#had to make a few last-minute tweaks because | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theemporium · 4 months ago

Text

[5.6k] an attack in the winter break leaves max reeling as he tries to cope with a new and furrier version of himself. the world seems to think mad max is returning to them but your presence says otherwise.

[find other fright night specials here]

It had been a completely normal day when Max Verstappen had his whole life changed.

Or as normal as it could be on a cold, wet January day in England during the winter break.

The run up to the season had been weighing down on everyone’s shoulders, last minute tweaks and changes and updates being made in hopes of making a car that will continue to dominate the grid. The factory has been busy, day in and day out. With less than a month until the car launch, it felt like everyone was working themselves to the bone to get the car ready.

Max was no different. Though, it was less about data sheets and car parts for him, and more about practising on the sim until he was beating the previous laps he set. He liked having feedback to give to the team, he liked feeling like he was contributing to the early mornings and late nights. He liked feeling useful to the team.

He ignored most of GP’s warnings about running himself down on the late nights, waving the older man off with a smile and a promise he wouldn’t stay much later. And it was partially true, he didn’t stay too late.

No later than you did.

Because if there was someone equally as determined and dead-set on giving this car everything they had like he was, it was you.

It had become a routine between the two of you on those late nights where you were the only ones left in the factory. Max would finish up at the sim, make his way towards your office on the other side of the factory where he would walk you to your car, chatting your ear off about anything other than engineering and cars and data to help get your mind off work. Even if it was for a few short minutes.

There were some days where the two of you would sit in one of your cars for a bit, to just talk. Other days, one of you was too tired to drag the night out further. It varied but it all fit the norm.

Just like that day.

The flickering street lights accompanied you both as you made your way towards the car park, with Max nodding and laughing along to some story you had been telling him about one of the other engineers. At first, he thought he had imagined the growl—one of those instances that could be brushed off with wind and bushes and the darkness around them that made everything look a bit scarier.

But then he heard it again. And he saw a flash in his peripheral vision. And next thing he knew, a large beast appeared out of thin air and was heading straight towards you and Max’s body reacted with pure instinct and quick reflexes to shove you out of the way before the beast tackled him to the floor.

It was a blur after that.

Hot, searing pain exploding through his body. Blood roaring in his ears. His heart pounding so fast in his chest. The white dots blurring his vision as he tried to turn his head away from the beast. The glimpses of fear and horror on your face before his vision had gone black.

The biggest concern at that moment was whether or not Max would be okay. If he would be able to compete at the start of the season. If he would be able to continue at all. If the public would somehow find out and expose the story before Red Bull could even prepare a statement.

The beast was the last thing on either one of your mind’s that night.

But when Max woke up the next morning, completely unscathed with only his bloody, ripped clothes as a reminder of the previous night. The two of you knew there was more to that beast than a normal animal attack, that you were dealing with something beyond your imagination.

Max Verstappen didn’t expect to go into the next season worrying how in loving fuck he was going to balance being a Formula One driver and being a werewolf.

Despite what critics and idiots behind a phone screen like to think, Formula One was a very physically taxing sport. Max had spent the better part of his whole life giving his body to training and endurance so he could compete at the level he does. Most athletes are more in tune to their bodies and their wants and needs than the average person, and Max was one of them. He knew his body. He knew his limits. He knew strengths. He knew his weaknesses.

That knowledge was completely useless when he became a werewolf.

One attempt at a workout and a dented metal bar later told Max that this whole werewolf thing came with a lot more setbacks than he realised. He understood pretty quickly that this wasn’t something he wanted to get out to the general public. He didn’t know how it would be perceived—hell, he wasn’t even sure how he perceived it.

But someone had to know. He couldn’t hide it for the rest of the season.

In the end, a few select people in his team knew about his lycanthropy and they worked together to keep it hidden from everyone else.

It was a mindfuck working with Rupert to sort out a whole new workout plan, to evaluate his newfound strength and other abilities, to learn his body all over again at the age of twenty-seven. It was weird having to explain to GP, a man who he considered his brother, that he was no longer the man he was before the winter break—that he was hardly a man at all, anymore. It was fucking weird having to look you in the eye and see the conflict of emotions on your face whenever you saw him, whenever you replayed the way he saved you from the same beast that created him.

It was fucking weird.

But he could learn. Resilience and perseverance were two traits Max learnt at a very young age. He didn’t give his whole life to this sport just to throw it away because of his newfound—and unwanted—lifestyle. He refused to let it ruin more than it had. He was a werewolf but that didn’t mean he was going to give everything else up. He would deal with his lycanthropy like he did with other problems in his life—privately and out of the spotlight.

He just failed to realise that something could risk that privacy.

And he failed to realise it would be his own short temper that could possibly expose him.

…

Preseason testing taught the team a lot about the car.

Yet, all Max was learning was that the car was shit, the media were nosy and his patience was nonexistent with every human interaction he had outside of the team garage. He could feel his skin prickle whenever a camera was pointed at him or a microphone was shoved in front of him or his name was called out.

He thought the glare on his face would be enough to keep people away but it was wishful thinking. He was the reigning world champion and he was driving, what was seeming to be, a hopeless car. It was a journalist’s wet dream.

“Your eyes.”

Max clenched his jaw, ripping the balaclava over his head. “I’m not glaring.”

“Not that,” GP hissed, trying to pull Max to the side, away from the cameras peering into the garage. “Your eyes.”

Max huffed. “Stop talking in fucking riddles, mate.”

“They are yellow,” GP whispered frantically. “Like your—“

“Fuck,” Max groaned, snapping his eyes shut as he let out a deep breath. “Fuck, what? Why? It’s not a full moon. It shouldn’t—”

“There’s a lot that shouldn’t happen with you that does,” GP pointed out, feeling the glare from Max behind his closed eyelids. “We need to get you out of here.”

“They will see,” Max replied.

“Put your helmet on.”

“Yeah,” Max snorted. “Because that won’t be fucking obvious.”

GP sighed. “Well—”

“What’s happening?”

Despite not being able to see you, Max still turned his head towards you, almost instinctively. He could feel your hand on his arm, warm and comforting and—

“His eyes look like glow sticks,” GP muttered.

“So he says,” Max bit back, because he was annoyed and pissed off and GP was the easiest target.

“He’s trying to help,” you scolded lightly, your thumb swiping back and forth, almost passively like you didn’t realise what you were doing. “Let me see.”

GP straightened. “That’s risky—”

“Let me see.”

Max let out a shaky breath, slowly blinking his eyes open until you came into focus.

“Blue,” you said with a soft, reassuring smile. “They are blue now.”

Max’s shoulders dropped with relief.

“Get him back to his driver’s room before it happens again,” GP murmured.

Max bristled, a looming realisation that he was essentially being grounded by his race engineer making his skin feel prickly. But he couldn’t disagree, it was already a close call with his eyes flashing in the garage. He didn’t need the cameras catching it either.

“If anyone asks, we will say Helmut lost his mind and made you wear contacts whilst you drive,” you teased, keeping your hand on his arm as you waited for him to grab his things.

Max huffed out a laugh. “I’m sure he will like that.”

“You’ll protect me,” you grinned back at him.

And yeah, Max would.

…

The next close call happened after the season had started.

The car had been improved since the shit show that was the preseason testing weekend, but it wasn’t all that great either. Max knew it was a process, knew the team were reaching the point of getting the car to a truly competitive and dominant state. It just took time and he just needed to be patient.

But patience wasn’t something Max had a lot of these days.

All in all, a podium wasn’t bad with the state of the car currently. However, Max knew that the media would be ready to push back, to insist the reigning world champion should be on the top step and not the third, that he should have all the answers to his own failures.

He could feel it.

He could feel the shift in his gums as his canines pushed through, pushed against the confinement of his helmet. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the crowd booing over the blood roaring in his ears. He felt like the whole world had been dialled up to a hundred the second he stepped out the car after pulling up behind the number three sign.

He could feel it.

He could feel the way his team reached out for him. He could feel their hands patting his back like it didn’t make his whole body tense. He could feel their hands patting his helmet like it didn’t make his head feel like it was spinning. He could feel their hands reaching to hold his neck, to bring him closer, to suffocate him more.

He could feel it. He could feel it. He could—-

“Another trophy to add to the shelf?”

Max’s head snapped around to see you on the other side of the barrier, headset still around your neck and a smile on your face that made the third place feel a little less pathetic.

“Probably hidden in the back,” Max managed to mutter out, somewhat muffled by his helmet and the chaos around you both.

“Surprised you have enough space,” you joked, teasing and lighthearted and so distracting that Max almost didn’t feel the way your hand covered his gloved hands, the way your thumb swiped over the tips of his fingers.

He hadn’t even noticed his claws retracting, hadn’t even noticed them ripping through the material of the gloves in the first place.

“Oh,” was all he could say.

“I’ll take care of it,” you assured him, not risking any more with so many people and cameras and microphones. “Go enjoy the podium.”

“You’re gonna stay here?” Max asked, something in his chest twisting at the idea you would have to run off back to the garage, to the screens and data sheets and computers and away from him.

“I always do.”

…

It took a few months into the season before a race weekend aligned with a full moon.

Truthfully, it hadn’t even been a risk that Max considered which, in hindsight, was probably pretty stupid. It should have been one of the first things on his mind the second he realised what he was. It should have been a top priority after his first full moon, somewhere in late January—a night full of pain and discomfort, an experience Max didn’t want to repeat but knew he would have to.

Ignorance was bliss and all that jazz.

Yet, it was the Canadian Grand Prix where Max found himself battling more than just the championship that weekend.

He was lucky enough that it wasn’t a night race but that didn’t change the fact he was snappy all weekend, more so than usual. He was irritant and annoyed and perpetually fighting the growing pain through the weekend as it got closer to the full moon on Sunday night.

GP asked if it was safe for him to even race in this state.

Max, honest to god, snapped his teeth at the older man in response.

It was tense and suffocating in the Red Bull garage.

No one seemed to question Max’s awful mood any more than it was expected. A few people poked and prodded but the gritted, sharpy responses they received in response was enough to make most people back off. It was being played off as jet lag, a bad quali session and a grid penalty that didn’t feel all that deserved.

Max was adamant he could race and deal with the full moon. He wasn’t going to let it ruin his career, the sport that he loved and adored and had given his life to. He wasn’t going to let it get the better of him, even if that meant just being snappier than usual to the media.

And despite GP and Rupert’s concerns, Max was coping well.

Until lap 57 happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HIM?!”

“Max, stay calm.”

“I’M FUCKING LAPPING HIM! IS HE FUCKING STUPID?”

“Max,” GP tried again but his voice was a muffled buzzing in his ears, hardly coherent over the anger and adrenaline and rage rushing through him. His body was acting on muscle memory alone as his car dragged on, as it crawled into the pits before he rushed back out.

He refused to listen to GP telling him to retire the car.

He refused to let that fucker in the Alpine think he could fuck his race and get away with it.

He refused—

“He’s growling,” GP hissed, hand covering the microphone and his voice dropping as he leaned over to where you sat on the pit wall beside him. His lips barely moved, not with the way the cameras were laser-focused on him and his reaction to Max disobeying the orders that were broadcasted to everyone watching.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pulling your headset off and reaching for his. “Hand it over.”

GP frowned. “I don’t think this is going to work—”

“Trust me,” you insisted.

Conflicting emotions swirled in his eyes before he ripped his headset off, muttering something under his breath before he handed it to you.

“—FUCKING DICKHEAD JUST—”

“Max?”

There were a few moments of silence and, for a brief moment, you wondered if the connection had cut. You wondered if he had somehow disconnected the radio from his side, you almost turned to ask GP if it was possible to do before you heard his heavy breathing.

“I know you’re upset,” you continued, taking the chance and hoping he was listening. “It was a bad move. But you’re a good driver, a great one even. You can save this race. I know you can. Focus on the racing, not the rest.”

Your words were careful and precise, painfully aware that the radio messages were probably being broadcasted. You knew whatever you said would be picked apart by the media and public, dissected under a microscope. But despite your caution, your only focus was making sure Max was okay.

“Breathe and win,” you said, your eyes watching the racing feed on the screen in front of you. “I know you can.”

It was completely silent beyond the sounds of the car until—

“I can. I will.”

You bit back your smile. “Good. I want to see you on the top step, Verstappen.”

He did, in fact, go on to win the race. The celebration with the team was postponed as he spent the night in aggravating, uncomfortable pain—alone, suffering, excruciating. He refused to let any of you stay with him, to see him in that state, just like he did every full moon since the attack.

But he still won and that was something nobody could take away from him.

...

Despite his success in Canada, it was clear the outbursts and frequent accidental exposures of his wolf were becoming a problem.

It was something he needed to get better at controlling if he wanted to continue the way he was, if he wanted to keep his lycanthropy away from the greedy hands of the journalists. This was his life now, it was something he had to accept and learn and grow with.

It was just a little hard to do when he didn’t know how.

“This is stupid.”

Rupert sighed, ignoring the glare Max was currently staring into the side of his head as he continued to hook the heart monitor onto him. “It is no different to when we do this for your training.”

“Except this time you are purposefully pissing me off instead of torturing me,” Max bit back.

“We want to help,” GP corrected, leaning against the wall opposite of him. “You need to learn how to control the wolf side of you.”

Max scoffed. “Maybe people should stop being stupid then.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” GP snorted before getting a nod of confirmation from Rupert that they were ready to go. “Okay. We are going to start easy, alright?”

Max nodded.

GP glanced down at the laptop in front of Rupert that had Max’s current heart rate showing before looking back at the driver. “Following the incident with Pierre Gasly in the Canadian Grand Prix, do you think you should be more careful when lapping cars?”

Max let out a noise of disagreement. “What the fuck? Why should I be careful? It’s not my fault he is slow!”

“I’m sure the PR team will love that response,” GP deadpanned, watching as Max’s heart rate started to speed up. “The stewards deemed it a racing incident.”

“And the stewards are fucking stupid,” Max snapped back. “I was lapping him. I had priority. Everyone knows that. It’s their job to know that too.”

The heart rate continued to increase and GP could have sworn he saw a flash of yellow in Max’s eyes.

“Max, control it,” Rupert reminded him.

“I’m trying,” he gritted out.

“They are going to keep poking, Max,” GP continued. “They did it before and they will do it again. They will push and push and push until they get the reaction they want, the one that fits their agenda.”

Max growled in response.

“I know you’ve seen it already,” GP said, listening to the beeps of the heart monitor get faster and faster. “Mad Max is back. He is unpredictable. Unhinged. That’s the story they want and that’s the one you are giving them.”

Max’s breaths were getting heavier. “They don’t know—”

“Exactly, they don’t know,” GP pointed out. “And we don’t want them to know so you have to learn how to control it before you wolf out on them. Before you let them win.”

His eyes were bright and glowing and yellow, a flash of sharp teeth under his curling lip as he growled and snarled and—

“I’m here! I’m here! Sorry, I’m late, I was getting coffee. Did we start yet?”

It was like a flip had switched.

GP and Rupert watched the scene in front of them like it happened in slow motion. The way Max seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice. The way the glowing eyes and sharp teeth seemed to slowly morph back to the Max they knew. The way the rage and anger and frustration was nowhere to be seen by the time you walked into the room, a tray of coffee and a bag of pastries in each hand.

You stood there, watching the three of them stare at you with mixed expressions. “What? What did I miss?”

“Interesting,” GP commented. “Very, very interesting.”

…

“You like her.”

Max let out a string of curse words, almost knocking the mugs of hot water over before he put the kettle down and turned to face his race engineer with wide eyes. Heightened senses aside, he didn’t hear GP sneaking into the kitchen. Or even realise he had been watching Max mutter away to himself for the last five minutes.

“Fucking hell, mate,” Max grumbled, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“And don’t change the topic,” GP retorted with a knowing look. “You like her, don’t you?”

Max hated the way he could feel the tips of his ears start to burn. “Like who?”

GP raised his brows in response.

Max deflated, his shoulders dropping. “Look, I know what you’re going to say—”

“I think she’s good for you,” GP interrupted.

Max blinked. “Okay, maybe I didn’t know what you were going to say.”

“She’s your anchor,” GP noted, his lips twitching upwards. “I had my suspicions but today confirmed it.”

“Anchor?” Max repeated with a frown. “Mate, is that not a news thing? She’s an engineer—”

“No, I—” GP let out a deep sigh, muttering something under his breath. “God give me strength. I mean that she helps ground you, helps you differentiate Human Max and Wolf Max.”

“Oh,” was all Max managed to mutter out.

“She’s good for you,” GP repeated with a soft smile. “And she understands you. Maybe if you tell her, we can work something out and—”

“No.”

He frowned. “No?”

“No,” Max repeated, blunt as ever. “I’m not telling her anything and neither will you.”

GP’s frown deepened. “Max—”

“No, you don’t get it. She…” The boy trailed off, swallowing harshly as he tried to voice his thoughts. “You didn’t see what happened that night.”

“Max—”

“I saved her,” Max stated. “I saved her and she’s only here because she probably feels guilty. I…I don’t want to tell her and make her feel like she has to feel the same because I almost died or something.”

“You liked her before,” GP pointed out. “Is it so hard to believe that maybe she felt the same? That she cared about you way before you jumped in front of a werewolf for her?”

Max clenched his jaw. “Drop it. I’m not telling her and neither are you.”

GP sighed but he knew it was pointless to fight the stubborn boy over it.

“And she doesn’t find out about this anchor nonsense,” Max added, turning around and busying himself with the mugs on the counter. “We’ll find another way.”

…

GP’s words about you being his anchor rung on a loop inside his head as the next race weekend approached.

The Spanish Grand Prix was always quite a hectic one on the schedule. The fans were wild and passionate. There was usually more of a buzz around the world championship by this point, an insight into a real fight after nine races. And it brought back good memories, wanted memories of his first ever race win.

It was a reminder why he was here, why he kept coming back every weekend. He wanted to race and he wanted to win and he wanted to be successful. He wasn’t going to let the lycanthropy stop him.

And even if he would never admit it, GP was right.

You were his anchor, you calmed the angry, rapid wolf inside him. It was like everything he felt around you when he was human was amplified. He felt seen, accepted. You took him for how he was, not how you wanted or expected him to be.

You saw Max—not the racing driver or the face of F1’s current dominance.

You just saw him.

It was hard to feel anything but relaxed and calm around you, to know that his words weren’t going to be overanalysed or thrown back in his face.

“You ready for this race?”

Max gripped his helmet a little tighter, fighting the urge to lean back against your touch as he felt your palm between his shoulder blades. He turned to look at you, smiling a little at the clear concern on your face. Like you were prepared to find a way to postpone the whole race if he said no.

“The car’s been good all weekend,” Max replied, biting back his laugh when you rolled your eyes.

“I wasn’t talking about the car,” you grumbled, scoffing. “Obviously the car is good. I was working on it.”

He beamed. “I’m good. Promise.”

“You gonna win?”

“For you? Always.”

Max took deep satisfaction in the way your heart skipped a beat at his words.

“I’ll be happy whatever you end up,” you told him earnestly, your hand squeezing his shoulder and he had the oddest urge to keep your hand there, to place his own over yours.

Max swallowed harshly. “But you deserve a podium so that’s what I’m gonna get you.”

You laughed, the sound easing something in his chest. “You’re cute when you’re cocky.”

He barely got a chance to process your response as you headed towards the pitwall, prepared for the race ahead and leaving the boy glued to his spot, blushing like mad.

For what it’s worth, he did win the race.

…

Things were going smoothly until the British Grand Prix.

Max had been able to keep the wolf inside him subdued and relaxed through the first two races of the triple header. He was racing well, he was being polite to the media, he was acting like the Max before the accident.

And despite his history and previous experiences at Silverstone and the ever loyal British fans, he didn’t think things would be all that different this year. He would maybe get booed, maybe have a few more probing questions. But nothing more than that.

Nothing quite like this.

It was Friday when it happened.

Max thought the worst of the weekend—media day—had been put behind him. He was ready to get back in the car, he was ready to make the triple header a three-for-three and win Silverstone. He was ready for a somewhat normal race weekend, one where the focus would be on the five Brits on the grid rather than him (especially with it being Ollie’s rookie season).

Sometimes, he forgot just how passionate fans could be. He forgot just how insane they could be too.

The whole thing felt like it happened in slow motion.

He was a few steps behind you and GP and Rupert, taking a moment to sign merch and take pictures with fans who had been waiting for hours. He assumed the group of you had made your way into the paddock, already heading towards the Red Bull motorhome.

He hadn’t expected for the hair on the back of his neck to stand up, to feel his whole body react before his brain had. His head whipped around at the exact moment he saw the crazed fan reaching towards you. His body was moving as he watched the scene unfold, as they reached for the collar of your shirt and pulled, as their lips moved to mutter something about Red Bull and whatever nonsense they thought justified their attack.

