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redclercs · 1 year ago

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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

ix. i'm so sick of running as fast as i can

— the one where they painted you out to be bad (so it's okay that you're mad).

warnings: fair warning you're going to be pissed, foul language, this one has more media between text and it's a little long. 2.3k words (+articles and a very long youtube thing!!)

currently playing: it's time to go by taylor swift!

masterlist ✢ next

By Alana Blake

YOU read it here first, friends. #YNCHARLES is still going strong even after the mess y/n found herself in during the Spanish Grand Prix weekend.

Rumor had it that after y/n's declarations where she said 'it was not serious' and 'she was just having fun', the Monegasque heartthrob dumped her immediately. This was fueled by the fact that we didn't see any pictures of them together during such weekend.

But sources have come to the rescue, letting us all know they're not broken up! "They talk every day for hours," our source said, "Both are still trying to keep it fun but more lowkey after everyone found out about the cheating."

RELATED: Victoria Presley's top five beauty hacks.

You would think that after a partner refers to you as a 'toy', dumping them is the best course of action, but apparently that doesn't apply to Mr. Leclerc who has "nothing but good things to say about y/n".

"He's excited to see her in New York before the Canada Grand Prix, they have it all planned out since she has her apartment back." The source added.

One thing is for sure, if we see y/n at the next Grand Prix, that's the big confirmation that they are together, since they blew their Elix cover by forcing them to end the contract.

SEE ALSO:

→ Victoria Presley's inauguration after party at the Grand Havana Room, you just had to be there.

→ Taylor Swift defends y/n y/ln: ''All of you have learned nothing!"

→ Aidan Kim on Charles Leclerc: "Never heard of him until my girlfriend cheated on me"

𝙂𝙊𝙏 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙊 𝙎𝘼𝙔? 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒!

You're seeing the top comments.

Anonymous – 4 hr ago

They're both so shameless! and charles was liking tweets saying they were friends like he could really trick us.

kollhha – 3 hr ago

I hate her, Charles dump her ass for the love of god.

adriennewells – 40 min ago

no but seriously what is it about y/n that has men brainwashed?

Anonymous – 10 min ago

They WOULD be cute together, i don't think they're dating though.

June 10th, Los Angeles, California

You fit your life for the past months into two suitcases, and a carry on. Your room at Vic's house is messy and it feels strangely empty without your discarded shoes and dirty laundry on the floor. But it's time to go, you cannot impose your presence in this enormous house anymore. You have felt like an intruder since you started traveling to Formula 1 and coming back every week like this is your hotel and not your best friend's home.

"Are you really going back to New York?" Vic asks from behind you, voice low with sadness.

"Yes, Vic, I have to." you sigh, turning to meet her. She's dressed up in her fucsia workout gear, holding a light ring in her left hand and her phone in the right. Your flight leaves in the evening and you were hoping to have a meal with Vic before parting to the airport, but it looks like she's all booked.

"No you don't," she argues, entering the room. "Hollywood is here, y/n why do you need to go back to New York? You're an actress!"

You feel like a lot of things, except for an actress right now.

"I don't think Hollywood wants me right now, Vic," you say, going back to the unmade bed to lie down. You asked the cleaning lady if she could leave your room for last so you could finish picking your stuff up, and she agreed gently. "Plus, I really miss New York."

"y/n you haven't even visited my store, you can't go!" Vic's tone changes in octave, and it's not her whiny 'please don't do this' tone you're so used to. "I asked you for ONE favor and you're running to New York and you can't do even just that?"

"Woah, Vic, what the fuck?" you use your elbows as support to lean up and look at her. "Calm down. It's okay." you know her tantrum comes from the fact that she truly believes you could boost her beauty line sales and make her store a 'hot spot'. And it would work, for the wrong reasons. You don't want Vic being dragged down into this mess too. Mati and Charles are enough casualties.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Victoria is full-on yelling now, the light ring has been tossed aside. "I have given everything you've asked from me in the past months since your life started falling apart. I think I deserve something in return."

You ignore the bite of her words. She's angry, which is understandable to some level. She doesn't mean it, right? That she always expected something in return.

"Vic, listen, I know how important your store is to you. But I promise you, you don't want the attention I'm bringing to anyone close to me right now."

"Oh, so you're doing this for my own good now?" she scoffs, ponytail flying in the air as she turns around. "Are you fucking Charles Leclerc for his own good too? Or do men's reputations don't matter?" she spits.

You halt completely, halfway out of the mattress. "What did you say?"

"Oh, please y/n. You really want me to believe you don't want to be seen with me to 'protect me'" she throws the quotations in the air, "And yet you went on your pretty vacation with that bitch Matilde, and you talk to fucking Charles Leclerc every day!"

"Victoria, stop," your brain is a mix of anger, sadness and confusion. You’re having trouble catching up to the where the conversation is going. "That was different, Vic. In case you haven't noticed, things can't stop getting worse. My life is not good right now." You choke on the last words, because it's the first time you say such things out loud. You have never been more miserable.

Victoria scoffs yet again, and it’s a tear in your heart. She's really not backing off. "Of course your life isn't good y/n wah, wah. You have money and beauty and a pilot boyfriend, it sucks so much to be you!"

"Why are you so bothered about it? Why is Charles the main problem here?" you wipe the tears from your cheeks, scratching the skin with one of your rings. "Why the fuck are you acting like this?"

Everything was alright this morning at breakfast, when you reminded her you were leaving and your luggage was almost done. When you thanked her for taking you in and told her you could never really repay her support.

"Because you get everything you want all the time!" Victoria stomps to you, her face inches away when she stops. "You always get what you want no matter what. It didn't even matter that I said you view him as a fucking piece of meat! He still went after you."

The world moves in slow-motion as her words cascade on you. Your lungs close and your throat tightens again, and you want to fight the panic attack because you just know Victoria is not going to help you. How could she? If she's the one who betrayed you.

"How–Why–" you stutter, the hem of your shirt on your fist. You can fight this. "How could you do this to me?"

Victoria finally comes to the realization of what she let out, and covers her mouth. "y/n no– look–"

"Who told you about the ring?" your jaw is locked and you're trying not to lose focus. "How could you tell them about the ring?!"

"How could you not tell ME?! I'm your fucking best friend, you bitch!" she's raising her voice again, her surprise pushed aside because you're still fighting. "I had to find out through Aidan, months later."

The Cannes party. Of course.

You thought about asking her about it. Telling her it hurt you that she hung out so happily with Aidan when he was the reason you arrived at her house one night in February, frightened, sad, and confused. But you didn't because you trusted her. You would have trusted Victoria with your life at some point.

"It really is you, then," tears are streaming down your face again.

You feel stupid because only yesterday, in another rage-scroll through Twitter, you noticed people were already making theories about how it was Victoria who was selling information about you. And you felt so offended, how could they think your best friend would do that to you?

"How could you, Victoria? How could you make all that shit up?"

You talked to Victoria about the articles. You cried and told her you were sorry you didn’t let her in on the failed proposal, it was something you were still processing and couldn’t bring yourself to talk about, still wondering if it had been a mistake every now and then. You told her how sorry you felt to Charles because he just wanted to hang out with you—to be friends with you—and people marked him down as a home wrecker when he had nothing to do with it.

“It was definitely Mia though, wasn’t it?” She said as she rubbed your back and passed the box of tissues to you. “She always hated you, so weird. It was like she loved Aidan in a fucked up way.” Victoria even shuddered exaggeratedly, trying to make you laugh.

“Yeah I’m sure it was Mia, Aidan just won’t admit it.” You let her wipe your tears and smooth your hair down. Nobody could convince you that your ex-sister-in-law didn’t run to People and spewed shit. It was the most logical conclusion that Aidan was protecting his little sister.

This had been three days ago, she lied and made fun of you, to your face.

"So now I'm a liar? You are fucking Charles Leclerc! Or what, you expect me to believe all you do is hold hands and peck each other's cheeks?"

Again with Charles, it infuriates you.

"You told the press I'm a cheater! And I am NOT with Charles, God you're so stupid!"

"How would I know whether it's true or not? You never tell me anything anymore, do you? You don't care about me! I'm your best friend. I deserve to be your priority!"

"You deserve to rot in hell, you lying bitch." you don't even raise your voice anymore, "How could I ever love you?"

Victoria laughs, and your heart finally shatters. "I would do it again, y/n, because it's what you forced me to do."

The apartment is a mess, and you know it's on purpose. Your clothes are everywhere, the dirt from the plants you kept on the balcony is all over the floor, the coffee table is broken and your room looks like a hurricane passed through. Your coffee maker and your Specialty coffee both lie on the floor of the kitchen, and there is a horrible smell coming from the fridge. Aidan hasn't been gone long enough for things to rot to that extent, especially because every appliance is plugged in.

You don't want to look at the rest of the house, or your belongings. All you do is lean down to pick up your Moka pot, and make time to think, but you're unable to stand straight again. It's like the pain is pulling you down. How did your life become this?

A ruined apartment, a rejected engagement and a backstabbing best friend are things that happen in the movies. You would know. This wasn't supposed to happen to you.

Crying in that ruined kitchen, holding a Moka pot like it's your greatest treasure and not some piece of trash that you will never be able to use anymore, you get angry, furious. Because this is not your life and it was never supposed to be. And it's about time you start doing something about it.

You are sick of running. Of having people question you for not 'defending' yourself when you have no reason to be attacked in the first place. Relationships die, and yours had been past its time to be buried. Saying no is not a crime. And it never will be.

Victoria had burned her own thread with you in the worst way possible because you didn't make her the only person in your life. And you had overlooked every time you felt used by her, unloved, and tossed aside. Friends can break your heart too, and Victoria had ripped yours out of your chest.

Nobody has to tell you who you are, because you know. And you are nothing of what you've let tabloids, netizens and reporters say. You cannot keep running and you cannot keep hiding, and though you wish you had understood that earlier. It's never too late to pick yourself up.

Mildred and Walter are going to be pissed, but their advice was that you remained lowkey for however long it took Hollywood to get their next big scandal. Weeks, months, years.

And you're not about to scurry away into darkness like a rat.

FROM “JUST WATCH THIS” POSTED IN Y/N Y/LN'S YOUTUBE CHANNEL POSTED JUNE 12TH

[y/n,minute 01:30]: ❝...So I've finally decided to come here and tell you everything that has been happening for the past months. It's the truth, but whether you believe it is a personal choice.❞

[y/n,minute 05:56]: ❝It was a three-year dead-end relationship. You cannot, and should not, have a future with someone who laughs at your dreams, and tells you how you should behave and how to look to exalt him.❞

[y/n, minute 07:15]: ❝I said no. And I have not regret it for one second. I didn't tell anyone because I respect Aidan, although I don't think that is reciprocal by now.❞

[y/n, minute 10:01]: ❝I never cheated on him, and I know the source of those rumors. It breaks my heart to know that someone I trusted made up stuff about myself, and a part of my life that was so important to me. I am not telling you who it was, however, I will take legal action against them if the defamation continues.❞

[y/n, minute 14:54]: ❝Aidan decided to tell this person about our failed engagement, and I do not know if his intention was that this all became public. But I wish he'd been mature enough to handle it privately, like the adults we both are.❞

[y/n, minute 16:59]: ❝I started attending Formula 1 races because of an Ambassador contract I held with Elix until three days ago, when they decided to rescind it.❞

[y/n, minute 18:07]: ❝That's where I met both Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, back in April. Since they are the drivers for Ferrari, we spent a lot of time in the same place, which led to us becoming friends.❞

[y/n, minute 19:04]: ❝Charles Leclerc is my friend and we are not romantically involved, I urge you to stop making stuff up about him too. He never messed with my past relationship, we did not know each other.❞

[y/n, minute 21:55]: ❝When all of this started, I believed—naively— that it could just die down on its own. I am an actress. I was not only 'Aidan Kim's girlfiend' and I am not only his ex-girlfriend now. I am y/n y/ln.❞

[y/n, minute 23:31]: ❝I should have spoken sooner. I should have shut everything down the moment I started feel miserable and out of control. But I also know, I was being crucified so badly because I am a woman.❞

[y/n, minute 26:00]: ❝You have made me feel miserable and anxious, I have suffered from panic attacks and sleepless nights. And I'm not saying this to make you all feel bad and regretful, because the one thing you lack the most is empathy.❞

[y/n, minute 28:45]: ❝But I want you all to think that, if it had been the other way around and Aidan hadn't wanted to marry me, you would have said 'he wasn't ready' and you would have let him move on and find "The One" in peace.❞

[y/n, minute 31:35]: ❝If it was Timothee Chalamet—whom I also have a deep appreciation for—doing RomComs and nothing more, you would call it 'his specialty' and never question his talent.❞

[y/n, minute 33:17]: ❝If I was a man, this wouldn't have killed my reputation.❞

[y/n, minute 36:21]: ❝I will not remain quiet anymore while you step on me and diminish my work. I do not owe anything to Aidan Kim except for the drama the past months have brought me.❞

[y/n, minute 38:11]: ❝I'm going to focus on the future. And I am well aware this will be continue to be a topic of conversation, but I am not scared anymore. Because I know who I am and who I can count on.❞

[y/n, minute 40:12]: ❝If it weren't for my fans, who have been fighting my battles so hard, I wouldn't be here either. They're here for me, and I can never repay such pure love.❞

[y/n, minute 42:22]: ❝If you watched up to here, I'm sure you're wondering whether you should believe all of this, and like I said, it's all up to you❞

[y/n, minute 44:50]: ❝I will not be speaking about Aidan Kim again, so I ask you to refrain from asking about him. It's all been said and done, and I'm eager to move on.❞

[END]

You are looking at the all the comments.

aidanbabes WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BITCH EVEN ON

flowerbedkim Oh so now Aidan forced her to be with him? Bullshit. You are never saving your lying ass y/n, fuck you!!!!!

thatbitch123 You are absolutely right y/n if you were a man this wouldn’t have happened it's so sad

ynbabes2 my queen i waited for you to speak for so long!!! WE HAVE TO MOVE ON FROM THIS

leclercstar you all have made this girl's life absolute hell, i hope you never find peace!! I'm glad she's friends with Charles and Carlos.

presleyvibes wait and you thank people but not Vic who let you stay at her house? you're an ungrateful bitch

albstappen I saw her pic with Lily Muni and I just knew she was one of the good ones

ynmybeloved EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST YN SHALL FALL

kim41d4an IT'S YOUR WORD AGAINST AIDAN'S YOU CHEATING WHORE

June 12th, SoHo, New York.

