#then again imagine a career where you do one hour of work tops and then just fuck off to do other things with your day... the dream

[branmer]

doing the 400 words a day thing makes me wonder what pterry was doing with the rest of his time lmao. because it takes an hour tops to write my 400 words every day lol and he was a professional full time writer

[sacredthethreadgvf]

Limelight | Jake Kiszka x Reader | Part 2.

Word Count: 20.3k

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

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

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

****

September 3rd. 

STARCATCHER

St. Paul, MN.

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

A true taste of the limelight, if you will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, focus Y/N.

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

“Hey thanks Y/N. I appreciate it.” 

“You are most welcome.” 

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Time to deliver the package to the stage.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Showtime. 

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

*** 

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

Okay here's your cue, here they come. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

“What? What's wrong?” 

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

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

“Relax, your eyeliner is running.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“What's this?” You blushed. 

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

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

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

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

“Dont worry about it.” 

Damn that cocky smirk of his.

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

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

***

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

3:15 AM. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just-..” 

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

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

“What was that?” Dammit Jake…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake hummed. 

“You never answered my question.” You said. 

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

“The crowd was electric tonight.” You confirmed.  

“They were indeed.” 

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

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

“I love cooking shows.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widened, “Huh?” 

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

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

“Oh I'm Jakey now huh?” 

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone cleared their throat. 

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

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

“What do we have here?” 

Fuck. Fuck no, no.  

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

This could cost you your job. 

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

“Danny, listen man..” Jake was rigid. 

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

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

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

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

September 6th. 

STARCATCHER

Chicago, IL. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait really? No, no he hasn't.” 

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

A new band huh..

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

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

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

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

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

“No, wait.” he said breathlessly. 

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

“Dont.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks Y/N.” 

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, surprise me!” You smiled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hush up and just drink!” Josh said. 

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

Jake let out a booming laugh and Josh looked wounded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To Mirador!” Everyone followed suit. 

September 7th.

Detroit, MI.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake K. 9:23 AM

Carpe diem Clover, I want you to come to brunch

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

You 10:02 AM

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

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

Jake K. 10:02 AM 

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

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

You 10:03 AM 

Oh no..did I do anything embarrassing? 

Jake K. 10:04 AM 

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

You winced, of course..smooth Y/N

You 10:06 AM 

Oh my god I’m so sorry…

Jake K. 10:06 AM 

Don’t sweat it Clover, it was cute. 😉

Hurry up and get off the bus already! 

You 10:07 AM 

Yes sir 🫡 

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

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

Jake K. 10:13 AM 

Careful Clover..

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

So what the hell were you going to eat?  

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

Great, that didn't sound convincing and gross?

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

“Jake I really-“ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slightly out of tune, but not terrible. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jake, are-are you sure?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

September 10th. 

Washington D.C.

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

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

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

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

***

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

Jake K.  12:23 AM

Hey, you alive over there Clover? 

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

You 1:34 AM

Possibly. 

Jake K. 1:35 AM

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

Oh, he's still awake..

You 1:37 AM

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

Jake K. 1:37 AM

Watch the attitude Clover…

You 1:40 AM 

Or what..

Why are you awake anyways?

Jake K. 1:46 AM

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

You 1:50 AM 

Anything good?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’sa matter Clove?” 

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

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

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

“Oh,” you squeaked out. “Why?” 

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

“There’s always a why..” 

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

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

Kick him out Y/N…

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

Okay, that’s not… 

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

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

“Sparkling water if you don’t mind.” 

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

He patted his right thigh. 

“Huh?” He caught you off guard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes Y/N?” 

Fuck it. 

“Kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shhh..” 

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

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

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

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

“Jake I-.” 

“Yes Clover?” 

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

“Are you sure?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All yours Jake.” You smirked at him. 

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

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

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

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

“Hmm, thought so..” 

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

“What's wrong?” 