And before anyone could even react, Max was already shoving himself between you and the fan and ripping their hand away from you. He could feel his heart pounding, his body shaking, the telltale pain in his gums of his canines begging to push through. He could feel himself lose control as the anger and fear of seeing you hurt took over him.

“Back. The. Fuck. Off.”

The fan’s eyes widened, something quite like surprise and terror written across their face as they staggered back. Max had half the mind to wonder if his eyes were glowing yellow, if his face was starting to transform, if the crazed fan was starting to see the monster Max truly was.

“Max.”

An honest to god growl escaped his lips until he felt warm hands wrapping around his biceps, until he felt someone pulling his body away from the fan and away from the crowd.

“We need to get him out of here.”

It felt like he had blacked out. One moment he was staring at the crazy fan, contemplating letting his wolf take over, to give into the anger and rage coursing through him. And the next he was in his driver room, his name being called on repeat and warm hands cupping his face as he slowly blinked back into reality.

“There he is,” you smiled, your voice a soft whisper as you kneeled in front of him.

“I–” Max started but he couldn’t get his words out. He couldn’t say what he wanted to say, not with his heart still pounding, not with the wolf inside him howling and whining and begging to check that you weren’t hurt.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you repeated like you could see inside his head, like you could hear the panic in his wolf’s howl. “Max, look at me. I promise I’m okay. You stopped anything from happening.”

He tried to take a deep breath but it was staggered and wheezy.

“I’m okay,” you continued to repeat, dropping one hand from his face to take his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers together.

Max’s eyes flashed yellow once more before he clenched them shut, urging himself to calm down, to relax, to control his wolf again. And after weeks of being on top of his lycanthropy, it felt a bit pathetic that he sat there for god-knows how long, not trusting himself to lift his head and look at you until he felt human again.

“M’sorry,” he managed to rasp out.

“Don’t apologise,” you murmured, quick to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Please never apologise for being you.”

Max let out a bitter laugh. “That wasn’t me—”

“Max,” you started but he shook his head.

“Did anyone see?”

You took a few moments before responding. “No. Other than the fan but I don’t think they really knew what was happening. I don’t think any of the camera angles caught it either but GP is making sure the media team are ahead of that.”

“Good,” he managed to mutter, swallowing harshly. “We don’t need anyone else seeing what a monster I am.”

“Max,” and the way you said his name sounded absolutely broken. “You’re not a monster.”

His lips twitched upwards, almost self-deprecatingly. “You don’t have to lie—”

“I’m not lying,” you said, a little more insistent this time as you lifted his head up to meet your gaze. “You’re not a monster, Max.”

His chest tightened. “You’re just saying that because I saved you.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m saying that because it’s what I truly believe. You are the furthest thing from a monster I have ever met.”

Max could feel his voice waver as he spoke. “Not anymore. What I am now is—”

“Beautiful,” you whispered, smiling softly as your thumb swiped over the apple of his cheek. “Just as you’ve always been. Just as I’ve always thought you were.”

Max couldn’t quite find the words to respond.

“You saved me. And despite having every right to blame me for what you are now, what you’re having to suffer through every full moon, you don’t,” you continued. “Where most people would give up, you fought back. You took your life back. You’ve made it work, Max. Do you realise how fucking brilliant you are? You had to learn your whole body again and you’re still winning races like nothing changed.”

Max let out a shaky breath. “I’d do it again.”

“What?”

“Even knowing what happened, knowing what was going to happen to me,” Max spoke, keeping his eyes on you, keeping his ears focused on your heartbeat. “I would push you out the way. I would jump in front of that wolf all over again.”

Max wasn’t sure how you would respond but he hadn’t expected you to grab his face in your hands and kiss him. The tight feeling in his chest melted away the second he felt your lips on his, the second he was able to get his hands on you and pull you closer. He would’ve been embarrassed at the pleased rumble in his chest if it weren’t for the fact he was too happy to care.

“I’ll make you see how beautiful that ‘monster’ in you really is,” you whispered against his lips, your nose lightly nudging against his. “No matter how long it takes.”

Max was sure that he still had a long way to go and a lot more to learn before he could ever say he felt fully normal again. But the idea of facing the road ahead with you by his side felt easier than tackling it alone.

He may still be Mad Max to everyone else but he was just Max to you.

And if he was being honest, the opinion of his anchor was the only one he really cared about.

#cece's halloween fright nights #max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

330 notes · View notes

raekensluver · 2 months ago

Text

WICKED OBSESSION - EX!LUIGI MANGIONE x FEM!READER- PART TWO

PART ONE, PART TWO

DESCRIPTION: it seems you finally managed to get luigi out of your life, so you decide to move on and date someone new. but when you're in a club and you run into luigi...how is he going to react to your new relationship?

CONTAINS: dark themes!!!!!!!!!!, toxic!luigi, clubbing, drugging, cheating, daterape, manipulation, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), mentions of babytrapping (it doesn't happen).

w.c: 4.2k

a/n: lowkey tweaking out because i know my baby lu would never do this but this is a work of fiction so it's okay....right?

the neon lights of the club throbbed in time with the bass, casting an eerie glow across the dance floor. the air had the scent of sweat and perfume, the sound of laughter and music an intoxicating blend that made the world feel alive. you leaned against the bar, sipping your drink, feeling the vibrations of the music in your chest. your new boyfriend, matt, swayed beside you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back.

months had passed since you last saw luigi. the memory of that night was a distant echo, a faint taste of something sour on the back of your tongue. you had blocked his number, deleted his messages, and even moved apartments to escape the shadow he had cast over your life. every time you thought you had left the toxic relationship behind, the fear of his reappearance had clung to you like a sticky web. but with matt, you felt free. his gentle touch was a balm to your bruised soul.

your parents adored matt. he had a way of making everyone feel seen and heard, a stark contrast to luigi's demanding presence. when he picked you up for dinner, he'd bring flowers for your mom, ask about your dad's day, and listen to their stories with genuine interest. he was the kind of son they had always hoped for. when they saw the two of you together, their faces lit up with the warmth of a thousand suns. they had never seen you so happy, so at peace.

but the night at the club, the night you saw luigi, the shadows of your past began to stretch their long fingers into the present. his eyes found you through the crowd, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. his gaze was intense, filled with a mix of anger and desperation. you felt a chill run down your spine, a shiver of fear that you thought you had outgrown. matt, noticing your sudden tension, wrapped his arm around you protectively, whispering, "who's that?"

you tried to play it cool, taking a sip of your drink and hoping luigi would just pass by, but his steps were determined. as he approached, his eyes never leaving yours, you felt the old weight of his presence settle back on your shoulders. "luigi," you murmured to matt, your voice shakier than you'd liked. "it's okay, everything's fine." you told him, but everything wasn't fine. luigi had always had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room, and even now, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club, it was just the two of you.

"hey, it's been a minute," luigi said, his voice smooth as velvet, his smile forced and cold. matt offered a hand, a polite gesture that you appreciated, and luigi took it in a firm, almost painful grip. "luigi mangione," he said, introducing himself. "i know who you are," matt replied, his grip equally firm. "i've heard a lot about you." there was a beat, a moment where the tension grew thick enough to slice with a knife. luigi's eyes flicked to you, a question in them. "this is matt," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "my boyfriend."

his smile didn't waver, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees. "oh," luigi said, his eyes lingering on matt. "you're the one who's been keeping her out of trouble, huh?" he leaned in, his voice low and mocking. "good for you. she used to be such a handful." matt's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait. "i think she's pretty perfect the way she is," he said, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to fill the space around you.

luigi's gaze snapped back to you, his eyes dark. "right," he said, his tone clipped. "well, i didn't come over here to cause any trouble. just wanted to say hi." his hand reached out, and for a split second, you thought he might touch you. but matt's grip on your waist tightened, a silent warning, and luigi's hand fell away. "another time, then," he said, his voice dripping with a promise that sent a fresh wave of cold fear through you.

he turned and began to walk away, his movements fluid and graceful despite the crush of people on the dance floor. your eyes followed him as he disappeared into the crowd, a snake slithering back into the shadows from which he came. matt's arm tightened around you, and you felt his breath in your ear. "are you okay?" he asked. you nodded, but the nod felt too heavy, forced. "yeah," you said, "i'm fine." but you weren't fine. the sight of luigi had cracked open a door you thought was sealed shut, and the memories flooded in, unbidden and unwelcome.

an hour passed, or maybe it was two, the minutes stretching and warping to the beat of the music. matt was pulled away by friends and you remained by the bar, the empty glass in your hand a silent sentinel to the fear that had crept back in. you tried to ignore the way the lights played over the shifting crowd, turning every shadow into a potential threat. you tried to focus on the music, the laughter, the warmth of matt's hand when it found yours again, but luigi's presence lingered like a bad taste.

suddenly, he was there again. luigi slid onto the stool next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. the bartender set down a drink in front of you, and you stared at it, a slithering coil of dread tightening in your stomach. "i just wanted to talk," he said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to cut through the din of the club. "i've missed you."

you took a deep breath, the taste of your drink bitter on your tongue. "it's over, luigi," you said, your voice firm. "i'm done." the words felt like a declaration of war, and for a moment, you braced yourself for the storm of his anger. but he just nodded, his smile never wavering.

his eyes searched yours, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "i know," he said, his voice a whisper over the music. "i just wanted to make sure you knew that i still care." you felt the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his words, and for a moment, doubt flickered. but then you remembered the pain, the tears, the endless cycle of his apologies and your forgiveness. "i don't need that kind of caring anymore," you replied, sliding off the stool. "i've got matt. he treats me right."

his expression didn't change, but the air around him grew colder. "you always did know how to pick 'em," he said, gesturing to the drink with a tilt of his head. "have one last toast with me?" the glass was filled with an amber liquid that glinted under the neon lights, and you knew it was your favorite whiskey. luigi had always had a way of knowing exactly what to say, what to do, to get under your skin.

you stared at the drink, the ice cubes clinking together with a sound like shattered promises. if you took a sip, if you engaged with him, you were afraid it might be like opening pandora's box. but maybe, just maybe, if you humored him this one time, he would leave you alone forever. you picked up the glass, the condensation wetting your fingers, and raised it to your lips.

the whiskey burned down your throat, a familiar warmth that brought with it a rush of bittersweet memories. you set the glass down firmly, the clink of it hitting the bar a declaration. "that's enough," you said, your voice clear and unwavering. "i have to go find matt." luigi's smile remained, but there was something in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. "sure," he said, "enjoy the night."

you pushed through the sea of bodies, the music a muffled roar in your ears. the lights spun and swirled, making it hard to focus. matt's tall frame should have been easy to spot, but the more you looked, the more you realized he wasn't anywhere near. a sinking feeling began to form in your stomach, a knot that grew tighter with every passing second. you scanned the dance floor, the couches, the bathroom line, but there was no sign of him.

you pulled out your phone, the glow of the screen a beacon in the dark. no messages, no calls. you tried to call him, but the club's reception was spotty at best, and all you got was a series of rings followed by silence. where was he? had luigi said something to him? the whiskey swirled in your stomach, mixing with the fear that had taken hold. you sent a quick text, trying to keep the panic out of your words. "where are you?"

the seconds ticked by, feeling like hours. no response. the music grew louder, the lights more oppressive. the crowd seemed to close in around you, and you felt like you couldn't breathe. your heart hammered in your chest, a drumbeat that echoed the bass of the music. you pushed through the throngs of dancers, searching every face, but matt's was nowhere to be found.

the club was a labyrinth of neon lights and pounding rhythms, each step taking you further from safety and closer to the panic that threatened to consume you. the floor was sticky under your shoes, the air thick with the scent of desperation. your eyes searched frantically, darting from person to person, but all you saw were strangers, their faces a blur of indifference to your distress.

suddenly, a hand grabbed your arm, spinning you around. you gasped, ready to lash out, but it was luigi. his eyes searched yours, a flicker of genuine concern breaking through the mask of his usual arrogance. "you okay?" he asked, his voice cutting through the cacophony. you nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. "matt's missing," you managed to shout over the music. "i can't find him."

luigi sneered for a second before it was replaced with something softer. "let's go look together," he offered, and for a second, you almost believed he had changed. almost. but you were desperate, and he was right there. together, you wove through the dancers, his hand in yours. his grip was firm, grounding you in a way that was eerily familiar. "matt's a good guy," luigi said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "you deserve someone like him." the words stung, but you didn't have the energy to argue.

you began to feel loopy, the whiskey hitting you harder than it should have. the lights grew too bright, the sounds too loud. you stumbled, and luigi was there, his arm around your waist, supporting you. "are you okay?" he shouted, his face close to yours. you nodded, trying to shake off the fog that clouded your thoughts. "just need to find matt," you murmured, leaning into him.

his grip on you tightened, his thumb stroking the side of your hip in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. you realized with a start that the hand that had held yours was now resting on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd with a possessiveness that was all too familiar. the whiskey's warmth had turned to ice, and you felt yourself sinking into the cold embrace of the club's floor. "matt," you tried to call out, but your voice was a whisper lost in the roar.

the lights above swirled into a nauseating kaleidoscope, each color stabbing into your retinas like a knife. the music grew distorted, the laughter around you turning into a cacophony of taunts. you felt luigi's arm around you, his grip tightening as you stumbled again. "let's go someplace quieter," he yelled in your ear, his breath hot and sour. the hand that had been on your back slid up to your shoulder, his fingers digging in, and you realized with horror that you couldn't move away. your limbs felt like lead, and the panic grew, a scream trapped in your chest.

the edges of the club blurred as he half-dragged you through a side door and into a hallway that was a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the main room. the walls were cold and unforgiving, the floor sticky under your feet. the lights flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced around you like ghosts from your past. your thoughts swirled like the neon lights, a toxic mix of fear and confusion. "matt," you tried to call out, but your voice was lost in the thump of the bass that seemed to follow you even here.

"shh," luigi murmured, his breath warm against your cheek. his arms were around you, supporting you, but it felt more like a cage. "he's probably just stepped outside for some air." his voice was soothing, the way it used to be when you were together, when you were lost in his lies. "let's sit down, okay?" before you could protest, he had guided you to a bench against the wall, his grip firm and unyielding.

you leaned against him, your vision swimming. the whiskey had hit you harder than you had anticipated, and the room spun in a dizzying array of lights and sounds. you tried to focus on his face, but it kept shifting, changing into the monster you had left behind. "matt," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i need to find matt."

his arms tightened around you. "he'll find you," he assured you, his voice a seductive purr that sent a shiver down your spine. "right now, you just need to relax." his hand slid down to your waist, his fingers curling possessively. you tried to push him away, but your body didn't respond, heavy and sluggish. "no," you slurred, the word barely audible. "not again."

the room tilted and you felt yourself slipping, the floor rising up to meet you. luigi's arms tightened, his grip like iron bars keeping you upright. "don't worry, i've got you," he whispered, his breath hot on your neck. "just let me take care of you." the words echoed in your mind, a siren's call from a nightmare you thought you had left behind.

you felt his hand move again, this time sliding up to the base of your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. your heart hammered in your chest, a desperate rhythm that seemed to match the throb of the bass still pounding in your ears. you knew what was happening, knew the game he was playing, but you couldn't find the strength to fight it. "no," you murmured, the word barely escaping your lips. "please."

his eyes searched yours, the coldness in them sending a chill down your spine. "you always did like to play hard to get," he said, his voice a mockery of sweetness. your mouth felt dry, the whiskey a burning memory on your tongue. you tried to swallow, but your throat was a desert, parched and desolate. the room spun faster, the lights above becoming a blur of color that made your head ache.

his hand moved up to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him. "don't you remember how good we were together?" he asked, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "i can give you everything you want. everything you need." his breath was hot, the scent of alcohol and something darker, something that made your stomach churn. "matt can't give you what i can."

you tried to pull away, to stand, to scream, but your body was uncooperative. your legs felt like jelly, your arms heavy weights attached to your shoulders. "no," you whispered, the word barely escaping your numb lips. "i don't want that anymore." the room was spinning faster, the lights above swirling into a sickening pattern that made you want to retch.

luigi's grip remained unyielding, his thumb stroking your cheek with a gentle pressure that was anything but comforting. "you don't know what you want," he murmured, his eyes searching yours with a hunger that made your skin crawl. "but i do. i want you." his voice was a siren's call, a promise of comfort in the storm that raged within you. but it was a lie, and you knew it.

his other hand found yours, guiding it with a surprising force to the bulge in his pants. your stomach lurched, the whiskey churning in your stomach like a tempest. "feel that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundation of the club. "that's how much i want you." the fabric of his trousers was rough under your trembling fingers, the heat from his body searing through the material. "luigi, no," you managed to gasp, your voice barely above a whisper.

his hand didn't move, his grip unyielding as he pressed your palm against his erection. "just one more time," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "i'll make it worth your while." the memory of his touch, his kisses, his promises flooded your mind like a tsunami, threatening to drown you in a sea of despair. his thumb traced lazy circles on the inside of your wrist, sending a shiver of revulsion through you.

you felt his cock twitch under your touch, and you realized with a start that his hand had moved away, leaving yours to hover there, unsure of what to do. your mind screamed at you to push him away, to run, but your body remained frozen, trapped in a prison of fear and doubt. his eyes bore into yours, searching for a flicker of the desire that had once burned so brightly for him. but all you felt was the cold, hard reality of his manipulation.

his hand moved to the back of your head, gently but firmly guiding you closer to his crotch. you could feel the heat of him, smell the musk of his desire. your stomach churned with the whiskey and the horror of what was about to happen. "please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. but he didn't listen. he never did.

his zipper rasped open, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. your eyes watered with the effort of not crying, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you break. his cock sprang free, hard and demanding, and you knew what he wanted. his hand pushed your head down, the pressure unmistakable. you closed your eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and did as he bid.

his cock filled your mouth, the taste of him bitter and wrong. you felt his hands on your hair, guiding you, his breath coming in short, excited gasps. your cheeks hollowed as you moved up and down, his grip tightening with each stroke. the whiskey churned in your stomach, but you couldn't throw up. not now. not here. you had to get through this.

you kept your eyes on him, his face a mask of lust and power. his eyes were locked on yours, the dark pools of his pupils swallowing any hope of escape. the lights above threw shadows across his face, making him look like a demon from hell itself. his mouth moved, whispering words of encouragement, of ownership, but you couldn't hear them. the only sound was the sickening sounds of your swallowing and gagging and and the thud of your own heart, beating a desperate rhythm of survival.

then, without warning, luigi pulled himself out of your mouth, his grip on your hair painfully tight. he pushed you back down onto the bench, his eyes never leaving yours. his pants fell to his ankles with a soft thump, and he positioned himself between your legs. "you always did know how to take care of me," he murmured, his voice a knife slicing through the silence. your heart hammered in your chest, a wild, terrified animal trapped in a cage.

his hand reached up under your skirt, the fabric rough against your skin. you tried to close your legs, to fight him off, but your body was a traitor, too weak from the drugged whiskey and the fear. his fingers found your panties, ripping them aside with a savage jerk. the sound of the tearing fabric was like a gunshot in the quiet hallway. you felt a moment of pure, unbridled rage, but it was quickly swallowed by the cold, numbing acceptance that had become so familiar during your time with him.

his cock pushed into you, and you bit your lip to keep from crying out. the pain was a white-hot knife, slicing through the fog in your mind. he was rough, his thrusts hard and fast, like he was trying to claim you all over again. your hands gripped the edge of the bench, your nails digging into the wood. you didn't look at him, focusing instead on the flickering lights above, trying to find a pattern in the chaos to hold onto.

but despite your efforts to remain detached, a moan slipped out, low and desperate. it was like a dam breaking, and suddenly you couldn't hold back the sounds of your body's betrayal. the pleasure built, unwanted, the whiskey making your senses too intense, too alive to ignore. your eyes squeezed shut, and your mouth opened in a silent scream as luigi fucked you, his hips slamming into yours with a brutal rhythm.

his hand left your neck and traveled down your front, his fingers tracing a fiery path down your spine. you shuddered at the contact, a mix of revulsion and unwanted arousal that made your skin crawl. his grip was firm, his fingers digging into your skin, reminding you of the power he had over you, even now. "see?" he murmured, his voice thick with victory. "you still want me."

his thrusts grew deeper, more deliberate, his eyes on yours. "you know i could get you pregnant," he whispered, his breath hot on your face. "wouldn't that be great? you, tied to me for the rest of your life, just like i always wanted." the words were a knife in your soul, twisting and turning until you weren't sure if the moans coming from your throat were from pleasure or pain. "i could do it right now," he continued, his voice a taunt. "make sure you never forget who you really belong to."

the sobs began then, deep and raw, the sound of your own breaking. luigi's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before the smugness returned. he liked your tears, liked that he could still make you cry. his grip on your hip tightened, his thumb digging into your flesh as he pumped into you harder. "that's it," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "just let go."

you didn't want to let go. you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble, but the whiskey and the fear and the memories were too much. the moans grew louder, mingling with your sobs, and you hated yourself for it. your body was responding to his touch, betraying you with every stroke, every thrust. his other hand found your clit, and you bit down on your lip, trying to keep the noises inside.

his eyes gleamed with triumph, his smile cold and cruel. "that's it," he murmured again, his voice a sibilant whisper in the dark. "just like old times." his thumb circled your clit, pressing down with a merciless precision that made your eyes roll back in your head. your hips bucked against his hand, a silent plea for release that was more about ending this nightmare than giving in to his touch.

the orgasm ripped through you, tearing apart what was left of your defenses. your body arched, your nails scraping the bench as you came around his cock, the sound of your cries lost in the music that thumped through the walls. luigi's smile grew wider, his hips moving faster. "see, baby?" he said, his voice a mockery of tenderness. "we're perfect together."

then, without warning, he pulled out, his cock slick with your arousal. you felt the warmth of his cum spurt onto your stomach, painting you with his claim. the act was a final declaration of his dominance, a physical manifesto of his ownership. your eyes snapped open, meeting his in a silent battle of wills. you hated him, hated the way your body responded to him even now, hated the way his cum marred your skin.

his smile never wavered as he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants. "see you around," he said, his voice casual as if you hadn't just been violated in the shadows of a club. and with that, he turned and left you there, trembling and alone. the sound of his footsteps echoed down the hallway, fading into the throb of the music until all that remained was the sticky emptiness of his absence.