You are trying to clean the mess around you as best you can. And although you could call someone to help you, sweeping and scrubbing keeps you busy and distracted. The first message you received after posting the video was from Mati a 'proud of you xx, tell me all about it later please!' text that made you take your first deep breath of the afternoon. You made an appointment with a doctor first thing in the morning, you want the panic to go away, you need it to.

Thoughts of how they're destroying you again, calling you a liar and a whore, swarm your brain and you try to toss them in the trash along with your ruined Dolce & Gabbana coat, mysteriously cut up with scissors. You told the truth, and not even the whole of it.

The video is being shown everywhere, you're sure you'll see it tomorrow in Good Morning America where they'll dissect every single move you make and every word that comes out of your mouth.

It's almost 9 pm when you finally stop wiping the apartment down, trying to get rid of every sign that Aidan Kim was ever inside it. It's not true that he paid for the apartment, you picked it yourself and made it a home and then he chose to come and live here, paying the rent once every three to five months. This is your home and you are reclaiming it.

Your phone rings and you take another deep breath before picking it up. Mildred and Walter have resorted to communicate with you through email, so you wonder who it is. Victoria called a few times during the weekend, left voicemails and text messages until you blocked her. Each of them with a new excuse and a more creative way to pin all of what she had done, on you.

It's a FaceTime call from Charles.

"Charlie!" you greet with a smile, before the image of him loads completely. "It's 3 am in Monaco, what the hell are you doing awake?"

Charles shrugs and you notice his bare shoulders, he's shirtless. You're suddenly self-conscious about the way you look. With your hair sticking up from the sweat, your greasy face and ragged shirt. It's a silly worry.

"I wanted to talk to you," he says, and you know he's tired. "I saw your video earlier, but I was doing something else."

"Oh, you saw that."

"I'm proud of you y/n, you are brave for speaking your mind like that. I know it must have taken some effort." Charles moves again and you see his chest, he's already in bed.

"Charles, go to sleep, we can talk about this later," you chuckle, heat is rising to your face.

"I wanted to see you y/n, it doesn't matter what time it is. And I really wanted to tell you I'm glad you posted that video."

"Thank you, Charlie. I should have done it sooner."

"The only one who knows what timing is right for you, is yourself."

"Yeah, I guess so." you sigh, you're exhausted too and you blame it more on the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through than deep cleaning your apartment.

"Are you tired?" he asks, suppressing a yawn.

"No more than you," you retort, but can't help yawning as well. It's a scientific fact that yawns are contagious. "Go to sleep, we can talk tomorrow."

You talked yesterday too, and the day before, and you cried so much on the phone again you thought he would eventually hang up until you calmed down. But Charles soothed you through the phone at 1 am Monaco time and told you to let it all out, and listened without interrupting you once how you called Aidan and Victoria every name in the book.

"Fine," Charles says, rubbing his left eye carelessly. "Will you give me a tour of your apartment tomorrow, then?"

"Yes! I finished cleaning it today!"

Charles laughs softly at your excitement. “We’ll talk tomorrow then, just because you need to sleep.”

“Sure I am the sleepy one,” you roll your eyes and Charles smiles, both dimples showing. “Goodnight Charlie, sweet dreams.” The last part you say it in a slightly mocking tone but Charles doesn’t take it as such, smile widening.

“Goodnight soleil,” he says and waits a few seconds for you to react to your newly given nickname before hanging up, anxious but satisfied.

─── team principal radio: ❝thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are liking the story so far. We're slowly getting to the y/n redemption. Once again, i really appreciate all of your interactions they mean the world to me. Also check out the series playlist if you haven't♡❞

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snivyartjpeg · 6 months ago

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Yuma Month Day 26 - Role Swap

god i was excited for this one. it first started off as a joke, but the more i thought about it, the more interesting this swap became. so here's my massive lore dump of changes that'd happen in the story beneath the cut (spoiler warning):

i think, fundamentally, yuma and yakou are very similar characters. they're both very protective and kindhearted, with a strong sense of justice and a penchant for attracting terrible luck. because of this, some things would remain the same, such as the NDA's dynamics with their doormat chief as well amnesia!yakou's massive unpaid intern energy. i think yakou would be pretty similar to how he behaved in the light novel- a bit more optimistic and naive, like yuma. but there are two key differences between them that'd make this a different story, especially in ch 4: yuma has a forte, and yakou is very selfish. so here's some changes:

yakou's wife is his shinigami now, as you can see, while shinigami is yuma's dead wife. i think mrs furio would act cooler than shinigami. she'd still be playful, but she takes her job more seriously. also she hands yakou the solution keys normally without throwing up. they still have to do the dance and mouth sword thing tho. and the other stuff. that's just death god protocol

shinigami (or in this case the unnamed Mrs. Kokohead but i will still be calling her shinigami for convenience sake) was a scientist at amaterasu who studied forensics and thanatology instead of regenerative medicine. this also means that the pill she gives zombie yuma is not going to bring him back, but instead grant the zombie homunculi a peaceful, painless, but permanent death

speaking of zombie yuma, he's the homunculus now! yakou is 100% human and also doesnt have a forte. he's still number one, but instead of having a forte he's just that good at solving mysteries

yes this means makoto looks like yakou now. sorry makotoheads. i think he'd have really long, shaggy hair dyed to be like. idk. black or something. also he's more clean shaven bc stubble with a mask on is a sensory nightmare

yuma still cant cook. he subsists entirely on takeout, meat buns, black coffee, and beer. he's still in a lot of debt and under a lot of stress and his personality is essentially "what if canon number one just gave up"

he doesn't smoke though. he tried once and got into the worst coughing fit

imma say it right now. kurumi is not a love interest. yakou likely disguises himself as a faculty member instead (also i think one of the teachers gets a crush on fem yakou bc i just know she'd be hot)

ANYWAY what about chapter 4? im SO glad you asked! because here's where things get spicy!

so, lets start with the dead wife. shinigami catches onto huesca's inhumane research and she's just as adamant about bringing the truth to light as she always is. she blows the whistle, so he blows her up. yuma investigates, but they dont let him look any further, yada yada, yuma stews in his misery for five years

yomi sends in the evidence to motivate yuma to kill huesca, and makoto lets it happen because a dead huesca would be convenient. he even introduces the hitman, fully expecting yuma to make use of him

yuma doesnt. in fact, he wants to kill huesca with his own hands. and now that these detectives are here, he can do it and even return alive. the thing is, he doesn't want to put them in danger, so he chooses to do almost everything alone (sound familiar?)

his plan is simple:

ask desuhiko for a peacekeeper uniform. desuhiko trusts him enough to take "i want to investigate kanai ward's ultimate secret by infiltrating their ranks" as an answer. he does, however, let yakou know about this as an offhand comment before the mystery ever begins

hold fubuki's hand. it doesnt really matter how. she'll gladly allow it because she's fubuki. he stores her time powers and heads out the sub. yakou also learns this as an offhand comment played off as a joke (maybe fubuki affectionately comments about how she never expected the chief's hands to be so soft... idk. there has to be some way for yakou to have this as a future clue)

use his peacekeeper status to sneak into amaterasu HQ and demand a functioning ama-pal from that one creepy researcher

use ama-pal + fubuki's borrowed powers to bypass huesca's security. sneak the bot past the hard-of-hearing doctor and press the button to shut off security

this would probably alert huesca, but since the doctor never received a warning, yuma has enough time to rush in and stab him before he realizes what's going on

leave HQ while still in uniform, dispose of the disguise once he's safe, and return to the NDA like nothing happened. success!

soooo.... yakou, on that same day, decides to investigate amaterasu HQ with makoto

all the while, vivia has his suspicions about yuma's actions and keeps an eye on him in spectral mode. he... basically witnessed the whole thing, so he gets up off his ass and decides to follow yakou to the lab because he has a Very Bad Feeling about this

just like canon, he senses the death god and deduces that our protag has been killing off murderers, and so he wants to protect his chief as well as his peace and quiet (his dynamic with yuma would be the same as his dynamic with yakou, since it's entirely believable for yuma to treat vivia with the same kindness yakou did)

yakou tries to speak to huesca, but surprise! security is disabled and he's dead in the lab! no one else at amaterasu liked huesca enough to check on him, so yakou and makoto are the first ones at the scene of the crime. yakou, of course, decides to start investigating this murder

vivia somehow sneaks into the lab (dont ask me how) and confronts yakou, threatening him with his boxcutter and adamantly imploring him to stop pursuing this particular mystery in the same way he did yuma in canon. unfortunately, this attracts attention, and now they're in trouble (maybe even yomi's there to fetch his files). at this point, yakou has enough solution keys, so he panics and goes right into the labyrinth (and maybe others can enter for another reason that isnt coalescence idk)

so... they go in the labyrinth... vivia tries to stop him every step of the way, until the answer is right in front of them

yakou kills yuma with his own hands. there's no stab wounds or toxic gas to leave any doubt. yakou begins to question what good his justice really does. it doesnt even save them from their predicament, just like the other deaths. instead, makoto ex machina comes in to save them, and hands yakou a small black box

when they return to the agency, everyone is heartbroken over their chief, who seemingly died out of nowhere. fubuki tried rewinding time, but to no avail. halara tried everything to wake him up, knowing it's futile. desuhiko stood aside, feeling completely helpless. and yakou and vivia return looking like they just came back from hell

they barely get the chance for a funeral before the knockout gas trap activates... you know the rest

AAAAND SCENE! so that's my extremely long winded lore dump about this au. i thought about it Way Too Much but god it's so interesting to me. i love these characters and swapping them was immensely fun

#rain code #mdarc #raincode #master detectives archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #yakou furio #desuhiko thunderbolt #shinigami #yumagami #kokogami #yakou's wife #rain code spoilers #mdarc spoilers #raincode spoilers

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bad268 · 7 months ago

Note

Hello my friend! I've recently discovered your work for the frog boys and also saw you have requests open (if this isn't true anymore I'm terribly sorry!) I was wondering if you could write something about Pezzy (and maybe the rest of the frog house included if you want) playing horror games with his s/o? Have a good day!

Scared in Love (Frog Boys X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous

Requested: Clearly (I decided to make this part of [Blank] in Love. I could be read alone though. Thank you my friend <3)

Warnings: Horror games

POV: First Person (I/me)

W.C. 1027 (about 250 each)

Summary: Horror games are scary, who knew?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

Technically can be read alone, but Part 4 <-

Puffer (At Dead of Night)

“This is stupid! All we’re doing is running from a bald guy,” I laughed as I controlled the movements in the game as we ran between rooms. Puffer had been asked to play At Dead of Night. Despite knowing he did not like horror games, he agreed as long as I was there for it. Neither of us had heard much of this game, and so far it was pretty boring. “Am I supposed to lock this door?”

“Maybe? Isn’t the guy chasing you?” Puffer answered as he leaned closer to the screen. He broke his glasses recently, so he was blind for this stream, and that’s the main reason he asked me to join. “Wait, why is that light flickering?”

“Like I know,” I scoffed as I immediately moved toward it. Nothing happened. “See chat, y'all just be hyping up this game, and it's plain.” I turned around in the game and jumped in my seat as some random person showed up. “Holy shit!”

“Dr. Bose was accused of the worst crime possible,” Puffer joked with mock seriousness. “We need to go to the ground floor now to see the police lights!” He took over the controls, again leaning close to the screen to see.

“Maybe you shouldn’t speed run out of the room,” I advised.

“Nah, we’ll be fine,” And almost like Jimmy was listening, he jumped out from around the corner to kill us. Puffer jumped back in his chair, causing it to fall back.

“What did I fucking say!?”

Pezzy (Doors)

“It’s Roblox. How scary can it possibly be?” were going to be my famous last words. I was sure of it.

“I swear to god if one more of these things pulls me out of the closet again, I will throw my controller at the screen!” I shouted as I died once again.

“Welcome to the club,” Pezzy laughed, “It only gets worse.”

“I’m going to cry,” I joked as I respawned. “This is literally torture! I did not agree to do this!”

“Yes, you did!” Leave it to Pezzy to pull up the receipts in the form of a text you sent him a while ago. He briefly showed it to the camera before clearing his throat, and imitating my voice, “I doubt it’s even that hard. I bet that I could speed run it faster than you.”

“I don’t remember saying that sober,” I admitted as I ran through the doors, ignoring Pezzy’s laugh. “I really don’t. In fact, I think a certain someone stole my phone and texted someone while we were drunk. I wouldn’t put it past you honestly.”