“More Jake..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was fucked. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh Jesus.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, so he was a talker. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C'mere baby,” Jake pulled you up by your torso and promptly flipped you around on your back. “I want to see your face when we cum together.” 

Oh…

“Jake please..” 

His eyes focused back down onto your core as he dragged himself along you. The second his pushed past the threshold of your entrance his lidded eyes snapped back to your face. 

This angle sure was different, you immediately felt an even more pleasurable pressure dragging against your walls. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a moan. Your eyes opening briefly as Jake’s hips began to snap against yours once more. The sight of his torso snapping against yours, the feeling of his finger tips gripping against your upper thighs. The fucking sound of his necklaces slamming back and forth against his chest. Not to mention the fucking expression on his face again. This same eyebrows furrowed again and the softest pout in his lips. You watched as he scrunched his nose again and again as he thrusted harder, faster, deeper.  

“Oh god dammit Jake!” You squeaked, your hands moving down to hold onto his thighs. 

He was hitting that hidden spot tucked away so secretly inside of you, you forgot it had even existed. He thrusted with such force that you could feel your body start to lose control and your legs begin to shake. 

“Oh fuck Jake I think I’m gonna cum soon…” 

His eyes snapped up to yours and he gave you the most evil looking smile. “Yeah Clover? You gonna cum all over my cock like a good girl? You gonna give it to me?” 

“Yes, yes Jake yes.” 

One of his hands released its grip on your thigh and trailed down to your clit, hard and waiting for some kind of stimulation. The second his thumb swiped against it briefly your back arched and you let out a long, breathless moan. His thumb only quickened its pace as soon as he felt you clench tightly around him. 

“Oh god yes Y/N,” his thrusts had not given in. His sweat was now dripping down his face, his chest. Just like when he played on stage.

“I’m there Jake, oh fuck yes I’m right there..” 

It started in your toes. 

It expanded to strictly your core. 

Then it traveled up throughout the rest of your body. 

Your eyesight went dark and you just heard ringing in your ears as the most intense orgasm ripped its way through your body. 

“Oh my god Y/N, yesss. You’re clenching me so tight. Please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop baby. I’m right here with you.” 

You could barely hear the praise from Jake over the ringing in your own ears. You felt your core try its hardest to clench around him but struggled due to his size. 

His thrusts became sloppy and slowed down and the most beautiful moan slipped past his lips. You hadn’t yet fully come down as he ripped himself from you and threw his head back with pleasure as you felt him release across your stomach. 

It took you both a moment to catch your breath. Your eyes finally met and you both smiled at each other, one huffing a laugh and the other giggling softly. 

“Holy shit.” You said. 

“Yeah, holy shit indeed Clover.” 

Jake leaned down and pressed a soft peck to your lips that you graciously reciprocated. 

“Hang tight darling, let me get something to clean you up.” 

You watched as Jake stepped back into his boxers, forgoing the sweatpants he had originally brought and walked away towards the bathroom. He made it back over to you pretty quickly and knelt down next to you. “Sorry about the mess.” He huffed a laugh as he dragged the warm washcloth against his release on your stomach..

You laughed out loud, “Jake! Oh my god!” 

“What!” He winked playfully at you. 

“Shut up!” 

“Awfully rude to say to someone who’s taking care of you.” He threw the rag on the opposite side of the room and kissed your temple. 

“Cmon Y/N,” he reached out his hand. “Come lay down with me.” 

You took his hand graciously and let him lead you to the side of the bed that was already slightly messed up due to your occupancy before he disturbed it. You laid down fully and allowed him to tuck you into the white bedding of the hotel bed. He placed a kiss softly on your forehead and leaned over to switch off the lamp next to you. 

You were engulfed in the dark, minus the little light from one of the plugs across the room. 

“Wait! Jakey..” You sat up as you heard him walk across the room. 

“What's wrong Clover?” 

“Please,” you said softly. “Please don’t leave me.” 

