, watching him have his moments of over-dramaticamatic is fun for me. 

He chuckles before squinting at me, “Could just be me, but I think you’re enjoying it.” His damn eyebrow pops up as he looks at me. I like it a lot, actually. 

“It’s cute.” 

Me:  He’s just being dramatic and goofy right now

Quinn: JAKE? DRAMATIC? SINCE WHEN?

I audibly laugh at their response, forgetting I’m on Facetime with him right now. 

His eyebrows pull in as he looks at me, almost like he wants to ask why. 

“Sorry, Quinn texted me,” I giggled, trying to recover smoothly. “They’re a little too funny sometimes.” 

“They’re practically an extension of my brother, so you have gained yourself a yapper,” he giggles through the end of it. 

It warms my heart knowing that Quinn is like that; since Cass doesn’t blow up my phone anymore, it might be nice. “That’s okay with me.” 

“I’m glad you two get along,” he says, “They’re definitely a bit more tame than Josh, so if you can handle my brother, you’ll be fine.” 

“I think Josh is sweet!” 

“Well, of course. He’s sweet to you but a menace to me.” 

I laugh at the thought of their brotherly banter, imagining it must be ridiculous given how much of their lives they have spent and currently spend together. They must get sick of each other? I don’t think I could live with a sibling AND work with them. 

“Can I say something? It might sound weird, though,” he timidly asks, bringing my attention back to him. 

I nod at him, “Of course.” 

“I wish I could see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. All you have to do is ask. The little bit of pink creeping into his cheeks, selling him out. How I wish I could kiss every inch of his face right now. 

My heartbeat feels loud when I whisper, “Me too.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Ten

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[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Four

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Mentions of Death / Grief, Drinking, Sad / Anxious Themes, Shitty Dates, Potential spoilers for a rom-com that came out in 2006, brief conversation involving sex (very tame if you read fanfic regularly) and a tiny little taste of what's about to happen next week.

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary : Charlotte has the most unfortunate day ahead of her, but remembering fondly on better times helps her make it through. As one would say; the world works in mysterious ways.

Author's Note: I'm going to be so for real with you, I know the premise of this chapter is a bit on the heavier side. BUT- with that said, I did my best to not make it too difficult to read. I hope you enjoy learning a little more about my favorite red-haired beauty. 🧡 (There's very few HEAVY chapters in The Caravel Tavern Series and sadly, Ms Charlotte has at least 2 of them)

Portland Maine - Donovan Woods "Leave your bags in the car, keep it running, I won't pretend, That I won't miss this."

I never knew what people meant when they said they felt numb until today. It feels like I hardly slept last night, but I did end up lying in bed for a while this morning. After I convinced myself to get up, I reluctantly made some coffee, took a shower, blew out my hair, and made it look presentable again. 

I’m sitting in front of my mirror with all my makeup splayed out in front of me. Carefully clipped my hair back so I didn’t mess up the loose waves I spent time working on. I look at myself, taking a deep breath; my under-eyes are dark from the lack of sleep. God, I don’t want to do this. 

I slowly work through my makeup routine, pausing every so often to fight back the tears that threaten to fall. With every step, I look more and more like a normal person. I set my mascara tube back into its place, taking a second to look at how everything looks. I hold a breath, closing my eyes gently as it leaves my body.   

And then there I stood in my closet, staring at all the options. Choosing an outfit is usually a highlight of my day, but today was certainly not one of those days. I still haven’t said it out loud; it makes it too real. I never thought I would be in a position where I had to mourn a friend, a best friend. My best friend. 

Unfortunately, accidents happen, and generally speaking, I handle those well. I am not doing well in this specific instance, but she would want me to go stun at her service. The thought makes me laugh, even in the midst of the saddest time. 

I can hear her in my head, yelling, “Lottie! If you don’t wear a bomb pantsuit, I’ll haunt your ass!” I let out a small laugh at the thought. She always has a way of doing that. I pull out some tapered black pants, a black cotton T-shirt, and a blazer, I feel like she’d be happy with this, I think to myself as I put on the gold necklace she bought me.  

Checking myself one more time in the mirror, “Okay, I think I’m ready,” I mumble to myself. I grab my bag and my keys and head out. 

The drive feels surreal. It’s something that nobody is ever prepared for, and as much as I know that, I really thought I would be better at this. Trying to focus on anything besides the situation, I have the music turned up insanely loud, the window is cracked for fresh air, and I’m sipping on the coffee I brought. I enjoy the scenery as best as I can, trying to find the silver lining on this day. Thankfully, the weather isn’t terrible today, so there’s… something. I just embrace the feeling of the sun on my skin with the cool autumn breeze. 

I pull into the parking lot, shut off my car, and just stare at the building with others dressed in all black wandering in. I take a minute to just sit here, mentally preparing myself for the service. I won’t pretend that I won’t miss her, but in my head, she’s never really gone. She would be yelling, ‘Your ass is stuck with me for life.’  I let out a small laugh at the thought. 

I look up at the sky as I walk towards the door, “You’re lucky I love you so much,” I whisper to myself, and her, before grabbing the door handle to the funeral hall.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

3 Months Ago..

I carefully walk back into my living room, handing one wine glass over to her. She quickly cheers my glass as I go to sit down. I take a little sip before setting it on a coaster. 

“What are we cheers-ing?” 

“Actually getting to hang out, for once!” 

Truth be told, I can be a pain in the ass to plan time with. I spend a lot of my time working and ignoring my personal life. Not the healthiest habit, now is it Char?  

“I’m the worst. I’m sorry,” I cringe as I pull up Netflix. 

She laughs loudly, something I’ve always loved about her, “at least you’re self-aware.” 

“I’m choosing to pretend you didn’t agree,” I scroll over to our favorite movie, “shall we?” 

I don’t know why we became so attached to John Tucker Must Die, but now it’s almost a tradition to watch it if we have a night together. Maybe it’s because we both have had our fair share of terrible men in our lives or because we have bonded over the hatred of a single person. Regardless, we make it a point to always watch it when we have the chance. 

“So, are you still seeing that one dude?” She asks, a half smirk on her face. 

I can’t tell her fast enough, “Oh GOD, no. Never again.”

“He seemed a bit.. boring.”

“He had ZERO personality. About as exciting as the fourteen tan suits that he owns,” I feel a little bad making fun of him, but my god, he was dreadful. 

“He was also mid in bed.. and that’s giving him credit.” I shrug, taking a sip of my drink to hide my smile. 

“LOTTIE!” 

“CASSIE!” 

We both laugh until tears are falling down our faces. 

“I’m sorry!” I giggle, “But you shouldn’t start things you can’t finish.” Covering my mouth because I also can’t believe I said that. 

“Amen, girl!” 

We’ve spent most of our adult lives confiding in each other about everything. Every new job, family drama, bad date. We both know the ins and outs of each other’s sex lives because sometimes it’s so humorous that you have to tell someone. 

The two of us have been close since we met at our first job in high school. Dairy Queen wasn’t the most exciting place to work, especially during summer break, because you just can’t get the smell of melted ice cream out of your clothes. After countless shifts working together, we bonded and inevitably started talking outside of work. Realizing quickly that we were incredibly different, but it also made it fun. I kept her focused when it was busy, and she helped me to loosen up when we weren’t on the clock. 

“Have you tried just meeting someone organically? Or are you ‘too busy’ ?” She says the second half in a mocking tone. 

I roll my eyes quickly, “My job just takes up a lot of time, so dating apps seem to be easiest.” 

“I know you’re going to hate this, but,” she starts, “it’s just a job, babe. You’re allowed to take time for yourself or, in this case, to find someone.” 

“No, I know.. I just-” 

She cuts me off, “There’s no ‘I just’ anymore, girl. You’ll burn yourself out on this job if you don’t make time for yourself.” 

I put both of my hands up to surrender, “Okay, you’re right.” We both sink back into the couch and giggle through the rest of this ridiculous movie. 

Cassie is a free spirit, something I wish I could learn to be. She always had a positive approach to things, not in the sickeningly sweet way, either; just genuinely, she saw the good in the world. She did not care about other people’s opinions; she wore whatever she wanted, followed her dreams, and did whatever she wanted. 

It was always funny to me when we were out in public together. Her outfits were always fun and colorful, and she wasn’t afraid to try new things. Then there’s me, borderline-looking professional at any given point. I love neutrals and looking put together. Maybe it was just to give the front that I knew what I was doing, but nonetheless, I enjoyed a pantsuit. People would always watch her. She’s beautiful, to be fair, but how she carries herself is incredible.

She is really the only person I consistently keep up with. We text each other from the moment we wake up until someone passes out, usually waking up to a bunch of things unread from the early hours of the morning. Nothing would stop us from staying close, though, not even going to different colleges, having entirely different careers, or living two hours apart. 

Watching Kate throw cake at John will never not make us hard-laugh; he deserved every ounce of it. Both of us are kicking our feet over Scott, coming around to be her lab partner again, and calling her perfect. Ugh, he’s an angel. 

“Y’know, Lottie,” she giggles, “Maybe you just need to find a Scott of your own.”

Sitting up from my corner of the couch, “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s be honest here. You always go for the John type.. Maybe you need a Scott.” 

I can’t deny that I tend to go for that type, but I have my reasons. Because you’re a bit neurotic..? Excuse me? I just know what I like and don’t like. 

“You’re not wrong.”

“Just give it a try,” her voice changing into a more empathetic tone, “Stop thinking yourself out of happiness for once.” Her hand landed on mine, giving it a double pat before looking back up at me. 