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione smut #uhc shooter #luigi mangione x reader #uhc assassin #real person fiction #rpf #luigi mangione fanfic #deny defend depose #luigi mangione blurb #dark!luigi mangione #dark content

207 notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 10 months ago

Text

Not 'Not So Imaginary' getting a sequel fic(let) for @deadonmayn week...

Have a little start, even though I've been trying not to share my domayn week work, because dramatic theater kid Jason is dramatic.

“I never thought I’d see you again!” Jason lamented, dramatically, as he flung himself at Danny.

Danny caught Jason dutifully, having expected such dramatics (though they had to be braced a little by Diana not to fall over from Jason’s exuberance). Hiding a smile against Jason’s hair, they patted Jason lightly on the back. “There there.”

“Don’t there there me!” Jason said and pulled back enough for Danny to get the full force of his pout. Danny was very sure that Jason thought that since even Bruce mostly folded to that pout, Danny had no chance, but Danny had been living with Diana and her pout was truly lethal. Still, Jason continued valiantly with his rant. “It’s been over three weeks! Do you know how long three weeks is! That’s twenty-one days! It’s been twenty-three, that is so long—”

Jason’s words cut off with a muffled little ‘murf’ as Danny leaned in and pressed their lips together. It was still just as effective as it had been twenty-three days ago as it stunned Jason long enough for Danny to flip the cover of their SGD up so that they could use it. While Danny spoke much more these days than before, it was still a challenge to find the right words at the right time. Their device was easier and they clung to it gratefully.

“We talked everyday,” Danny said. The mechanical voice had been tweaked some over the last few weeks to something Danny was happier with. They didn’t think it was too different, but it gave Jason almost as much pause as the kiss had.

“What?” Jason shook his head, dark curls flying. “No we didn’t, we texted every day, that’s not the same!”

Danny glanced down at their SGD and back up again with a pointedly brow raised.

“I’m not being abelist! That’s still us talking! I mean texting isn’t us talking in person, I mean— stop making me feel like a bad host. Alfie, tell Danny I’m not a bad host!”

“Well, Master Jason, you have left our guests standing on the porch for several minutes now,” the balding, mustachioed man standing primly in the doorway said.

Danny guessed he had to be ‘Alfie’.

Jason threw his head back with a dramatic ‘ugh’ stomped inside, and then held the door open with a little bow. “Madam Diana. Ma— Mis— What’s the proper title for a they, Alfred?”

Alfred blinked, once. “I suppose that depends on your friends preference. Would you prefer Master, Miss, or Mx?”

Danny’s nose scrunched up as they thought.

#dp x dc #dead on main #not so imaginary

397 notes · View notes

leviathanleva · 3 months ago

Text

Sugar Bomb

Pairing: Findlay 'Hazard' Docherty x Fem!Reader

Description: Hazard takes it upon himself to secure dinner for everyone one evening. Out of the kindness of your heart, you volunteer to help out only to find out he's gotten you a treat along the way.

[2.1 k words]

Chapter 6

It was a night like any other, calm, and relaxing, everyone was sprawled around the living room, doing their own thing while waiting for Hazzard to come home with take-out. Your stomach growls in anticipation, but you ignore it with ease and return to the mini-game on your pad, poking away at it until dinner arrives. Legs crossed, one foot dangling in the air, bobbing up and down casually; you’re sprawled on the couch like it’s nobody’s business, this was the life.

Phonk is playing from the speakers, turned low so Susie could focus on some last minute document forging. The smell of charred metal is in the air while Touch-Up twiddles with a small addition to Hazard’s gun. There’s a storm raging outside, freezing cold rain which makes you worry for the well-being of your favorite Scotsman. Deaf thunder comes through the music every now and again, makes you shift further into the sofa.

In truth, you could have whipped up something for the phreaks, but everyone had agreed, much to your displeasure, that you slave over them too much and need a break. Hence why Findlay was currently out scouting for your next meal while you sat back and molded into the cushions with a half-empty can of soda on the coffee table.

The gate screeches open and you instantly perk up.

BoomSlang is about to stand from her armchair and leave to help with the groceries when you motion for her to stay put.

“I’ll help him, you just chill.”

“Thanks, babe.” She smiles at you sweetly and returns to tweaking one of her countless weapons as you make your way to the hallway.

It’s a cold day and you tug your cardigan tighter around yourself to fend off the chill trying to nip at your skin. Your slippers drag across the floor as you make your way to the front door. The light at the entrance flicks on and you can’t help the upward tug on your lips as you make your way over.

“Fin?”

“Aye, daftie.” You hear him before you see him, along with the rustling of plastic bags and paper boxes brimming with grub. “The hunt went well.”

“I’ve no doubt.” You giggle and round the corner, then stop to take him in in all his glory.

He’s wiping the soles of his cybernetic boots on the mat, caking it with mud, and shaking droplets of rain off his leather jacket before hanging it up. His hair is a wet mess and the front of his tee is soaked because he refuses to zip up that damn jacket no matter the weather outside.

He looks chilled to the bone, you make a mental note to turn up the heater once you make it to kitchen and have him sit to warm up before dinner.

“What’s that for?” You point to the pink cupcake secured in one of his hands, it seems to be taking all his self-restraint just to not accidentally smush it.

It’s a pretty little treat, chocolate base wrapped in a frilly red cupcake mold, topped with baby pink frosting and edible glitter. Maybe it was your prolonged hunger that was drawing you to it, but it was as much of an eye candy as it would be satisfactory at the bottom of your belly, you were sure.

Was it someone’s birthday again?

“Is for you, luv.” Findlay states proudly, grins down at you and offers you the pastry that looks minuscule pinched between his fingers. “Li’le birdies like pre’y pink treats,…right?”

You couldn’t smile any wider as you took it from him and offered countless words of gratitude. You were ready to tear up at the gesture, but you’ve cried enough in the past few months so you decide to keep your tears for another occasion.

“Yes, we do.”

You’re staring at the damn thing like it’s the most precious treasure in the world and it warms him to see you so pleased, aside from your expression feeding his gentlemanly pride.

“Glad you like it.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, chuckling at the childish glint in your eyes before picking up the take-out bags from the floor.

“We can share it.” You say sweetly and raise a finger to his mouth before he has a chance to protest. “I insist, you little twit.”

You usher him down the hall and scurry to turn on the kitchen heater on full blast. The room has been uninhabited since early morning when you made coffee, so it’s only fair it’s freezing cold and the windows have frosted over. You leave the cupcake on the kitchen counter and holler at the rest of the gang that dinner will be ready in ten before fetching a towel for Hazard’s hair from a cabinet in the corridor.

“Here, handsome.” You toss the cloth over his neck and give his large upper back a pat before returning to your precious edible treasure. “Dry off before you catch a cold.”

The bread knife goes through it like butter and you’re already watering at the mouth by the feeling, not even being able to imagine how heavenly it would taste.

You turn back once the cupcake is split and see the Scotsman still has the bags in his hands, not knowing where you want them put. You’d half expect him to just set them anywhere and tend to drying himself off, but he was standing in the middle of the kitchen like a lost pup.

“You want your half now?” You ask and rest one hand on the table next to the treat before licking the leftover frosting from the bread knife. You’d thought he’d jump at the opportunity and practically thrust the take-out in your hands before wolfing down his share, but no, he still just stood there.

He was up to something…

If you hadn’t blinked you could have almost caught the little lightbulb coming to life above his head. He nods then, determined to execute his makeshift plan you were blissfully unaware of.

“Ye.”

You motion for him to take his half, but he doesn’t budge, instead he smirks and raises his occupied hands slightly.

“Hands are full, bonnie.”

“So what?...You want me to feed it to you?” It was supposed to be a joke and you do giggle as you say it, but the unchangeable expression on his face makes the grin die on your lips. “You’re kidding…”

When he doesn’t respond or laugh off the mock offer, you scoff. Your hands come to rest on your hips and you shift your weight from one leg to the other.

“You’re a big baby, you know that?” Despite the scolding tone you’re already picking up the bigger half of the cupcake, intending to walk up to him and do as he’s asked, but when you turn around he’s already standing right behind you.

Eager much…

You want to wipe the frosting all over the smug smirk plastered on his mouth, then lick it off, yet your features shift to soft adoration and you reach up, standing on your toes. You cup his cheek gently and bring the treat to his lips. If he truly wanted to be babied, you were fine with providing, even if he thought he was a big shot for lying to you about being unable to eat his share by himself.

He has to remind himself that his hands are very much occupied and he can’t just slide the bag handles on his wrists and encase your waist in his hands.

Right, very busy hands, no way of doing anything with them at the moment…

Right…

He opens his mouth and takes the treat, scarfing it down with ease, leans in when you try to step away and go wash your hands. His tongue comes in contact with the tips of your fingers, and he licks the frosting off, being thorough in his mission. His eyes never leave yours as he does so, laps at you like a dog, seeming to find more satisfaction from your flesh than the edible glitter clinging to your digits. The sharp ends of his canines graze your nails, his lips press into your skin – warm, soft, tantalizing.

You swallow back a whimper, can’t move an inch, you’re rooted to the spot, squished between him and the table. Rain drops trickle from his hair down his forehead, his whiskey orbs are burning holes into your very soul.

The heat from his tongue gliding over your fingers has your entire body overwhelmed with goose flesh and you shudder before mumbling out weakly.

“Findlay…”

“Aye?”

You swallow a lump of excitement and anxiety caught in your throat, then speak softly, making sure your voice doesn’t travel outside of the kitchen.

“Why do you torture me so…?”

He chuckles at that and succumbs to the urge to lay one hand on your hip after sloppily slapping the bags of food on the dining table behind you. He squishes the supple flesh there, and makes you squeal in the process.

“Payback for yer perfume, hen.” He hums, a deep, husky rumble that reverberates in your core. He leans closer, finally letting your hand free only to lower his face to yours. You can feel the cool steel of his nose piercing gently grazing your cheek. “Mah sweet wee hen…”

His lips are so close to yours that you feel his huffs collide with your breaths, can smell the sweetness of the cupcake on his tattooed tongue. You could lean in right now, just an inch closer and your mouths would be sealed together, no telling what would happen next.

How wonderfully painful all this was…

“Is dinner ready yet? Susie said she’s sick of my whining.”

You lurch back at JackDaw’s voice. And just like that, the spell is broken, the room comes back into focus. The door to the kitchen has been open this whole time, someone could have walked in on you two. You wanted to bury yourself alive at the implication.

“Ah, almost lovies!” You call back hastily and slip between Findlay’s fingers, take the leftover bags from his other hand, and set everything on the counter to plate. “Tell the others two more minutes!”

But your torturer isn’t done yet. He comes behind you as you shakily prepare everyone’s meals, presses a hand against your tummy, pulls you back into him, and rests his chin briefly against your shoulder, the tip of his nose drawing against the skin of your neck.

“Fill mah plate good, aye, hen? I’m starvin’.”

You nearly collapse on the spot with how flustered you are, have to resort to gripping onto the edge of the counter to keep steady as Hazard slowly pulls away. You listen for him, hear a chair screech and glance back to see him sitting in his usual spot while toweling his hair casually.

He’d be the death of you. The fucking death of you. You were sure of it.

But what was stopping you from indulging?

The fact that you refused to be a part of a fling, that’s what. You didn’t want casual, you didn’t want just sex, you wanted him for as long as you drew breath, even if that sounded a bit overdramatic in your head. You wanted to be in it for life, just as he’d told you when you’d first met, if you’re in it with him, you’re in it for life. But whether that sentiment extended to his romantic life was a mystery to you.

And it wasn’t a question to just throw out there when nothing was going on between you two besides the occasional pushing of buttons. Or maybe something was going on and you were blind to it, it was never certain when Hazard was involved.

You didn’t know why he hadn’t just asked you out, why he constantly teased you and treated you so lovingly yet refused to take the next step and kiss you. What was stopping him? Was he worried your friends would disapprove? You doubted anyone would object. But then what was the issue…

You watch him as you portion the food – lazy, unbothered, confident, the man you love so deeply yet can’t find the strength to risk it all and just confess.

You were a wuss, a fucking coward. You wish things were different.

He notices you staring at him over your shoulders, grins that famous grin of his, and gives you a wink as he leans back in his chair. You’re ready to die when he pats his thick thigh, silently offering you a new seat on the table for the night. You avert your gaze and focus on the food in your hands.

For sure he’d be the death of you.

<<< Chapter 5

Chapter 7 >>>

Masterlist

#x reader #findlay docherty #hazard x reader #overwatch hazard #hazard #hazard x you #overwatch x you #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 #overwatch

63 notes · View notes

stringlessau · 5 months ago

Text

IT'S STRINGLESS' 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY (+ early concept art compilation)

Posting this dumbass little video to start off the day since we have a lot of little gifts for our awesome community today.

One of those things is something i've been wanting to do for a very long while: posting a lot of the original concept art for stringless (since ive always enjoyed seeing other people's early concepts) some of these i have posted massively before, some are completely unseen, so it'll be fun

This one is the page that started it all, his design is at the same time largely unchanged and also completely different

All i have to say is that it originally said (regarding spamton and swatch) "they bicker like an old married couple" but then i thought about it and i changed it so theyre literally just married

Didnt mean to make swatchton, made it anyway lmfao

Right after that, i got working on neo designs, I wanted to make him really scary looking, the original concept was to make him look skeletal and generally for him to look insane and like he had been reanimated from the dead, but a lot of people had told me over time that they didn't really like the design, I was very defensive over it but I ended up taking criticism and i actually really like the new neo, it balances the uncanniness of the original design with the sleekness of my new art

Payton was a natural next step, without someone to sell the thorn ring there'd be no neo, so although his design visually stayed almost the same, he went through a lot of color revisions (thanks mostly to @maskedalterego, who helped me to nail his final color palette), he suggested the gloves, and helped me to balance the saturation of the design since really I've never had a good eye for color.

His final design, color wise, was just me experimenting using the colors of my sona at the time on him, which I was hesitant to do but was so happy with the palette that I kept it.

It's interesting that he was originally intended to be the pink addison (since he sells one of the snowgrave required rings), and the reason he ended up being the blue addison was corey beepington (and the eviction notice short which I have taken one too many concepts from), this still influenced me to make his outfit pink initially, which still is a huge part of his character design

That exact same night, I created concept art for Raster (weirdly, I was sure I created them before Payton, but it might be because I was generally uninterested in Payton earlier on), their design is also largely unchanged, I just got better with shapes and color, I also ended up changing their cheek markings after seeing some swatchton fanchild art by ne0nbandit

A first until now, the first concepts for payton neo were made on paper

I took very long on this design, and I only updated it every few weeks to make tweaks because I felt the concept was too good but my execution didnt make it justice

I'm very proud of how the design looks now, as of the latest neo redesigns, I feel I could finally make this idea justice

Swatch's design went through some last minute changes, I wanted to use this color palette for swatch to contrast with spamton, but decided against it, then i changed their hair to be longer, to make their Stringless design distinct from their regular Deltarune design

Historically, these two are pretty important, the first pieces of art I ever made featuring Rakhin's old design, when he wasn't part of stringless and I was just befriending rope (he made me Payton fanart first, fell in love with his style), the contrast is beautiful

Now to finish this post, here's some unseen Snowgrave route art I made over the time Stringless has been in development, they're all pretty quick sketches, but i love them nonetheless

Thanks everyone for the insane reception this AU has gotten, I haven't been feeling very good this whole year for a huge amount of reasons I can't get into, but Stringless and its community always helps me to remember why I do the things I do

Thanks for everyone's comments and everyone's kindness, thanks especially to @theropeaaa , for being the literal other half of this AU, without whom I couldn't have ever done the Stringless pages, @maskedalterego for helping me and listening to my ramblings since the start, @scamp-boxx for being this AU's biggest hype man (the first ever comment on the first spamton concept art was by them, and they helped me nail so much of the snowgrave route), @boykisserwoah and @weirdohno , for also being here from the start and making an absolutely insane amount of fanart oh my god, @gutamajunk , for motivating me to create Raster, and writing several story outlines on the first days of stringless that were the foundation for the pages, and diaryous milch and rory, our friends that have helped with character designs, story ideas, voice acting and have generally been instrumental to what stringless is today

THANKS EVERYONE <3

-Nick

#deltarune #deltarune au #stringless au #deltarune comic #spamton g spamton #swatch deltarune #swatchton #concept art

115 notes · View notes

forestdeath1 · 1 year ago

Text

Poet

@prongsfoot-microfic

January 23, 1977

James lies with his eyes closed on the dusty bed in the Shrieking Shack, his nose buried in Sirius's waist. His left hand casually rests on his friend's thigh. Sirius, leaning against the headboard, is flipping through the pages of some yellowed book, faintly illuminated by the dying light of sunset seeping through the cracks of the old windows.

"What's that you're reading?" James mumbles sleepily into his friend's shirt.

"Some muggle poetry. Lily gave it to me," Sirius responds.

"Why does Lily give you books?" James lifts his head slightly.

"Because, unlike you, I'm not a toerag. I can actually talk to her without making a fool of myself, you know?"

"Oh, shut it," James exhales, lightly hitting Sirius's book with his hand before rolling onto his back. "She likes me."

"Of course, she does," Sirius agrees, without looking up from his book. "Everyone does."

"Right," James pretends not to hear the irony in Sirius's voice. Or maybe he genuinely doesn't.

"Muggles can write beautifully, did you know?" Sirius asks a few minutes later.

"Nah," James answers lazily, yawning and stretching. Today he had to get up even earlier than usual – Stone had set a penalty training for their team for "improper conduct on the field."

"Listen to this," Sirius starts reading, sliding his left hand into James's hair.

Sirius twirls a lock of James's hair around his finger while his voice fills the room with the dramas of human lives, clothed in rhymed lines. James looks at the log ceiling, studying the patterns of darkened grooves and scratches, listening.

Sirius has a beautiful voice. He even makes poetry sound interesting. Poetry? Since when did James care about poetry? But with Sirius, even poetry seems fascinating.

Well, it's not like he's genuinely into poetry, but he likes how Sirius reads them – like he's the hero of these stories, not just a bystander. If any of them has a refined soul, it's definitely Sirius, though he'd never admit it.

This boy has a knack for finding the hidden poetry in the prose of life – something James has always lacked. Sirius – a lyrical child of the night. Daunting, dark, and dangerous, but only to those who haven't yet learned to understand it, who haven't seen that he is a reflection of the most dazzling white light.

"Do you like it?" Sirius asks after a while.

"Yeah," James whispers, turning back towards Sirius and pressing his face against his side, slipping his hand under the shirt to rest it on Sirius's chest. "Write me a poem," James looks up, smiling slightly.

Sirius laughs softly and clears his throat dramatically.

"Oh, James the Magnificent, greatest of the great, brightest of the bright..." he begins theatrically, extending his hand in a caricature of a gesture.

"And who's making a fool of themselves now?" James sighs, suppressing a chuckle, and lowers his head back to Sirius's waist. Sirius flicks him on the head in response.

They lie like that for a while. James hears the rustle of turning pages and the howling of the winter wind. He feels the warmth of Sirius's body under his palm. They're always warm, both of them. Moony often jokes that they can use them instead of warming charms for their dorm.