You felt the sheets pull back next to you and the bed dip with his weight. You laid back down against the pillow and waited for him to get adjusted. 

“C'mere lovey.” Jake's soft voice cut through the silent room. You scooted over to his side of the bed and found his arms already played open for you, welcoming your body against his. He tucked you under his chin, the scent of his cologne radiating off of his sweaty skin. The feeling of his heartbeat against your nose. 

“Get some sleep Clover, I don’t want you all crabby tomorrow.” 

“Shut up Jake.” You both giggled. 

September 11th 

STARCATCHER

Washington D.C. 

When you awoke in the morning, the sun was already peering through the curtains in the hotel room giving a soft glow to the walls around you. You stretched slightly and felt a slight ache in your muscles to which you grimaced. 

You were reminded of last night's late events and you quickly turned over to find your bed empty. 

Immediate disappointment radiated through your chest and your fear that something went wrong plagued your mind. 

Of course he wouldn’t stay with you. Of course he couldn’t stay with you. 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and turned over in search of your phone that was lost amongst the tangled sheets. It was show day, you had to make sure you weren’t running late. Sitting up in bed for a moment you immediately noticed the scent of Jake’s cologne now embedded onto your skin and in your hair. You took a moment to run your fingers through one side of your hair and subconsciously lifted a few strands to your nose and breathed in. The smoky amber and bergamot invading your senses. 

You ran your hands along the sheets and along the edges of your pillows in search of your phone, which proved to be successful. You clicked your screen alive, 9:34 AM. 

Shit. Shit! You were so late… 

You scrambled out of bed and completed a half ass morning routine, grabbing a single granola bar on the way out of your hotel room door. You couldn’t focus on anything else, not even what had occurred between you and Jake as your hands shook trying to reach out to one of the runners to come get you and take you to the venue. You had never, ever been late getting to the venue the morning of a show and of course it was the night after you hooked up with the lead guitarist. 

Arriving at the venue about 20 minutes later, you ran up to Rose immediately who looked slightly displeased with you and gathered her list of a few things to gather for the day. You had made your way to Jake’s dressing room, following the labeled songs from the team along the hallways and let out a soft breath as you pushed through the door. 

You dropped your bag off on one of the chairs and made eye contact with Jake across the room, the tension and anxiety in your chest easing slightly as you acknowledged that you were with your comfort person. 

“You snuck out this morning,” you smirked, a playful tone hinting in your voice. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jake paused, his lips forming a tight line.“Listen, Y/N..”

Your heart dropped instantly in your chest at the tone of his voice and lack of nickname he used to frequently with you. This wasn’t good.. 

You felt your heart skip a beat, the sweat beginning to pour from your palms, the-..

“Hey Y/N?” Nick popped his head into the room, hand gripping the side of the door. “Can I speak with you for a moment?” 

Your heart sank even further, this couldn’t be good. You had a keen sense for the tone of people’s voice, their body language, blame it on your past experiences I guess. And this was a double whammy.

“Uh, yeah sure.” You followed him closely, not a word spoken between the two of you as you followed him into an isolated room and he closed the door. 

“Listen, these conversations are never easy,” 

Your heart sped up as he crossed his arms and leaned against a table opposite from where you were standing. “Would you like to fill me in on what’s going on with Jake?” 

For a moment you were confused, had he been acting differently? Was there something you were supposed to report back? 

It finally clicked.

“What do you mean?” This couldn’t be true.

“What I mean is, someone has filled me in that Jake was leaving your hotel room at 5 am this morning. Care to elaborate?” 

Fuck. 

The room suddenly became a blur. You indeed, had been caught. Your mouth opened for a moment but you had no idea how to cover up what had happened, you knew your face turning beat red was giving you away by the second.

“Jake just needed something last minute he-..had called me and requested that I-..”