“Alright, alright.” I can’t deny that she could be onto something. I’m just bad at accepting change. “If I run into someone who is giving ‘Scott’ vibes, I will give it a shot. But I’m not making any promises that it’ll work.” 

She lets out a feral squeal, “Oh my god, I can see it now! Some kind-hearted, nerdy, long-haired man just sweeping you off your feet!” She falls over dramatically with her hand on her forehead, like a Victorian woman in a silk robe falling onto velvet sofas. We fall into a fit of giggles as she tells me her entire vision of what my life could become. 

“You just deserve a man who’s as much of a hopeless romantic as you are,” she says through a laugh. 

“Hey now! Just because I read romance doesn’t mean that I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“Lottie, I don’t know who you’re trying to convince here.” 

I hate it when she’s right. I do have a soft spot for romantic things. Something about finding the right person at the right time, just feels like it only happens in books or movies. Meeting the love of your life by chance feels so foreign in our time, because everything is through dating apps and the internet. 

“I just don’t think I’ll find a man who compares to any of the love interests in my books, you know? I have to stay realistic, Cass.” 

She rolls her eyes at me, “I’m sure one exists out there. You just need to open your eyes more. Stop dating Finance Bros,” she barks out a laugh, “They are definitely not written by women nor do they know how to treat one.” 

“Ugh.. I know you’re right,” I confess, “I don’t even know how to meet people organically.” Dramatically throwing myself back onto the couch, covering my eyes with my hands. 

“We will get you all dolled up and hit the Old Port one of these weekends,” she pulls me back up, “I’m sure we can find you a man in one of those bars. You’re too sexy– there’s no chance you won’t catch a few looks.”

My face hot instantly at her compliment, “As long as you approve of him, I’ll do it. That’s the agreement from now on.” She sticks her hand out, taking mine and rapidly shaking it. 

“Yes, yes, yes! This is what I’ve been dreaming of!” she hollers through my apartment, “I get to turn my shy little Lottie into someones WIFE!”  

We’re a few glasses of wine deep at this point. 

“So I went on a date with this guy,” Cassie starts, struggling to hold in her laugh, “I wish I could explain to you how bad.” 

“Oh god, PLEASE.” 

“The first red flag that I so nicely ignored was that he didn’t even dress cute! He wore sweatpants, girl,” both of us borderline screaming at the statement. 

“Also, his name is Jeff,” she cringes. “I feel like I should have KNOWN.” 

I finally cave, “What actually happened on the date?” 

“Literally nothing. He only like half listened to me, we went to a bar with TVs and he was fully focused on whatever sport was on.” Rolling her eyes as she tells me. 

“That’s SO annoying!”

She took a sip of her wine and swallowed it quickly, “HONESTLY— I even had the girls out, trying to look a little cuter than normal.”

“Well, that’s terrible that it didn’t work out. I’m sure you looked way too hot for him anyway.” She literally looks hot all the time, he’s a fool to not notice that. 

Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, “Oh girl, I still invited him back.”

“CASS-“ I scream. 

“Hey— sometimes you just need to get laid!” She says matter of factly. 

“I guess I can’t argue that.. he couldn’t have been very good?” 

“Oh god- he literally didn’t even try to take control. A whole pillow princess if I’ve ever met one.” 

I can’t stop the scream that escapes me, making her laugh with me. 

After she comes to, “It’s okay, at least I know my way around. Still managed to get off even if it was looking like I had a small window before it was done.” 

“How fast did he leave after?” I have to ask. 

“Oh, he ran out of there. Definitely is just looking to get his dick sucked, nothing serious.” 

“Well, for your sake, hopefully, it was worth it.” 

After a few more hours, we fell asleep on my couch. It was a pretty typical situation for us. We just get so caught up in giggling and being around each other that we lose track of the time. We would always take advantage of the times we get to actually hang out since they were becoming less frequent. 

We spent the morning sipping coffee together before she needed to head back home. She pulled me into a hug, swaying me back and forth for a minute before getting into her car. 

“I love you, Lottie!” 

“I love you too,” I tell her, “Let me know when you make it home, okay?” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The sun feels good on my skin; I’ve been sitting in my car with the door open for 20 minutes. The slight breeze made it so it wasn’t too warm, just baking in the sun. Her service was beautiful, and the room was full of people there to celebrate how wonderful of a person she was. I couldn’t have asked for anything better except to have her here instead. 

Decompressing before I decide what to do next since I’m already in the city She would tell me to do some retail therapy to get my mind off of it, which is honestly sounding pretty good right now. She was always good at talking me down when I got into my head about something. Even if it was just trying to make me laugh because she knew that I was being dramatic about whatever it was. 

 I grab my phone out of my bag to see if I can convince myself to spend some money irrationally for a small dose of serotonin. 

Jacob: Hi there. I have been trying to get through this paperwork and I think I’m just lost on what I need to be doing. I don’t know if you are nearby and want to stop in or you can literally just call me that’s also fine. I just don’t want to mess things up again. Let me know whichever works for you.

I mull over the options of working right now or shopping; unfortunately, I know what my body is going to end up doing. I can’t not help him, especially since he was so nice to me about the whole thing anyway. I swipe out of my texts, pulling up maps and typing in the address. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Even just driving through Portland felt weird now. It was always the two of us; C2 is what we call ourselves. Even if she always called me ‘Lottie,’ leaving people confused most of the time. She lived nearby, so the biggest reason for me to come here was her. We would usually end up ordering takeout and camping out on her couch, but on the rare occasion, we would go to the Old Port for drinks. Never remembering much past midnight though, I can’t imagine how ridiculous we looked. I really hope nobody ever saw us.

I park down the street from the bar, giving myself a minute to mentally prepare. The clock in my car shows 3:15 pm; this shouldn’t take too long. Hopefully, I can get home before it’s too dark. I open my bag, seeing the ‘in memoriam of Cassandra..’ sticking out. I pull it out, looking at the photo of her on the front. 

“You look good, Cass,” my throat tight as I whisper it into the quiet of my car, “I miss you so much.” I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to cry again. Get it together; you need to be professional. 

I set it down on the passenger seat, not wanting it to get crumpled up in my bag. I grab my phone and start walking to the bar. I really hope it’s quiet in there since it’s so early in the afternoon. The quicker I help him, the sooner I can get out of this city. 

I pull open the door to the bar, but only a few people are scattered throughout. Perfect, this should be smooth sailing. I walk towards the bar as Jacob turns around, pulls out his phone, and then disappears behind the bar quickly. It’s hard to deny that he’s a handsome guy, but it still catches me off guard that he is the owner of this place. 

“I didn’t think I would see you today,” is all I can really hear as he drops down, aside from the sounds of rustling paperwork. I can hear the vague sounds of his mumbling, but nothing is clear. I set my bag on the barstool next to me, deciding to not sit down just in case it’s a quick question. He stands back up, his eyes finding mine. He’s quiet for a moment, what feels like forever, as his face falters and his eyes scan all over me. Don’t ask me, don’t ask me, don’t ask me.  Watching as his eyebrows pulled together, I knew exactly what was about to happen. 

He asked me that godforsaken question, “Are you okay?” in his soft, raspy voice. Shit.  It felt like a punch to the gut, leaving me winded. I’ve avoided the question for two weeks because I knew the moment someone asked, it wouldn’t go over well. I really can’t even fault him for asking. If anything, it’s sweet that he noticed that something was off.

I breathe in slowly, feeling the prick of tears in my eyes again. Trying to muster up everything in me to answer confidently. For the love of God, don’t cry. 

“Um,” my shaky breath comes out as my voice fails me. Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, barely above a whisper. No, I’m not. Who am I kidding? My heart pounds in my chest despite feeling like it’s shattered. The silence between us felt like forever until I heard a door opening.

We both look over quickly, seeing Josh come around the corner before Jacob comes out from behind the bar. Grabbing my bag and placing his hand on my back, he guides me towards his office. He lets me into the small room first and sets my bag on the chair before turning to me. Oh no. The way his eyes are full of worry as they meet mine; I pull my hands up to hide my face, unprepared for my emotions to betray me. 

A sob escapes me, louder than I would have liked. My chest aches. The sound of the door shutting was immediately drowned out by the feeling of his arms pulling me into him, his hand holding my head gently against him before he whispered the words that I knew would haunt me. 

“Oh, honey.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Three

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[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Nine

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: FLUFF, a very mild mention of gagging, uncomfortable tension, alcohol / drinking, SOME FLIRTING ACTION 😏, quite literally the most painful paragraph I have written so far (dramatic but you'll get it i promise) and some cute, silly banter.

Word Count: 5k

Summary: The day after drinking a little too much proves to be a tough start, but ends up being an even tougher evening.

Author's Note: Oh I am just twiddling my little thumbs over this chapter!! We're so close to the inevitable everyone 🤭 like SO SO CLOSE.

Hot For Teacher - Van Halen "I've got it bad, so bad, I'm hot for teacher."

Maybe if I just keep my eyes closed, the hangover won’t be real. I’ve been lying in bed for I don’t even know how long. I need to pee. My head feels like it’s going to explode. I know the moment I open my eyes, it’ll only get worse. 

I can hear some movement coming from what I can only assume is the kitchen. Opening my eyes long enough to look at my phone, why is he awake at 7:30 am? I let out a deep sigh, knowing that getting out of bed is probably the best choice, considering that I do need to become a person again since I have to work later. God, I’m dumb for drinking that last drink.  