"Actually, I found a poem here," Sirius suddenly says, "just needs a little tweaking..."

"Tell me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, then flips through the pages and stops at the right one. James raises his gaze to him, looking up – Sirius has always dubbed this particular expression as 'the deer look'.

Sirius thoughtfully shifts his gaze from the book to James, smiles with one corner of his mouth, ruffles James's hair, and, returning his grey eyes to the book, quietly says:

"He is my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I think this love will last forever: am I not wrong?"

"What did you change?"

"Just the last line. It's originally about loss. 'I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.' But I like my version better. You?"

"Me too," James lifts himself on his elbows, presses against Sirius's ear, and whispers, "I think this love will last forever," then kisses him, moving lower down his neck and deeper, sliding his hand under the shirt. "You are not wrong."

___

October 31, 1981

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden

#sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #james and sirius #prongsfoot microfic #the marauders #prongs #padfoot

161 notes · View notes

beez3eee · 1 month ago

Text

Portal-ing Into the Stone Age

A Portal x Dr. Stone Fanfic

Title in progress, because I'm really bad at naming things.

As I've mentioned In one other fanfic here, my target audience is me. I just so happen to decide to share my self indulgent ramblings with the greater world. As such I have decided to make a Portal and Dr. Stone cross over because neither hyperfixation reduses to fade and I crave more content.

Also, it's 2nd person reader insert because why the hell not?

Just like VALVe, I will be retconning stuff in Portal just to match the Dr. Stone timeline better. You don't need to know portal lore, but it'd probably help. I can't think of anything else to put here, okay byeeeeee 👋

(if you see a typo, no you didn't.)

Prologue

-----------

You’ve had quite the rough last few days.

As if waking up from, what is essentially, suspended animation wasn’t bad enough, you got flung around, woke up your toxic robot situationship, broke up with her again, broke up with your other toxic robot situationship— british edition—, got back together with the first one but only after being tossed into the depths of a salt mine, and now you’re here trying to kill your second situationship. Is this a sign to stay out of the dating scene from now on? Well, you technically weren’t really dating anyone— or anything— to begin with, but the point still stands,

Your ears had yet to stop ringing from the explosion; you think you might be bleeding, if the moisture running down the side of your head meant anything. Muscles have been aching from traversing hundreds of miles underground, fighting to get to the surface. Aperture really did drill super far down. Being flung backwards via a pile of bombs probably, definitely, didn’t help the throbbing pain encompassing your entire body whatsoever. On the bright side, you may have busted an eardrum and gotten a concussion, but at least you don’t have to hear the grating sound of Wheatley’s gloating. Something about still being alive…?

‘You and me both, man.’ The words echo through your mind, you don’t know how you haven’t died yet either. At this point, you think being in this god forsaken facility seems to have just given you immortality or something of the like. The white from your vision slowly subsides as you push yourself up. You blink a bit aggressively, desperately trying to regain the ability to see before anything else happens. There’s still yelling behind you, what is it with sentient AI and being unequivocally fucking annoying?

With your last bit of strength, you snatch the dual portal device from in front of you and will yourself to turn around. As expected, the hunk of ugly mechanicals suspended from the ceiling had yet to stop tweaking out whilst the facility crumbled, as it had been for at least the past day, if not more. It’s a bit hard to tell time when you’re deep underground in a definitely-not-legal science facility that has an aversion to clocks for some odd reason.

Any monologuing from the both of you is abruptly cut off as another thing crashes and burns, the ceiling this time, lovely. Your gaze is drawn in by the new hole above you; expecting to see more depressing metallic grey or maybe an equally depressing stone grey, you’re instead greeted with the night sky. Better than the alternative, making direct eye contact with the sun would be a bad idea. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve seen the stars, or any celestial body, really. So you’re lucky to be graced with an almost breathtaking view of the moon right before you die, if you ignore the fire everywhere.

“Oh you HAD to play bloody cat n’ mouse, didn’t you? While people were tryin’ to work. Yeah, well now we’re ALL gonna pay the price. ‘CAUSE WE’RE ALL GONNA BLOODY DIE!”

You can’t even get words out to respond to that— as if you’ve been talking much this entire time to begin with. How the hell was this your fault? It’s a three way blame, maybe the AI around here shouldn’t enjoy murder so much. You just wanted to leave, not wreck the already musty facility. How many years had it been anyway, for the once pristine halls to look that decrepit when you woke up. It had to have been a while if that voice over the intercom glitching out in your room meant anything. ‘Nine- nine- nine- nine.’ Like, what, nine years? Ninety? Nine-hundred, perhaps? You shake your head to get rid of the thought, there is no point in dwelling on that right now, you’re seriously about to die. With neurotoxin still floating around the room and the threat of being caught in an implosion, your chances of surviving this bullshit were not very awe-inspiring.

Wheatley, ex robo-bestie/situationship turned current mortal enemy, seems to have noticed where your squinting gaze was pointed as well. Deciding to mock you one last time before you both likely get charred. Oh, grilled food sounds great right now. “Yeah, take one more look at your precious human moon! ‘Cause it cannot help you now!”

Ah, help, isn’t that the thought running through all three of your mind’s; or rather, your mind and GLaDOS & Wheatley’s circuit boards. You’ve almost accepted your fate, there’s really no feasible way out of here. Unless you can find a good surface to teleport to, but all the portal gel is in the facility that’s trying to blow up. Suddenly, without warning, the thought hits you (and a stray piece of metal, but that’s besides the point). This is likely the dumbest, most nonsensical way to escape your current dumb, nonsensical situation. The most idiotic plan you’ve ever conceived; something no one in their right mind would willingly take part in.

You mentally thank whatever gods may or may not exist for giving you this opportunity and Cave Johnson for yapping so much. Moon rocks! Truly a genius.

You take aim and quickly pull the trigger, there's no time to lose. ‘Please let this work,’ you think to yourself, ‘because it would be so fucking funny.’ All seems to go still for a moment as you think you see the moon twinkle. Just a few seconds as your disappointment builds, quickly replaced by sheer joy and adrenaline. As abruptly quiet everything had become, unparalleled entropy shattered that silence. You said no one in their right mind would do something so insane, so, for once, it’s probably good that everything in Aperture caused brain damage.

‘Wheatley was right,’ you think to yourself, ‘People with brain damage really are heroes.’

Your portal device slips out of your hands in the chaos of being sucked into a vacuum. You can lament the loss of your technologically advanced toy for not even a millisecond before you leap up and latch onto the metal ball currently being dragged through a portal. How convenient for the last bit of portal gel to be right under Wheatley. If you’re being spit out on the moon, he’s sure as hell coming with you. And to think you were almost perfectly fine with dying on Earth when the void of space was right there. “AHHHHHH!! SPACE! LET GO! WE’RE IN SPACE!” It’s a little hard to hear his yelling while wind whips past your ears, but there was no way in hell you were going to listen and let go. That last bit of self preservation has kicked in and you were hanging onto it by a thread.

“Space? Space! SPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE!!!!!!!” One of the corrupted cores fly by your head as Wheatley oh so graciously takes a hit for you. Your grip slips as you’re almost whisked away, out into the vacuum of space, devoid of air. Certain death. Woo hoo!

As scrap metal and concrete dance around you two, your attention turns to the state of the moon. A lunar base was nearby, a tiny thing, probably just for launching a NASA rover or something. Or maybe this was from the moon landing in the 60’s? You think you see what may or may not be a flagpole. But, really, what else would a chunk of white fabric attached to a pole be used for?

Actually, how long has it been since someone swapped the flag out? It’s sunbleached to hell and back. There's nothing even there anymore. You get that moon missions don’t happen very often, but surely they’d replace the flag once in a while, right?

You can feel the creaking of Wheatley as his connection to GLaDOS’ old body wanes, the space core bashing into him combined with that much air force was definitely going to cause some problems. “AGH! LET GO! LET GO! I’M STILL CONNECTED! I CAN PULL MYSELF IN! I CAN FIX THIS!”

Just as you think you can hold on no longer, another CLANG blares right under you, the sound of metal on metal, and you feel the cool touch of a familiar robotic arm grip onto you just before you’re flung out with the core. “I already fixed it! And you are NOT coming back!” GLaDOS yelps, her voice sounds significantly louder. No longer stuck in that potato if you had to guess, good for her. Whether or not that's good for you remains to be seen. You whip your head back around behind you, making eye contact as Wheatley’s pleas to be held on to fizzle out with distance.

Your head tilts down, almost going limp from exhaustion; just before your consciousness fades, from an unholy cocktail of all the stress and injuries from even just the last hour alone, one more interesting little phenomenon catches your eye. Or, more accurately, one very large phenomenon.

You squint, looking ahead, yeah that’s definitely not just the inky blackness of space. You’re no astronaut, but even you were sure that a mass of a bunch of tiny dark space pretzels wasn’t always on the moon. Or actually, NASA is government owned, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were hiding information. Didn’t they confirm the existence of aliens a few times?

Wheat.

There was just wheat everywhere.

You get rid of Wheatley and the first thing you see outside is an almost horrendous amount of wheat everywhere. From what you could recall of your hazy memories from the first time you killed an evil robot and escaped Aperture, you were definitely in a company parking lot. In or near a forest, and you were pretty sure there were trees. So why were you standing in front of a tiny metal shed, in the middle of a wheat field? Where are the trees???

You’d assume this was someone’s farm, but surely you’d see a farm house, or maybe a fence somewhere. But nope, just wheat. Besides, why would no one question where this shed came from if it was just on their property. Unless the person who owns the farm happens to work at Aperture. Which still makes no sense, because you were 87% sure everyone else is dead. Plus, you’d have seen signs of another person nearby, if there were any, no?

You sigh, letting words spill out of your throat for the first time in… well, you couldn’t really remember. “Alone…in a wheat field. With nothing but the clothes on my back and a possibly sentient cube.” You look down at your mildly roasted friend, the pink hearts on the center of each face staring back. It was quite surprising that the companion cube you were forced to leave behind forever ago actually made it out relatively unharmed. It was even more surprising that GLaDOS actually gave it back.

“Let’s go find civilization, I'd rather not starve to death in the wilderness.” You sigh as you bend down to pick up the cube, somewhat soothed by the familiar weight; if not mildly confused on why it felt heavier than usual. You’re likely just used to holding it with the portal gun rather than your hands.

It’s actually quite annoying to walk through overgrown wheat. The grass keeps rubbing against your arms in that uncomfortably itchy way and it’s just a mild hassle to push through in general. You really have no earthly idea where you are, or where you’re going. Thankfully, it’ll be a few hours until nightfall at the very least.

“I should give you a name. You and I are the only things that left that hellscape. We’re trauma bonded now, whether you have a consciousness or not.” You hum, you really can’t see much of anything else. If this, hypothetically, was the same place you exited Aperture for the first time, how long would it have had to have been for the land to change so much?

“I better not be hopelessly in the middle of nowhere, please let there at least be a small town nearby…even if it’s full of weirdos or something.” the sound of your whining is the only thing that fills the air. Truly, you’d take hillbilly hell over the crushing silence and solitude. Which is a sentence you never thought you’d utter in your life. You’re hardly able to finish your sentence before you trip over something and eat shit, hard. You squeeze your eyes shut on instinct, thankfully. A wheat stalk in the eyeball sounds quite painful.

You cannot catch a break, freshly free from human experimentation and you immediately injure yourself. Back luck, it’s all you got. Your hands sting as you push yourself up for the umpteeth time in the last few days. It could be worse, your already calloused palms are used to getting hit by a myriad of materials. “Ah- shit-. What the hell?!” You yelp as you brush off dirt, whipping around to see what just attempted to assassinate you.

“ah…shit, seriously. What the hell?”

There's only two explanations you could come up with for whatever you’re staring at. Either someone decided to dump an incredibly realistic statue out in the middle of nowhere, or you were suddenly transported to ancient, mythological Greece and Medusa is somewhere nearby. All you can really do is stare, in mild horror. It looks way too realistic. Human in a way someone like Michelangelo could never hope to emulate in his sculptures. Humanoid, yes, but cold and unfeeling. This on the other hand was just uncanny enough to set off every alarm in your mind, yet your brain recognized it as a living thing.

If this was once a person, what unfortunate happenings have occurred on the surface while you were in that facility? If not, what artist had the skill to craft something so terrifyingly beautiful, only to leave it out in the middle of nowhere?

You slowly take a few steps back, watching where your feet are so you don’t get a repeat of a few seconds ago. Were you in a horror movie? Did GLaDOS prank you again? Is this her fucked up version of The Truman Show? Aperture basically defied the laws of physics, realistic simulation tech isn’t that outrageous to think of. Virtual reality headsets have been more and more prominent, you think you recall hearing something about one being released in the next few years. Well, before you entered Aperture, you don’t know what year it is right now.

You will yourself to break away from this one sided eye contact, swiftly picking up your companion cube from where you accidentally launched it out of your hands. Spinning around, you walk away, careful to watch for any more of those…”statues.” Seriously creepy things, like those sculptures in cemeteries that move the second you turn your back. Weeping angels, is that what they’re called? You think you just found one.

You stay silent for a bit longer, like speaking would awaken that statue. Your ears only hear the rustle and crunch of the wheat under your boots and your gaze frequently flits around to watch for anything unusual. It feels as though the whole world has gone still, not even the wind daring to caress your surroundings. It’d be unnerving, the lack of noise and your earlier discovery, if you were anyone else. However, anything that isn’t circuit boards and wires brings you peace.

As soon as you think you’re far enough— or maybe the silence was beginning to get unbearable— you allow yourself to speak out loud again. You hold out your companion cube in front of you, eyeing it with contemplation. “Like I said, you need a name…and I am so horrendously bad at naming things.” You patiently wait for a response as you continue your trek through the field, eyes peeled for any more objects embedded in the ground. Despite the futuristic design and the practicality of long fall boots, they were easy to trip in. At the very least, they made you taller.

You continue on this journey for minutes, likely hours. Lack of contact with the outside world truly fucked over your time perception. The crunching of wheat, occasional blow of wind, the sporadic conversation that no one but yourself had the ability to hear; it was therapeutic in an odd way. Like going on a walk around your neighborhood in the dead of night. Something that requires the utmost vigilance yet is soothing all the same.

On the distant horizon, you think you recognize some trees. Ah, it’s beginning to make sense now. It’s quite silly of you to assume Aperture only had one entrance. They may have used OSHA’s violations as a to-do list, but even they would have multiple exits for such a big facility, right? Who knows, maybe you’ll find a staff member…if any of them escaped GLaDOS’ neurotoxin. A highly improbable situation, but you don’t think the chances are 0%

32 notes · View notes

sacredthethreadgvf · 9 months ago

Text

Limelight | Jake Kiszka x Reader | Part 2.

Word Count: 20.3k

Chapter warnings: SMUT!! Dirty talk, unprotected p in v. Talks of poor mental health that could be triggering. Mentions of family issues and trauma in childhood linked to parents not being available for their children or discouraging them.

A/N: Hey everyone..I am so sorry this chapter took me so freaking long to write out for you. My mental health has taken a turn for the worst over the last couple of months and the burnout as a result has been unmanageable. This story means so much to me and I am so happy that I can finally share part 2 with you. This is lightly edited so my apologies. This chapter can be quite triggering so if I have missed anything, or if there is anything that personally is triggering to you as a reader that I did not heed in my warnings pleaseee send me a message so I can add it to my list.

Lastly, I have to give the biggest shout out to @joshym who has spent hours with me on FaceTime, been bombarded with texts and vm’s about ideas for this chapter and has encouraged me to continue writing even when I wanted to give up. This story wouldnt be where it was without her support. Alright Ill shut up now, enjoy…

****

September 3rd.

STARCATCHER

St. Paul, MN.

Getting back into your routine after a short break was easier than you had originally anticipated. You had actually missed life on the bus to an extent. The chaos that seemed to surround the boys and a different venue or city every day held a sort of excitement you couldn’t seem to get in any other aspect of your life at the moment.

A true taste of the limelight, if you will.

“On the road again! I can't wait to get on the road again!” Josh's boisterous singing and snapping of fingers carried through the white labyrinth hallways of St. Paul's Xcel Energy Center as he sang into the mic for soundcheck.

The energy surrounding the boys and the team seemed to be back on top of the world after a much needed break. There was almost an electric energy surrounding the venue and it was infectious. You had spent the day running around the city with a few members of the team grabbing last minute snacks, lunches, dinners, and drinks. It had been a busy afternoon and you finally made it back to the venue in time to hear a little bit of the boys soundcheck.

Following the sound of Josh singing through the white halls you couldn't help but smile to yourself at how good he sounded, his voice carrying effortlessly. You finally paused at the main entrance from the hallway to the stage and stood against the wall, your smile grew. To be honest, you couldn't contain your smile when it came to Jake anymore. The thought of what happened a few weeks ago plaguing your mind. Whatever it was with him felt like the thrill of your life at the moment. You paused and watched his fingers move along the frets, watching closely as he tweaked this string and that, and signaling to his tech to adjust the volume of his guitar.

He looked even better than he had before the break. He had a refreshed look on his face. His energy seemed to be at an all time high as you watched him throw a guitar pick at Sam, narrowly missing his head while Josh continued to belt without sound from the instruments surrounding him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jake in person since that night at the impromptu office party and you two had your heated moment together. You could still feel the burning of his fingertips on your legs and you hated to admit it but you spent almost every night since then imagining what could have transpired if you hadn’t been interrupted.

You had wanted to reach out to him. You wanted to text him or call him to see how his break was going, see how he was doing but you never had the heart to pull the trigger. It felt wrong. You had to remind yourself that you worked for the man. You couldn't let one heated make out session with a hot guitarist uproot your entire career just because you felt like you were touch starved.

You laughed to yourself as you watched Sam throw a guitar pick back at Jake and began to giggle as Josh snapped his head in their direction, shooting his younger siblings a warning glare. You finally approached one of Jake's sound techs and stood beside him for a moment, crossing your arms out of habit to guard yourself when you felt out of place or even slightly anxious. “All good here?” You asked, watching as Jake sprinted across the stage and pretended to kick Sam.

The tech, who’s name you learned was Scott, looked at you and smiled, “Seems so. Just can't keep the guys focused enough to get everything done in a timely fashion.”

“I am not surprised.” You rolled your eyes and huffed a small laugh.

“Right!” Scott responded with a small laugh, hooking a string to one of Jake’s prized Gibsons.

You looked back towards the stage just in time to catch Jake looking at you with a mischievous smile, his sunglasses hiding the rest of his face. He waved at you softly to which you returned and the butterflies erupted in your stomach.

Fuck, focus Y/N.

You patted Scott’s shoulder, “Well if youre all good here, I'm going to go back and make sure everything is in working order. Holler on the radio if you need anything.” You said, gesturing to the black radio hooked on your waistband.

“Hey thanks Y/N. I appreciate it.”

“You are most welcome.”

Your head snapped back to the boys on stage as you heard the first couple notes ring out loudly from Jake's guitar. It seemed like at least Jake had finally found his motivation to focus. Thank goodness.

***

Just as quickly as the soundcheck started, it had finished. This is when the true chaos began. Everyone was running around backstage trying to not only wrangle the boys to make sure they were on time for the schedule but also get them ready simultaneously. You had been working diligently setting up snacks and drinks for the night as well as organizing not only the boys dinner, but the staff's dinner as well.

You were approaching show time quickly and you decided to drop off Jake’s dinner to him personally instead of setting it aside to be picked up when he pleased. Through the grapevine you had heard the first show back after break was the most nerve wracking for him and it was best to leave him alone. But you figured, as his new assistant, you would take the time to drop off his dinner personally and see if he needed any help. Walking into his greenroom, you found Jake hunched over polishing his black stage boots and humming along to a Black Keys song playing through a speaker you set up for him across the room. He looked up at you when he heard you enter the room and shot you a look that had you instantly weak in the knees, “Hey Clover.”

“Hello Jacob.” You set the box of food on a table nearby with its respective plastic fork and knife set. Super fancy things for the rockstars.

“Ooh, I’m Jacob now?” The smile widened on his face which you didn’t believe was possible. “Didn’t know we were on a government first given name basis.”

“Something like that.” You turned away from him, trying your best to hide the blush on your cheeks and a big smile.

“So,” Jake closed the tin on his black leather polish. “What have you been up to Y/N?”

“Ooh, first full government name now Jacob?” You taunted him as you set out a few towels to carry to the stage with you.

“Something like that.” He whispered. You jumped slightly as you realized he had quietly approached you from behind, fingertips grazing your lower back softly.

You pushed him away and rolled your eyes, still smiling and made a beeline for the case of water and wine bottles set aside in the corner of the room. “Oh shut up Jake.”

“Don’t be so rude Clover!” He placed a hand over his heart.

You carefully set a water bottle down on the table and turned to face him, a soft mocking glare in his direction. “You'll survive I think.”