“I cannot believe you would accuse me of such a thing,” Pezzy gasped as he put a hand to his chest. “I seem to remember you bragging about not being scared of anything. You’re eating your words now, huh?”

“Never,” I said definitively. It didn’t last long as, almost immediately, the red skull thing chased me through the rooms. “I swear! PLEASE!”

Droid (FNAF Help Wanted)

“It’s not even that bad,” I laughed as I glanced at chat while Droid stood behind me playing Five Nights at Freddy’s: Help Wanted. I had played it before since I was practically a FNAF channel, so Droid made it his subgoal to play it when they hit 5,000 subs. Granted, he did not think it would happen that quickly. “Just wait until you get to the third game.”

“You’re kidding me!” He shouted as he frantically looked around the room. “There’s no way it gets worse than this! You’re capping!”

“Nah, you’re just a baby,” I laughed as a highlighted chat caught my eye.

“You should shove him.” it read. Thankfully, he could not read chat while in the game, so I took this as my opportunity. With a smirk, I stood up and walked around to stand behind Droid. Just as the music picked up in the game, I grabbed his shoulders and he was jumpscared. From me and the game as Bonnie jumped out at him.

He flung his arms back to try and drab me, but I ducked and ran back to my chair. He pulled the headset off and immediately glared at me. He let go of the joycons as he pointed and slowly approached me.

“I will murder you,” He joked as he leaned down to be at eye level with me. “I will threaten domestic violence live on Twitch.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I joked back as I raised my eyebrows.

“WOAH! WOAH! WOAH! Nah, don’t even!”

Grizzy (GMod Horror Maps)

“I don’t like the squidward-looking thing or the witches,” I cried as I ran my character through the dark maze. “Why did you mod them in?”

“Because I knew you didn’t like them,” Grizzy laughed as his character followed mine around. “I can remove one of them if you want.”

“Please do,” I laughed as I purposely let myself get killed by Squidward, so I would respawn. Grizzy exited the game to fix the mod as I stayed on the call with him, entertaining his chat. Eventually, he got it changed but did not tell me what he put in.

“Can I know what was spawned?” I asked as I reloaded the game. I had to update it since the mods changed, and I got stuck on the loading screen for a minute. I thought he would have told me at that point, but no. When I loaded into the game, I saw a hoard of witches immediately. I slowly looked over to Discord to see Grizzy’s face cam, and of course, he’s got that malicious smile. “I will murder you.”

“You always say you could outrun the witches,” Grizzy laughed as his character also loaded it. As soon as he spawned, he threw a bomb at the group. “I’m testing you.”

I screamed as I ran my character the opposite way through the maze, “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“See!? It’s not so easy, huh?” Grizzly laughed as he watched my character run. ”What are you mumbling?”