My head feels like a construction zone when I finally stand up. Turning the doorknob as quietly as possible, I leave the room. I don’t know why I’m nervous. The hallway isn’t long, but feels like a mile. As I approach the open space, I can’t help but notice the decor. Josh must have helped him. It’s very comparable to the bar’s atmosphere, without the heavy pirate influence. The big windows let in a ton of natural light with a very pretty view of the Old Port. They have exposed brick walls; I can’t lie- I’m a little jealous of that.  I scan the room silently, admiring the different art pieces and plants- until I find my eyes fixed on him. 

There he stood in the kitchen, making something on the stove. The way he moves so gracefully as he goes between cooking and making coffee. I can feel my body warm as I notice what he’s wearing, or lack thereof. Oh no, he’s hot. His sweatpants hung low on his hips; I only knew this because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. I know that his outfit last night showed off a fair amount of his chest, but I wasn’t expecting to see this much of him. Not that I’m complaining. 

He’s an attractive man, but I never really considered anything past his nice smile. He’s a smaller framed guy, and that’s apparent once anybody who isn’t Josh stands next to him, but seeing him right now, I can’t stop myself from staring at him.

I become incredibly self-aware that I’m quite literally just watching this man cook while he has no idea I’m here. And I don’t know why I haven’t made a noise to acknowledge my presence yet.  

I watch as he gathers all of his hair into a low, messy bun, pulling the hair tie off of his middle finger; I hadn’t noticed he made it into a ring. His back muscles flex a little as he wraps the hair tie into his hair, and the sound that comes out of my body is embarrassing.

“Mmm” slips out of me, causing him to turn around. 

“Well, good morning,” he speaks quietly, “how terrible do you feel?” he giggles a bit after that. 

“Astronomically bad right now,” I tell him, tugging his sweatshirt down my legs a little. 

“Here, I made some coffee,” he tells me, quickly pouring some into a cute mug for me, “Do you want anything in it?” 

I shake my head, “No, black is perfect, actually.” I find myself a comfy spot on his couch. 

“My kinda girl,” he says, looking over at me with a devious little smile. 

He brings it over to me, carefully holding it out for me. He goes to the other end of the couch, reaching down beside it and pulling up a soft-looking throw blanket. Opening it up and draping it over my bare legs, …that’s so sweet. 

“Thanks,” I squeak out. 

“Of course.”

He makes his way back into the kitchen in a comfortable silence. The coffee warmed my body and slowly eased some of the headache. I try not to just stare at him, but he makes it difficult to focus anywhere else. He tilts the pan, pushing whatever he’s cooked into a little bowl, before turning to face me. 

“I made some food for you,” he continues to whisper, “Figured you’d need something in your system once you woke up,”  He quietly walks over, extending the bowl out to me.

I can’t stop myself from the small gag, my eyes going wide. 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he says, moving the bowl away from me. He sets the food on the counter and then makes his way over to the couch, sitting on the opposite end of me. He grabs the flannel that’s draped over the back of the couch, pulling it on but not buttoning it at all. As much as you probably think that’s helpful, Jacob, I promise you it’s making this worse. 

“Let me get you something else,”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” I tell him.

“You need to get something in your body to soak up the alcohol,” he says, “and there’s a Starbucks approximately thirty seconds away.” 

“You really don’t have to do that,” 

“Charlotte, tell me your order or I’m going to order one of everything,” he tells me, a smile plastered across his face. 

I shake my head, laughing, “Okay, fine, I’ll text it to you.” 

He disappears into his bedroom for a moment before coming back out to harass me again. 

“Text me your order. I’ll be right back,” he says before pointing at me, “I mean it. If you don’t tell me, I will literally just buy the whole menu.” 

“Wait-” I quickly spit out, “Where’s your bathroom?” 

“Oh, I should have told you. It’s right down that hall on the left,” he tells me, pointing to the opposite hall from his bedroom. 

“Thank you. I have to pee so bad,” I whisper, standing up from the warm blanket. Either he’s very courteous of my hangover or maybe he’s just actually that soft-spoken. Seems odd to whisper. 

I hustle to the bathroom, bringing my phone with me.

I sit down, open my messages, and click on his name. 

Me: an everything bagel with avocado spread would be great.

After a second, I stand up, wash my hands, and stare deep into the mirror at my fairly smudged makeup. I try to wipe some of it away but ultimately accept defeat. I’ll just buy some makeup wipes when I leave. I tap on my phone to see if he replied, seeing the notification sitting there on my lockscreen. 

Jacob loved “an everything…

Turning to leave, I open the door, still looking down at my phone. 

“Well, hello there,” 

A loud gasp escapes my body when I see Quinn standing in front of me. 

“I– Uhh-” I try to speak, and nothing wants to come out. 

“Oh, good morning, Charlotte,” Josh says from the room across the hall. 

How did I not see another fucking door?  

“Haha, good morning.” 

“Oh, don’t be shy, dear.” He says, finally emerging from the room, “Where did my brother run off to?” 

“He went to Starbucks,” I can hardly make eye contact at this point; I’m so embarrassed. 

“Oh! Well, in that case, I’ll keep you company until he gets back.” 

Great. 

We both find ourselves sat on the couch, with Quinn sitting on the floor below Josh. It’s sweet how Josh just instantly runs his hand down the back of their head and just causally rubs the back of their neck. They just talk about random topics and occasionally look to me for my opinion. They’re an odd pair, but they’re definitely entertaining to be around. 

“Well, bug, I need to change and go take down some of the decorations before Jake loses his marbles over it,” he says, pressing a kiss into the top of their head. He pads off into his bedroom, shutting the door swiftly behind him. 

“So,” Quinn’s eyes dart over to the door and then back to me, “how are you feeling?” 

“Honestly, the coffee has done wonders for me.”

“Oh good, I’m glad. Umm-” They’re interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking. 

Jacob quickly came in and locked the door behind him. He turns to see the two of us now sitting on the couch. 

“Ahhhh- good morrow, Quinn,” he says in his English accent, looking over to me with an uncomfortable smile on his face. 

Quinn’s head slowly nods before joining him, “Mmm why yes! A good morrow indeed, Squire Jacob!” Is the English accent normal in this household or what? 

He brings the food over, “Hopefully, this helps.” 

I can feel Quinn’s stare boring into the side of my head as he hands my food to me. Thankful that this time, I don’t gag at the smell. 

“Good morning, brother. I was about to go downstairs and start cleaning up,” Josh speaks at a much quicker pace than Jacob.

“Thank you, bub. I’ll be down there soon to help ya.” 

 Josh comes back over, leaning down and giving Quinn a little kiss before ruffling their hair and scurrying off. 

“Charlotte, is there anything else you need before I run downstairs to try and get the bar back to normal?” Jacob asks me. 

“I don’t think so,” I tell him in between bites of my bagel, “I think I may run to a store and just grab some clothes so I don’t have to go all the way back to my house.” The realization hit me: I don’t have pants. 

 “Um.. Quinn,” I start, “Is there any chance that you have some pants I can borrow for like .. an hour?” 

“Oh for sure,” Quinn tells me, “Where are you going? I might come with, if you don’t mind, of course.” 

“I think there’s an Urban Outfitters close by, isn’t there? I’ll probably just walk over there real quick, and you can come if you want?” 

“Oh there is, and I will be joining you then,” they have a smirk painted on their face, “let me grab you some pants.” 

Jacob comes out of his room, moving a bit quicker, but at least this time, he’s dressed. Wearing what seems to be his staple—a hardly buttoned button-up —with some jeans that have seen better days and some ankle boots, unfortunately, he looks good.  

“I’m gonna go, but if you need anything.. You know where to find me,” he says with a smile, “I’ll see you in a little bit.” And off he went. 

Quinn bringing me a pair of sweats, debatably Josh’s, but at this point, I don’t even care. I grab my bag, and phone, and Quinn, and we head out to find me some slightly more presentable clothes. 

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“So..” Quinn says quietly, “did you..” 

“Did I what?” 

“I mean.. Did the two of you…?” They question. 

“Oh- OH- oh my god, no,” I realize what they’re thinking, “I was just a little more drunk than planned, and he didn’t want me to drive.” 

“Well, that feels very much like Jake.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s basically a mom,” they say through a laugh. 

I quietly laugh with them, realizing that is why he probably handled the situation the other day so well. I wonder if he’s always been like this or if it’s just since he’s been older. 

“Anyway, so what do you do?” I ask them. 

“I’m basically an elementary school art teacher,” They tell me

It makes so much sense when they tell me and explain why they would be with someone like Josh. I heard enough about how Josh decorated the bar; he seems incredibly proud of the job that he did, which is sweet. 

“Oh, that seems so fun. You must really love it?” I don’t know why I can’t just have a normal conversation. 

“Oh, I love it so much! The kids are so fun, and I really can’t wait to get my own classroom full of little nuggets.” 

After a few minutes of casual conversation, we make it to Urban Outfitters; I’ve never been more grateful to see the sign in my entire life. 

“So, what are we looking for?” Quinn whispers as we walk in. 

“I just need to look more professional than..” I pause, gesturing to my outfit, “Well.. this.” 

Quinn simply salutes to me as we wander through the store looking for something that I can put together to hold me over for at least today. 

“Not to circle back or anything.. but also.. Circling back,” Quinn quickly rambles out, “Are you interested in him?”  They look over at me; they’re smart for acknowledging body language because that’s way harder for me to hide right now.  I can feel my face slowly turning pink and god, I wish it wouldn’t. Focusing on the shirts that I’ve been slowly looking through. 

“I mean, he’s nice to work with because he really pays attention when I’m trying to explain things to him,” I tell them.

“I’m sure he does,” they roll their eyes with a laugh. They hold up a pair of pants which I quickly shake my head ‘no’ to. 