“Don't be such a brat either!” His jaw dropped but there was a gleam in his eye. He missed this with you, the banter, the flirting, how you always had a non stop pink tint to your cheeks around him, it made the zipper on his pants feel extra constricting.

You had decided to ignore Jake’s flirtatious remarks in lue of the time. “Alright c'mon and eat, we need to get the ball rolling here.” You snapped your fingers and pointed to your non-existent watch on your wrist. “Times a tickin!”

Jake saluted you and gave you a soft smirk, grabbing the to go box and settling back onto the couch comfortably. He watched unabashedly as you exited the room in search of Rose for some odds and ends before the show started. He shamelessly pulled at the crotch of his pants a bit before getting comfortable enough to eat the wrap he had ordered.

***

Not but an hour later and after many silly runs back and forth between respective green rooms you heard the final call over the radios.

“Time to deliver the package to the stage.”

You stood outside of Jake’s green room leaning up against the white painted brick walls that resembled your old school hallways. You knocked three times on the closed door signaling it was time. Jake opened the door moments later, sharing a soft smile with you and a head nod as a signal to you now that he was ready to go. He was clad in a new black suit. A suit you weren’t aware was making a debut this evening. You had seen it before, tucked away on a hanger when you had been at the office mere weeks ago. But actually seeing it on Jake. Well, this was a different story.

The shoulders were covered in rhinestones and glass beads alike and fuck he looked good. Your eyes widened at the sight of his strong chest and his bare stomach displayed against the black satin. The matching black pants hugged him in all the right places as he walked by to meet up with his brothers. You were still perched up against the wall, mouth slightly agape as Rose approached you, “Ready?”

You were startled and quickly shook your head, “Absolutely!”

You watched as the boys began to walk ahead of you, pushing each other against walls and laughs filling the air. You knew by now that this was the last moment of fun before they dialed in for the night.

The chorus of classical music became louder as you approached the stage through the same hallway and gate as you did earlier. The boys’ usual pre show antics died down as well as any casual discussion amongst team members. Flashlights began to light the way as you approached the entrance to the stage in the dark and this is the moment you also dialed in on your heart racing in your chest. Even though you weren’t performing you held a sense of nerves for each of the men in front of you as they passed briefly, Josh getting his mic, Sam his bass, Jake his guitar strap and pick and Danny his first set of drumsticks for the evening.

You watched Jake as he adjusted a few dials on his Gibson, placing the guitar pick between his teeth as he followed his brothers up the stage steps. This is the moment the adrenaline hits.

Jake turned his head towards you for a brief moment as he made it to the top of the platform standing next to his brothers. He gave you a curt nod and a smile and you returned it with a thumbs up before he turned his head forward, facing the back of the curtain.

Showtime.

The screams became louder as you watched the lights dance across the curtain in front of you, the sound of the orchestra picking up. You looked over at Rose and smiled as she patted Josh on the back and sent him away. A few moments later, the curtain fell and the screams from the fans were the only thing you focused on. You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face as you watched the boys pose and prepare for a night of revelry.

***

The first show back has been going smoothly. You still held a certain anxiety that you wouldn’t be prepared for Jake but you seemed to have found a dynamic with him pretty quickly throughout the first half of the show. Thankfully it seemed like his ques for more wine or a towel or even a new guitar pick had been more apparent than what you had originally dealt with.

Okay here's your cue, here they come.

You thought to yourself as the first half of the show came to a close.

Josh stepped off the stage and made a bee line for Rose. Sam ran shortly after him and had already exited into the hallway to head to B stage before Jake even stepped foot off of the stairs. It wasn't until you two were hidden away from the prying eyes of the crowd that he allowed himself to touch you.

“Hey Clover,” He bumped his shoulder against yours, the sharpness of the beads on his shoulders scratching at your skin briefly. “How are you enjoying the show?”

Your mind was running a million miles an hour, too focused on getting Jake situated for his B stage appearance to even give yourself time to acknowledge the fact that his knuckles were currently grazing your bare thigh underneath the bottom seam of your shorts as his arm swayed back and forth. You glanced sideways at his face finally and watched as he brushed his other hand through his hair, the sweat pooling on his hairline and a few strands of his hair sticking to the side of his face. You handed him a towel and watched shamelessly from the corner of your eye as he wiped away that sweat.

“I always enjoy the show!” You pulled the ice cold water bottle dripping with condensation from the little bag you were carrying and cracked it, handing it off to him.

You heard him hum as he took a long swig from the bottle, “I know, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Fuck.

You both slowed your walk a little bit through the hallway as you both realized you were approaching the gate to exit to B Stage. You finally looked at him now that you had slowed your pace together and realized how much he had actually been sweating.

“Come here.” You turned your body towards him.

“What? What's wrong?”

“Look up for me.” You dug through the little bag and pulled out a cotton ball and a mini bottle of micellar water. You reached out and began cleaning up some of the dripping eyeliner that started to run from his sweat.

He flinched slightly and began to swat your hand away. “Woah! Why are you doing that?”

“Relax, your eyeliner is running.”

“Don't we want the eyeliner to run? Makes me look more rugged and more like a pirate, no?” He couldn’t contain the smile that was breaking across his face, as much as he was trying.

You rolled your eyes, “You’re borderline pirate and looking like you just went through a messy break up. Just let me fix this spot.”

“Whatever Clover.” He rolled his eyes and continued to cooperate with your request.

“Alright, that should do it, here.” you held out a second fresh towel to dab away any sweat that had been collecting on his neck that he had missed while you had begun to tuck your supplies away in your book bag.

“Hey Clove? Can you hold this for me?” He asked out of nowhere. There was a glimmer in his eye as you realized he was holding a white rose. Wherever he had that tucked away, he had hidden it pretty well.

“What's this?” You blushed.

You watched as Jake wiped his forehead and neck with a fresh towel you had just handed him in exchange for the white flower. “It’s a rose?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks captain obvious, I mean why do you have it?”

“It’s for you little Clover. A token of my appreciation for all that you do for me s’all.”

You blushed furiously at the nickname and the sweet gesture he bestowed upon you. “Where the hell did you even hide that anyways?”

“Dont worry about it.”

Damn that cocky smirk of his.

As the drums faded away in the background and the screams of appreciation from the crowd died down on the other side of the wall, you could hear the beginning notes of Unchained Melody carry through the venue. Jake stepped a little bit closer to you as he began to walk by, his fingertips trailing across your back as he leaned down and kissed your cheek softly, “Missed you Y/N.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and your jaw dropped as you watched him walk away and take place next to security at the foot of the stairs to B-stage. You were in trouble.

***

You figured after a successful, jam packed busy day you would have no problem on your first night back sleeping on the bus. Yet here you were, tossing and turning without any luck. You just couldn't sleep. The constant rocking of the bus, the motion from the hard pavement below underneath the tires, the snores sounding from around you, all of it. You rubbed your eyes and grabbed your phone from the side pocket of the bunk where it was safely tucked away, the screen blinding you momentarily as you unlocked your phone.

3:15 AM.

You figured you would just give up on sleep at this point. You only had about a 5 hour drive until you arrived at your hotel in Chicago and just figured you could just rest on this day off. Jake would understand and you were certain he wouldn't mind leaving you alone to catch up on some rest if needed.

You sighed softly as you grabbed your headphones, the current book you were reading and slowly and as quietly as you could you crawled out of the top bunk, your big toe painfully balancing on a bunk below you as you stepped down. You were grateful for the blue lights that illuminated the walkways in the bus and the fact that this bus had a second story lounge. How in the hell that even fit up there, you hadn’t a clue but you were about to argue with anyone about it. This allowed sleeping quarters and recreation quarters, which was perfect for moments like this. Maybe you'd even be able to watch the sunrise this morning from the front of the bus.

You padded quietly through the hall and made your way to the very small staircase and began your descent, the only sound around you was the wind whipping by and the soft snores coming from a few of the bunks. You sighed softly and smiled to yourself as you found the empty booth with the big window at the front of the bus on the upper level. You settled into your spot and opened your book, instantly regretting not bringing your blanket and pillow with you for comfort yet refusing to go back down in case you might disturb anyone.

Some time had passed and you had been a few chapters into your book at this point when the sound of someone clearing their throat across the room made you jump out of your skin.

“Well, what are you doing up Clover?” Jake smiled at you softly. He grabbed a small water bottle from the mini fridge a few feet away from you and took a few sips. He was so casual as he leaned against the counter.

You gasped and removed the hand that had jumped to your chest, “Jesus Jake! You scared the shit out of me!”

“My apologies Clover.” He slid into the booth across from you. “What are you reading?”

Your face flushed hot and your eyes grew wide . “Oh..nothing, uhm..it's just some fantasy story.” You hadn't the heart to tell him about the raunchy words that you had just been reading. The book had quite the plethora of smut tucked away in many pages. A guilty pleasure of yours that you hated to admit.

“Just some fantasy huh?” His eyebrows raised and you watched as his tongue peek out and meet the lip of the water bottle before his lips closed around the opening. Stop staring like a weirdo Y/N. “I like fantasies. Could I read it after you? I need something new.”

Your throat went dry, “I don't think..I don't think this is your cup of tea really Jake.”

“Why's that?” He reached over to the book and lifted the cover to peek at the artwork.

“I just-..”

“Spit it out little Clover, cmon.” He smirked as he withdrew his hand.

“There's a lot of uhm,” You averted your gaze to anything but his face and your voice lowered to a whisper. “There's a lot of…sex.”

“What was that?” Dammit Jake…

You cleared your throat softly.“There's a lot of sex.”

His head turned sideways, almost inquisitive. “And who said I didn't like sex?”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times but words seemed to fail you. Being in Jake's presence, even thinking about sex in his presence, it felt dirty. It made you feel hot in all the wrong places for your own boss.

“Just let me know when you're finished with it, I think I will enjoy it.” He tipped his head back and finished the water bottle. You watched his hands as he crushed it effortlessly between them, twisting the cap back on the top after it was flattened. “Why are you awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You removed the book from the table in front of you, away from prying eyes.

“I asked you first.” He leaned back and smirked, toying with the empty ball of plastic in front of him.

You rolled your eyes slightly. “I'm still getting used to the whole ‘sleeping on a tour bus’ I guess. The bunks are uncomfortable, I feel like I'm sleeping in a coffin and the motion sickness doesn't help. Even with the Dramamine I've been living off of.”

“You will have that with this lifestyle sometimes,” He gave you a sympathetic look. “I'm sorry Y/N. You really should try and at least get some rest though, it’s only day one.”

You nodded, “Unfortunately I do not think that is in the cards for me this evening.”

Jake hummed.

“You never answered my question.” You said.

“Ah,” He fiddled with the empty water bottle again. “I too cannot sleep this evening. I guess I'm a little wired after tonight's show.”

“The crowd was electric tonight.” You confirmed.

“They were indeed.”

A tense silence fell between you two, like you were testing each other to see who would speak first. Naturally, it was Jake who broke the silence and you took note of how he nervously brushed his fingers through his hair for a moment.

“Hey, wanna watch some tv with me? I used to watch cooking shows when I was younger and had trouble sleeping…but if that's not your forte, we can watch a movie or something.” He gestured down towards the back of the bus where a few couches spread out along the length of the bus and a nice sized plasma tv hung off the wall. His rambling was cute.

“I love cooking shows.”

***

Thankfully, Jake knew where some extra blankets had already been stored by the couches to bundle up on the bus since it usually ran cold for the best nighttime sleeping. He had turned on the Food Network and you two were settled on opposite sides of the little loveseat watching Chopped.

“Do you really think they don't know what is in a basket before they open it?” You asked, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

Jake's brows furrowed as he chewed, “They have to have some kind of idea because there's no way they can make these gourmet meals in 20 minutes out of random ingredients.”

“Right! I mean, power to them if they truly don’t know. I don't think I could come up with a meal like that out of the blue and make it fancy.”

You two fell back in a comfortable silence as you watched the cooks move across the screen. You hated to admit it but your body ached for Jake to be close to you, as much as you tried to deny it. His cologne was once again invading every one of your senses and it was intoxicating. With the way you were angled you were able to make small glances at his side profile discreetly. Or so you thought until his eyes met yours and he broke out into a smile and shook his head. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Got a staring problem Clover?” He grabbed another handful of popcorn from the bowl placed perfectly inbetween you. Cocky bastard.

Your eyes widened, “Huh?”

“Don't play dumb with me. I could feel your eyes burning a hole in the side of my face.” His voice dropped a whole delicious octave as he smirked and tipped his head in your direction.

“I don't know what youre talking about Jakey.” You tried to hide the smile that broke across your face as you looked back at the tv screen.

“Oh I'm Jakey now huh?”

You rolled your eyes, “I guess it's rubbing off on me from the others.”

“Hmm.” He smirked again and you felt him shift from his spot on the couch next to you slightly .

“C’mere Clover.” He cleared his throat and whispered, your head snapped in his direction. He had positioned himself so his left arm was hanging on the back of the couch facing you a bit more and he had opened the blanket that was placed on his lap prior, offering a clear space for you to snuggle up.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes and smirked, “I know you're not deaf either.” He began moving towards you and your breath caught in your throat as you felt his hands find their way under both of your thighs and another around your torso gripping tightly. “I said. Come. Here.”

Your heart was racing wildly in your chest as he settled back down on his side of the couch with you now tucked into his side. He threw the blanket over both of your laps now and one of his hands rested across your thigh. You still had a perfect view of the TV from your position but now being unable to see Jake, you felt uneasy.

“Much better,” He whispered against your ear. “I was getting a bit cold and you looked uncomfortable over there.” He paused to tuck your hair behind the same ear he had just been speaking into.

Your face went hot and you sat rigid in your position against Jake. This felt way too intimate. You two hadn't had the chance to talk about or acknowledge the heated kiss you had shared a few weeks ago in the darkroom. This was toeing the line of downright inappropriate for a situation with your boss. But it felt way too good in the moment that you couldn't help yourself, you had been craving his touch for weeks now. Spending many lonely nights in your apartment back in Nashville wishing that he was there next to you, just like this.

“Relax Clover,” Jake's fingertips brushed along your thigh, inching closer to the inside. “‘S just me. No need to be so tense.”

That's the thing, you thought. It's you Jake..

You focused on the cooks on the screen, scrambling about to finish their tasks in time. You were hyper aware of every movement Jake was making, down to each one of his breaths filling his lungs with oxygen. Oxygen that you felt you needed so desperately. Your head was still swimming and you were slightly uncomfortable in your position but your skin felt alive so you didn't dare to move an inch. You counted as the minutes ticked along before you felt him take a deep breath behind you, “Clover.”

You turned your head ever so slightly and felt as his lips made contact with your cheek, the softest touch of them dragging across your cheekbone. Goosebumps spread across your arms and legs. You closed your eyes and sighed softly as you tilted your head in his direction. You wanted him at this moment. You wanted all of him, no you needed him. You didn't care anymore that he was your boss. You didn't care about the possible repercussions the two of you faced every time you found each other alone in a secluded area. Your back arched closer to him as his fingertips brushed the apex of your inner thigh. Fuck all inhibitions, he was downright addicting.

You became suddenly aware of the fast movements his hands were making towards your core as his fingertips traced light circles against your inner thigh. He was getting dangerously close, so close to where you needed him most. You took a chance to look back in his direction to find his eyes half lidded watching you closely. From your angle it would be so easy to continue tipping your head to the side and kiss him. The feeling of his breath against your lips as he struggled to keep his own composure. The throbbing became more intense as his fingertips brushed along the band of your underwear hidden away underneath your sleep shorts. Your skin felt like it was on fire.

You couldn’t help but mimic his actions and turned your body to face him better, your fingers immediately finding the edge of the waistband of his shorts. The feeling of his soft tummy underneath your finger trips with a little trail of coarse hair made your legs clench together at the thought of what he even looked like without clothes on. His breath began to stutter and his fingertip finally dipped underneath the hem of your panties, grazing the soft mound of skin.

Your confidence grew as you felt how hard he was, straining against his own pants. All for you. You had accidentally grazed him, to which he jumped slightly in reply and a soft groan escaped his throat. You clenched around nothing at the low growl that vibrated against your ear. Before he could move any further you fully grabbed into the head of his throbbing cock in his pants, the girth alone making your core clench.

He let out a longer groan this time, his head tipping back for a moment before his half-lidded eyes met yours again. “Wrong move sweetheart.”

His hand that was dangerously close to toying with you snaps up to your neck and grips you roughly. You gasp as his lips make contact with your cheek again and move quickly over to your ear biting it with enough pressure to elicit a gasping moan from your throat.

More, more, please dear god more…yes…fuck.

Someone cleared their throat.

You lept out of Jake’s arms just as quickly as he had already been pushing you away towards the other end of the couch again. Your heart hammering in your chest.

Both you and Jake made eye contact with Danny who was smirking wildly, eating a pack of gummies.

“What do we have here?”

Fuck. Fuck no, no.

Your eyes snapped to Jake whose face was giving away the fact that he probably had the same thoughts before you both looked back at Danny. You felt like a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs.

This could cost you your job.

Not just with Greta Van Fleet but at your firm as well. You felt sick.

“Danny, listen man..” Jake was rigid.

He held a hand up after he popped another gummy bear into his mouth. “Look, honestly I could give a shit less, let's be real. Just, be fucking careful for goodness sake.” He leaned down to grab a water bottle from the fridge. “You’re lucky it’s me who’s up right now and not anyone else.”

You took a chance to look towards Jake again, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth now in a tight line. You made note of his knee bouncing with anxiety. You still felt like a deer in headlights yourself.

“Just promise me you won’t do this on the bus again. At least try and hide it between you two.” Danny pleaded as he crushed the plastic water bottle in his hands.

Jake rubbed his nose and stole a glance in your direction, “You have our word.”

September 6th.

STARCATCHER

Chicago, IL.

The speakers boomed wildly in the arena. The screams from fans either shouting their graces or singing their favorite lyrics at the top of their lungs filled the air around you. You closed your eyes for a brief moment on the side of the stage and took a deep breath. You began humming along to one of your favorite songs that was booming through the arena speakers that you learned quite well since you started working with Greta Van Fleet. You focused on the notes from Jake's guitar more than anything if you were being honest. Opening your eyes you couldn't help but immediately follow his figure on stage. Watching him live out his dream he had told you started in his parents garage many years ago that took off, what felt like, overnight.

This right here. This is why you did what you did.

Music was your true passion, but being able to watch the friends that you made along the way live out their dreams, to see people live up to their true potential and become recognized for it? It made your chest ache with pride. You couldn't be more proud of the four men on that stage in front of you. You couldn't be more proud of Jake.

You hadn't talked to Jake about that night on the bus. You had a moment of tension after Danny retreated back to his bunk after his late night snack escapade, but Jake quickly broke it by sending you a soft smile and suggesting to follow what Danny had mentioned and that going to bed would be a good idea. He had been acting bashful, like a child who was just caught stealing the candy out of the candy drawer, but he acted no different towards you. In fact, he had kissed your cheek briefly and cracked a joke about being more cautious. He had a knack for easing your anxiety, assuring you that Danny wouldn't tell their tour manager but to probably keep things at a minimum between the two of you for now.

You had officially given up on trying to deny your feelings towards him. The way he carried himself on and off stage was something you weren't even aware that you were looking for in a romantic partner. He was kind, funny, confident yet shy in an endearing way, and god dammit was he good looking. You knew it was so wrong to feel this way but you were almost sure that he felt the same way too.

He had been stealing glances your way tonight on stage and where you were looking for his signals for more wine or another towel, you found none. Instead you found smiles, soft eyes, and the occasional wink sent in your direction. There was no denying it. You weren't in a rush to ask him what was going on between the two of you, both out of your own fear of abandonment and not wanting to label or ruin what you had going for you. It was light and fun and fuckin hot. The random moments like the one you shared on the bus a few days ago, you loved the insatiable feeling that was building in your chest. You smiled briefly and bit your lip remembering the feeling of Jake's fingers so close to where you needed him and looked down at your shoes, hiding the emotions written all over your face. It was clear as day you were a million miles away and with Rose standing so close you feared she would turn and catch you blushing wildly.

You looked down at your watch and noticed the time, matching up with the music you knew the boys would be off stage soon and post-show chaos would reign once again. Usually, for reasons you still couldn't understand, the boys would have what you liked to call “post-concert zoomies”. How the hell they had so much energy after working their asses off, you had no clue, but usually one or two or all of them would end up in some sort of mischievous activity to finish out the night. You tapped lightly on Rose's shoulder to get her attention. “Hey, Im going to sneak back now and tidy up a bit so we can get the fuck out of here tonight at a decent time. Is that okay with you?”

“Absolutely of course it is, I'll keep an eye on Jake for you.”