“California girls were unforgettable,” I said a little louder than before as my voice got higher. “Daisy dukes bikinis on top.”

~~~~~

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kalims · 2 years ago

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I SEE SLOT REQUEST OPEN— IG??

Can i request a fluff with Octa trio(separately) on a date but being disturbed by the first year by questioning “why are you dating with this shady guy mom— you could’ve get better step father for us.” ace said…

AHAHAHAHAHA I JUST WANT CHAOS DURING TTHE DATE BETWEEN THE TRIO THAT WOULD BE FLABBERGASTED OR SHOCKED AND SPEECHLESS BY WHAT ACE SAYING THAT😭

that time where you became a parent | octavinelle

premise. there's a lot of firsts in relationships and getting your date crashed by your partner's self-proclaimed kids for the first time is apparently one as well.

cw. mention of getting tortured once (brief), someone disappears, mention of mafia as a comparison to the octa trio, not proofread

includes. gender neutral reader, fluff

note. hi yes, after ten years /j I've decided to test my flexibility with requests since I plan to take up commisions 😚

also ik that cw is really concerning but it's nothing bad in the writing i swear!! also you sent this ask a few hours ago (4) but I'm already done?? wow

hey also im so sorry I just realized you used a feminine term 'mom' and i only realized after I finished writing 💀 you didn't specify the reader and I didn't notice so I thought it's like gender neutral my bad!

azul ashengrotto | all of the above

"azul you've been frozen for a minute,, are you okay?"

"I'm,,, fine?" he thinks?

ace snorts. "dude you call that fine? you look like you just saw one of ursula's tentacles get cut off,"

shocked? flabbergasted? speechless? azul is just one huge combination of those three even though they're pretty much the same thing. he's just suprised, albeit a little disturbed that your... five grown men friends—‎also your apparent 'children' have now kidnapped you as their parent and is planning to make him a step-father without his consent!

he looks at you with a blink as if to as 'what in the great seven are they talking about' meanwhile you just shrug and take a bite out of the lunch azul had just bought you, thoroughly enjoying it because come on. who wouldn’t enjoy free food? it's your right as his partner to experience getting spoiled but that doesn't mean you don't get to not like it.

judging by the casual, indifferent demeanor you display and even your unbothered face? azul can tell that this happens lots of times and at some point you had accepted it.

also the ursula comment.. he got offended on her behalf, no way the great ursula would even let that happen to her. she's the epitome of greatness! plus... he'll have your bratty child know that octopuses can regrow a limb!

wait a minute.

azul sputtered and frowned defensively. "excuse me? shady?" he'll have them know that he is a perfectly—perfect father for your children! there is no 'better' because he simply is the best.

oh azul... who's gonna tell him that he's obviously showing off whenever your grown 'kids' are around in hopes of getting their approval? no one apparently cause ace thinks it's too funny for it to be stopped and he needs seriously good entertainment that matches up to this level.

god lord if anyone sees him snooping around the library on topics that typically interest teens.. or jade leaking out the fact that he sent the tweels to collect information about the five.. that makes for good blackmail according to them and he's starting to get concerned with how many material they had gotten from him.

ㅤ

jade leech | more amused than suprised

"I believe that I am capable of reaching the standards of your 'children'," a chuckle.

epel quips over from the side casually, toning his pitch up a notch to showcase the knowing voice. "hows your criminal record? clean?"

the chuckling ceases.

okay maybe he can reach their expectations in ways that doesn't involve a clean record. in his defense that person had crossed a line so jade had to... remind them which line to stay behind. it's not like epel knows that the speeding ticket was just a cover up for the more concerning one and as much as jade liked to tell the tale, he supposes he'd get much more disagreement if he told the other story, so he resorted to talking about the less... severe crime.

jack in particular voices his disagreement, more so when jade had commented on craving meat while eyeing jack in a way that the buff man immediately got offended and snitched to you.

safe to say that as much as you love your concerning, tall, red flag boyfreind he's definitely gonna feel the heat from your glare. that day jade learned not to mess with jack cause despite how ironically strong the man is? apparently he's a pretty big snitch cause he always goes to you and tries to 'convince' you that even kalim makes a better lover.

jade did not like that at all. why like the excruciatingly boring sunshine of scarabia? I mean come on, over kalim and jade? who's less boring? he questions you with a particularly coy smile.

for your sake, he supposes. the five troublesome first years had gotten less treatment for him nowadays and he's made it perfectly clear that he has the capability to mess with them once again, be it in a battle of mentality, or strength. but just cause he let them off doesn't mean their off the hook yet! which is great because with the subtly implications he had made meant that jack with the quick mouth wouldn't be so quick to snitch on him.

for a guy who tortur—I mean, gave a perfectly justified punishment to a sinner jade is pretty childish and competitive to prove that he's a pretty damn good boyfriend that no one,,, absolutely no one (not even your kids lol) can mess with.

ㅤ

floyd leech | thinks it's really funny and wants to be the dad

"awww.. shrimpy you didn't tell me you got a whole troupe of baby shrimpies," floyd giggles.

"I mean they didn't tell me that I was their parent too so,"

"hmph! calling the prefect my parent would be disrespecting master lilia!" sebek bemoaned—loudly despite accepting a parental scold about volume from you.

most of the sentence that ace commented about him being... shady? just went in one ear and out the other. I mean yeah, he isn't gonna blow the 'cover' but they're mafia type shit shady and he can't exactly deny what they see. and apparently what ace sees is that you need a better 'husband' and they need a better 'step-father' to which floyd replied a; "there's no one else. you're stuck with me baby shrimpies,"

floyd's grin was very ominous but when was it not? though his specific harder emphasis on 'no one' concerns you a little and you even had a moment of realization because besides that one guy who miraculously disappeared after he flirted witn you quite literally disappeared from thin air... who else approached you after that?

but just like any other MC you shrug it off :) (for the sake of the plot)

for some reason floyd believes the family thing wholly and had now squeezed himself into it—to the dismay and endless complaints from sebek. besides the obvious dislike the angry teen had out for him, floyd seems to think the opposite and even finds sebek amusing! (to the further suffering of sebek floyd had requested for him to call him dad)

sebek refused of course and explained he already had a father and simply could not!

floyd took it the wrong way and asked you if you were seeing another person 😭 I mean there's only one person 'lilia' in the school and from sebek's 'master-lilia' from their conversation it's clear that the boy was referring to whoever lilia is as his father so he tried to get jade up in it (who loved the idea of storming diasomnia but hell, even jade was wary of the nobody floyd never heard of in his life!)

^ coughs that was his jealousy speaking. in the end jade outright talked him out of it and told him that he could always spread some.. things since it always works.

out of jealousy floyd had told you that lilia sounds like a 5 year old name and is lame. jealousy may come in fire but floyd's come in grude. you just feel kinda bad for lilia lol

ㅤ

── ko-fi

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twst fluff #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #jade leech x reader #jade leech #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #x gn reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months ago

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fic rec friday 61

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Autistic Lance (Voltron) [series] by dontthinkiwont

"Look, okay, I get it, I like peanut butter, you like sharks. It's a thing, whatever. But seriously, dude - what the fuck?" - Or, Lance has Autism Spectrum Disorder and this can cause him to fixate on some things. Like, maybe, for instance, great white sharks. For example.

yes i like this series for projection reasons. whatever. it was also one of the first autistic lance fics out there!! and its v heavy in platonic relationships yall are gonna love it

2. Revelations and Reactions by @azapofinspiration

Keith couldn't believe it. He was part Galra. That was hard enough to deal with... But then he realized that he would have to tell the rest of the team. He couldn't help but fear how they would react. In which Keith reveals that he's part Galra after facing the Blade of Marmora's trials.

azap truly never misses. they KNOWWWW how to do found family like a CHAMP and i will never get tired of reading canon corrections where keith is like. loved and accepted lol

3. A Memory Like a Snapshot by MemeKonVLD

Pidge is still close —closer than is entirely comfortable if he has to be honest— giving him an evaluating glance. Lance doesn’t really know where to look, other than up her nose— but that grows old pretty fast. So he looks at himself in the reflection of her glasses. And squints. He touches his own face for the first time since waking up— and feels the roughness of his chin. “I have stubble,” he says, and the words are as alarmed as they can be even though they still sound slightly slurred, slightly off. Pidge blinks a couple of times at him, and finally retracts into a more comfortable distance. “Well, yeah,” she says. “You are like, what? 22? 23 in a couple of months?” “I’m feeling— I’m feeling a little queasy,” he says then, with bright spots of color dancing in front of his eyes as he thinks 22. Suddenly, a bucket gets shoved against his face. He takes hold of it with clammy fingers and he leans on his side so he can... use it. Thoroughly. “I’m having Garrison flashbacks,” he hears Pidge say. (Or: Lance is stung by an alien bug, loses his memories temporarily and makes assumptions about his and Keith's relationship. Also, Pidge cheats at Uno.)

losing your memories. and waking up. and someone treats you so kindly and lovingly that you know, immediately, in the bones of you, that they love you. and the feeling in your chest even if your brain doesnt remember of love for them tells you clearly that this person is your soulmate. i am going to LOSE IT

4. Love in the Times of (Intergalactic) War by MemeKonVLD

Lance: Oh, man. [I see him grow visibly excited here, leaning forward and putting his hands up— he’s big on gesticulating, as anyone who’s watched the pilots of Voltron host SNL a couple of months ago knows.] Space is vast. I know that’s not groundbreaking knowledge there, and everyone’s somewhat aware of it, but— being up there? traveling around space for years, and knowing we never even— we never even came near to touching upon a tenth of what’s out there? That’s cool, weird and scary all in one.

WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT 2016 FICS. HUH. ICONIQUE?? AMAZING??? SHOWSTOPPING?? INCREDIBLE??? bc pov outsider is the BEST and watching how much lance SHINES to anyone who looks at him...yeah

5. Skin by MemeKonVLD

He’s aware of Lance talking to him, but he’s still too asleep to try to decipher whatever it is he’s blabbering about. He only starts paying attention when one of Lance’s hands goes to the drawstring of his pajama pants. “Whoa, what are you doing?” He asks, slapping Lance’s hand away, cheeks warm. “You,” Lance starts, pointing at him (and Keith notices that for all he’s made fun of him for the last forever for them, he’s wearing his fingerless gloves), “are not screwing up my skin care routine, man.” (AKA: the one where Keith and Lance switch bodies.)

suave keith and flustered lance my BELOVED. swapped bodies truly has to be one of the top ten tropes of all time. love watching them be in love and also stupid

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

#making these makes me sad now 😭😭#vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pre klance #getting together #established klance #autistic lance #galra keith #keith angst #fic rec #FRF #longpost

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shanastoryteller · 1 year ago

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Happy pride!!

Fem MXY WWX pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

They're back to riding, only a couple hours away from Jin Tower, and Wei Wuxian is happy to be off his feet, but he can't even focus on that.

He's too busy feeling desperately sad for Mo Xuanyu.

She lived as a pauper in a family that despised her, had a father that ignored her, was so lonely that she named her sword Friend, and killed herself rather than marry Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would have been nice to her. It took him a while to warm up, but he's trying now, to do his duty as a proper husband. Which is inconvenient for Wei Wuxian, but probably would have meant the world to Mo Xuanyu.

She didn't have to die. If she'd been able to hold onto hope for just a few more days, instead of giving in to revenge and despair, then she could have lived out her life out from underneath the thumb of other people.

"Are you okay?"

He startles out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sizhui has pulled his mare up beside his and is peering at him in concern.

He forces a smile, because he's put Sizhui through enough today, and he's a good boy that doesn't deserve to be involved in any of this. The worst part about dying again is going to be leaving behind Sizhui. He's such a sweet boy who loves him so easily and he just knows that it's going to break his heart when either the cultivation or the curse mark has run its course. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Sizhui looks unconvinced, but nods before looking up towards the front of the procession, where Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan are talking about something while Jin Guangyao pretends to be interested. He reaches into his sleeve. "I found some of these in town when I went looking for you."

He pulls out a small bag of the sweet, spicy pepper candy that Wei Wuxian likes so much and hold it out.

"You're the best!" he says, taking the bag and also pausing to squeeze his arm in thanks, only not pulling him into a hug because he's not sure how tolerant the horses will be about it.

The food in Cloud Recesses is ass and he can't cover everything with chilli oil because the only person he'd met who liked food as spicy as he did was - well, no one. So having Mo Xuanyu like spicy food had seemed like edging a little too close to obvious.

He'd been so happy when Sizhui had brought pepper candy back for him for the first time and had sworn him to secrecy to how how much he loved them.

Wei Wuxian pops one of the candies in his mouth, sucking on it to more quickly get to the firey pops of pepper, which is his favorite.

There's about five seconds of deliciousness and then his stomach rolls with nausea. He tightens his grip, trying to ride it out, but the taste of the candy he loved turns sour and he's seriously worried he's going to hurl, which Lan Zhan would never let him hear the end of.

He spits the candy out onto the ground, rubbing at his mouth.

"Lady Xuanyu?" Sizhui asks startled. "Is - sorry, did I get the wrong one?"

"No, no, it's perfect," he assures, internally sighing in relief as his stomach starts to settle. "I guess I shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach! It ruins the flavor. Who knew?"

He's eaten them on an empty stomach a dozen times before and never had an issue.

"Okay," Sizhui says slowly. 'Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sizhui, don't worry," he says, and means it, even though he sort of wants to cry.

The pepper candies were one of the only things he could get his hands on that he enjoyed eating, and now even that's gone?

At least the Jin go all out on the banquets.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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writingquestionsanswered · 6 months ago

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Hi, do you have any advice for indecisive writers? <3 Anything in general would help, I'd love something specifically for autistic people (whose brains shut down the "decising-making centre") too if possible <3

Tips for Indecisive Writers

My number one tip for indecisive writers is to not be afraid to go "old school" and literally pick something out of a hat or roll some dice. For example, if you're deciding between three different plot ideas, you can write each one on a few folded up pieces of paper, throw them all into a bowl, mix it up, and whatever you draw is the one you go with. Or, you could say 1 and 2 are idea #1, 3 and 4 are idea #2, and 5 and six are idea #3, then roll dice. And, actually, if you type "roll dice" into Google, you can roll digital dice and you can choose up to 20-sided dice or customize your own number of sides. This is particularly helpful if you have a list of items, such as several names you're trying to decide between.

If you Google "online decision maker" you come up with a bunch of different online tools. Easy Decision Maker lets you type in a question... for example, "What should I name my character?" Then you can enter up to 26 options. When you click the "answer" button, it chooses one for you. Picker Wheel lets you put in the various options, then spin a wheel to decide.

The trouble I tend to have is sticking with whatever "fate" decides at that point, but one thing I've learned is that sometimes when my brain plays that game... where I roll a 4 meaning I go with plot idea #2, and then I'm disappointed, I know that is because some part of me knows I want to do either idea #1 or idea #3. So, even though it isn't working exactly as planned, I've still accomplished something... I've eliminated a choice. Now I can roll again, with 1 -3 being idea #1 and 4 - 6 being idea #2, and I know if I'm disappointed again with whatever I get, then the remaining choice is the one I wanted all along. For whatever reason, though, my brain can't just make that decision. It needed to go through that process to get there, and that's okay!

Now, as helpful as decision making tools can be, they're not always helpful in the moment, when you're writing and you're not really stuck between particular choices, but rather you're facing an empty void and aren't sure where to take the story next. For me, this is where pre-writing comes in really handy. I always go into a story with a beginning to end summary at the very least so I know where things are going. There's still often some decision making to be done, but I find it easier to do before I write rather than during.