“Hey! I can’t control why he is or isn’t paying attention,” 

‘Mmmmm’ comes from them quickly, before holding up a black mini skirt. 

“What about this with black tights?” they ask. 

It would be cute, but that feels kind of casual- they cut me off mid-thought, which is probably for the best. 

“It’s just for a day. I think you’ll survive. Plus I can see you overthinking it so, just go try it on real quick.” 

They’re a little too good at reading me, and I don’t know how much I love that. But I’m not going to fight them right now; I don’t have the will or energy. I need to work on loosening up a little anyway. I may as well start today. 

“You’re right; let me try this on.”

I let Quinn choose my outfit for the day, and we’ll see if I regret that later on. We begin our walk back to the bar, and it doesn’t take long before the interrogation continues. 

“So, another question,” they say quickly, “are you single?”

“I am,” I can sense where they’re going with this.  

“Okay, and like.. you think he’s pretty cute, right?” 

“Who?” I reply, trying to refrain from alluding to anything. Don’t fall for it. 

“C’mon now, I saw how you were oogling him last night,” 

“I mean, that’s also hard to judge from because I was clearly not in my right mind,” I try to defend myself, but the urge to say the truth was too strong, “But- he’s not hard to look at.” I can’t help but look up at the clouds for a second after admitting it. The smile painted on my face, gave me away.  

“GOTCHA BITCH,” Quinn barks out with a laugh, “Okay, but also, don’t be embarrassed. He’s so sweet, AND he’s hot? I don’t blame you.”

I can’t help but look at them, puzzled a bit at their last comment. 

“I’m fully obsessed with Josh. I just have eyes, and let’s be so for real right now, they’re twins.” They rattle off with a shrug, and I guess they are right. They don’t always look incredibly similar, but they are both handsome guys. CHARLOTTE. 

We cross the street where you can see the sign for the bar, thank GOD. 

“I can let you into the apartment so you can get ready, don’t worry.” Quinn leads the way down the back alley to the stairwell.

How did I even get up there? Is all that plays in my head as I see the flights of stairs. 

We make our way into the apartment, they let me know that they’re going to shower real quick and then they’ll be out of my way. Not like I can really do much with what I have here. 

Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I actually look at where I am.  He’s so … different? His room is much more simple than the rest of the apartment. A few small trinkets sat on top of his dresser, with the rings he had on last night. I set my bag on his bed, that I should make for him. A very obviously loved quilt still semi-folded at the foot of his bed, made from a bunch of different nautical and piratical design fabric. Quickly pulling the light green sheets back up and making sure all the blankets are smoothed out, adjusting the quilt to be draped nicely on the corner. 

I pull on the black tights and mini skirt, and maybe Quinn was onto something. I grab the sweater out of the bag and pull it on, Oh it’s cropped.  I walk over to look in the mirror he has set in the corner of his room. Well.. It’s definitely not what i’m used to, but it is cute. Is it too much, though?  

I walk out into the living room, and the shower isn’t running, “Quinn?” I say, barely above a whisper. They opened Josh’s bedroom door and gave me one glance over before doing a victory dance. 

“You look SO GOOD, CHARLOTTE,” Their voice’s volume increases as they get more excited. 

“Are you sure?” 

“AM I SURE? ABSOLUTELY.” 

“Okay well, thank you for helping me,” I tell them. 

“Wait-” They turn and hurry back into Josh’s room before hustling back with their phone, “Here.” 

They hand me their phone with the new contact screen pulled up. Oh. Are we friends now?  I type my number in with ‘Charlotte (Bar)’ as the name before handing it back. They laugh to themselves as I watch them type something before looking up at me, “Okay, off you go!” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

There hasn’t been much business since I got here, but I’ve just been waiting for them to have any questions. I don’t even really need to be here, plagues my mind but for some reason, I can’t leave. 

I watch as Melody looks over some drink recipes that the boys have put together. Slowly learning how to make things in between working on lessons for her certification. She’s a smart girl so this really isn’t taking much for her to get through it. I’ve found myself sitting at the end of the bar so I can people-watch while I’m here. Even though there’s only one person I’ve been watching. 

The way he moves so delicately is intriguing. I can’t help but watch the way his hands move so smoothly. He’s just showing her how to make drinks, and I can’t seem to find anything more interesting to look at in this maximalist bar. He has a very gentle approach to such a not-gentle career. Even when I was telling him unfortunate information, he seemed to stay calm. Lord knows I would be panicking in his situation.  

“Here,”

I’m suddenly brought back from my thoughts. 

“Figured you’re gonna be here for a bit; may as well enjoy yourself,” he tells me. 

“I think I enjoyed myself enough last night,” I say, sliding the drink closer to me, “But thank you.” 

He laughs at my comment; I’m glad he thinks I’m funny. He leans on the bar with one arm, looking over to Melody, who is clearly holding her own with the few customers here. Turning to face me, he slowly glances down, which makes my skin crawl, before smiling at me. 

“You look different,” he says. 

I’m unsure what comes over me when I stand up to show off the entire outfit, doing a quick twirl before telling him, “Quinn insisted.” Sitting back in my seat and taking a sip of the drink now that I’ve sufficiently stressed myself out. 

“That makes more sense,” he says with a soft laugh, “It does look nice on you though.” 

He absolutely just checked you out, and YOU LET HIM. Who are you? 

“Hey,” Melody pipes up, “I know that you let Josh help make these recipes, but I don’t fucking know what this says,” she hands him the small piece of paper. 

“Oh god,” he says, rubbing his eyes for a second, “Let me find out for you.” 

All I can focus on is him. I don’t know what is wrong with me. He leans over to Melody, and I can’t hear anything they’re saying with the music and normal chatter of the bar filling my ears, but I have to assume he’s explaining what the recipe is supposed to say. I watch as he squats below the bar, shuffling through a cabinet, his one hand holding onto the edge of the bar to help keep his balance. The way his forearm muscle is flexed, the veins in his hand are visible, and the grip he has on the bar has me shifting in my seat a little. Down, girl. He is just doing his job, as you should be. 

‘hands hands hands’ I scribble on the corner of the page. 

I take another small sip of my drink as I watch him stand up with a notebook, moving to the counter behind him. Turning bottles so the labels are facing him and grabbing the correct glass for the drink. He begins writing down what I can only assume is the recipe Melody was working on. Tucking a bit of his hair behind his ear, why is that so endearing?  Pouring the correct amounts of each liquid into the glass, he alternates making the drink with writing it down. The way he’s so focused, his face is so calm, he’s so- Don’t do this, Charlotte. 

Turning around, he looks to see some of the regulars of the bar sit down, flashing them a smile as he greets them. God, that smile. Scribbling quickly, ‘His smile is so pretty I could cry.’ Reaching over the bar to shake one of the guys’ hands as he laughs with them, I keep going back to his hands. I’ve never been someone to focus on specific things on a person like this before, but there’s something about him that feels different. Maybe it’s because I never envisioned myself finding someone like him attractive. That sounds bad. I have only really dated men who are very clean-cut, well-put-together, and .. boring. Am I a terrible person? 

Jacob, on the other hand, is definitely not clean-cut, put-together, or boring by any means. The way he definitely thrifts a lot of his clothes and doesn’t seem to mind if things look worn out is refreshing. His hair, sitting just below his collarbones with some subtle waves that he absolutely did not brush, suits him somehow. Normally, that would drive me crazy, but looking at him, it just feels right. The man owns a bar that looks like a pirate exploded in, I really can’t say that he isn’t interesting. His little English accent slips out when he’s nervous or unsure of what to say. The way he’s just always so relaxed and like he has no other worries in the world, I could probably stand to learn a thing or two from him.  

Me: soo.. Come here often? 🤭

Setting my phone down, I glance over to where he’s stood, talking to some of the regulars. He pulls his phone out, clicking on the notification before looking over to me. I can see his eyebrow pop up with a little smirk. 

Jacob: youre never gonna believe this- 

Jacob: i actually work here 😉

Laughing to myself quietly, I look up to see him smiling at the drink he’s pouring. My heart feels weird again. 

Me: I just want you to know I really appreciate you taking care of me last night 

Is that weird? Was that a weird thing to say? I can literally see him read the text, and I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse at this moment. I watch the typing bubbles pop up, making my stomach turn a little. 

Jacob: of course. gotta make sure youre safe

My hands start to sweat; why is he so sweet? 

Me: maybe I can return the favor sometime 

What are you DOING? I immediately feel like I shouldn’t have sent that. I watch and wait to see how he reacts, hopeful that I didn’t just embarrass myself. I flip my phone facedown onto the bar, impatiently waiting for him to have a chance to read it. 

 He finally taps his lock screen, reading the message from the notification; I can see from across the bar the way he’s fighting the smile on his face. 

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Realizing the time, I decide I should probably leave. Looking around, I don’t see him in the bar; I’ve spent the last few minutes chatting with Melody about how she’s feeling with the training and certification. 

Standing up to go find him, I should probably let him know if I’m going to leave since I’ve basically lived here for the last twenty-four hours. I round the corner into the hallway, seeing his office door cracked open. Gently knocking to get his attention. 

“Hey, you.” His voice is soft. 

“I think I’m going to head home. It’s getting a bit late.” I tell him; it’s much more quiet in his office than I anticipated. I guess the only other time I’ve been in here, I was sobbing a little too loudly to notice. 

“Oh, I’ll walk you to your car,” he says, standing up from his desk.  

“You really don’t need to do that. You’ve already done enough for me,” I say, looking down at my boots for a second, “Um.. so thank you again– a lot for.. everything last night.” I can feel the heat rising into my face as I say it. 