“Thanks.” You patted her shoulder and made a beeline for Jake's dressing room. Trying to help Rose wrangle these men as well as try and clean up and avoid distractions from Jake after a show had proven to be quite difficult since the break. It seems all the energy they restored was now tenfold and making you and Rose stress more than usual to stay on time with bus calls at the end of the day.

You opened the door to Jake's dressing room and started tidying up by folding random clothes and sorting them into piles, cleaning up the makeup station and throwing away the random food boxes from dinner. The roars of the crowd became louder and then ceased after a moment or two, signaling the end of the show for the evening. By the time you heard the boys coming through the halls, Josh talking at a higher volume than the rest, you had just set a towel aside with Jake's shower items for him on a blank counter.

“I'll catch you guys in a bit.” Jakes tilted his chin up to his brothers before locking eyes with you in the room.

“Hey Clover,” His smile bright and his eyes gleaming with the overhead lights, you took notice of the long stem white rose he was twirling between his thumb and first two fingers. “Forgot to grab this for you earlier.” He walked towards you slowly and presented you with yet another white rose.

Your cheeks go aflame and you cannot contain your smile. “That's three roses now, I'm losing places to save them Jake.” You bring the flower up to your nose and inhale its scent as Jake pulls off the black jacket and lays it on the couch.

“Where have you been hiding them anyways?” He shoots you a questioning look.

“I have my places, away from the prying eyes of anyone else.”

“Ahh, I see.” Jake flitted around the room effortlessly, gathering up little personal items and then grabbing his items to go shower. That weird moment of tension settling through the air again. You wanted to ask Jake about the kiss, the bus, his actions towards you. All of it. Your head began to swim at the thought of his possible responses or reactions.

He had been so flirty with you still but did he mean anything by it? He hasn't brought up what happened between either of you as well. Did that mean he regretted it?

“Y/N!” Danny's voice rang through the doorway. Your saving grace you suppose. “Do you have any makeup remover? Rose is low I guess and she said she has to save it for the diva.”

You giggle and glance over to the otherside of the room to see that Jake had already retreated to the shower. “Uhhh, yeah, yes I think I do Danny.”

You stood from your spot on the couch and made your way to your bag digging out the extra bottle of micellar water and a pack of cotton balls and you handed them back to Danny across the room.

“Thanks Y/N.” He nodded at you. “Hey by the way, I think we are all meeting in Josh's dressing room in a little bit for a few drinks as a celebration. You should join us!”

You smiled at him and crossed your arms, “Sure, I just have a few things to finish up here first with Jake and I'll be there. What are we celebrating?”

“Jake is starting another band with a few of our close friends and things are falling into place. I think they will actually be opening for us for a few shows looking into next year. He hasn't told you about it?” Danny's brows furrowed.

“Wait really? No, no he hasn't.”

“Ask him about it if you dare, he's super excited.” Danny winked and closed the door as he turned to make his exit.

A new band huh..

You smiled to yourself softly at the thought of Jake's love for music and his dedication. You don't think you have met someone so passionate about their craft yet and it excited the butterflies in your stomach. You settled onto the cool leather couch in the green room and opened your laptop, you had a few invoices to log for Rose for the day that thankfully would not take too long. The sound of packing up outside the doors, keys jingling, people yelling commands at one another all quickly became background noise to you as you typed away in the excel sheet designated for you and Rose. You had been so focused on your computer screen you had not heard the creak of the bathroom door as Jake made his exit from his shower.

Your only cue was seeing nothing but wet skin and a crisp white towel in your peripheral. Your heart caught in your throat and you sucked in a sharp gasp, hoping that it wasn't loud enough for Jake to catch it. You felt like a deer in headlights, his towel left little to the imagination. You slowly studied his chest down to the little patch of previously shaved hair on his pubic bone, his hair dropping and the water rolling down his skin.

Your eyes darted to his face last and while he hadn't been looking at you, you could see the smirk he was once again trying so hard to cover. “See something you like, Y/N?” He placed his jeans and belt down on the counter across from you.

Your mouth was agape without realizing it, “I…uh-…oh holy fuck…I’m so, so sorry Jake.” You quickly shut your laptop and stood to make your way out the door.

He cleared his throat and you watched the skin across his knuckles tighten shamelessly as he gripped the towel tighter. You could ever so clearly make out the shape of him hidden away behind the cotton towel. The thought that it shouldn’t be that easy to see such a thing made your mouth run dry and your core begin to pound. You stood quickly, making haste to the closed door.

“No, wait.” he said breathlessly.

“Y/N,” Jake took a step towards you and you both froze again. “Clover..” his opposite hand holding the towel raised slightly like he was trying to calm a wild animal that had approached closer than anticipated.

“Dont.”

Your hand paused on the door handle of the green room, unsure why you listened but every cell in your body felt like you would comply with any word that passed those soft lips.

You turned back around and faced Jake slowly only to find he was now closer than before. You could smell his old spice shampoo and body wash surrounding you. You watched as a droplet of water ran down the side of his forehead, down his cheek and finally dropped off the bottom of his chin. He looked sinful all wet like this. His hair was slightly slicked back with a few pieces still sticking to his face. As he took a few more steps towards you, you could feel the heat from the hot shower radiating off of his skin.

“Clover.” He repeated, more softly than before.

Your eyes unintentionally dropped to his lips then quickly snapping back up to his eyes. You watched as he lifted his hand and felt the brush of his finger on your cheek, wiping away what you assumed was a bit of your mascara that might’ve flaked off during the day.

His eyebrows furrowed and you took a moment to admire the soft pout of his bottom lip as he flicked away the little black speck. Goodness, you wanted to feel his mouth against yours again.

His eyes lifted back to yours and he walked towards you and pushed you back against the door with a soft thud. Your breath ceased to exist for a moment. You watched intently as Jake’s eyes flickered down toward your lips. He was moving closer to you, intent on kissing you which was apparent by the way he licked his lips.

A pounding at the door made the back of your head jump slightly, “Jake cmon man hurry up! You’re taking longer than fuckin Josh does.” Sam’s voice rang out through the solid oak.

You let out a breath and Jake smirked, “Sammy boy seems to have impeccable timing.” He said softly.

“Seems so.” You returned his soft smile and hoped he would kiss you even after your interrupted moment. Your heart sank in disappointment as Jake stepped away from you and made his way across the room to his case where you had tucked away his change of clothes earlier.

“Can you run ahead and tell Sammy I’ll be there in a moment, Clover? I’m sure he’s about ready to grab Daniel to break the door down.” You watched as his thumb tucked away underneath the rolled up band of his towel, mouth going dry at the brief thought of what was hidden away by a thin piece of fabric. What probably was softly tucked up against your hip a moment ago.

“Uh..yeah, yes I’ll do that right away.” You squeaked from your dry throat.

“Thanks Y/N.”

With a wink and a soft head nod in your direction, he dipped into the bathroom once again to change. You trailed out of his greenroom desperate for some fresh air. Maybe a damn cigarette at this point. Simply anything to calm your wild heart.

***

While you had been opposed to drinking on the job, you had found Sam and Josh to be very convincing. The second you step foot into the green room down the hall you are instantly surrounded by loud music and booming voices.

“Que sera, sera! Whatever will be, will be..”

Josh had his arms wrapped tight around one of the security guards and another arm around Sam. All three of them belting the chorus to the song, legs kicking in the air in unison. Laughter followed shortly after. You couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions. You were so grateful to have started working with Greta Van Fleet. You felt your shoulders drop and all your worries seemed to melt as you took in the scene in front of you. Smiles all around, laughter filling the air.

“Ahh! Y/N!,” Josh boomed, waving his finger in your direction. “So glad you could sneak away from my twin to join us. Come, come! Pick your poison darling!”

Josh pranced across the room towards you, still rocking one of his famous jumpsuits and rhinestones. He looped his arm with yours and dragged you over to a small table littered with ice buckets, beers, cups, liquors and mixers alike.

“We have it all! What would you like?”

“Hmm, surprise me!” You smiled.

“You don’t want that,” Jake's voice rang out beside you, making your body flush with heat. “He’ll make you a damn salty dog.”

“What's that?” You turned to look at Josh.

“Grapefruit juice, salted rim and vodka.” Jake’s nose scrunched as he grabbed a red solo cup and some ice. His hair was now towel dried and he was clad in his usual button down and favorite pants of the month.

“Ohh it’s not that bad!” Josh said, shooting daggers at Jake. “It’s the best screwdriver you’ll ever have Y/N!”

“I do like a good screwdriver.” You said, matter of factly, tapping your finger on your chin for dramatics.

Jake snorted as he poured some four roses whiskey into his cup, “Suit yourself Clover, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He popped the cork back into the bottle and gave you a wink.

Josh had already begun twisting the rim of a cup in a pile of salt not too far from you, humming softly to an old bluesy song that was playing that you couldn’t quite place.

“Here you go miss Y/N!” Josh shoved the red cup in your direction a few minutes later.

You took it cautiously and glanced between Jake and Josh, Jake who was already trying to hide his smirk and Josh who looked ever so hopeful.

“Damn I didn’t know this would acquire such an audience.” You said sarcastically.

“Hush up and just drink!” Josh said.

You brought the cup up to your nose and smelled it. You were immediately hit with the pungent scent of vodka and the sourness of grapefruit. You lifted your eyebrow as you took a sip and immediately puckered. “Oh god.”

Jake let out a booming laugh and Josh looked wounded.

“That's,” you took another sip. “No.” You handed the drink off to Josh who was clasping a hand over his heart.

“Told you so.” Jake snorted, stirring his drink with a black straw.

“Y/N, I am hurt.” Josh said dramatically.

“I’m sorry love but that’s just not my cup of tea.” You scrunched up your nose as you watched Josh take a big gulp.

“Suit yourself Clover!” Josh said, pointing a finger.

You immediately caught Jake’s glare towards his twin at the use of his nickname for you. “Watch it Josh.”

Josh just shrugged and winked at Jake, suddenly getting distracted from the sound of boisterous yelling across the room.

You busied yourself making a concoction of your favorite drink from your options in front of you. Once you were happy with your mix, you stood next to Jake and watched the antics across the room unfold which consisted of a few golf balls and a red solo cup.

“So,” you smirked at Jake over the lip of your cup. “When exactly were you going to tell me about this new band?”

“Ahh,” he smirked and gave you a side eye. “Was trying to keep it under wraps as much as possible but I see someone let their tongue slip.” He took another generous sip of his drink.

You snorted, “Kinda hard to do that when you boys all have megaphones for mouths.”

“Hey!” He bumped you with his elbow. “That's awfully rude Clover.”

“Alright!” Danny clapped his hands together before you could respond. “Everyone grab a shot of tequila! Tonight calls for a major celebration for our dearest friend Jake and his new band!”

“I see I’ve found the culprit.” Jake shook his head but he didn’t seem displeased, he seemed shy. Which was shocking to you as he always seemed so confident in himself.

You hadn’t noticed but Rose had pre poured little tequila shooters in plastic cups and had a small cup of lime wedges sitting next to it. Once everyone had their respective shots, Danny raised his in the air and everyone followed suit.

“To our brother Jake! We are so proud of you for this new project coming to fruition. May this be a successful one for you!” Danny smiled wide. “To Mirador!”

“To Mirador!” Everyone followed suit.

September 7th.

Detroit, MI.

You awoke suddenly and you were met with the wall of the tour bus bunk a few inches in front of your face, the consistent pinging of your phone next to your head. Even though you could hear the air conditioning buzzing on the bus you were hot and uncomfortable. The sweat making your hair stick to the side of your neck and face. You were definitely hungover. You couldn’t believe you allowed yourself to indulge so much. You groaned as your phone pinged next to your head again. You rolled over, feeling instantly dizzy and squinted your eyes as your screen lit up the dark space.

You allowed yourself to let loose last night, that was for certain. It wasn’t too difficult after the first shot of tequila had hit your stomach and settled, you felt yourself actually relax for once. You weren’t doing your job last night, you were simply hanging out with some new friends and celebrating. By the time you had your 3rd shot of tequila and you were on your second mixed drink of the night you had been dancing with Josh to one of his favorite ABBA songs blaring on a little speaker across the room from where you were twirling away together. The more you drank, the more your eyes focused on Jake from across the room. Watching him smile and indulge in a rather obnoxious game of quarters with a few members from security and Danny. The more you drank the more insatiable you became for him.

You wanted to have him pressed up against you again. You began to wonder as Josh abandoned you for a drink refill and you were standing alone now against the wall, what would’ve happened if Sammy had not interrupted you earlier that evening. You wondered if Jake wanted you the same way you wanted him. In a way so bad you felt as if you would not be satisfied until you had him fully. The tequila was bringing out such a lustful and sinful side of you that you were not used to. As Jake caught your eye and winked at you from across the room with a smile tugging on his lips, you felt your body react in a way you hadn’t felt in such a long time for anyone else. In a way that you will definitely keep chasing, no matter what the consequences may be you decide. Josh came back along and bumped your shoulder, breaking your eye contact with Jake who just realized he had lost because he hadn’t been paying attention. Josh had a small shot of tequila and a lime in his outstretched hand to which you accepted with a wince. That ended up being shot number 4 for the night, and one of the last things you could remember.

As you lay in the bunk and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you realized you weren’t even sure how or when you had made it back on the tour bus in the first place. You groaned softly in agony as you felt your heart rate increase slightly at the fear of what had occurred after that final shot.

You finally acknowledged the messages on your phone in front of you, realizing you had been scrolling and reading, yet not comprehending the messages themselves. The group chat you had reluctantly been added to with the 4 gentlemen, Rose, and a few others had been the cause of your disturbance. Messages had been going back and forth about plans for a group brunch somewhere in downtown Detroit. You winced at the pain shooting through your skull. Why was everyone already wide awake and ready to go? Didn’t they drink as much as you? You were surprised as you focused on the time finally, seeing it was almost 10 am. This meant you at least got some decent sleep for once on the bus and you wished you didn’t have to drink to achieve such results.

Scrolling through the remainder of the messages on your Lock Screen, forgoing any responses in the group chat, you noticed you had one single text from Jake separate from the rest.

Jake K. 9:23 AM

Carpe diem Clover, I want you to come to brunch

You see underneath that text he had called you moments before the message was sent. The bus was pretty silent for this hour and you wondered where he and the rest of the group was. You smiled softly at your phone and typed on the little bar to pull up your keyboard to respond.

You 10:02 AM

What time is brunch? I have a wicked hangover and could use a shower…

You saw the little text bubble pop up almost immediately as Jake clearly jumped to respond to you.

Jake K. 10:02 AM

SHE LIVES! I’m not surprised you were pretty drunk yesterday

Brunch is at 11. Hurry up and get off the bus, there’s some people I want you to meet today.

You 10:03 AM

Oh no..did I do anything embarrassing?

Jake K. 10:04 AM

You tried to kiss me a few times when I was trying to get you into your bunk and you wouldn’t let me leave you for a little bit

You winced, of course..smooth Y/N

You 10:06 AM

Oh my god I’m so sorry…

Jake K. 10:06 AM

Don’t sweat it Clover, it was cute. 😉

Hurry up and get off the bus already!

You 10:07 AM

Yes sir 🫡

You pulled the curtain back on your bunk and winced at the daylight, the smell of diesel suffocating your nose. You really needed some fresh air as the nausea settled in your stomach. You hopped down from your bunk, having to steady yourself across the hallway and then pulling your favorite hoodie on.

Your phone lay on the bunk mattress and you heard it chime and blushed wildly at Jake’s response.

Jake K. 10:13 AM

Careful Clover..

***

It didn’t take you too long to get ready. A nice cold shower and a few Tylenol and you had begun to feel somewhat like a human being again. You threw on your favorite comfy clothing, figuring for once you didn’t care too much about your appearance, and made your way down the elevator to the lobby. You were excited for breakfast, hoping that the boys had picked a good spot, a cheap place at least. You loved the mom and pop diners in your hometown and you had missed visiting them dearly.

The elevator chimed and you walked out into the lobby, hearing your name called by Jake from across the way almost instantly. He was standing with a group of people waving you over with a beaming smile, his sunglasses resting against his nose. Some of these people you recognized, some you did not.

“Y/N, this is my mother.” He gestured to the left of him with a smile as you approached. “Mom, this is my Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Mrs. Kiszka.” You extended your hand to shake hers with a soft smile.

“Oh nonsense come here,” She wrapped you up in a loving embrace. “It's so nice to finally meet you, I have heard so much about you.” She pulls away from the hug, still gripping your shoulders softly and glances over at Jake with a smile.

“Mom!” Jake exasperated through gritted teeth. You blushed and gave Jake a teasing look seeing that his cheeks were the same red hue.

Mrs.Kiszka ignored him and still held heavy eye contact with you, “Will you be joining us Y/N?”

You tore your eyes away from Jake who was nervously combing his fingers through his hair and looked back at his mother, “I am yes.” You gave her a soft smile.

“Oh wonderful!,” she clapped. “Do we have everyone? Should we head out?”

She stepped away from you briefly and you smirked at Jake next to you who was sporting the sweetest pink hue across his cheeks.

***

Your fingertips traced the edge of the white cloth napkin as it sat on your lap, an anxious tick for you in uncomfortable situations. This place was expensive. You took one look at the menu and you felt the air escape your lungs. How they were about to charge people $21 for a single piece of toast, a quarter of an avocado and some olive oil drizzled was beyond you. It wasn't that your job didn’t pay you well but you felt like since you started living on your own you were more cautious than others when it came to spending money.

So what the hell were you going to eat?

Loud, joyous laughs rang next to you coming from the people sitting at your table, as well as Josh’s booming voice clearly telling an animated story. His story died down a moment or two later and the fingertips that were tracing the edge of the linen cloth were now nervously picking at the ends of your hair as your eyes frantically scanned the menu in front of you searching for the cheapest item as you heard voices around you say they were ready to order.

“What are you thinking Clover?” Jake said softly. You glanced up and saw him giving you a hopeful look, flipping his menu over to hand to his mother next to him.

“Oh uh,” your eyes quickly scanned the Sides section. “Probably just a fruit cup.”

“A fruit cup? That’s all?” Jake’s eyebrows raised as he rested his chin on his hands in front of you. “You feeling okay?” One of his hands reached across the table and rested softly on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“Yeah i-uhm…everything’s kind of, it’s just expensive.” You felt the shame settle in the bottom of your stomach. You tried to speak softly so as to not draw unnecessary attention to yourself.

Jake looked puzzled for a moment and before he could open his mouth, Mrs.Kiszka reached across the table and patted the spot in front of you. “Honey, we’re all like family around here, don’t worry about anything we will take care of it. Enjoy a nice breakfast.”

Family.

Family was a touchy subject for you. Your mother hasn’t been around since you were 6, abandoning you and your father for a “better life” with another man. While you had repaired most of your relationship with your father that had been destroyed by your teenage rebellion of not having a strong woman figure in your life, you two didn’t end on the best terms before you moved to Nashville to pursue your dreams. Your father wanted you to pursue “something great”, something similar to what he did. Something that he felt he could brag about to his friends like a doctor or even an engineer. You had seen the disappointment in his eyes when you told him you wanted to be a part of the music scene and not get a PhD.

Mrs. Kiszkas hand withdrew as the waiter came up to the opposite end of the table and started scribbling orders down, going around making eye contact with each person and chatting, sharing smiles or small laughs. The world felt like it was moving in slow motion as you realized the waiter was about to ask the security guard sitting next to you what he wanted to eat. You felt out of place. You felt wrong. You shouldn’t be here…

As the tears began to well in your eyes you stood promptly from the table, grabbing your small purse off of the back of the chair. You needed a moment.

“Clover?” Jake's concerned voice was but a distant sound behind you as you made eye contact with the restroom sign across the restaurant. The shortness of breath followed suit and the tightening of your throat snapped as you pushed the heavy door open and locked it behind you, slightly thankful this was a single person bathroom.

You let your tears fall for a brief moment. You were never good at expressing your emotions around others, always wearing a smile and pretending everything was okay even when your world could have been crumbling. You were always told growing up how awesome it was that you were so resilient in tough situations. Yet really you just masked your emotions and dealt with them in the safety of your room where no one could see what was going on. That's why you ran from that table, suddenly overwhelmed and jealous that the boys had such a loving and supportive family. Such a loving and clearly supportive mother. Something you’ve wanted since the day you turned 16…

You heard a soft knock sound against the door, “Clover?”

Fuck.

You started to run the water and splashed a little bit against your cheeks, trying to wipe away the heat that had settled into your skin and the tears that had been streaking down your soft skin. You turned it off abruptly and made it a point to run the hand dryer before taking a deep breath, then another and then another. As always, it was easy to push the strong sadness that you felt in your heart down, faking a smile in the mirror before turning back to the solid oak wood door.