When it comes to finding things to even decide between... like when you're planning your story and you come up empty on something, I find inspiration sources to be extremely helpful. For example, let's say I want to write a romantasy, and I have no idea what I want the setting to be like. That's the worst kind of indecision, because it's not like I can just type four or five locations into a decision maker and let it pick for me. I don't have a list to even pick from. So, looking at inspiration sources helps. Maybe I saw a travel show about Bavaria which really intrigued me... that could be a great inspiration location for my setting. Or, let's say I'm not sure what I want my character to look like. I might scroll through a list of up and coming actors, through the cast of a random TV show or movie, or think about actors in TV shows or movies I've recently seen. As I scan past thumbnails of head shots, when I see someone who looks like my character, I can stop and note down the name or save the photo. And with any inspiration source, if I find myself unable to decide between multiple inspiration sources... it's back to the ol' decision maker!

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

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astrobei · 2 years ago

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for @quinnick: kiss prompt #4 - lips barely touching

The car is out of gas. Will is about ten seconds away from maybe-dying (again). Mike Wheeler has been abnormally quiet today.

At least of late, one of those things is more abnormal than the others.

The car is always out of gas. Will doesn’t know when the last time they’d filled it up was, but he does know that it’s not his problem trying to figure it out. That’s Hopper’s deal. Or his mom’s, maybe. Or Nancy’s, or Jonathan’s, or–

Whatever! The point is that the car is out of gas, Mike and Will are stranded at the currently closed general store, and they’re probably about to die.

Again.

“Mike,” Will tries, for maybe the hundredth time. “It’s not your fault, okay, it could’ve happened to anyone–”

“Yeah,” Mike grumbles miserably, as they round the corner, from aisle four – cleaning supplies and household items – into aisle five – canned goods. Most of the shelves are empty, turned over. Mike picks up a can of pickled green beans, pulls a face, and puts it back on the shelf. “But it didn’t happen to anyone. It happened to me.”

Will takes a long, deep breath in through his nose. God forbid Mike Wheeler ever let anything go. “You didn’t know,” he huffs anyway. “It’s not your fault.” The store is dark, which is great for being able to roll your eyes without Mike seeing. Will’s flashlight sputters, briefly, the bright circle of light flickering in and out of view. He smacks it against his palm once, twice, and it steadies. “Seriously,” Will adds, as Mike slows to a stop in front of him. “Stop beating yourself up. So we have to wait for a ride. Big deal.”

Mike turns around to face him. His expression is mostly unreadable in the dark, but Will’s flashlight catches the edge of it – worried, a little guilty. “Yeah,” Mike says softly. “Except there are things everywhere and waiting for a ride is just– we’re sitting ducks here, okay,” Mike frowns. “I don’t like it. It feels like tempting fate.”

“Well, the simple fact of my existence feels like tempting fate sometimes,” Will jokes. It works, for a split second – Mike’s furrowed brows smooth out into something halfway amused, and he makes a noise that might be a laugh.

“Not funny,” Mike says anyway. His lips twitch.

“You laughed!” Will insists, smiling. His voice carries down through the hallway in a vibrant echo. “I know you did!”

“Shut up,” Mike whispers, looking away. “Would it kill you to keep your voice down?”

It might. Somewhere in the back of Will’s mind, he’s vaguely aware that they’re not safe here, out in the open, and that the whole point of them coming inside instead of waiting in the parking lot was to hunker down until Jonathan and Nancy could get another car here to pick them up. And also, preferably, get some gas.

Somewhere significantly closer in Will’s mind, though, is the knowledge that this is the most Mike has said – and the closest he’s come to laughing – since the car had stalled on the way from the cabin to the general store ten minutes ago, and Mike had just barely had time to pull into the abandoned parking lot before it had stopped altogether. He knows Mike doesn’t like this – being caught off-guard, out in the open. Even minute changes in the plan – which you’d think they’d all be more prepared for, considering the way things have been going lately – get Mike a little keyed up.

And the sorry, borderline pathetic part is this: despite it all, despite the ever-present threat of danger, and the impending sense of doom that’s been hanging over their heads for what seems like forever, Will feels vaguely pleased with himself anyway, seeing Mike hold back a smile instead of forcing one on his face.

So yeah, it might kill him, if he kept his voice down. That’s okay. Will thinks it would be worth it, sometimes – the danger and the doom and everything else – to hear Mike laugh.

God, what’s wrong with him? That’s embarrassing. That’s so embarrassing.

He shakes the thought off. “Whatever,” Will says instead, praying the cover of darkness is hiding the blush that’s rapidly rising to his cheeks. He angles the flashlight away from them anyway, just in case, and Mike’s face falls back into silhouette. “You know I’m right. You’re doomed just by being here with me.”

Mike shakes his head. “You know I don’t think of you like that.”

Will frowns. “Like what?”

“Like– like a bad luck charm,” Mike waves his hands around. “Or whatever.”

“I didn’t say bad luck charm,” Will exclaims. “Ouch! Stop putting words into my mouth.”

Mike grins. “Would you rather have, uh,” he picks up the nearest can to him, something small and vaguely gray, “tinned sardines in your mouth? Tinned sardines in water? Oh, gross. Never mind, actually.”

“I would rather not,” Will decides, even though the shelves are so bare that they might have to suck it up and take home the tinned sardines in water after all. “Would you like some, uh. Tuna?”

“I guess we know why there’s so much fish,” Mike sighs, leaning heavily against an empty shelf. “Nobody wanted it.”

“You mean the ten people outside of our circle of friends that are still left in Hawkins? Yeah,” Will scoffs, then sets the can back down with a soft clink. “I guess not.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment. It’s quiet in the store, the room dark and lit faintly by Will’s flashlight and the display in the corner. It lights Mike up a faint blue, catches the edges of his jaw and where his hair is curling softly over the hood of his jacket.

Will’s flashlight sputters again.

When it comes back on this time, it’s more faint than it was before. It’s dark in here, Will realizes, a bit belatedly. Like, really dark.

He takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Mike, just a little, like the shape of his body all leaned against the empty shelves is a grounding force. Mike gives him a look that Will can’t quite decipher in the dark.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Will breathes out. The proximity is helping, a little. “Just– waiting for our ride.”

Mike leans in a bit closer too, places an arm under Will’s elbow. It’s a light touch, nothing forceful, but the semblance of support is there. “You sure? You look a little pale.”

Sometimes, Will hates how well Mike knows him. He doesn’t get antsy in the same way Mike does in situations like these, but he’d be lying if he said they didn’t affect him at all. It should be expected by now, the automatic fight or flight.

For some cruel reason, it still isn’t. “You can’t even see me,” he says, but lets himself lean into the touch anyway.

“I can see enough,” Mike says easily. “Do you want to sit down?”

Will shakes his head. The only thing worse than waiting out in the open is sitting out in the open. At least when you’re standing, you can run. “No. I’m fine.”

Will can’t see Mike either, but he’d be willing to bet real money – that he doesn’t have – that he can tell exactly what Mike’s expression looks like. The pause grows, swells and swells and swells, until Will is sure Mike is going to say something–

There’s a clattering outside.

Instantly, Mike’s hand tightens its grip on Will’s elbow. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” Will hisses, twisting around to try and see through the windows. “Of course I heard that, Mike.”

“Do you think that’s–”

“No idea,” Will whispers. With no small amount of reluctance, he tugs his arm out of Mike’s grip. He misses the warmth of it almost instantaneously, and the tugging in his stomach is only amplified by the way Mike automatically leans in behind him, places a hand on his back to replace the absent touch, like it was never gone at all. Will swallows, and flicks the flashlight off. “Now be quiet.”

“The windows are boarded up,” Mike says, decidedly not being quiet. Will wonders where the Mike Wheeler of fifteen minutes ago went – the one that was sulking and fidgeting in silence the whole way down the first aid aisle. “They’re boarded up, so nothing can get in. Right?”

“We got in,” Will points out, which Mike seems to realize at approximately the same second he does. It’s getting a little hard to think, with Mike so close to him.

Will really wishes Mike would pull his hand away.

“Right,” Mike whispers, breath ghosting gently over the back of Will’s neck. “Okay. That’s fine. That’s fine.”

Fine, Will thinks. That’s one word for it.

Another clattering. It’s closer this time.

Will freezes.

Jonathan and Nancy are probably about ten minutes out. Twenty if they had to go back to the Wheelers’ for the other car. So they’d probably be fine if they stuck it out here, because the chance of something happening across them now, in the brief period of time where they’re stuck without a ride, in a building equipped with close to nothing that could help, is small.

Small, but not nonexistent.

Will isn’t really feeling inclined to take that chance. “Come on,” he says, then spins on his heel, grabbing Mike’s hand and tugging him in the opposite direction. “Come with me.”

Mike follows easily, stumbling slightly with the sudden movement. “Wh– where are we going?”

“Just come on,” Will says, then tugs Mike around to the back of the store. He yanks open a door, and shoves him inside. “Get in.”

“Whoa,” Mike says, as Will tumbles in behind him. “Will, what–”

“Would it kill you to be quiet?”

“Sorry,” Mike says, then does, at last, fall silent.

Immediately, Will wishes he hadn’t said that. It’s dark in here – even darker than out in the front of the store – and the only noise is the faint hum of a generator, somewhere behind the walls. It’s grating and stilted. Will wonders when the last time it had been repaired was.

Plus, it’s really–

It’s really fucking dark in here.

Will lets out a long, slow exhale, and reaches out to feel for the wall beside him. His palm comes into contact with chipped paint and he follows the shape of it down, lowering himself onto the ground.

“Will?” Mike says, and Will is in half a mind to say that thing about being quiet again, but–

It’s dark. It’s really dark.

“Yeah,” he says, barely audible even to himself over the faint hum of the generator, and the louder hum – demanding, prominent, persistent – of his blood rushing through his ears. “I just– sitting. I’m sitting.”

There had at least been some light out in the front, but this storage closet might as well be a void. It smells vaguely of dust, something stale and unknown and probably untouched for who-knows-how-long. Will takes another deep breath in.

“Where?” Mike asks. “I don’t want to step on you.”

Will cracks a smile. “Here,” he says, and holds a hand up in the air. “Right here.”

There’s a quiet shuffling sound as Mike moves closer, and then Will feels fingertips brushing against his. Mike latches on immediately, gripping tighter onto his hand and sits down in front of him.

Will still can’t see anything – he can’t see anything – but he can feel Mike’s presence like it’s a tangible thing.

Mike could let go of Will’s hand now. Now that he’s found him.

He doesn’t, though.

“Hey,” Mike says, then there’s another faint shuffling noise. “Where are we?”

“Storage closet.”

“Huh. How did you know it was here?”

Will cracks another smile, despite himself. “My mom worked here, remember? For, like, years.”

“Right,” Mike laughs, and then he’s moving closer, knees bumping against knees in the dark. “I forgot. It doesn’t feel like the same place.”

“Tell me about it,” Will sighs. He’s probably breathing in dust and debris and soot and all sorts of gross stuff, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He presses his knees against Mike’s a little harder, just because he can.

“I remember,” Mike starts, readjusting his grip on Will’s hand – fingers interlocked, a firmer grip – “she’d give me free candy from the front counter. Whenever I came in with my parents, I mean. My mom was so confused about why I kept asking to tag along to Melvald’s with her.”

“That’s not fair,” Will laughs. “She never let me have any candy.”

“You were a menace all hopped up on sugar,” Mike points out. “I knew how to behave myself.”

That’s a damn lie, and they both know it. “Liar,” Will says quietly, leaning his head back against the wall. “You’re such a liar.”

“Maybe so,” Mike hums. “But I’m still the one who got free candy, so–”

“Mike!” Will shoves lightly at his knee, and Mike’s answering laugh fills the small space instantaneously. It’s loud – too loud, because they’re supposed to be hiding, goddamnit – but the nagging little voice at the back of Will’s head is vanquished almost as quickly as it came. “Shut up.”

Mike, as always, ignores him. “Why don’t we turn on a light?”

“The fuse is probably blown,” Will responds. “If there’s even a light in this stupid closet.”

“I mean this, idiot,” Mike says, and then clicks the flashlight back on. The batteries must be dying, because it flickers to life weakly, steadying out into a dim yellow-white. “Obviously.”

“Don’t waste the batteries,” Will says at once, trying to grab for it. “Come on, Mike–”

“Jonathan and Nancy will be here any minute and then we can go put in new batteries,” Mike says, holding it easily out of reach. “No point sitting in the dark, right?”

“Mike,” Will tries to protest, but it’s useless. Mike’s made up his mind.

Slowly, and a little far away, Will realizes what Mike is trying to do. He’s not being subtle about it, but subtlety has never been Mike Wheeler’s strong suit. He’s always been exuberant, quick and spontaneous with his actions, and this is no different. Sitting up close, closer than would be strictly necessary in any other situation. Turning the light on, despite the dying batteries. Telling Will about coming here as a kid, all those years ago. Making him laugh. Diffusing the tension.

Jesus, and he’s still holding Will’s hand.

A wave of affection washes over him, sudden and overwhelming enough for Will to feel borderline nauseous.

This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. Mike can’t just sit here and touch their knees together and hold Will’s hand, and–

“Look,” Mike is saying, and then he’s holding the flashlight under his chin and grinning. “Don’t I look freaky?”

In all honesty, Mike looks fucking hilarious. The direct light casts long shadows across the dips of his cheekbones, the shapes of his eyelashes distorting wildly as he blinks. “No,” Will snorts, rolling his eyes. “You look ridiculous.”

“Really?” Mike grins, in a way that means he knows just how ridiculous he looks. “Not even a little?” He waggles his eyebrows, and the resulting effect is so comical that Will can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, sharp and sudden and real.

“Mike,” he chides, for the millionth time. “You’re going to kill the battery.”

Mike looks way too pleased with himself. “Worth it,” he says anyway, as he sets the flashlight down. It evens out the sharp angles of his face, now that it’s farther away, lights his cheeks and nose and eyes up into something softer, more open.

Something about the steadiness of Mike’s expression is brighter than any source of light. Suddenly, it’s too much. Suddenly, it’s blinding.

God. He’s so screwed. “For what?”

“Getting you to laugh,” Mike says, simple and easy, like he’s reciting times tables instead of proceeding to turn Will’s entire world upside down on its pathetic little axis.

Will feels his lungs stutter on his next inhale. He looks away. “Don’t do that.”

The gleeful expression falters on Mike’s face. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t,” Will says, “don’t– you’re being so– so–”

Mike looks caught somewhere between confusion and amusement. “So what?”

“So,” Will tries again, and then Mike moves closer, and the difficulty of articulating a halfway decent sentence immediately increases tenfold. “So.”

“So,” Mike echoes, shifting so the side of his thigh is pressed up against the side of Will’s. He’s being slowly backed into the corner, but the thought isn’t terrifying like it might have been five minutes ago. Suddenly, Will is overwhelmed in a completely new way. “So what?”

“Nice to me,” Will gets out. “Stop being so nice to me.”

Mike pauses, then says, incredulously and half-laughing– “What? Why?”

Bad choice of words. “You heard me,” Will says anyway, because he’s nothing if not stubborn. “You’re being too nice.”

“I should hope so,” Mike says. “I mean, you’re my friend.”

Maybe Will is imagining it, but the sentence feels unfinished. Like there’s a second half to it that Mike is keeping for himself: You’re my friend – right?

The obvious answer here is that yes, Mike is his friend. But that answer feels unfinished too, like a lie by omission. Will tries to imagine it, doing these things with anyone else – what it would be like if Dustin was holding his hand, or if it were Lucas sitting next to him this close.

The conclusion he comes to, almost immediately, is that it would be weird.

It would be really fucking weird.

That feels like– something. An admission, maybe. Because the fact of the matter is that things with Mike have always been like this, and they’ve never been like this with anyone else, and Will doesn’t think they can be like this with anyone else without it being the most unsettling thing that’s ever happened to him.

The silence, he realizes, has gone on just a second too long.

“Yeah,” he blurts out at last. “Yeah. Obviously.”

Something settles over Mike’s face. “Will–”

“Forget I said anything,” Will backpedals, a little bit desperate. “Never mind. Be as nice to me as you want.”

Mike bites down on his lower lip. It looks like he’s holding back a smile. “As nice as I want?”

Oh, no.

“Sure,” Will tries. “Do your worst.”

Mike lets out a shaky exhale. He presses in further, leans in closer until their shoulders are almost touching. “How about this?”

“That’s not nice,” Will says weakly. “That’s just an invasion of personal space.”

“Seems pretty nice to me,” Mike mutters under his breath.

Will inhales sharply. “Mike.”

“What?”

“What are you– doing,” Will whispers, stumbling over his words, just slightly, as Mike places a hand on his arm.

Mike’s gaze does not waver. “Is this okay?”

Is it okay? Will thinks his brain might be halfway to leaking out through his ears. This is–

This is–

“Yeah,” he hears himself say. “Yeah. Great.”

“Okay,” Mike whispers. He’s so close now that Will could count all the freckles spattered across his nose, if he wanted to. He could, and the thought is dizzying, dizzying – suddenly, it’s not the claustrophobia that’s making him feel like this. It can’t be, because Mike is in front of him, and he’s so close that Will could just lean forward and–

He could just–

“Mike.” And maybe he’s a bit of a broken record, but he can’t come up with any words other than his name. He clutches at Mike’s knee and meets his gaze and prays – to whatever deity allowed him to get trapped in a storage closet with Mike Wheeler two inches away from his face – that Mike Wheeler will find the courage in him somewhere to close the fucking gap.