“Of course,” he mumbles, smirking a bit before continuing, “You were a little treat, honestly.” He’s moved closer to me, looking down at me with a small grin on his face. My stomach is in knots; what is this?

“Oh god,” I groan, rubbing my hands down my face. 

“Don’t worry, it was cute.” His eyes scan all over my face, and I can’t help but stare at his mouth. I swear I can feel how soft his lips are just from looking at them- no, cut it out stop looking at them. You work together. You can’t be looking at him like this, Charlotte. My brain is moving at a million miles per hour until I let out the most pathetic sounding, “Oh.” 

“So, about that favor–” He takes another step closer, and my hands instantly feel damp, “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he mumbles, popping that same eyebrow up. Charlotte, come on, girl, what are we doing? 

“Don’t think yourself out of happiness, Lottie.” Cassie’s voice playing in my head suddenly. Maybe Cass was right. 

 The silence is deafening between us. His hand grazes mine as I see his eyes slowly drop to my lips and back up to meet my stare. He’s so close to me I can feel the warmth radiating from him. I timidly bump my hand into his, hoping he’ll get the hint. He gently takes my hand in his, lightly squeezing it a few times. I think I want to kiss him. I take my turn of glancing at his lips and finding his gaze again, like we’re playing the worst game of chicken. 

“Just wanted to pop in and say Hi- OH MY GOODNESS, I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Linda says louder than either of us wished she would. 

“No, Linda, come back,” Jacob says, “We were just discussing Melody’s training.” 

Linda peeks back around the corner, seeing us now, not in an incriminating moment. I quickly grabbed some papers from his desk to look at. 

“Was just wondering where you ran off to,” she says. 

“I think I’m going to escort m’lady Charlotte here to her car, and then I’ll be all yours for the evening.” It’s very sweet how much they all love her.  

“That’s very nice of you. I’ll be waiting for ya,” she shoots him a wink before wandering back into the bar. 

He slumps down into his chair, letting out the biggest breath I’ve heard, which honestly makes me laugh. He runs his hands over his face for a second before joining me for a laugh about the situation. 

“I’m sorry, this is-” he spits out, “Let’s get you to your car.” He lets out another giggle, shaking his head at how ridiculous both of our nights have gotten in the last three minutes. 

We walk to my car in comfortable silence. I unlock it as we get closer, he kindly opens the door for me. 

“After you,” 

“Oh, thank you,” 

I throw my things over into the passenger seat before turning to look at him. We both look fairly defeated at this point. The chill from the outside starts to get us both as he slides one hand into his pocket. 

“Haha, um… so I’ll see you tomorrow?” he says, his free hand grabbing the back of his neck. 

“Mhmm, have a good night, Jacob,” I tell him with a soft smile. 

“You too.” He gently shuts my door for me and makes his way back to the bar. 

I watch him as he walks with both hands in his pockets. How he is so nonchalant after that? I’ll never understand.. and why am I sad it didn’t happen? Waiting for him to be completely gone, I see the door to the bar shut. I drop my head back onto the headrest, letting out a quiet ‘fuck’ and then decompressing with a sigh. 

My head floods with Cassie’s voice, “Maybe he’s your Scott, Lottie.” 

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Chapter Eight

Chapter Ten

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[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Two

Warnings: uncomfortable tension, drinking/alcohol, brief mentions of depression (if you read the context clues it’s there), anxious themes, the boys are yet again being ridiculous.

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Charlotte’s first encounter with Jake is none other than memorable. Battling her internal monologue is how she lives her daily life, so this situation is only letting those voices run wild.

Author’s Note: Early chapter two because I am so so so excited for you to meet Charlotte! She’s been one of the most fun characters to create because she has such a specific personality. I hope you love her xoxo see you on Thursday 🥰

Looks That Kill - Motley Crue “If you don’t get her name, you might not make it back.”

“In 300 feet, turn right,” plays through my car’s speakers as I slowly drive through these cramped streets. All the buildings are covered in red brick, some with vines attached; it’s a quaint little area in the city. 

I pull into a parking space and check the maps on my phone again; okay, it’s only a street over; I can just walk that. Grabbing my bag and the folder I’ve been sent with, I step out and promptly lock my doors. Looking at my reflection in my windows, I gently adjust my pants and ensure my shirt is still tucked in. Leaning in and reapplying my dark red lip, I need to make sure I look professional. 

It’s mid-afternoon and fairly quiet, so all I can hear is the click of my shoes as I walk towards the bar. Well, Tavern, rather.  The sign jutting out from the building, the ocean peaking out just behind it, that’s a beautiful accident, now isn’t it? As I approach, I notice the cobblestone street directly across from it. Which must be a nightmare at 1:30 am. 

I took a deep breath before grabbing the door and mentally prepared for this conversation. Or so I thought. The door chime rings loudly, given only ten people are in the bar. The red glow is intense even though it’s still light out. I can’t help but notice the immense amount of pirate memorabilia on the walls and the cute vintage jukebox in the corner. 

As I take it in, I hear the chatter from the patrons sitting at the bar slowly increase in volume. I look over to see a petite man with a curly head of hair laughing loudly at the girl he’s sat next to. Quickly startled out of my focus by a tall, slender gentleman. 

“You look lost,” he quietly says, a completely different vibe from the rest of this place, taking me aback, “Do you need something?” 

“Uh, yes, actually,” I stammer a bit, not expecting someone to come out of thin air like that, “I’m actually here because some paperwork wasn’t completed when the bar opened.” 

“Oh!” his eyes go wide, “he will be the one you want to talk to, darling,” he says rather quickly, pointing towards the bar.

“Could I speak with Mr. Kiszka?” I ask, attempting to sound as confident as I can.

Suddenly, the two sat at the bar looked over to me, with the one behind the bar turning to me before, in unison, they asked, “Which one?” The long-haired ‘girl’ turned to reveal that I was, in fact, very wrong. How many long-haired men are in this bar right now? Jesus Christ. 

I looked into the folder, and seeing his name at the top, I thought, “Um, Jacob Kiszka, I’m sorry.” 

They both point at the one behind the bar, with his hair tied into a low bun, shirt halfway open, and towel tossed over his shoulder. He’s definitely not who I expected to run into here; I figured I would be dealing with a larger, burly sailor-type man who just quit working at the shipyard. 

“What do you need from me, dear?” his voice soft and raspy, which continued to throw me off. 

“Well, I’m sorry to do this to you randomly, Mr. Kiszka,” I start, with him quickly interjecting. 

“Mr. Kiszka is our father. Please call me Jake,” the three of them giggling at his comment. Are they all brothers? I mean, I guess they do look similar the harder I look at them.. Unimportant.

He extends his hand over the bar, and I quickly shift everything into the other arm to meet his. 

“Charlotte Rhodes,” I tell him, trying to focus on my grasp being firm on his hand. 

“Well, Jacob, unfortunately, you did not finish filling out some of this paperwork when you opened the bar officially,” I tell him, watching his smile falter a bit. This is the part I hate.

“I’ve been sent here to tell you what is needed from you. It shouldn’t take too long to get situated.” I start flipping through the paperwork, looking for the pages that he needs. 

“Jesus, Jake,” the long-haired one pipes up, “Paperwork’s the only thing fucking you right now, huh?” followed by the most accurate description of a “ha ha ha” laugh I’ve ever heard. 

“SAM,” the petite curly-headed one interjects, his eyes widening. “Not the time.” 

The one who I’ve now learned is Sam mutters, “Tough crowd,” under his breath. 

I inhale deeply, letting out a “Riiiiiiight” on the exhale. I grab a blank piece of paper from the folder, set it in front of myself, and scribble down little things to not forget. ‘Long hair, facial hair, taller = Sam.’ 

As I’m informing him, I watch a young woman waltz behind the bar, starting to wipe down wine glasses and put them away. She is minding her own business, but nonetheless, she’s behind the bar. 

“Um,” I pause, “Who is that?” I quietly ask, pointing at her subtly. 

I swear I watch the color in his face drain out like a cartoon. Oh no, he hasn’t filed paperwork for her either. Well, that’s karma for you! 

“I just hired her,” the subtle panic lacing his voice, “Uh, I just haven’t had time to, um,” he keeps stumbling over his words. One of his hands finds its place on the back of his neck, giving away that he’s getting overwhelmed. 

I don’t know what comes over me; I open the folder, pull out a packet of stapled paperwork, and flip through it. 

“According to your payroll, Joshua M Kiszka and Daniel R Wagner are the only two employees currently.” Noticing the handful of hired and terminated employees below them and choosing not to bring them up. 

“Only I call-” Sam speaks up, locking eyes with the girl behind the bar, “WE call him Daniel.” 

“Unfortunately, ‘Daniel’ is the only name I was provided,” I know my confusion is apparent on my face. What is going on here? He’s defending Daniel’s name but also grouping this girl into it.. Are they..? 

“The rest of us call him Dan or Danny,” the small one informs me. 

‘Don’t use Daniel, or Sam gets emotional.’ 

“I really don’t mind either way-” Daniel starts to speak, quickly interrupted by Sam. 

“No! That’s my- our name for you!” 

I feel a slight breeze as a slender, brown-haired girl swiftly passes me, walking directly up to Sam and grabbing his arm. 

She looked at me, her face twisted into an uncomfortable expression, and said, “I’m SO sorry about him.” Then she glanced at Jacob and said, “Good luck, Jake.” 

She tugged on his arm, and he stood up. Much taller than I was expecting, he grabbed his drink before walking away. 