There he was. Standing against the wall scrolling on his phone, one leg propped against the wall keeping him steady. His eyes snapped up as he heard the door creak open and you could see the sadness as it settled into his eyes. You hated that. You hated seeing other people’s pity for you. You didn’t need it, you didn’t want it. You had spent your whole childhood and teenage years practically alone and you learned quickly to not accept love or care so willingly because they will probably leave you when things get hard.

You stood still as a statue for a moment as you fought against that tightening in your throat once again. Jake locked his phone and pushed off the wall towards you, “Y/N, what’s wrong?” He brushed a piece of hair away from your face, his fingers not gliding as easily as they normally did due to the dampness of your cheeks.

“Uhm,” you looked down. “Nothing, I’m fine I just really had to use the bathroom?”

Great, that didn't sound convincing and gross?

“Clover,” Jake sounded sad. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Jake I really-“

Your sentence was cut off by the loud ring of your phone in your right hand. You glanced at the screen to see one of the sound techs name calling you. You held it up to Jake so he could see and held up your finger. He nodded and stepped out of your way so you could walk by him.

“Hello?” You pressed a finger into your opposite ear and began to walk down the hallway towards the exit door, the restaurant too loud to focus on talking to someone on the phone.

“Miss Y/N? I’m sorry to bug you but we’re missing a few of Jake’s guitars. Do you have any clue where they are?”

“You’re missing guitars?! How the hell did that happen!” You looked back at Jake and saw a fire ignite in his eyes.

“I have no idea, we’re missing the B stage acoustics!”

“Not to sound condescending but did you check all the crates?”

Jake made a motion at you to put the phone on speaker, nostrils slightly flared.

“Yes ma'am, of course.” The tech’s voice sounded through your phone speakers out loud.

“We will be down there in a few minutes.” Jake spoke for you, his voice pointed.

“Oh, okay, yes see you soon,” the tech was clearly nervous as he realized it was Jake. “I’m really sorry Jake I-.”

Jake had already been storming away from you back down the hallways towards the table.

“It’s okay, we will get this figured out,” you said softly trying to calm the tech down. “We will be there in about 20 to help.”

You ended the call promptly and began walking back towards the table following the same path Jake had taken.

Jake, who you had never seen properly pissed before, was gripping the back of the chair so tightly it looked like the skin was going to rip against his knuckles. “I don’t fuckin know Josh, she just got the call, we’re about to leave.”

“Hey, excuse me,” Mrs. Kiszka spoke up. “Don’t go taking it out on him, it's not his fault.”

Jake just rolled his eyes before looking back at you and suddenly everyone’s eyes were focused on you, an uncomfortable silence hung in the air after Jake’s apparent outburst.

You smiled softly trying to diffuse the tension, “Sorry everyone, we’re about to head to the venue now to figure out what’s going on and find these guitars.”

“No worries honey, I hope you can find them.” Mrs.Kiszkas soft voice and smile was all you could focus on.

“Cmon Clover, before I have a fuckin aneurysm” Jake’s hand pressed against your lower back and began to lead you away from the table. The only thing you could focus on was his strong fingertips against your hip as you exited the building.

***

The crisis has been resolved fairly quickly. After some diligent searching by yourself, Jake and a few other techs you had found th3 acoustics. One of the newer techs had placed Jake’s beloved acoustics on one of the team's tour buses instead of in their normal crates. You had taken a seat on a couch in one of the green rooms, typing away at a few emails listening to Jake rip the tech a new one in the hallway nearby. You were momentarily wincing softly at the tone of his strong voice feeling pity for the tech who was on the receiving end of his rage. You hated conflict. It made your anxiety rise and you tended to avoid situations of conflict at all costs, hence you tucking yourself away once Jake found the tech responsible for the negligence of his beloved guitars.

The harsh voice faded away and you watched out of the corner of your eye as Jake carried two black guitar cases into the greenroom shaking his head softly. “Sorry you had to hear that Clover”

“No no,” you waved him off. “I understand. I know how much those guitars mean to you.”

You watched as Jake unlatched one of the cases and picked it up before focusing back on your computer screen as the chime came through that one of your emails had been replied to.

“So Clover,” Jake began to walk across the room towards you, settling a single leg on the coffee table in front you and propping the guitar against his thigh. “Are you going to tell me why you ran away from breakfast earlier?”

You winced slightly. You hated, abhorred talking about your feelings to others. You hated bringing up your family trauma. Others before Jake had ruined that for you. Eventually using the information against you, to hurt you in times of tension, or hearing one sad story about your childhood and deciding that the baggage wasn’t for them. Your fingers stopped typing for a moment, “it’s nothing you need to worry about I promise.”

Jake’s fingers now stopped the soft tuning of his acoustic as he looked at you, “Cmon Clover, I know that’s not true.”

Your mouth opened to speak but you were interrupted by a soft knock against the door frame. “Hey!” The boys' manager Nick stood in the doorway. “I see the guitars were found?”

“Yes they were.” Jake rubbed the side of his nose and removed his leg from the coffee table.

“Sorry about that Jake, didn’t mean to disrupt your breakfast this morning.”

Jake waved him off and placed the acoustic back in its case.

“I was actually wondering if I could speak to you for a moment? It's regarding Mirador.” Paul said, crossing his arms and flashing a bright smile.

“Yeah, for sure man!” Jake’s eyes lightened up. “I’ll be right back Y/N. Don’t let those guitars out of your sight.”

You saluted the man as he walked across the room towards Paul and giggled softly to yourself. You focused back on the computer screen in front of you, sipping a drink that the venue had graciously provided even though you were here a day early before the show.

You took a brief moment to stretch your arms and your neck and your eyes focused on the black acoustic sitting so perfectly in the opened guitar case. You fought against a little voice in your head encouraging you to pick it up. It had been so long since you held a guitar, let alone tried to play it. But there was an itch in your muscles. Acoustic guitars felt like home to you. And fuck did you miss home right now.

You gave into the little voice in your head, hoping that whatever impromptu meeting Paul had pulled Jake for would last a little while as you told yourself you were just going to tune it and then place it back in its case like nothing happened. Your body had carried you so easily across the room and you looked down at the shiny black surface and smiled to yourself. You were flooded with warm, happy memories from your childhood, throwing a blanket over the tough ones that riddled your mind from earlier. You were transported back to your childhood room, your zoo animal wallpaper and your father, sitting on a small stool teaching you about tuning a guitar before playing the most beautiful melodies to ease your troubled mind to sleep.

Your throat tightened once again as you lifted the guitar from its case and walked back across the room, settling yourself on the black couch. You took a deep breath, willing the anxiety and frustration away from earlier as you strummed all the strings softly.

Slightly out of tune, but not terrible.

You closed your eyes and softly began to strum each individual string, fingers dancing across each separate knob twisting and turning until you hit that perfect note you had been looking for. You smiled softly to yourself as you found each string had finally been to your liking.

“What’s this all about, huh?” Jake startled you, a sneaky grin about his blush lips as he re entered the room. His eyes are narrowed in on his acoustic held carefully in your hands.

“Jake! I-Im so sorry!” You panicked for a moment and your eyes grew wide. You half expected him to take it from you immediately and ridicule you for even laying a finger on his guitar, knowing good and well that you’re no musician. Yet, instead of reaching for the guitar tucked away in your arms, he sat on the coffee table in front of you and when you had begun to stand up from your spot, he held a hand up and shook his head.

“May I?” He smirked as he slowly reached for the neck from your fingers, playing a few chords once it was settled in his arms. His brows raise when he realizes how perfectly in tune his strings are.

He hummed as he looked at you, a sly grin still gracing his lips. “Clover,” he jests with a giggle, a full pink hue enveloping your cheeks at the nickname that you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to. “When were you going to tell me you could play?”

“Well,” you begin, trying to figure out the right way to articulate the fact that you most certainly cannot play this instrument. How do you explain that you can only tune these things, yet can’t play a single note? “I can’t exactly play it, but I am pretty damn great at making them sound good enough to play.”

He cocks left eyebrow in confusion at you, biting his bottom lip as his grin begins to widen. “Yeah? And how does one manage to learn that trade?” He began strumming the strings softly again.

That is a loaded question, you thought. One that comes with an even more loaded answer pertaining to your challenging emotions not too long ago at breakfast. You took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose as your heart squeezed in your chest at the thoughts that plagued your mind earlier came flooding back.

“You know you can talk to me Y/N. No judgment.” The twinkle in his golden irises began giving you a sense of peace and comfort. Your heart was reluctant to share information but your brain seemed to insist.

“It’s…kind of a long one and it kind of has to do with what happened earlier,” you express, looking down at your feet.

He adjusts his seat, setting the guitar down next to him that he’d been softly playing. “I’ve got plenty of time,” he says, rolling up the sleeve of his black linen shirt to look at his watch. “Tell me all about it, Clove.”

With a deep sigh and not much of a spare thought, your loaded answer began to spill from your mouth. “My dad,” you say, swallowing down the lump that’s already started to form in your throat. No tears, Y/N. Not yet. “He taught me how to tune his guitar when I was little. He’s—well, he’s the reason I’m here, actually.”

His eyes became downturned in new found worry, as though he could sense the bittersweet memories that had begun to swirl in your mind. Memories of your life before Nashville, memories of your mom, your dad…

It’s been no easy feat getting to where you are today. The mountains you've had to climb, the people you’ve left behind— all for the sake of living out your dream of being part of the music industry.

And now that it’s become a reality, now that you’re living in the Music City, home feels further and further away with each passing moment.

Your mom left a long time ago, opting to let your dad become your only guardian. And because of that, your relationship with your dad was the strongest one you’d ever had. And what you told Jake was true; he truly is the reason you’re here.

He supported you when no one else would. He encouraged your wildest dreams, gave you room to grow and spread your wings as best as he could with his single income.

Leaving him was one of the hardest things you’d ever done. As if leaving the person who loved you the most wasn’t difficult enough, you didn’t exactly leave on the best terms. He did support you, but once it registered with him that living out your dreams meant moving across the country, he had a hard time letting you go.

You left with a thousand words left unsaid between the two of you, yet too many said out of anger at the same time. You’ve hardly spoken to him since, fearful of what emotions reaching out to him would garner. A few texts here and there, a missed call or two from him that you just couldn’t answer.

You missed him. You missed him more than words could ever suffice. And going back home to visit just hasn’t been possible since you left. Finances, time– neither of which you have enough of.

You’d managed to keep busy enough that you hadn’t had the chance to let yourself feel the things you’d really needed to feel.

“It’s complicated, but he-“ You paused as the tears welled up in your eyes again. “He used to play for me every night before bed. My mom hasn’t been in the picture since I was little and this was his way of calming me down, helping soothe my night terrors..” You took a deep breath before you continued.

“He was always busy, trying to maintain a single father's single income household so he taught me how to tune the guitars by ear that sat in my room so that when it was time for him to play music before I went to sleep, he didn’t have to take the extra time to tune them..”

“When I told him I wanted to get into music though, that I wanted to learn how to play he got mad at me. He stopped playing for me, he took the guitars and hid them from me,” you sniffled but then giggled as the pain rose in your chest, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. “I will never forget the day I found one of the guitar cases in the basement and he grounded my ass for weeks and then removed them from the house completely.”

“Oh Clover..” Jake began to speak but you cut him off.

“You should’ve seen his face when I told him this is what I was doing and he couldn’t stop me. That I was going to move to Nashville and pursue a degree in music. He practically disowned me. Kicked me out of the fucking house he was so upset with me.”

Tears were now flowing freely down your cheeks and you watched as Jake lifted a few fingers to swipe them away.

“I went back a week later with my best friend at the time and packed up my shit into my little car and made for Nashville the same day. A lot of harsh words were exchanged between us, many I know we both regret. I went to Nash without a plan and made something of myself but never fully patched things up with my father. And unfortunately,” you paused a moment and sighed as Jake swiped another free falling tear off of your cheek. “I have not been able to get the funds to go home and see him yet. We talk every once in a while, yes but he sucks with technology. Literally repels it!” You giggle. “But fuck I miss him. I wish he could see all this..”

“Jesus Clover, I’m so sorry..” Jake stood up in front of you and practically picked you up into a hug, his hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped tightly around him.

You breathed in Jake’s cologne, feeling safe in his arms, “It’s alright I guess. I accomplished my dream and he and I have talked over the last couple of years and while I know he’s not pleased with me being in the music industry, he has expressed that he is proud of what I have made for myself back in Nashville. It just sucks because I haven’t been able to go home and see him.”

Jake pulled away and rested his hands against your cheeks, “Were going to change that Clover. Once this tour is over, once we have our next break, we’ll get the first flight possible and I will take you home. I promise.”

Tears began spilling down your cheeks, only this time instead of pain you felt happiness.

“Jake, are-are you sure?”

“Course I’m sure Clove. Anything to see you smile!”

You squealed in delight and wrapped your arms around Jake again as he laughed softly. Your impulse was running wild as you pulled back from the hug and wrapped your hand around the back of his head. His eyes grew wide for a moment before he felt your lips crash against his. His fingers tightened on your waist and your lips that had once been pressed roughly against his, adjusted slightly to make the kiss more soft, more grateful.

You pulled back a moment later, reminded of where you both were. “Shit, I’m sorry!” You giggled as you looked up at him.

He smiled back down at you and leaned forward, giving you a soft pack before pulling away again, “No apologies necessary Clover.”

“Hey, you ever listened to any of our music other than what you hear on stage?” He asks as you two separate from each other. He leaned down, picking up the guitar that he had laid next to him and sat back down on the coffee table. You watched as you mirrored his potion again on the couch as he balanced it on his lap. He began to softly retune a few of the strings to match the chord he was looking for.

“I’ll be honest, I haven’t had the chance.”

He hums softly as he plucks two of the strings and closes his eyes smiling at the tone he had achieved. “Clover is like to tell you about a song called Broken Bells. It reminds me of hope in the darkest of times and I think this would be a great song for you, as a reminder to remain hopeful even when you feel like there’s no hope left.”

You watch as he pulls a pick from his jeans pocket and balances it between his teeth. You watch in wonder as his fingers begin to slowly dance across the frets in front of you, the most beautiful melody ringing through the air. You envied him slightly that he could make such a beautiful sound from an instrument. Your heart leapt in your throat as Jake pulled the little black pick from between his lips and took a soft breath and began to sing softly,

“I can see the faces through the broken glass..”

September 10th.

Washington D.C.

You would think that a day off meant relaxing, catching up on sleep for the young musicians. Majority of the time you were lucky enough that was the case and your phone was pretty silent for most of the day and you had the opportunity to catch up on missed sleep or that book you've been reading. You had arrived at the hotel around midday in D.C. fully prepared for a warm shower and a comfortable bed as it had been another sleepless night for you on the bus.

You sighed as the bus came to a halt and you swung your backpack over your left shoulder. Thankfully you had been able to sneak off the bus before any of the guys took notice. They had been arguing over who knows what in the open space above you in the upper deck of the bus. You had immediately avoided the space as you felt a migraine coming on from your lack of slumber.

You were on auto pilot mode as you strolled through the hotel lobby and quickly checked into your room, thankful that Rose had booked you a room of your own for once and also grateful that she had let you sneak ahead of everyone else knowing how exhausted you were. As you stepped under the hot water in the white walled shower, you took your time combing the conditioner through your hair, exfoliating and shaving every inch of your body. Your body moved in slow motion when you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a white fluffy towel. You silently pouted to yourself as you grabbed your bottle of lotion, wanting nothing more than to go lay down but refusing to half ass your shower routine when you felt like you rarely had the time to complete it.

The very moment your head hit the white pillow you felt your body relax fully and succumb to sleep.

***

You didn't know what time it was or where you even were for a moment. All you knew is it was dark and you were very cold. You groaned softly as you rolled over and grabbed your phone off of the nightstand next to the bed.

Jake K. 12:23 AM

Hey, you alive over there Clover?

You turned over in bed again, sitting up a bit. You were happy you got some much needed rest but you were now wide awake of course, and hungry. You pulled up the keyboard on your phone to respond to Jake.

You 1:34 AM

Possibly.

Jake K. 1:35 AM

Well that's good to hear. Get some much needed rest I presume?

Oh, he's still awake..

You 1:37 AM

Oh no I've just been sitting in my room staring at the wall for the last 12 hours or so

Jake K. 1:37 AM

Watch the attitude Clover…

You 1:40 AM

Or what..

Why are you awake anyways?

Jake K. 1:46 AM

Inspiration struck me as I was out on the town an hour or so ago

You 1:50 AM

Anything good?

You laid back in bed, smiling softly at your phone awaiting that little text bubble to pop up on your screen.

A soft knock sounded at your door a few minutes later, so faint that you almost thought your brain could be playing tricks on you. You crept over to the door and looked through the peephole, seeing Jake’s face scanning the hallway behind him. Your heart sped up in anticipation. What the fuck was he doing here.

You cracked open the door, and peaked around the side of it. “Jake?” You whispered.

“Hey Clover,” he whispered back, smirk tugging at the side of his mouth. “Can I come in?”

Your heart said yes but your head screamed no. Yet the devil on your shoulder won the almost nonexistent battle as you stepped to the side and gleefully watched him waltz into your hotel room at 2 am. This was not going to end well, this went against everything you’ve been avoiding for the last couple of weeks.

Jake stopped by the door and smirked at you as you slowly closed it shut and latched the deadbolt, clearly reading the conflict written all over your face.

“What’sa matter Clove?”

Oh he was slurring a bit. Your eyes snapped to his face and you could clearly see the droopy, red shot eyes and the smirk he couldn’t wipe off his face. Of course he smoked.

You crossed your arms against your chest, your own protection mechanism. “Just wondering what you’re doing here so late is all.”

“I wanted to see you.” He whispered as he tucked a few pieces of hair behind your ear. You felt like butter on a hot summer's day left out in the sun, you were absolutely done for.

“Oh,” you squeaked out. “Why?”

“Does there really need to be a reason why?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“There’s always a why..”

“Let’s not worry about that right now, yeah?” He asked, grabbing your hand softly and leading you further into your own room. Your sanctuary that he was currently disturbing. “I just wanted to see you, talk to you in person instead of texting. Plain and simple.”

He sat down on the plush couch that the luxury hotel offered in each room, gesturing you to do the same. Your arms had recrossed as you watched him get comfortable.

Kick him out Y/N…

“You uh, would you like something to drink?”

Okay, that’s not…

He smiled up at you, teeth showing ever so slightly between his soft pink lips. “I’d love to have something, yeah. Whatcha got?”

“Not too sure, I didn't really check out the room earlier.” You walked over to the mini fridge tucked away in the corner, very aware that his gaze had not left your body since the moment he stepped into the room. You leaned down and opened the door, “Well, I don’t have anything exciting really. Just water, sparkling water, and it looks like ginger ale.”

“Sparkling water if you don’t mind.”

You grabbed a bottle for him and regular water for yourself and walked back across the room. You handed him the bottle which he took and popped the cap on immediately and took a long sip, eyes never leaving your face as you made the move to sit down opposite him. “Hmm-mm!” He shook his head and his eyebrows furrowed as he pulled the bottle away from his lips. “No, c’mere.”

He patted his right thigh.

“Huh?” He caught you off guard.

“Sit on my lap Y/N,” His legs spread ever so slightly. “I wanna be close to you.”

Damn him and your heart for following his orders so easily.

“Jake I-,” There goes the so-called angel on your shoulder.

He lifted his eyebrows at you. “What Y/N?”

“You-you’re intoxicated aren’t you?” You still stood in front of him, arms crossed against your chest.

He took another swig of the water, you watched closely as his pink lips made contact with the bottle and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Just a little high is all Clover. I’m perfectly aware of what is going on if that’s what you’re so concerned about.” He smirked at you, itching the side of his nose and then spread himself out a little further on the couch. His arm resting on the pillows next to him and opening his legs in your direction, that smirk growing as he watched your eyes trail down to his crotch. Your cheeks went aflame as you realized you were caught once again.

He was so devastatingly good looking. You could feel your body pulling yourself closer to him. Needing to be closer to him. There was that devil on your shoulder…

Before you fully comprehended what was happening, your legs approached Jake for you. He smirked up at you as his arms welcomed you. You sat as softly as you could on top of his thigh that was pressing up against the arm of the couch. His hand and arm snaked under both of your legs, propping you up against him on the couch.

“Hmm, much, much better.” A soft British accent poured from his mouth, soft and saccharine.

Your arm snaked around his shoulders to help balance yourself as he had one arm across your back and, to your demise, one hand propped up against your knee already softly grazing the skin there.

“Talk to me little Clover,” his mouth was so close to your skin. “How was your day today?”

There go his fingers, you thought as they lightly started grazing the inside of your knee.

“Oh, uhm..it was good, you know I caught up on a lot of sleep, so.”

“Yeah I know, but do you feel like you’re settling in well?”