He doesn’t, though, which is a sign that the universe must be majorly fucking with him. Not yet, anyway. Not anywhere near as fast as Will needs it to be – if this is what he thinks it is, it’s nowhere near fast enough.

In actuality, what it is is excruciating – the way Will’s heart is beating so loud that he’s sure Mike can hear it, in the proximity. The slow circles Mike is tracing over his other hand – the hand that he’s still holding. He’s so close that Will can discern the warmth emanating off him, the familiar scent of soap, can feel Mike’s eyes trained steadily on his mouth, and yet–

Either Mike is actually moving at a speed of one nanosecond per minute, or time has slowed to a near-stop around them. Mike’s grip on his hand is agonizing, caustic in all the places where they’re touching, each slow circle of Mike’s thumb against his wrist driving him slowly and steadily out of his mind. Do it, Will thinks, like maybe if he thinks it loud enough, Mike will be able to hear him. Do it, do it, do it.

Mike’s lips touch his.

The world stops moving.

It must, anyway. Or maybe it’s just that Will doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore – he doesn’t know if he can find it in him to remember how. All he’s aware of is this: Mike’s hands on his arm, his wrist. Mike’s leg under his own palm, warm and steady and pressed up against him in a smooth, unyielding line. The pressure of the wall behind him, the strands of Mike’s hair brushing against his face, and Mike’s lips – gentle, gentle, gentle, and nowhere near enough.

It’s like Mike is waiting for something. Waiting for Will, maybe.

God, okay.

Fuck it, Will thinks, from somewhere far off in his own head. Fuck it. Fuck this.

“Will,” Mike whispers, pulling back a precious few millimeters, and that’s it. That’s all Will can take.

Will lifts his hand off Mike’s leg, raises it to his wrist and tugs. Mike topples into him with a small gasp, Will falls backwards into the wall, and then they’re kissing.

God. Okay.

Mike steadies himself quickly, braces a hand on the wall behind them and leans in, firm and enthusiastic. His hand, Will notices, faintly and with no small amount of affection, is shaking. Just slightly. Will’s trapped between them again – Mike and the wall – but this time he can’t find it in himself to care even the slightest bit. As if there’s anywhere he’d want to go that wasn’t here, as if he’d want to be somewhere without Mike’s hand carding through his hair, or without his lips moving softly against Will’s own, or the noise he makes when Will presses forward, too fast, too eager, too betrayed by his own fluttering pulse – something like a laugh, trapped deep in his chest.

Suddenly, it’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s–

“Mike? Will?”

Shit.

In a flash, Mike pulls away, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked and breathing like he’s just run a marathon.

Shit.

“Yeah,” Mike calls, voice cracking just slightly on the syllable. “We’re in here!”

Shit.

“So,” Will says, aiming for nonchalance. He fails immediately. His voice cracks too. Great. “That–”

Don’t freak out, he thinks. Please don’t freak out.

Mike, to his credit, is not freaking out.

“Yeah,” Mike says, voice a little high-pitched but surprisingly even. He clears his throat. “Um. Yeah. You were–”

“Yeah,” Will finishes, rather lamely. He’s grinning like an idiot. He doesn’t even need to look at himself to tell. His expression is mirrored, perfectly, flawlessly, brilliantly, on Mike’s own face.

The closet door gets thrown open, and there’s a blinding, sudden light– “What the fuck,” Mike exclaims, squinting and throwing a hand up in front of his eyes. “Nancy?”

Jonathan peers around her shoulder. “What were you guys doing in here?”

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t–

Will can’t help it. He looks at Mike, and they immediately burst into laughter.

Shit.

#hiiii quin so sorry but tumblr ate ur og ask #i did immediately memorize it tho bc i read it and i was like Oh Yes #anyways ik u asked for maybe s5 too #and idk why this is where my mind went #there are a million other s5 scenarios that i could've written #but something about byler kissing in dark closets.... haha #yeah <3 #anyways i hope u like this !!#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fun sized fics #also fun fact for anyone who reads my fics #this was rly close to my og concept for ive come home im so cold #like the third chapter #but that story got away from me so #this isn't the Same but its similar !! kind of.#ok bye

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gretavangroupie · 7 months ago

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 18.0k

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

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

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

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

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

Thirteen hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul

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

Fuck, where was this text an hour ago?

You

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

—

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

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

That of course, did not happen.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, okay that plan backfired.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

JAKE POV

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

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

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

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No I haven’t,” you kick back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod slowly. “Yeah… thanks…”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chris…” you answer.

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

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

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

—

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

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

“Drink?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Followin’ you…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh fuck, a song.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

8:31PM: 😎

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

Y/N

8:32PM: 🎸

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

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

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

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

—

HER POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, fuck this cold,” Ty responds.

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

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

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

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

“What? Sorry…”

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

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

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

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

—

JAKE POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does that mean?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You slowly shake your head back and forth.

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

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

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

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

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

You bite at your cheek as you nod your head. You know he’s right, of course he’s right. But you also know it’s just a little bit more complicated than that. The bartender slides you a fresh soda water, and as you pinch the lime between your fingers you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You drop the lime into the bubble water and take a quick drink as you pull your phone from your coat pocket.

Y/N

11:46PM: Not drinking tonight?

You look over your shoulder knowing she is watching you, and you catch sight of her sitting at a cocktail table a couple of feet away with Wes and Corrine. Her eyes are locked on yours, a skinny straw between her teeth. You send her a playful smirk as you turn back to your phone, replying to her message.

You

11:47PM: Not tonight, I have other plans…

You look at her as you pocket your phone, watching her face twist into a mischievous smile as she turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and grin before turning back to continue listening to Josh and Ty. You can feel her eyes on you and you have to admit it feels good. You feel like things might actually be okay between the two of you if you can continue to play your cards right.

“So do you wanna hit up that one place with the crazy wine list when we get to France? It was in Paris Metro, right?” Josh asks, tapping your arm with his hand.

You know the exact place he is talking about, but right now your mind is somewhere else completely. “Oh, yeah yeah, it is. It was close to that tiny ass venue, remind me and I’ll look it up tomorrow on the flight.”

“Anywhere else you want to go? I think we have a day or two off while we’re there,” he asks, still trying to grab your full attention.

“Um, maybe I’ll stop in to that rarity shop, see if they have anything interesting this time around,” you answer, doing your best to focus.

“Oh shit, yeah, that’s where you got that crazy old guitar, right? From like the early 1900’s or whatever?”

“Yeah, exactly. Had to completely unstring the fucker to get it home without it snapping in two,” you laugh, remembering the hassle.

“Any…other plans while in the city of love?” he croons, bumping shoulders with Ty.

You look over your shoulder to check your surroundings before answering. You place your hand roughly on his shoulder and shake him a bit, “I guess that will depend on tonight, now won’t it?”

The two of you laugh as you notice commotion at the end of the bar. You turn yourself to look, only to find Lyla walking towards you with her phone to her ear.

“Jake?” she says, stepping up to you in a huff. She pulls the phone away from her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s Isla, she said you aren’t answering your phone, and I know I just saw you on it?”

Fucking hell Isla.

You know you have to take the call, because if you do it now, there’s no chance of it happening later. You snatch the phone from her hand, holding it to your ear and exhaling an aggravated breath. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s up? I don’t know, Jake. You tell me what’s up! You aren’t answering any of my texts, you turned off your location days ago, you said you’d call me and you haven’t! Tell me what is going on!” she shouts into the phone.

“Nothing is going on, Isla! I am at work, working, on tour. You know the thing that pays the bills? Also, I’m in a different country, a different time zone. But you know what, I know you aren’t stupid. You know all of this, so what’s up? What is so important that you had to call someone else to get ahold of me?”

You see Josh push past Lyla, grabbing you by the shoulders, “Hey I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing you backwards. You pull the phone away from your ear to hear him. He stares into your eyes, silently telling you to go with it.

“Oh, I have to go Isla, sorry. Here’s Lyla,” you say, pushing the phone back into Lyla’s hands.

Lyla is staring you down as Josh finally stops, letting go of your shoulders. “I uh, I need you to go run an errand for me. Well, I need Y/N to go run an errand for me, but I need Dean to stay here to field those girls in the lobby, so I was wondering if you could accompany her?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“What?” you ask, admittedly very confused.

“Yeah, just walk with me,” he says, walking you over towards the tables. “I need you to go run this errand—” he pauses, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear him. “Okay, yeah there is no errand.”

You send him yet another completely bewildered look.

“There’s no errand, just…I don’t know, get out of here before someone asks questions. Go. Take her with you. She already knows and she thinks there is an errand,” he smiles smugly, “You can thank me later.”

For a moment you hesitate, unsure if you should go with his harebrained idea, but you decide to do it, knowing that he really only has your best interest at heart. He pretends to show you something on his phone, and you nod like you understand. You exhale a breath and nod towards him, “Yep, I’ll take care of that for you.”

“Yeah, perfect. Make sure you do a good job,” he quips, the meaning definitely not lost on you.

You toss your hand towards him as you walk away, locking eyes with Y/N who is waiting near the door. You swallow down your nerves and make your way towards her, ready to make amends.

“You uh, ready to go?” you ask, playing along with the charade. You pull the door open and allow her to step out first into the dimly lit hallway of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I just… Did he tell you what he needed or anything?” she asks, a confused look on her face. You laugh to yourself and purse your lips before answering.

“Well, he doesn’t need anything. He kinda… bent the truth a bit to give us a chance to leave alone,” you answer honestly.

A hum leaves her lips, as she stops in place turning to face you, “And how do you know that I want to leave with you?”

There's a playful grin on her face, but there's also a tinge of truth to her tone. You can’t read her, but you give it your best shot.

“Well, I have a pretty good feeling about it, but please enlighten me if I am mistaken,” you answer.

She rocks back onto the heels of her shoes, turning to continue walking, “I see, are these those ‘other plans’ you were talking about?”

You bite your lips together and turn to look at her, “That remains to be seen, I suppose.”

The two of you start to approach the elevator bank, and you know you need to make your move. She hasn’t said much, or really given you any indication of whether she is into this playful little game or not, so you decide to cut your losses and leave the ball in her court.

“I’m gonna go up to my room for the night. You can come up and join me for a night cap, or you can head back to your own room. Completely your choice, but if you decide to join me, I’m in room 507,” you finish, stopping just shy of the elevators. You give her a smile and nod your head before continuing to walk to the waiting elevator.

Your heart is racing as you step inside, wondering if she is going to follow you, or better yet take you up on your offer. You press the button for floor five and watch as the doors close, a rush of nerves spreading through your body. You shake out your hands and pull your phone from your pocket seeing a myriad of missed calls and texts from Isla. You muted her notifications after everything last night, and you know that’s what prompted her call to Lyla.

You tap your keycard to the door and step inside, the cool air of the AC hitting you like a brick wall. You step over and turn on the heat, needing the room to be at least a few degrees warmer. You take all of your things out of your pockets and deposit them on the nightstand, deciding to take Josh’s advice and power off your phone completely. You toss your jacket onto the small couch, removing the hair tie from your finger and tying your hair up into a knot. You reach for a bottle of water from the mini bar, downing what had to be half of it as you start to pace the room.

You wonder if maybe she’s texted, or added a song, anything to give you some kind of indication of her answer, but you know that your phone is off and that you’re just going to have to wait this out the old fashioned way. You kick off your boots and push them to the side of your suitcase, digging around inside of it to change clothes, but deciding to wait just a little bit longer, just in case. You unbutton your shirt though, letting it hang open on your body as you step away from your suitcase.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the flashing clock on the nightstand and watching as the numbers flash as they change. Fuck, maybe she really isn’t coming.

You lay back, completely spread across the fluffy white sheets letting out a sigh of exhaustion. The past two days have drained you. Mentally, physically… You felt like you could sleep for three days straight given the opportunity. You let your eyes flutter closed for just a second, and that's when you heard it. The tiniest knock on the door. Any softer and you wouldn’t have heard it, chalking it up to your brain playing tricks on you.

You sat up instantly, listening for it again, and sure enough another set of small knocks echoed through the room.

Holy shit, she came.

You shoot up from the bed, smoothing out your hair and shaking out your arms. You were nervous, you’d admit that, but you were also bound and determined to make tonight better than the last. You’d thought of nothing else, since.

—

HER POV

The sound of a little bit of rustling inside the door causes your heart to pick up speed, the sudden clarity of what you’re doing hitting you across the face. Sure, last night you’d been in a similar circumstance, but tonight…things feel different. Your second set of knocks on his door has finally jostled him.

You hear the door knob turn and Jake opens it, hiding a little bit behind it as he invites you inside.

“Hey,” he says, his voice raspy. “Didn’t think you were gonna come up.”

You walk inside the room, smelling the remnants of the cologne he spritzed on before he came down to the bar still lingering in the air. “I almost didn’t, but, I think…we need to talk about a few things…” you reply, awkwardly holding your hands together at your stomach as he closes the door behind you. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you finally catch sight of him, his black button-down undone all the way, and his hair tied back in a low knot at his neck. Jesus Christ, he’s a sight, even when he isn’t even trying.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he agrees, patting the half-made bed for you to sit on. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning to the mini fridge.

“Ah, no, I’m okay, thank you,” you reply, finally setting your purse down on the bed beside you. Things feel a bit different now as you’re both sober and serious, about to discuss something so inherently embarrassing it was almost too painful to even think about. But it has to be done, suck it up, and get it over with so that you can get on with the night…right?

“Yeah, me neither,” he agrees. You watch as he pulls a pair of sweatpants from his bag. “Care if I go change real quick?” he asks, erring on the side of etiquette for some reason, when last night you both saw more of each other than you’d really planned on.

“No, go ahead,” you say, and he slips into the bathroom. You take this second to take off your thick denim jacket and hang it on the back of a chair, and also remove your shoes and socks and place them neatly beside the door. You’re left in the comfy tight t-shirt dress, and you try to remind yourself that last night never even happened. It wasn’t real. Be cool.

You relax back on the pillows a little as you strive to get comfortable on the bed, not wanting to seem too relaxed but also be nonchalant, like this conversation was about to be the simplest thing you’d ever done. You tuck your barren legs up underneath you, leaning on your elbow against the thick white pile of pillows.