“But Bird, she called him Daniel!”

“I’m very sorry, but can’t you see the professional pants she’s wearing? She’s IMPORTANT, Sam!”

“Why would I look at her pants?” 

“Just leave them alone!”

I quickly shake my head, trying to remember where I was in the original conversation before things got… weird. 

“Anyway,” I start, “You only have the two boys and yourself as employees, so if she is also bartending, you need to get her paperwork filled out. Otherwise, then you’re also violating payroll.” I’m watching him process everything I’ve told him, his eyes finally looking to meet mine. I can see the anxiety on his face. His eyes look so sad. 

“Um,” I turn to the small man beside me, “Do you mind giving us a minute?” 

“Absolutely. I’m Josh, by the way,” he reaches his hand out to shake mine, 

“Nice to meet you, Josh. I’m Charlotte.” I firmly shake his hand before he prances away to the booth where Sam, the girl who stole him away, and someone else is sitting. 

“I’m sorry about them, or well, all of this?” Jacob finally said, “I definitely didn’t realize that I hadn’t finished things. I double-checked even before submitting it. I really had no idea. This is the first business I’ve ever run, and I’m doing it alone, basically.” His voice is still riddled with panic, and it sounds like he’s trying to make sense of it in his head. 

I pull out a barstool, set the folder on the bar, and make myself comfortable in the seat. Trying to make myself seem less intimidating has always been funny to me, being a more petite girl. 

“I know you’re working, but the least I can do is offer you a drink,” he says, grabbing a glass from behind him and gently shaking it to get my approval.

“Well, thank you. Whatever is easiest for you, I appreciate it.” I start looking through the folder for what I need, realizing I don’t have everything. I can just email it to him. He seems nervous. I’m sure he’ll panic to get everything in order.  

“Wine? Beer?” 

“Actually, if you have bourbon, that would be fine.” 

I watch his eyes go from sad to almost excited. His emotions are evident on his face right now. The corners of his mouth slowly turn into a little smirk, letting out a laugh of disbelief. 

“That’s my kinda girl,” he says, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelf. 

Is it warm in here? Did he just- You’re working, Charlotte, get a grip. 

He sets the glass of amber liquid in front of me, still smiling to himself. 

“Okay, so is there anything else I messed up?” 

“Not to make things worse, but is she certified?” 

His eyes shut as his head drops back; I see his chest rise slowly and then fall, “Oh, I’m sure she isn’t.” 

“Okay, um, so that’s not as important. Let’s just get you situated with this stuff first?” Why are we being nicer to him? He’s clearly behind on everything; just let him have it.  

“Yeah, whatever I need to do. I really am sorry I didn’t do this before.” 

I’m literally ruining this guy’s entire day. Which is his fault. Well, yes, but he feels so bad about it. I’m more used to having owners storm off, not talk to me, or the opposite, yell directly into my face about it. Also, to be fair, I’m not used to bar owners being close in age to me. I’m definitely more accustomed to older gentlemen who would rather risk tax evasion than get their employees on an actual payroll. 

“It’s okay, Jacob,” I look back at him, setting the papers on the bar for him, “Honestly.” 

His eyes look back and forth between mine like he’s trying to decide if I’m lying. The only thing I’d be lying about is that he is kind of cute. Charlotte, you’re here to do your job and leave. Yes,  but he’s been very receptive and isn’t trying to degrade me for doing my job. Plus, his smile is pretty. 

‘Nice smile’

I take a sip of my drink and then surprise myself. 

“How about I leave all of this with you and come back in a few days to grab it? I’ll be in town for a little bit, and I don’t want to overwhelm you more than I already have.” Okay Charlotte? 

“That would be perfect,” he breathes a sigh of relief, “I can absolutely get everything sorted out. Thank you so much.” His voice is back to a more stable sound, and the anxiety seemingly has subsided. 

The door chime sounds off, causing him to glance over as a handful of people come in. I grab my phone from my bag, tapping the screen to reveal 6:07 p.m. Ah, everybody’s out of work. I watch as he looks back at the girl behind the bar, back at the customers, and then at me. 

“Mel,” he addresses her. Can you just find out what they want, and I’ll take care of it?” She salutes as she drops what she’s doing, mumbling, “Yes, Sir,” as she passes him. His eyes roll slightly at the comment, turning back to me. “I can have Josh clock in if you need me still.”

“No, you’re fine. I’m just going to finish doing some work, and this,” I tap my glass lightly, letting a small smile slip through. His face softens a bit at the gesture. 

“Okay, well, please just stop me if you need anything.” 

I scroll through my emails, continuing to make little notes for myself. This bar has been interesting so far, but, the longer I sit here, the more things continue to happen. I’ve just been trying to take in everything while I’m here. Places like this are few and far between. 

I look up from my phone to see Jacob fiddling with his hair, pulling the hair tie out slowly and sliding it down onto his wrist. He ran his fingers through his ends to loosely comb it out and then wrapped it back up into another little bun. His hair is so long? Also, it’s fun to watch a man pull out his baby hair. I didn’t think they knew about that.  

He flips the sink on, rolling his sleeves up slightly so they sit just above his elbows. I don’t mean to stare at him while he’s doing menial things, but something is holding my attention while he washes his hands that I can’t figure out.  

I try to focus on anything else, turning to see Josh walking up to Daniel with his hand held out. I can’t make out what they’re saying to each other, but Daniel grabs his hand and kisses his knuckles quickly, releasing Josh back into the chaos of the bar. Wait- so.. Who is actually with Daniel? 

A notification pops up on my phone, and it’s an email from my boss. 

‘Charlotte,

Again, I’m sorry to hear that you’re going to be out for a few days. How much time off do you want again? I know we just talked about this. Anyway, I hope everything goes smoothly with the Caravel Tavern. It’s a new business, so it would be a shame to see it go under quickly. I know you’ll give them hell, though.’

It’s a bit disheartening to see that the entire reason I was even coming to Portland has been dismissed, but I guess that’s just business for you. Not that I was necessarily excited to be here for a few days and not work, but at least be mindful of the reason. I offered to stop by to take care of this since I would be in the area, and maybe that should have been my sign that he didn’t care about whatever else I would be doing. 

“You okay over there, Red?” his small, raspy voice somehow cut through the chatter of the bar. I look up to find him opening a beer for someone and setting it on their napkin, his smile fully displayed for them. 

Taking a little sip of my drink, slowly becoming water with a hint of bourbon, I nod once. 

“You really run a tight ship around here, huh?” I say as he walks back over to me. Something in that moment shifts; I don’t know what it is. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, like the subtle compliment caught him truly off guard. I can’t read what emotion he’s feeling, but his eyes are conveying something different. 

“Uh, I do my best,” he finally choked out, “I probably drive them all crazy, but we’re still afloat, so something must be working.” 

Mel laughs as she’s drying glasses behind him, “You’re definitely something.” 

He slowly blinks with a tight smile at her comment, with a quick shake of his head. I lift my glass to my lips, taking the last bearable sip before it’s quite literally just water. 

“I think I’m going to head out,” I tell him, gathering the paperwork he needs, “I’ll leave this with you; if you can please try to get it done in the next couple of days, that would be great.” He just nods at my request. 

“Also, I didn’t have the physical paperwork on me to get Mel on your payroll but I can email the forms to you if that works?” 

“I will do whatever is easiest.” 

I’m still not used to someone cooperating as easily as he has. I came in too prepared for him to be an ass about everything, on top of surprising him with more issues. I’m grateful he isn’t making this more complicated than it needs to be. 

I fold the blank sheet, hide my notes about his brothers, and slide them to him with a pen.

“Here, can you write down your email and phone number for me?” I ask quietly.

“Trying to get my number already? We just met.” He smirks at me as I cringe internally. 

I just stare at him for a second too long, not able to come up with any sort of response to that. 

The silence is deafening between us as his cheeks flush, his eyes darting down to the paper. He swiftly grabs the pen, scribbling down his information for me, writing his name above them, ‘Jake,’ as if I would forget. 

He clears his throat before speaking, “Well, I need to, uh, go work on this, so,” his embarrassment slowly taking him over, “Drive safe, and I will see you, um, soon. Sorry about.. Everything today?” 

I choke back the laugh threatening to escape me, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than he’s made himself. But it was kind of cute watching him shove his foot in his mouth.  I tuck the paper into my bag, grabbing my things as I stand up from the barstool. 

“Oh,” I speak up, “how much do I owe you?” tapping the rim of my glass. 

He leans over, grabbing the glass with a slight smile on his flushed face, “I think you earned it; it’s on me.” 

“Well, thank you. Have a good night, Jacob. I’ll see you in a few days.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I hadn’t been to our lake house in a while—years, probably. We used to spend weeks at a time visiting the lake and spending time on the water. As I got older, so did my parents, we slowly stopped frequenting, but they would never get rid of it. I’ve spent countless hours convincing them to rent it out as an Airbnb, but they refuse. 

The roads are a little daunting at night, with so many sharp turns and practically no street lights. I suppose I should be used to living so far north, but I know that area well. I’ve never really had to drive myself around here; I was always in the backseat for this drive.

Pulling into our dirt driveway, there she is. Our sweet little house absolutely has seen better days, but that’s okay. It feels enough like home to make the next couple of days bearable.  I had been dreading this week, but even seeing the outside, in the dark no less, has made me feel a bit of relief. 

Walking through the mud room and into our kitchen, it smells like a basement. It’s apparent that none of us have visited in a while, and to be fair, it’s October at this point. It’s probably for the best that I’m here for a few days so I can clean things up, and then maybe, next time my parents come, it won’t seem as… musty. It will also distract me from my own brain. 