Lower, and softer his fingers went across your inner thigh now. His other hand pulling up your sleep shirt to reach the skin, oh…

“Yeah!” You squeaked. “Everyone is so, uhm, nice.”

“Hmm,” his eyes lingered down from your face to your cleavage.

You couldn’t help yourself anymore, you felt like you were going to explode. “Jake.” You practically moaned out as his fingers dipped along the hem of your sleep shorts again. When exactly he had moved that low again, you hadn’t a clue.

“Yes Y/N?”

Fuck it.

“Kiss me.”

“I thought you'd never ask.” He smirked.

His arm that was holding onto your waist snaked up to the back of your neck and pulled your head closer to his as he smashed his lips against yours. You moaned against his lips ever so softly. You missed the feeling of how soft and prominent his bottom lip was compared to the top, you missed the feeling of his teeth chasing your lips giving you soft nibbles and God fuck did you miss the drag of his warm tongue against your own.

His hand that was grazing your inner thigh moved up and grabbed across your ribcage to your dismay, but the slight tinge of pain as he grabbed at you with his hands was welcomed. Your hand snaked up across his neck and grabbed into his hair, how badly you wanted to do this he really hadn’t a clue.

Neither of you made the move to come up for air as the kiss between the two of you became wet and sloppy, the sounds of lips smacking against each other filling the hotel room. You felt Jake smirk against your lips before he slowly began to slow down the kiss to pecks between you to then pulling away.

“Clover, you have no idea what the fuck you do to me.” His voice came out husky and soft, his eyelids still half open and the softest grin on his now almost red, wet lips.

“Show me.” You said, confidently. All inhibitions out the window.

“Oh Y/N,” he whispered as he tilted your head slightly away from him. He placed the softest kiss against that sweet spot where your ear met your jaw. You gasped as he began trailing down the side of your throat. “Jake,” you started, almost breathless as his lips trailed up along your neck and then back up to that sweet spot below your ear.

“Shhh..”

“Is this a good idea?” Your mind suddenly panics.

He pulled back, the expression in his eyes unreadable. “Nothing involving me is ever a good idea Clover.”

You watched as he licked both of his lips trying to read you, his fingertips tracing a light circle along the inside of your thigh that was propped up against him. “We can stop.”

The logic in your head screamed yes, but your weeping core protested. You both stared at each other for a moment, you could tell he was trying to get a read on you. You focused on the furrow in his forehead, the curve of his nose, the soft trail of hair regrowing on his upper lip and then the shape of those soft lips you wish would never part from yours. Fuck it, you thought again.

“Jake I-.”

“Yes Clover?”

“I want you.” Your eyes snapped to his finally, holding his gaze.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded your head softly and bit your lip. His finger quickly moved to pull your bottom lip from its hold between your teeth. “I need to hear you say it again. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want you Jake,” you paused, feeling shy. “I want you to fuck me.”

Jake smirked and gripped onto your hips, moving you so you were now strangling his lap and looking down at him. Your eyes grew wide as you realized he was already rock hard, pressing against your core.

He kissed you softly. One peck turned into two which then turned into your original pace of clashing teeth and smacking lips.

You felt his fingertips begin to drag up underneath your sleep shirt, grazing your ribs softly as you moaned into his mouth.

“Dont stop making those sweet sounds for me baby.”

Your sleep shirt was gently pulled off your body and thrown behind you. “Oh Jesus,” Jake paused to stare at your tits, perfectly sitting against your chest. “Can I?” He gestured to them, eyes snapping across your face looking for any hesitation in your features.

“All yours Jake.” You smirked at him.

“Fuck..” he moaned. You felt as his lips circled perfectly around one of your nipples, his tongue flicking against the hard bud as his hands roughly squeezed them together.

The feeling alone caused the hair on the back of your neck to stand at attention. You moaned softly and ran your fingers through his hair, scratching against his scalp softly as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention as the last.

A slight nip caused you to hiss, then softly turn into a moan as he soothed the pain with his tongue again. His soft brown and bloodshot eyes snapped up to your face and he began to pull away.

“How’s that my Clover?” His fingertips kneaded both of your nipples at once, before pulling them roughly causing another gasping moan to come out of your mouth and your head to tip back slightly.

“Hmm, thought so..”

His head dipped again to reconnect with your breasts when you pulled on his hair softly to stop him, his eyebrows furrowing at your action.

“What's wrong?”

“More Jake..”

You grabbed one of his hands confidently and guided him back to the waistband of your sleep shorts, “Please.”

He smirked at you, a condescending grin spreading across his face, “Someone’s needy.”

Your skin felt like it was on fire as he re-traced his way across your waistband, dipping his fingertips underneath the elastic band and lower against the mound of your pelvis.

He giggled softly, “Don’t think for a second Clover that you are in charge, you just happen to be lucky enough that I feel just as needy for you right now.”

His voice was gravely and the hair on your arms stood at attention as the feeling of his fingertips dipped between your folds cautiously.

“Oh fuuck Y/N,” he moaned, fingers dipping lower through your wetness as he eyes followed where his hand was hidden away. “You’re so fucking wet.”

You leaned your forehead against his, “All your fault.”

Your head tipped back suddenly as you felt his fingertips circle against that soft spot you loved on your clit and then quickly dipped down to your entrance, sliding two fingers into you easily. The stretch of his fingers felt like heaven. You became immediately addicted to the feeling of Jake stretching you out. You were convinced for a moment as his fingers curled slightly that you would be satisfied like this for the night. His fingertips curled with more purpose as the breath was stolen from your lungs, the delicious pressure against that hidden spot tucked away inside of you.

He clearly had other ideas as he flipped you over on the couch quickly. You let out a breathless laugh as you felt him rip your sleep shirt away from your body. Your chest was left balancing against the arm of the couch as you listened to the soft clink of his belt coming loose and his own shirt and pants were ripped away from his body.

“Oh my fuckin God Y/N. You look fucking perfect like this for me.” He moaned. You could feel his fingers drag slowly up your spine and across the back of your neck. You whimper as he twists his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulls your head up roughly. You gasp and clench around nothing at the sensation as you feel his lips graze your ear, “This never happened, got it?”

You didn’t have the time nor the mental capacity to understand what his words had really meant in the moment, you were blinded by pure lust.

You did your best to twist your head to the side and you flashed him an almost evil smile, “Yes Sir.”

He was fucked.

He knew in that moment there was no forgetting this moment like he had originally planned. He knew deep down he would crave your body more and more each day he didn’t get to touch you like this. You were now the most addicting drug on the planet.

As he dragged himself against your wetness already on the brink of ecstasy, fingers still bound tightly in your hair, he knew there wouldn't be any turning back. The gasping moan that came out of your plush, sweet mouth signed and sealed his fate in a matter of a second as he began to push himself inside of you.

Your brain felt like fuzz as you felt him stretch you out slowly. The goosebumps that raised across your skin, and the tingling feeling in your core as you felt him push all the way inside of you was unlike anything you had experienced before. Maybe you would blame the gummy you had consumed prior to him coming over unbeknownst to him. Maybe you will blame the fact that it was simply just Jake. You wished so badly you could see his face as you heard him softly whimper behind you as he pushed himself as far as he could reach inside of you, applying the most delicious pressure against your cervix.

His mouth dropped down against your ear once more, “Holy fuck Clover. You feel like fucking heaven.”

You were putty in his hands at this point. As he pulled himself out and pushed back in cautiously, the feeling of him filling you up made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Oh fuck..” You moaned.

“Oh Jesus.”

He pulled out and roughly slammed himself back into you again, eliciting a loud whimper from you. “Oh god Jake.”

“Shh little Clover, hush now.” He said softly against your ear before pushing you against the arm of the couch. While he hadn’t moved much just yet, you already knew this position was about to push you over the edge quicker than either of you had expected. His hand that had roughly grabbed your hair now released and the pressure against your scalp diminished. The pain turned into soft pleasure fast as you felt him softly push your hair to the side so he could see your face. “Try and stay quiet baby.”

You nodded as he pulled out and slammed back into you, your eyes going wide as you realized just how deep he truly was.

He dragged in an out of you over and over and over again. He wasn’t gentle about it either. His full strokes made you feel like you were empty and full simultaneously.

“Oh fuck Y/N, your pussy is-..ahhh fuck.”

Oh, so he was a talker.

All you could focus on was the feeling of him hitting your cervix, the delicious drag of him against your walls, the feeling of his fingertips flexing against your hips pulling you back against him and the sound of his necklaces hitting his chest in time with his thrusts.

His pace sped up for a moment and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, “oh fuuuuhck Jake, yes yes please…”

A loud crack rang out against the walls of the hotel room and you felt the burning sting of his hand print on your ass.

“Fuck yes Clover, you look so fucking pretty like this. All wrapped around me so tight, fuck”

You glanced back at him as best as you could from your position and immediately wished you hadn’t. He was focused on watching himself fuck you roughly, his eyebrows tipped up, his lips in the softest O shape. Almost as if he couldn’t believe it was happening. You clenched around him at the sight and his nose wrinkled on the side. A few pieces of his hair were now sticking to the side of his face.

His eyes snapped up to your face, the sight of pure lust in his eyes was unfathomable. He pulled out suddenly and you whimpered at the sensation of feeling empty.

“C'mere baby,” Jake pulled you up by your torso and promptly flipped you around on your back. “I want to see your face when we cum together.”

Oh…

“Jake please..”

His eyes focused back down onto your core as he dragged himself along you. The second his pushed past the threshold of your entrance his lidded eyes snapped back to your face.

This angle sure was different, you immediately felt an even more pleasurable pressure dragging against your walls.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a moan. Your eyes opening briefly as Jake’s hips began to snap against yours once more. The sight of his torso snapping against yours, the feeling of his finger tips gripping against your upper thighs. The fucking sound of his necklaces slamming back and forth against his chest. Not to mention the fucking expression on his face again. This same eyebrows furrowed again and the softest pout in his lips. You watched as he scrunched his nose again and again as he thrusted harder, faster, deeper.

“Oh god dammit Jake!” You squeaked, your hands moving down to hold onto his thighs.

He was hitting that hidden spot tucked away so secretly inside of you, you forgot it had even existed. He thrusted with such force that you could feel your body start to lose control and your legs begin to shake.

“Oh fuck Jake I think I’m gonna cum soon…”

His eyes snapped up to yours and he gave you the most evil looking smile. “Yeah Clover? You gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl? You gonna give it to me?”

“Yes, yes Jake yes.”

One of his hands released its grip on your thigh and trailed down to your clit, hard and waiting for some kind of stimulation. The second his thumb swiped against it briefly your back arched and you let out a long, breathless moan. His thumb only quickened its pace as soon as he felt you clench tightly around him.

“Oh god yes Y/N,” his thrusts had not given in. His sweat was now dripping down his face, his chest. Just like when he played on stage.

“I’m there Jake, oh fuck yes I’m right there..”

It started in your toes.

It expanded to strictly your core.

Then it traveled up throughout the rest of your body.

Your eyesight went dark and you just heard ringing in your ears as the most intense orgasm ripped its way through your body.

“Oh my god Y/N, yesss. You’re clenching me so tight. Please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop baby. I’m right here with you.”

You could barely hear the praise from Jake over the ringing in your own ears. You felt your core try its hardest to clench around him but struggled due to his size.

His thrusts became sloppy and slowed down and the most beautiful moan slipped past his lips. You hadn’t yet fully come down as he ripped himself from you and threw his head back with pleasure as you felt him release across your stomach.

It took you both a moment to catch your breath. Your eyes finally met and you both smiled at each other, one huffing a laugh and the other giggling softly.

“Holy shit.” You said.

“Yeah, holy shit indeed Clover.”

Jake leaned down and pressed a soft peck to your lips that you graciously reciprocated.

“Hang tight darling, let me get something to clean you up.”

You watched as Jake stepped back into his boxers, forgoing the sweatpants he had originally brought and walked away towards the bathroom. He made it back over to you pretty quickly and knelt down next to you. “Sorry about the mess.” He huffed a laugh as he dragged the warm washcloth against his release on your stomach..

You laughed out loud, “Jake! Oh my god!”

“What!” He winked playfully at you.

“Shut up!”

“Awfully rude to say to someone who’s taking care of you.” He threw the rag on the opposite side of the room and kissed your temple.

“Cmon Y/N,” he reached out his hand. “Come lay down with me.”

You took his hand graciously and let him lead you to the side of the bed that was already slightly messed up due to your occupancy before he disturbed it. You laid down fully and allowed him to tuck you into the white bedding of the hotel bed. He placed a kiss softly on your forehead and leaned over to switch off the lamp next to you.

You were engulfed in the dark, minus the little light from one of the plugs across the room.

“Wait! Jakey..” You sat up as you heard him walk across the room.

“What's wrong Clover?”

“Please,” you said softly. “Please don’t leave me.”

You felt the sheets pull back next to you and the bed dip with his weight. You laid back down against the pillow and waited for him to get adjusted.

“C'mere lovey.” Jake's soft voice cut through the silent room. You scooted over to his side of the bed and found his arms already played open for you, welcoming your body against his. He tucked you under his chin, the scent of his cologne radiating off of his sweaty skin. The feeling of his heartbeat against your nose.

“Get some sleep Clover, I don’t want you all crabby tomorrow.”

“Shut up Jake.” You both giggled.

September 11th

STARCATCHER

Washington D.C.

When you awoke in the morning, the sun was already peering through the curtains in the hotel room giving a soft glow to the walls around you. You stretched slightly and felt a slight ache in your muscles to which you grimaced.

You were reminded of last night's late events and you quickly turned over to find your bed empty.

Immediate disappointment radiated through your chest and your fear that something went wrong plagued your mind.

Of course he wouldn’t stay with you. Of course he couldn’t stay with you.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and turned over in search of your phone that was lost amongst the tangled sheets. It was show day, you had to make sure you weren’t running late. Sitting up in bed for a moment you immediately noticed the scent of Jake’s cologne now embedded onto your skin and in your hair. You took a moment to run your fingers through one side of your hair and subconsciously lifted a few strands to your nose and breathed in. The smoky amber and bergamot invading your senses.

You ran your hands along the sheets and along the edges of your pillows in search of your phone, which proved to be successful. You clicked your screen alive, 9:34 AM.

Shit. Shit! You were so late…

You scrambled out of bed and completed a half ass morning routine, grabbing a single granola bar on the way out of your hotel room door. You couldn’t focus on anything else, not even what had occurred between you and Jake as your hands shook trying to reach out to one of the runners to come get you and take you to the venue. You had never, ever been late getting to the venue the morning of a show and of course it was the night after you hooked up with the lead guitarist.

Arriving at the venue about 20 minutes later, you ran up to Rose immediately who looked slightly displeased with you and gathered her list of a few things to gather for the day. You had made your way to Jake’s dressing room, following the labeled songs from the team along the hallways and let out a soft breath as you pushed through the door.

You dropped your bag off on one of the chairs and made eye contact with Jake across the room, the tension and anxiety in your chest easing slightly as you acknowledged that you were with your comfort person.

“You snuck out this morning,” you smirked, a playful tone hinting in your voice.

“Uh, yeah,” Jake paused, his lips forming a tight line.“Listen, Y/N..”

Your heart dropped instantly in your chest at the tone of his voice and lack of nickname he used to frequently with you. This wasn’t good..

You felt your heart skip a beat, the sweat beginning to pour from your palms, the-..

“Hey Y/N?” Nick popped his head into the room, hand gripping the side of the door. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”

Your heart sank even further, this couldn’t be good. You had a keen sense for the tone of people’s voice, their body language, blame it on your past experiences I guess. And this was a double whammy.

“Uh, yeah sure.” You followed him closely, not a word spoken between the two of you as you followed him into an isolated room and he closed the door.

“Listen, these conversations are never easy,”

Your heart sped up as he crossed his arms and leaned against a table opposite from where you were standing. “Would you like to fill me in on what’s going on with Jake?”

For a moment you were confused, had he been acting differently? Was there something you were supposed to report back?

It finally clicked.

“What do you mean?” This couldn’t be true.

“What I mean is, someone has filled me in that Jake was leaving your hotel room at 5 am this morning. Care to elaborate?”

Fuck.

The room suddenly became a blur. You indeed, had been caught. Your mouth opened for a moment but you had no idea how to cover up what had happened, you knew your face turning beat red was giving you away by the second.

“Jake just needed something last minute he-..had called me and requested that I-..”

“You can save the excuses,” Nick held up a hand and you shut your mouth real quick. Your heartbeat is still loudly pounding in your ears. “I will only say this once. This is your first and final warning. If I or anyone else catches you with Jake alone past your normal hours without my knowledge either prior to or if you need to “assist him” late at night, I will be sending you on a plane home the very next day. Do we understand each other?”

Your head bowed. How could you have been so stupid to let yourself get caught. This could end your career that you had been working so hard on building.

“I understand.”

“Great,” Nick uncrossed his arms and walked towards the door holding it open for you. “I will be keeping a close eye Y/N.”

You exited the room and it felt like your world came crashing down on you all of a sudden. Your chest felt tight as you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself down. You couldn’t believe you had let things go as far as they did, you barely even knew Jake when you really thought about it. Why did you let it go this far…and he just, left? Was he thinking the same thing? Were you just some random hook up to him? You felt like you were just an easy target..

You turned the corner and made your way back to Jake’s dressing room, intent on grabbing your things and making haste to one of the runner so you could get the fuck out and do your job. You wanted to make yourself sparse from anyone, especially Jake who had clearly started to act weird towards you. You hated that the first thought in your head had been the realization that of course he would be acting weird after hooking up. That's probably all he wanted from you in the first place…You knew he was busy with his tech at the moment so he wouldn’t be in his greenroom right now. You definitely had the ability to sneak out for the day until you got close to soundcheck.

You dipped into the dressing room and closed the door behind you taking a moment to close your eyes and let out the breath you had been holding, head thudding against the back of the door. You were thankful for a moment of peace…

“Uh, can I help you?”

A voice rang out from across the room. Your eyes snapped open at the sound of a woman’s voice. You made eye contact with a short brunette sitting on a stool not far from where you were standing.

Who the hell..?

You had suddenly found your voice after a moment, “Who are you? Do you have a pass?”

The mystery woman snapped her gum out of clear annoyance and she pulled a pass card from her hip, “Clearly, who are you?”

“I’m Y/N, I’m Jake’s assistant.”

You watched as she looked you up and down, “Mmm.” She hummed and snapped her gum before turning her attention back to her phone. “Can you go find him for me? Hes been gone a little while and left me waiting for a bit.”

“Okay but who are-“

“Do you understand English?” Mystery bitch snapped. “Go. Find. Jake.”

You couldn’t handle this. Not after that conversation with Nick. You spun out the door quickly as you could after grabbing your backpack in the corner. You desperately needed a moment alone. And to hell with finding Jake you needed to steer clear of him at this point. You needed clarity and you needed to ground yourself just for a moment outside.

Your eyes started welling up with tears as your emotions began to overwhelm your system. You panicked a bit, you needed a moment of fucking peace. Unfortunately for you, Jake had spotted you from across the hall. He had been talking to Scott and while you two didn’t get a chance to finish your conversation from earlier, he gave you a curt smile. His expression quickly turned into a frown as he realized that you were upset and you realized he had abandoned his conversation and quickly began to walk towards you. “Y/N?”

Fuck. Get away from him. Get away now.

You turned a corner and then another corner and then another, hoping that Jake eventually wouldn't be able to see where you had dipped off so quickly. You could still hear him calling your name, trying to push past people and curtains and crates to get to you. His voice finally sounded like it had disappeared just as the first tear fell from your right eye and you unfortunately had slammed into someone.

“Woah!”

Sammy.

He gripped your shoulders to steady you and immediately you felt the tears begin to pour out of your eyes streaming down your cheeks at a rapid rate. “Y/N! What’s wrong?!”

“There’s a girl,” you try to swallow but nothing was going down. “In-in Jake’s dressing room, I don’t know who she is but she has a pass. I'm just confused because I haven’t seen her, but I don’t know. I think I’m just-..She just caught me off guard and I’m just feeling overwhelmed and the moment and I just needed some fresh air an-..”

“Woah slow down Y/N, what does she look like?” Sam’s fingers gripped your shoulders a little tighter.

“Long brown hair, pretty..”

“Oh shit,” He paused, the hands that were gripping your shoulders fell to his sides. “Jake’s girlfriend must be here…”

****************************************************

Taglist:

@anythingforjtk @jakesguitarsolo @do-it-jakey-baby @vanfleeter @violetstarcatcher @myownparadise96 @ignite-my-fire @gvfvanfleet @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavansara @edgingthedarkness @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @spark-my-nature @torniturntomyarrow @starshine-gvf @heckingfrick @hollyco

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know !

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fluff

82 notes · View notes