He finally emerges, now clad in a pair of dark gray sweatpants that are hugging his hips, and he’s completely devoid of a shirt at all. Before you can drink him in all the way, he’s sitting on the bed in front of you, crossing his legs and reaching for the remote, muting the TV.

You sit up to meet him, suddenly surprised at the amount of attention he’s paying you. He takes both of your hands into his, clammy but warm on your skin, and brings them to gather in his lap.

“Y/N,” he begins, “I don’t want to talk about this just as much as you probably don’t, but… I think I have some explaining to do,” he starts, his voice just a tad bit shaky as you know he is about to bare it all.

“I feel absolutely terrible about how things ended up last night. That was…not me, at all. I’d had too much to drink, and my phone was being the annoying piece of shit that it is… anyway, I’m not trying to make excuses.” He squeezes your hands and scoots himself a little closer to you, still staring directly into your eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but. You’ve got me caught up, and…it’s not something I’m used to, Y/N,” he giggles, making you smirk back.

“Last night should have had a different outcome completely, and I blame myself for it. You can blame me for it, too. I just want you to know I’m sorry, and you were… fuck, you were beyond perfect—”

You cut him off, “You’re sure it wasn’t anything I’d done?”

“No! No no, you were fucking…flawless, Y/N. My vision may have been a bit blurry but you had it all. You have it all. Absolutely everything. And I feel like such a fucking dick that I didn’t get to…repay you. Give it back to you… you deserved more, and I’m…mortified. Humiliated over it. I wanted to dig a hole and cover myself up and never ever come out of it, honestly. I still do. It’s like the worst thing that can— anyway, you deserve to be treated right, you deserve to be shown the same kind of effort you were showing me last night…” you feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

You lean a little into his hand, the feeling of his touch making you flutter with butterflies. “…And I haven’t thought of another goddamn thing since.”

You giggle a little. “Come on now,” you say shyly. “You’re a famous rock star, there’s no way your mind’s been taken up with me all day. I’m probably the lowest on your list of past flings.” You’re honest in your admission of feelings, but you secretly hope it will just fuel him to keep talking.

“No, think again, Y/N.” His voice suddenly deepens. “That’s absolutely untrue.” His fingertips trickle to the back of your neck. “The way your hips felt in my hands, the way you took over control and put matters into your own hands…fuck. And your mouth…” his thumb is pressing a little harder, now. “Yeah, I haven’t had a clean thought all day, if we’re being honest,” he laughs. You pull one hand away from his grip and place it on his knee, squeezing it just a little as your bodies slowly inch closer and closer in toward one another.

“I’ve never met another woman that’s captivated me so quickly before,” he continues, his breaths now shorter and chopped as he speaks. “You came in and fucked my whole world up, Y/N… You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years. You make me nervous…”

Your faces are within inches now as you return his gaze, listening to him talk. Your hand drifts higher on his thigh, gently squeezing at the muscle as it climbs. His hand is still firmly gripping your face, the ends of his fingertips now tickling at your hairline. You can feel the tingles going up and down your spine like flashing lights, each word that escapes from his mouth setting the next one on fire.

Finally you speak. “Look, Jake, you don’t have to explain anything else to me. I realize that something was off last night, and that isn’t how things probably go for you normally. I’ve felt our chemistry, and there’s something…there, ya know? And honestly there for a few minutes, we actually had things going, and I think we had it figured out. You felt…” you bite your lips together, feeling a little shy. “You felt really fucking good. But I don’t want you to be embarrassed or upset with yourself. We’re adults, and I’m aware that shit happens. Not every time can be perfect. You were still on my mind all day long, today. Been hoping you would text me, something,” you go on, feeling his fingertips grip and release your hair every few seconds.

A sly smile creeps to his lips as you watch his eyes squint. He looks relieved, but there’s also something else. “I hope you know that I’m more than capable of…making you feel good, and I’d really like it if you’d give me a second chance to redeem myself. I wanna prove it to you.”

You can do nothing but nod your head, feeling the magnetism of his pull bringing you forward, both of your chests heaving with want for each other now. You’re absolutely dying to touch him, reach out and feel the electricity radiating from his body, but you stop yourself. You’re going to let him make the first move.

You exhale onto him, letting the thick, hot air from your lungs dance across his lips as he releases your other hand, letting it come up to cup your other cheek. Your foreheads balance on one another’s, and you can feel the palpable tension building up second by second.

“Thank you, for hearing me out,” he whispers onto your lips, before gently pressing them onto yours, an almost featherlight peck. You both pull back for a second, taking a final look at one another before you crash into each other’s mouths again, heated, fiery, and wanting.

Your other hand grips his thigh, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from pouncing on him, laying him back into the sheets and devouring him, but you hold back. You want to take your time, and you know he wants to do this the right way.

The kiss deepens, your tongues reaching far to taste every bit that they can. His hands slowly drift from your jawline to your shoulders and finally to your chest, lightly letting his fingertips descend before resting again on your hips. You’re both still sitting cross-legged on the bed, your knees touching each other’s as you each lean in. You want to make the next move, but again, you want to let him steer this ship as much as he wants to.

So for the moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss, concentrating and honing in on committing every detail of it to your memory. He’s not forceful, but he doesn’t hold back, either. It’s the perfect mix of control and submission, and you haven’t even moved past the most basic part yet. His hands move again, sneaking under your legs to pull you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sit on his lap.

Your chests are pressed together now, heaving and already breathless. You can feel that he’s excited below you; thankfully things are already going way better than they were last night. You continue to devour one another, touching and feeling and pulling every piece of him that you could, and him doing the same in return. A quick visual pops into your mind- you’d worn a skimpy little red lace thong just in case, and now you’re silently thanking yourself for the choice, knowing that when the time comes, he’s going to go absolutely insane at the sight of you in it.

You take a second to pull away, grinding yourself down onto him as you trail lovebites down his neck and shoulder, and the sounds that growl from his chest make your nails dig into his skin. He hisses a little bit, but you’re more than positive that he likes the sensation. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto him again, making you take complete notice that he wants you just as badly. He leans his neck sideways as your tongue drifts from his collarbone up his jugular, the artery pulsing hard beneath your lips. You bite it lightly before continuing up to his ear, gently taking his ear lobe between your teeth.

You feel him pull back and laugh a little through his nose, and you’re sure you’ve found a sensitive spot. You grind yourself onto him again, this time pulling a full on groan from him. You leave your mouth hovering over his ear, blowing tiny bits of cold air onto the trail of saliva you’d left behind.

“I feel you, baby…” you whisper, allowing yourself the satisfaction of using a pet name for the very first time. His body language shifts, all his muscles tightening as you speak. “Wanna feel you more…” you mutter quietly, making his dick twitch between your legs. You could feel your warmth on the bulge of his sweatpants, and you secretly wish he would get on with it.

“You wanna do this…” he whispers back, his voice tight and gravely.

You nod hard, completely positive that you were going to go ahead with this second chance. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…”

Finally, he reaches down to grip your thighs, squeezing his palms over them before gripping the hem of your dress, rolling it up over your hips, your chest, and finally over your head. Your arms fly up to help him remove the dress completely before he lets it fall to the floor beside you. His eyes black out with lust, his jaw falling open at the sight of you only in your bra and panties. He saw you like this last night, of course, but things are different now. Each of you has something to prove.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he says, immediately burying his face between your breasts, rolling his tongue just beneath the thin fabric of your black bra. “Who knew you had all this hiding…” His hands reach up and grip the material, pulling it down to reveal your tits, bouncing and standing at attention for him. His hands waste no time rolling across them, kneading the muscle as your head falls back. His fingers massage your nipples and pull at the skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. God, you swear you could get off just from this…

He puts his right hand at the center of your sternum, pressing you back gently until you’re laid out on the bed. He scrambles to his knees, finally hovering over you a little. He lets his fingers glide from your chest down your stomach, finally hooking in the hem of your thong. He doesn’t pull it off, though… Instead he runs his fingers along the hem, around your hip, and to your asscheek, using his leverage and grip on the muscle to yank you back down toward him.

Your knee bends on its own from the motion, causing your legs to part a little as your core hits his knee. He bends down, laying sweet kisses to your stomach and hips, causing you to buck up and whine with every tiny little touch.

“Please Jake…” you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you soon, your core absolutely throbbing with want for him. Last night, you felt these same feelings. You felt this pull to him, this need. But after how it all went down, sitting there on your bed staring at the wall was the only reaction that seemed plausible… no post-sex afterglow, no blissful body aches… just an unsatisfied and discouraged feeling of letdown.

But now, twenty-four hours later, as you feel your body being pulled into him and touched by him again, you want nothing more than to replicate those few minutes of really good sex that you’d been able to achieve last night. Your body was practically begging you to let him have it.

You hear the air kick on in the room, and though you know it’s the heat, you still feel the blow of the fan forcing air across your nearly nude body. You feel chill bumps cover your entire body as you shudder a little.

“Fuck, got cold in here, didn’t it,” Jake breathes, shivering a little bit himself. “Come on, let’s get under the covers.” You don’t argue with him, feeling a chill diving down deep into your bones.

You sit up as he stands, pulling the heavy white linens back for you to get under. “Wait,” you say, walking on your knees back toward him. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, returning to kissing him hard as you pull them and his boxers all the way off. He smiles onto your lips, falling sideways a little as he trips over them around his ankles. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace as your hands tangle in his hair, gripping into it as you pull him back down onto the bed with you.

You both slide underneath and cozy up, letting the warmth come over you and calm you back down again. It’s the sight of him, though, crawling into the bed with his eyes trained on you, fully nude with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth that sends you over the edge. Suddenly your chest is heavy and your eyes are glazed with lust, that blinding feeling of carnal need setting into your lower abdomen. You don’t feel this feeling much, but when you do, you know that what you’re about to experience will be nothing short of mind blowing…it’s like the universe knows you need to let go of all human emotion if you’re going to let your body experience the interaction just as it is.

Suddenly you find yourself flipped up and straddling his legs, pulling the comforter over your head as you descend down his body. “Whoa whoa, where you going?” he smirks, his smile crooked as his hands balance by his head.

“You can prove the rest to me in a minute. I never got to finish this part last night…” you say, disappearing into the darkness of the covers. You hear his laugh fall out as an exasperated huff, but he knows better than to stop you. You put your fingertips on the insides of his thighs, pushing them away from one another as you lightly tickle your nails up them, stopping short as you take his fully-hard dick in your palm, slowly working it from bottom to top.

“Thereeeee you are…” you sing in a teasing tone. Fuck yeah, there he is. This is what you felt that night in the bathroom. This is the him that wasn’t out to play last night.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hear him laugh lowly, gently patting a hand against your cheek. You can’t see him, but you know the exact expression that’s probably on his face right now.

You squeeze him as you work your hand, gently letting your lips graze his head as you stick your tongue out a little, barely wetting the tip. You taste his saltiness on your tongue, a tell-tale sign that he is absolutely ready for whatever else the night has to bring. You let the flavor sit on your tongue for a second before you take him down completely, knowing that if he has any memory of you doing this last night, it was probably spotty, at best.

“Fuck, baby…shit…” he says from the head of the bed, his thighs clenching together a little as his hands dip under the blankets to tangle in your hair. You begin to go to work, feeling halfway happy you are hiding away, able to perform without his watchful eye, but also a little sad he isn’t getting to see the show you’re putting on for him.

Like he can hear your thoughts, he speaks again, “What, you not gonna let me watch you?” He asks with a little demand in his tone, pushing the sheets up over your head to finally make eye contact. You decide to capitalize on it, fluttering your eyelashes as you take him as far as he can go, letting his tip graze the back of your throat. If he wants to watch, you’re going to give him something worth watching.

His reaction is warranted as you see him lose composure for a second, letting his head tilt back into the pillows as his jaw falls open and he lets out a cry that will be playing in the back of your mind until you fall asleep tonight. His hand tightens in your hair while the other one scoops up what has fallen in front of your face, moving it away from your mouth. His teeth grit hard as his hand pulls your hair, lifting you off and back down onto him just a little bit.

Your imagination starts to soar; it’s been a while since you’ve had a good romp, and after the letdown of last night and Jake promising to give you a good run tonight, you decide to keep the show rolling. You pop your lips off of him letting him drop your hair, spinning yourself around backwards to straddle him that way. Again, you thank yourself for the everything shower and shave this morning, knowing that now, the thin strip of red lace fabric is the only thing covering you as your ass is fully on display in front of his face.

Is it an invitation? Kind of…he said he wants to show off for you…right?

“God damn, girl…” he says through another rasp, his hand gripping your asscheek as you take him in your mouth again. You sway your hips side to side, arching your back to give him a full view of you. You feel the slightest tinge of embarrassment at your somewhat bold switch up, but after feeling his reaction and the actual pounding of the blood pumping through his dick, you know it’s all worth it.

Finally, after a string of curses from his mouth behind you, you feel his fingers slip under the thong, pulling it to the side as his fingers begin to explore you. First soft and gentle, but then switching to more of a rhythm as he feels how soaked you are. You moan onto his dick, letting your stomach fall into his as you lean back into his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby, just like last night. Gonna take care of you, I swear it…” he grumbles. His thumb finds your clit after pulling your wetness down to coat it, his digits slipping and sliding as he uses more pressure.

You whimper loudly without warning, the fire burning in your belly finding you more quickly than you’d anticipated.

You pop your mouth off of him for a breath, and he takes the second of separation to grab both of your hips, pulling you backward toward him. His tongue swipes once from your clit to your opening before he slides himself underneath you in one quick motion, pulling you down to be completely seated on his face.

Oh, there we go…

Should you do it? Should you go all in?

You only have a few seconds to toss it over in your mind before his hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down onto him even more. Yeah, he wants you to. His mouth is immediately connected to you, his tongue outstretched and licking over you as your hands balance on his stomach. “Fuuuuccckk…” you whine at a high-pitched tone, letting your head tilt back on your shoulders.

He’s wasting nothing at all. No time, no contact, no area of you goes untouched by his mouth. You begin swirling your hips, picking up a little every few seconds as you grind onto his tongue. It’s hot, but you still feel the chill of the air in the room, causing you to break out in another rush of goosebumps from the air and the pleasure. You catch a small glimpse of the two of you in the hotel room mirror, the visual more than you can bear as his tongue flicks across your sensitive bud again.

“Jake…shit…if you keep doing that…” your nails dig into his pecs again as you begin to feel your knees burning, your hips swirling and bouncing as he holds you steadily connected with his mouth. Even when you try to pull off to give him a breather, he pats your thighs with his fingertips, telling you to come back down.

“Mmmhm…” he agrees, shaking his face against you, the slight prickle of his mustache a blissful roughness on your sensitive spots. “Lemme have it, baby…” he works out, bending one knee up to sturdy himself. You can hear the pants of breath he’s taking as he talks before yanking your body weight right back down onto him again.

Your vision is beginning to blur as you feel the tightness forming in your stomach, every inch of you on fire as you feel the release building and building. Your movements become chopped and faulty, and just as you’re about to lose all composure, Jake grips the back elastic of your thong, letting the stretchy material snap back against your skin. The tinge of pain sends you toppling over the edge, your entire body shaking and trembling as everything goes white. He continues his work, his tongue still snaking and swirling in the most animalistic way, letting you ride through it until you’re back on earth.