We do tend to get the better of you. Speak for yourself.

I toss my bags onto my old bed, unable to remember the last time I slept there. I finally sit, letting out a long sigh. Closing my eyes, I let my head drop back, letting the muscles stretch for a moment.  The sadness building up and threatening to escape, I grab my laptop from my bag; I need to be doing something. 

‘Hi,

Sorry for the late response. I stopped by the bar today. They had a lot going on, so I left the paperwork with him to fill out, and I’ll stop back there to grab it before coming home. He seemed eager to get everything done; he’s much younger than I think either of us anticipated. 

As for days off, I think at least this week, and then I’ll be good to go.’ 

I’m not particularly good at giving myself days off, but I love my job, so why would I not work? Also, I rarely have to really connect with people, so it makes it easier to just zone out and get my work done. It’s not often that we have to hound people for their paperwork, and even when we do, it’s usually for the new employees to do. It builds character, I guess. Having grown adults scream at you definitely gives you thick skin. 

Reaching down, I pull the folded paper out of my bag. Typing his email into the To: bar, attaching the documents he needs. 

‘Thank you for being so flexible about this. - Charlotte’ 

I added a subject line, ‘New Employee Payroll Forms’, and double-checked that everything was there. I hit send. Perfect, everything is done. 

Charlotte: Hi Jacob, sorry for the late text- I just sent over those forms to your email. If you can get those done ASAP, that would be wonderful. If you need assistance with anything, feel free to reach out. - Charlotte. 

Feel free to reach out? Why are you offering the opportunity for him to text you? It’s literally the least we can do; you saw how overwhelmed he was. 

I can see the way his face drained of color when I clocked Mel behind the bar. The way he stumbled over his words, his hand finding comfort on the back of his neck, probably to prevent from fidgeting endlessly. He definitely didn’t realize he had messed up. I don’t know why you feel bad, this happens to you all the time. 

I set my laptop on my nightstand and plug in my phone. Everything is done, so now I can just do what I need to. I take the time to make something small to eat and shower, killing just enough time and relaxing enough to where I’m about to sleep. I crawl into bed, pulling my hair up into a bun on the top of my head before snuggling in. 

I reach out to grab my phone and set an alarm for tomorrow morning. I opened my messages just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything or forgotten to reply to anybody. 

Unknown Number: oh don’t apologize. Thank you for being patient with me, i really appreciate it.

I tap on the number at the top, saving the number, ‘Jacob’. I lock my phone, placing it back on my nightstand. Staring up at the ceiling, I attempt to fall asleep. Replaying thoughts of her in my mind, I feel a slight prick in my eyes. Finally, I succumbed to the feeling. I’m not ready.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter One

Chapter Three

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[seenoversundown]

when I tell you that I have been working on a fic series, featuring all the boys, since AUGUST then what?? 🫣

[seenoversundown]

Reblogging for anybody who may have missed it 🥰

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Four

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Mentions of Death / Grief, Drinking, Sad / Anxious Themes, Shitty Dates, Potential spoilers for a rom-com that came out in 2006, brief conversation involving sex (very tame if you read fanfic regularly) and a tiny little taste of what's about to happen next week.

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary : Charlotte has the most unfortunate day ahead of her, but remembering fondly on better times helps her make it through. As one would say; the world works in mysterious ways.

Author's Note: I'm going to be so for real with you, I know the premise of this chapter is a bit on the heavier side. BUT- with that said, I did my best to not make it too difficult to read. I hope you enjoy learning a little more about my favorite red-haired beauty. 🧡 (There's very few HEAVY chapters in The Caravel Tavern Series and sadly, Ms Charlotte has at least 2 of them)

Portland Maine - Donovan Woods "Leave your bags in the car, keep it running, I won't pretend, That I won't miss this."

I never knew what people meant when they said they felt numb until today. It feels like I hardly slept last night, but I did end up lying in bed for a while this morning. After I convinced myself to get up, I reluctantly made some coffee, took a shower, blew out my hair, and made it look presentable again. 

I’m sitting in front of my mirror with all my makeup splayed out in front of me. Carefully clipped my hair back so I didn’t mess up the loose waves I spent time working on. I look at myself, taking a deep breath; my under-eyes are dark from the lack of sleep. God, I don’t want to do this. 

I slowly work through my makeup routine, pausing every so often to fight back the tears that threaten to fall. With every step, I look more and more like a normal person. I set my mascara tube back into its place, taking a second to look at how everything looks. I hold a breath, closing my eyes gently as it leaves my body.   

And then there I stood in my closet, staring at all the options. Choosing an outfit is usually a highlight of my day, but today was certainly not one of those days. I still haven’t said it out loud; it makes it too real. I never thought I would be in a position where I had to mourn a friend, a best friend. My best friend. 

Unfortunately, accidents happen, and generally speaking, I handle those well. I am not doing well in this specific instance, but she would want me to go stun at her service. The thought makes me laugh, even in the midst of the saddest time. 

I can hear her in my head, yelling, “Lottie! If you don’t wear a bomb pantsuit, I’ll haunt your ass!” I let out a small laugh at the thought. She always has a way of doing that. I pull out some tapered black pants, a black cotton T-shirt, and a blazer, I feel like she’d be happy with this, I think to myself as I put on the gold necklace she bought me.  

Checking myself one more time in the mirror, “Okay, I think I’m ready,” I mumble to myself. I grab my bag and my keys and head out. 

The drive feels surreal. It’s something that nobody is ever prepared for, and as much as I know that, I really thought I would be better at this. Trying to focus on anything besides the situation, I have the music turned up insanely loud, the window is cracked for fresh air, and I’m sipping on the coffee I brought. I enjoy the scenery as best as I can, trying to find the silver lining on this day. Thankfully, the weather isn’t terrible today, so there’s… something. I just embrace the feeling of the sun on my skin with the cool autumn breeze. 

I pull into the parking lot, shut off my car, and just stare at the building with others dressed in all black wandering in. I take a minute to just sit here, mentally preparing myself for the service. I won’t pretend that I won’t miss her, but in my head, she’s never really gone. She would be yelling, ‘Your ass is stuck with me for life.’  I let out a small laugh at the thought. 

I look up at the sky as I walk towards the door, “You’re lucky I love you so much,” I whisper to myself, and her, before grabbing the door handle to the funeral hall.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

3 Months Ago..

I carefully walk back into my living room, handing one wine glass over to her. She quickly cheers my glass as I go to sit down. I take a little sip before setting it on a coaster. 

“What are we cheers-ing?” 

“Actually getting to hang out, for once!” 

Truth be told, I can be a pain in the ass to plan time with. I spend a lot of my time working and ignoring my personal life. Not the healthiest habit, now is it Char?  

“I’m the worst. I’m sorry,” I cringe as I pull up Netflix. 

She laughs loudly, something I’ve always loved about her, “at least you’re self-aware.” 

“I’m choosing to pretend you didn’t agree,” I scroll over to our favorite movie, “shall we?” 

I don’t know why we became so attached to John Tucker Must Die, but now it’s almost a tradition to watch it if we have a night together. Maybe it’s because we both have had our fair share of terrible men in our lives or because we have bonded over the hatred of a single person. Regardless, we make it a point to always watch it when we have the chance. 

“So, are you still seeing that one dude?” She asks, a half smirk on her face. 

I can’t tell her fast enough, “Oh GOD, no. Never again.”

“He seemed a bit.. boring.”

“He had ZERO personality. About as exciting as the fourteen tan suits that he owns,” I feel a little bad making fun of him, but my god, he was dreadful. 

“He was also mid in bed.. and that’s giving him credit.” I shrug, taking a sip of my drink to hide my smile. 

“LOTTIE!” 

“CASSIE!” 

We both laugh until tears are falling down our faces. 

“I’m sorry!” I giggle, “But you shouldn’t start things you can’t finish.” Covering my mouth because I also can’t believe I said that. 

“Amen, girl!” 

We’ve spent most of our adult lives confiding in each other about everything. Every new job, family drama, bad date. We both know the ins and outs of each other’s sex lives because sometimes it’s so humorous that you have to tell someone. 

The two of us have been close since we met at our first job in high school. Dairy Queen wasn’t the most exciting place to work, especially during summer break, because you just can’t get the smell of melted ice cream out of your clothes. After countless shifts working together, we bonded and inevitably started talking outside of work. Realizing quickly that we were incredibly different, but it also made it fun. I kept her focused when it was busy, and she helped me to loosen up when we weren’t on the clock. 

“Have you tried just meeting someone organically? Or are you ‘too busy’ ?” She says the second half in a mocking tone. 

I roll my eyes quickly, “My job just takes up a lot of time, so dating apps seem to be easiest.” 

“I know you’re going to hate this, but,” she starts, “it’s just a job, babe. You’re allowed to take time for yourself or, in this case, to find someone.” 

“No, I know.. I just-” 

She cuts me off, “There’s no ‘I just’ anymore, girl. You’ll burn yourself out on this job if you don’t make time for yourself.” 

I put both of my hands up to surrender, “Okay, you’re right.” We both sink back into the couch and giggle through the rest of this ridiculous movie. 

Cassie is a free spirit, something I wish I could learn to be. She always had a positive approach to things, not in the sickeningly sweet way, either; just genuinely, she saw the good in the world. She did not care about other people’s opinions; she wore whatever she wanted, followed her dreams, and did whatever she wanted. 