When you’re finally able to breathe again, you lean forward onto all fours so he can sit up all the way, and instead of crashing back down beside him, all you want to do is give him more. Let him give you more. That was just a preview. Now…you want him. You need to feel him inside of you again.

You turn in the bed, catching sight of his face covered in your slick…his lips pink and blotchy as he runs his hands across his face. You inch your way back over to him, using your own palm to wipe from his forehead down to his chin, twisting your fingers over his chin to bring his face crashing onto yours again. You let your tongue sink into his mouth, tasting yourself as you kiss him with everything you have.

Your hands are all over each other as he takes you in one arm, pulling you back underneath the covers with him again. “I can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Y/N…I need you right the fuck now.”

You’re lying beneath him now, still riding the high of your overwhelmingly good orgasm, but quickly making your way back up to arousal again with the sight of him so wanting for you. His state is almost pathetic, the look on his face pitiful but commanding as his jaw clenches over and over again.

Your hands are attached to his sides as he reaches into the floor for his pants from earlier, pulling out a little square package. You notice it’s a different kind than the one he had last night, and you’re thankful he’s switched brands.

“Hurry, Jake…” you say, your heart pounding in your ears. You watch as he rips the wrapper in half with his teeth, removing the colored condom and spitting the trash onto the floor. He’s sat back on his haunches and you perk up onto your elbows, using one hand to help him slide it over himself, completely hard and ready for you.

You feel like you could spontaneously combust at any second, the need for him stronger than anything you’ve felt in a long, long time. The way he looks sitting between your parted knees, adoring every inch of you as he swallows down any inhibition or doubt that he’s still holding onto from the embarrassment of last night.

He takes a second more to place his hands on your knees, letting them drift down between your legs as he connects his two middle fingers to swirl your clit again. Your legs part even further as he kisses you again, finally towering over you completely before removing his hand, grabbing himself and lining up with you.

“Show me again…” you whisper into his ear, his hair completely falling all over your face. It’s mere seconds before you feel him gently press into you, only an inch or two before retracting his hips, letting out a calming exhale before he presses forward again, this time a little further. The stretch is blowing your mind already, your nails traveling down his back to grip his ass, willing him to fill you to the hilt.

“Easy, baby…just take it as I give it to you,” he growls in your ear, and his commanding words make you cease your movements altogether, releasing your strong grip on his back.

“No no…keep doing that, though…fuck, keep doing that…” he begs, touching his forehead to yours. His brows are pinched together, his tongue darting out to lick his lips every few seconds as his eyelids flutter open and closed. You do as he says, digging your nails into him as he thrusts slowly, each time a little further in.

The sensation is overwhelming, taking away every single one of your senses and directing them toward what he is making you feel right now. The noises you already can’t stop yourself from making are bouncing off the walls as you look behind him, watching his hips move the covers as he fills you, over and over until he finally bottoms out.

“God…fuck, Jake….” You both make pathetic sounds as he pauses there, letting himself feel you wholly. He pulls up, taking a rutted breath as he makes desperate eye contact with you. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss, eliciting a high pitched wail from him as he starts picking up a pace.

He breaks away after a second or two, “‘m not gonna go easy on you, baby…let me know if I need to slow down…” his words rip through your chest as if you’d just gotten a shot to the heart. You shake your head side to side.

“Lemme see it, come on…” you pant, already feeling your muscles doing their best to pull him in as far as your body will let him.

He picks up the pace now, jutting his hips deeply into you. The feeling is making your head feel cloudy and dense, but the pleasure filling your bloodstream is the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. He pauses, sitting up a little to toss your leg over his shoulder, slowing down just a little bit as he hits from a different angle. This one is deeper and titled a little, and you can feel the tip of him grazing your cervix with every push.

He can tell your facial expression has changed as he slows down again, almost to a complete stop. “What baby, you okay?” he asks.

“No no, yeah, don’t stop…please…” you motion with your hand for him to continue, the sickening pleasure mixed with the tightening pain, a blissful concoction that is hard to admit you love. But you do. You love it all.

His pace becomes furious again as he picks up where he left off, your leg draped over his shoulder as he has one hand over your knee, and the other gripping into the muscle of your thigh. He’s squeezing so hard, and his hips are pounding at such a forceful pace that you’re sure he is leaving bruises, but they’ll be bruises that you accept without argument, admiring them as you look in the mirror tomorrow.

He’s everything, right now…his eyes delving deep into yours as you drink him in, letting your sounds let him know how good he’s making you feel. How perfect you fit, how much better this is going than it did last night…

Suddenly he pulls all the way out of you, lifting your body to flip onto your stomach. His hands are under your hips, pulling them back again just the same as he had done earlier, but this time he hops to the floor, pulling you back again to meet him on the edge. “Hold on, baby,” he instructs, and you do, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists as you feel him enter you from behind, this time.

The height couldn’t be more perfect as this new position makes you drop your face to the mattress, fully surrendering yourself to him. You haven’t felt anything like him before, each and every move he makes is making your nerve endings burn with fire.

He lays a harsh smack to your ass, and you grunt in rebuttal, letting the delicious pain surge through your muscle. His pace quickens again, and his hand is on the back of your neck, pinning his fingers to either side of your throat from behind. “Fuck yes…” you breathe out, your eyes beginning to fill with clouds.

You hear the smack of his lips, knowing that he’d just wet his finger, and suddenly his other hand quickly finds your clit again, swirling tiny circles on it and sending you into a whole new wave of satisfaction. Your cries push out with every thrust, and you feel like you’re on the verge of tears. It’s all overwhelming and encompasses your every thought, the sounds of your bodies hitting together making it all even more devious when you close your eyes, imagining the scene.

He continues this way for a minute or so, the sounds of your bodies smacking together building up your second orgasm on their own.

Then, he’s pulling your torso up, your back meeting his chest as he slows the pace of his thrusts, but never letting up on the swirl of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…so perfect…” his words are calm now as he begins kissing your neck, still pumping in and out of you. His arm wraps around your front, pulling you back into him so you don’t collapse forward. He can tell you’re close.

“Jake…I’m almost…” you breathe, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“Me too, baby. Keep squeezing me just like that…” he asks as a whisper in your ear, his mouth still connected to your neck, his other hand gripping your tit.

With a particularly pointed flick to your clit, and a deep thrust, your entire world is crumbling beneath you, your body falling to pieces as you let it all go. His fingers squeeze your nipple hard, sending that sensation into overdrive. He isn’t far behind as his grip tightens all over you, his pace now rutted and messy as you hear him groaning in your ear. The entire world goes quiet for a minute as you hit the peak of your highs together, rendering both of you speechless as you hold your breath.

“Motherfucker…” he says as he finally comes back down, releasing you to fall forward onto the bed. All of your muscles are limp and lifeless as he collapses beside you, both of you too sweaty now to care about cuddling back up together.

“Yeah, mother fucker,” you laugh, pulling away a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead and cheek. “That’s was…you were…” you open your mouth to find the words, but they simply don’t come.

He props up on his elbows, kissing a sweet peck onto your shoulder. “I don’t know what you were going to say, but I agree…” he chuckles. “You’re near goddamn perfect, Y/N.”

“Near?! What do you mean, near?!” you joke, shoving his mouth off of your shoulder.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Fuckin’ amazing, is what I meant. Flawless in every single way,” he says, his cheeks turning the sweetest shade of crimson.

You take turns in the bathroom cleaning up, and you can’t wipe the smile that’s permanently plastered to your face. He’d done it all, he’d proven himself to you, in the most mind-blowing way you could have dreamt up. You don’t want to admit it, but you can see yourself getting caught up by Jake just as he admitted he is caught up by you. And after sex like that, well…

You begin to pick up your things from the floor and redress just as he is coming out of the bathroom. “No no, where are you going?” he asks, his tone a little let down.

“I’m…going back to my room…” you say, caught off guard.

“No. Stay here, please? After that I– I don’t know, I don’t want you to go,” he says. “Please stay.”

You laugh, tossing your shoes back into the corner. “You sure? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?”

He scoffs. “The fuck would I get in trouble for?”

“I’m your employee, Jake…” you remind him.

His face contorts up. “I don’t like how that sounds, remember.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a large white t-shirt, tossing it your way. You pull it over your head as he flips the light off, pulling the disheveled sheets back again for you both to climb into. You have to admit, you’re glad he asked you to stay, as you’re not sure if your tired muscles would have liked walking down the long hall to the elevator.

He pulls you in to spoon him, turning on the TV to the guide channel. His body feels perfectly aligned with yours as his hand rests on the outside of your thigh, the other propping his head up above yours.

“You’re a woman that I’ve taken a keen interest in, and am enjoying pursuing, and well, occasionally sleeping with every now and then. Who sometimes goes on errands for us,” he says in retaliation, making you giggle.

“…and your company also signs my paychecks,” you retort.

He hisses in a quick breath. “Ehhhh yeah, I guess you’re right. But just, I don’t like how it sounds. So quit saying it like that.” He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, sealing in his words.

“Okay, okay,” you agree.

After a few minutes, he speaks again through a yawn. “So, did I prove myself? Was my attempt at redemption enough to make you forget last night ever even happened?” he asks.

You close your eyes as you press your ass into his groin again, making him hop back a little in surprise. “Jake, I told myself last night never even happened as soon as you left my room,” you admit, and you are telling the truth. “I knew there was no way…”

You hear him huff a tiny laugh, “You had some faith in me, baby?”

Your blood runs a little hotter every time he calls you baby, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t completely enamor you.

You twist your body beneath his hand to lay on your back. You fluff the pillow beneath your head, feeling his free hand move to assist you in finding the perfect position. His right hand doesn’t leave your body though, sliding just under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare stomach. “Maybe just a little.”

JAKE POV

Her skin is warm beneath your hand, her body still cooling down after the activities of the last hour. It was perfect. Every single thing you ever wanted it to be and even a little more. She is perfect. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you saw her grabbing her things, there was no way you could let her leave this room thinking that this was just sex. I mean, yeah maybe that was your intention tonight, but there was something else. You know that the sex wouldn’t have been what it was if there wasn’t something more lying beneath the surface. You wanted her to stay here with you. You wanted to hold her and be with her and enjoy the afterglow.

Even in the dark room you can’t take your eyes off of her. The way the TV is flashing blue light across her face she almost looks angelic. You let your fingers trace tiny circles into her skin as you look at her, completely enamored with every single detail of her. You reach for the remote flipping through the channels looking for anything you could mindlessly fall asleep to.

“Should I pick something and show you what a good movie looks like?” you tease, tickling your fingers into her stomach.

“I know what good movies are, thank you very much,” she quips, turning her head to look at you. Her eyes are shiny as they look into yours, lingering for just a second before flicking back to the TV.

Her hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, your face falling into her touch on its own accord.

“Hey…” she whispers, waiting for you to look at her. “Tell me why you were so in your head yesterday.”

Fuck. Do you tell her? Do you tell her the real reason? Do you risk ruining this moment with the truth?

“Ahh…It was a lot of things. Tour, traveling, the drinking, obviously. Also just a lot of pressure to do this and do that…or, don’t do this, and don’t do that. It’s hard sometimes, living this lifestyle. It’s incredibly isolating, and after a while you almost start to lose touch with what’s real,” you answer, skirting around the real reason.

She rolls to face you, not letting her hand leave your jaw as she presses a soft, delicate kiss to your lips. You feel your whole body relax into her, feeling a peace come over you that you haven’t felt in a long time. A kiss that told you she understands.

“I’m here, and this is real and you don’t have to feel isolated anymore, if you don’t want to,” she breathes.

You kiss her again, pulling her into you just a little closer. “I don’t want to.”

“Good,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours.

She drops her hand and nuzzles her face into your neck, a soft sigh falling from her lips. You know she’s tired, because you’re tired. You let your own head fall back onto the pillows, your arm wrapped around her shoulders as she snuggles into your side. You can’t help but let Josh’s words from yesterday float through your mind. You wonder if what you are doing is wrong, if you should make sure Isla knows you two are done before pursuing Y/N any further. Though, it’s a little too late for that.

You push it away as you feel Y/N drifting off to sleep on your chest, but now your mind is racing and you need to quiet it. You reach over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and powering it back on. You’re immediately met with about ten missed calls and too many texts to count. You quickly open them, clearing out the notifications but paying no mind to what they say. Instead you open your shared playlist, the perfect song coming to mind.

You sneakily add ‘Are You Satisfied?’ by Reignwolf to the playlist, knowing she will get a laugh out of that when she sees it. You turn your face to her head, letting your lips brush the crown of her head as you breathe her in. The feeling of her next to you and her deep rhythmic breathing is starting to slow your busy mind. You lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand, turning off the TV and letting your eyes close. You replay the night in your head, every perfect second of it, praying that it will make an appearance in your dreams tonight.

—

You aren’t sure what woke you, maybe the heat of the room, or the slamming of the door in the hallway. Your eyes pop open, scratchy and dry as they adjust to the darkness of the room. You immediately feel Y/N next to you, no longer on your chest but her legs still tangled with yours. Your heart swells at the vision of her curled up in the bed next to you.

You reach out for your phone, tapping the screen to see what time it is. 4:46AM.

You see that a new song has been added to your shared playlist, and you smile knowing that Y/N must have woken up sometime during the night and saw your addition. You tap the notification and bring up the playlist to see what she added, letting a small laugh leave your lips as it loads. ‘Whatta Man’ by Salt-n-Pepa was added two hours ago. She’s so fucking cute you could hardly stand it. You had half a mind to wake her up and show her all over again just how much you wanted her.

However, when you close out of the playlist a new round of missed calls graces your screen, along with a seemingly endless string of texts from Isla. You let out a sigh as you tap the message icon to see what she could possibly need this badly.

Opening the messages you see a link to Danny’s close friends story sent at nearly one in the morning. You furrow your brow and tap on the video, seeing Sam and Lyla taking tequila shots together, but of course in the background of the video just barely noticeable, is you leaving the bar with Y/N.

Goddamnit Daniel.

Isla

1:12AM: Who the fuck that girl Jake?

Isla

1:25AM: She’s cute, nice!

Isla

1:30AM: Is this why you’ve been so “busy” all the sudden?

Isla

1:41AM: Does she even know about us or is she just some whore you found while you’re there

Isla

1:52AM: Nevermind! It was almost too easy to find her profile, this her? Y/N?

Isla

1:55AM: Oh my god, she works for you…

Isla

1:56AM: Management is gonna love this. ❤️

Isla

1:58AM: How about you just call me tomorrow

Mother fucker. Motherfucker.

You debate getting out of bed to call her right now. You know how she is and you know what she is capable of, and you’d be goddamned if that woman was going to ruin this for you. You start to type, the fury boiling in your veins as your thumbs swipe across the keyboard, but suddenly you feel Y/N stirring next to you and it’s as if all the rage you were holding in disappeared. She rolls towards you, her hand coming to rest on your arm as she snuggles her head down into the pillow. You felt yourself relax under her touch, and instantly the message on your screen didn’t seem to matter. You deleted everything you typed and closed out of it, placing your phone back on the nightstand.

You looked at her, sleeping so peacefully next to you and decided that all of that could wait. You knew that it would only be a matter of time before Isla made her move, and when she did she would strike to kill. You grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into you, feeling her fit so perfectly, so naturally into your arms that it made you weak.

You knew there was a chance that this night, this one night, may be all you get with her, and you were going to enjoy every single last second of it, knowing that morning would come, and with it a likely very nasty conversation between you and Isla. But more than that, it brought the promise that Y/N’s face would be the first thing you would see, and that alone had you closing your eyes ready to face another day.

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