It was always funny to me when we were out in public together. Her outfits were always fun and colorful, and she wasn’t afraid to try new things. Then there’s me, borderline-looking professional at any given point. I love neutrals and looking put together. Maybe it was just to give the front that I knew what I was doing, but nonetheless, I enjoyed a pantsuit. People would always watch her. She’s beautiful, to be fair, but how she carries herself is incredible.

She is really the only person I consistently keep up with. We text each other from the moment we wake up until someone passes out, usually waking up to a bunch of things unread from the early hours of the morning. Nothing would stop us from staying close, though, not even going to different colleges, having entirely different careers, or living two hours apart. 

Watching Kate throw cake at John will never not make us hard-laugh; he deserved every ounce of it. Both of us are kicking our feet over Scott, coming around to be her lab partner again, and calling her perfect. Ugh, he’s an angel. 

“Y’know, Lottie,” she giggles, “Maybe you just need to find a Scott of your own.”

Sitting up from my corner of the couch, “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s be honest here. You always go for the John type.. Maybe you need a Scott.” 

I can’t deny that I tend to go for that type, but I have my reasons. Because you’re a bit neurotic..? Excuse me? I just know what I like and don’t like. 

“You’re not wrong.”

“Just give it a try,” her voice changing into a more empathetic tone, “Stop thinking yourself out of happiness for once.” Her hand landed on mine, giving it a double pat before looking back up at me. 

“Alright, alright.” I can’t deny that she could be onto something. I’m just bad at accepting change. “If I run into someone who is giving ‘Scott’ vibes, I will give it a shot. But I’m not making any promises that it’ll work.” 

She lets out a feral squeal, “Oh my god, I can see it now! Some kind-hearted, nerdy, long-haired man just sweeping you off your feet!” She falls over dramatically with her hand on her forehead, like a Victorian woman in a silk robe falling onto velvet sofas. We fall into a fit of giggles as she tells me her entire vision of what my life could become. 

“You just deserve a man who’s as much of a hopeless romantic as you are,” she says through a laugh. 

“Hey now! Just because I read romance doesn’t mean that I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“Lottie, I don’t know who you’re trying to convince here.” 

I hate it when she’s right. I do have a soft spot for romantic things. Something about finding the right person at the right time, just feels like it only happens in books or movies. Meeting the love of your life by chance feels so foreign in our time, because everything is through dating apps and the internet. 

“I just don’t think I’ll find a man who compares to any of the love interests in my books, you know? I have to stay realistic, Cass.” 

She rolls her eyes at me, “I’m sure one exists out there. You just need to open your eyes more. Stop dating Finance Bros,” she barks out a laugh, “They are definitely not written by women nor do they know how to treat one.” 

“Ugh.. I know you’re right,” I confess, “I don’t even know how to meet people organically.” Dramatically throwing myself back onto the couch, covering my eyes with my hands. 

“We will get you all dolled up and hit the Old Port one of these weekends,” she pulls me back up, “I’m sure we can find you a man in one of those bars. You’re too sexy– there’s no chance you won’t catch a few looks.”

My face hot instantly at her compliment, “As long as you approve of him, I’ll do it. That’s the agreement from now on.” She sticks her hand out, taking mine and rapidly shaking it. 

“Yes, yes, yes! This is what I’ve been dreaming of!” she hollers through my apartment, “I get to turn my shy little Lottie into someones WIFE!”  

We’re a few glasses of wine deep at this point. 

“So I went on a date with this guy,” Cassie starts, struggling to hold in her laugh, “I wish I could explain to you how bad.” 

“Oh god, PLEASE.” 

“The first red flag that I so nicely ignored was that he didn’t even dress cute! He wore sweatpants, girl,” both of us borderline screaming at the statement. 

“Also, his name is Jeff,” she cringes. “I feel like I should have KNOWN.” 

I finally cave, “What actually happened on the date?” 

“Literally nothing. He only like half listened to me, we went to a bar with TVs and he was fully focused on whatever sport was on.” Rolling her eyes as she tells me. 

“That’s SO annoying!”

She took a sip of her wine and swallowed it quickly, “HONESTLY— I even had the girls out, trying to look a little cuter than normal.”

“Well, that’s terrible that it didn’t work out. I’m sure you looked way too hot for him anyway.” She literally looks hot all the time, he’s a fool to not notice that. 

Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, “Oh girl, I still invited him back.”

“CASS-“ I scream. 

“Hey— sometimes you just need to get laid!” She says matter of factly. 

“I guess I can’t argue that.. he couldn’t have been very good?” 

“Oh god- he literally didn’t even try to take control. A whole pillow princess if I’ve ever met one.” 

I can’t stop the scream that escapes me, making her laugh with me. 

After she comes to, “It’s okay, at least I know my way around. Still managed to get off even if it was looking like I had a small window before it was done.” 

“How fast did he leave after?” I have to ask. 

“Oh, he ran out of there. Definitely is just looking to get his dick sucked, nothing serious.” 

“Well, for your sake, hopefully, it was worth it.” 

After a few more hours, we fell asleep on my couch. It was a pretty typical situation for us. We just get so caught up in giggling and being around each other that we lose track of the time. We would always take advantage of the times we get to actually hang out since they were becoming less frequent. 

We spent the morning sipping coffee together before she needed to head back home. She pulled me into a hug, swaying me back and forth for a minute before getting into her car. 

“I love you, Lottie!” 

“I love you too,” I tell her, “Let me know when you make it home, okay?” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The sun feels good on my skin; I’ve been sitting in my car with the door open for 20 minutes. The slight breeze made it so it wasn’t too warm, just baking in the sun. Her service was beautiful, and the room was full of people there to celebrate how wonderful of a person she was. I couldn’t have asked for anything better except to have her here instead. 

Decompressing before I decide what to do next since I’m already in the city She would tell me to do some retail therapy to get my mind off of it, which is honestly sounding pretty good right now. She was always good at talking me down when I got into my head about something. Even if it was just trying to make me laugh because she knew that I was being dramatic about whatever it was. 

 I grab my phone out of my bag to see if I can convince myself to spend some money irrationally for a small dose of serotonin. 

Jacob: Hi there. I have been trying to get through this paperwork and I think I’m just lost on what I need to be doing. I don’t know if you are nearby and want to stop in or you can literally just call me that’s also fine. I just don’t want to mess things up again. Let me know whichever works for you.

I mull over the options of working right now or shopping; unfortunately, I know what my body is going to end up doing. I can’t not help him, especially since he was so nice to me about the whole thing anyway. I swipe out of my texts, pulling up maps and typing in the address. 

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Even just driving through Portland felt weird now. It was always the two of us; C2 is what we call ourselves. Even if she always called me ‘Lottie,’ leaving people confused most of the time. She lived nearby, so the biggest reason for me to come here was her. We would usually end up ordering takeout and camping out on her couch, but on the rare occasion, we would go to the Old Port for drinks. Never remembering much past midnight though, I can’t imagine how ridiculous we looked. I really hope nobody ever saw us.

I park down the street from the bar, giving myself a minute to mentally prepare. The clock in my car shows 3:15 pm; this shouldn’t take too long. Hopefully, I can get home before it’s too dark. I open my bag, seeing the ‘in memoriam of Cassandra..’ sticking out. I pull it out, looking at the photo of her on the front. 

“You look good, Cass,” my throat tight as I whisper it into the quiet of my car, “I miss you so much.” I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to cry again. Get it together; you need to be professional. 

I set it down on the passenger seat, not wanting it to get crumpled up in my bag. I grab my phone and start walking to the bar. I really hope it’s quiet in there since it’s so early in the afternoon. The quicker I help him, the sooner I can get out of this city. 

I pull open the door to the bar, but only a few people are scattered throughout. Perfect, this should be smooth sailing. I walk towards the bar as Jacob turns around, pulls out his phone, and then disappears behind the bar quickly. It’s hard to deny that he’s a handsome guy, but it still catches me off guard that he is the owner of this place. 

“I didn’t think I would see you today,” is all I can really hear as he drops down, aside from the sounds of rustling paperwork. I can hear the vague sounds of his mumbling, but nothing is clear. I set my bag on the barstool next to me, deciding to not sit down just in case it’s a quick question. He stands back up, his eyes finding mine. He’s quiet for a moment, what feels like forever, as his face falters and his eyes scan all over me. Don’t ask me, don’t ask me, don’t ask me.  Watching as his eyebrows pulled together, I knew exactly what was about to happen. 

He asked me that godforsaken question, “Are you okay?” in his soft, raspy voice. Shit.  It felt like a punch to the gut, leaving me winded. I’ve avoided the question for two weeks because I knew the moment someone asked, it wouldn’t go over well. I really can’t even fault him for asking. If anything, it’s sweet that he noticed that something was off.

I breathe in slowly, feeling the prick of tears in my eyes again. Trying to muster up everything in me to answer confidently. For the love of God, don’t cry. 

“Um,” my shaky breath comes out as my voice fails me. Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, barely above a whisper. No, I’m not. Who am I kidding? My heart pounds in my chest despite feeling like it’s shattered. The silence between us felt like forever until I heard a door opening.

We both look over quickly, seeing Josh come around the corner before Jacob comes out from behind the bar. Grabbing my bag and placing his hand on my back, he guides me towards his office. He lets me into the small room first and sets my bag on the chair before turning to me. Oh no. The way his eyes are full of worry as they meet mine; I pull my hands up to hide my face, unprepared for my emotions to betray me. 

A sob escapes me, louder than I would have liked. My chest aches. The sound of the door shutting was immediately drowned out by the feeling of his arms pulling me into him, his hand holding my head gently against him before he whispered the words that I knew would haunt me. 

“Oh, honey.” 

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Chapter Three

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