“You can save the excuses,” Nick held up a hand and you shut your mouth real quick. Your heartbeat is still loudly pounding in your ears. “I will only say this once. This is your first and final warning. If I or anyone else catches you with Jake alone past your normal hours without my knowledge either prior to or if you need to “assist him” late at night, I will be sending you on a plane home the very next day. Do we understand each other?” 

Your head bowed. How could you have been so stupid to let yourself get caught. This could end your career that you had been working so hard on building. 

“I understand.” 

“Great,” Nick uncrossed his arms and walked towards the door holding it open for you. “I will be keeping a close eye Y/N.” 

You exited the room and it felt like your world came crashing down on you all of a sudden. Your chest felt tight as you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself down. You couldn’t believe you had let things go as far as they did, you barely even knew Jake when you really thought about it. Why did you let it go this far…and he just, left? Was he thinking the same thing? Were you just some random hook up to him? You felt like you were just an easy target..

You turned the corner and made your way back to  Jake’s dressing room, intent on grabbing your things and making haste to one of the runner so you could get the fuck out and do your job. You wanted to make yourself sparse from anyone, especially Jake who had clearly started to act weird towards you. You hated that the first thought in your head had been the realization that of course he would be acting weird after hooking up. That's probably all he wanted from you in the first place…You knew he was busy with his tech at the moment so he wouldn’t be in his greenroom right now. You definitely had the ability to sneak out for the day until you got close to soundcheck.

You dipped into the dressing room and closed the door behind you taking a moment to close your eyes and let out the breath you had been holding, head thudding against the back of the door. You were thankful for a moment of peace…

“Uh, can I help you?” 

A voice rang out from across the room. Your eyes snapped open at the sound of a woman’s voice. You made eye contact with a short brunette sitting on a stool not far from where you were standing. 

Who the hell..? 

You had suddenly found your voice after a moment, “Who are you? Do you have a pass?” 

The mystery woman snapped her gum out of clear annoyance and she pulled a pass card from her hip, “Clearly, who are you?” 

“I’m Y/N, I’m Jake’s assistant.” 

You watched as she looked you up and down, “Mmm.” She hummed and snapped her gum  before turning her attention back to her phone. “Can you go find him for me? Hes been gone a little while and left me waiting for a bit.” 

“Okay but who are-“ 

“Do you understand English?” Mystery bitch snapped. “Go. Find. Jake.” 

You couldn’t handle this. Not after that conversation with Nick. You spun out the door quickly as you could after grabbing your backpack in the corner. You desperately needed a moment alone. And to hell with finding Jake you needed to steer clear of him at this point. You needed clarity and you needed to ground yourself just for a moment outside. 

Your eyes started welling up with tears as your emotions began to overwhelm your system. You panicked a bit, you needed a moment of fucking peace. Unfortunately for you, Jake had spotted you from across the hall. He had been talking to Scott and while you two didn’t get a chance to finish your conversation from earlier, he gave you a curt smile. His expression quickly turned into a frown as he realized that you were upset and you realized he had abandoned his conversation and quickly began to walk towards you. “Y/N?”

Fuck. Get away from him. Get away now. 

You turned a corner and then another corner and then another, hoping that Jake eventually wouldn't be able to see where you had dipped off so quickly. You could still hear him calling your name, trying to push past people and curtains and crates to get to you. His voice finally sounded like it had disappeared just as the first tear fell from your right eye and you unfortunately had slammed into someone. 

“Woah!” 

Sammy. 

He gripped your shoulders to steady you and immediately you felt the tears begin to pour out of your eyes streaming down your cheeks at a rapid rate. “Y/N! What’s wrong?!” 

“There’s a girl,” you try to swallow but nothing was going down. “In-in Jake’s dressing room, I don’t know who she is but she has a pass. I'm just confused because I haven’t seen her, but I don’t know. I think I’m just-..She just caught me off guard and I’m just feeling overwhelmed and the moment and I just needed some fresh air an-..” 

“Woah slow down Y/N, what does she look like?” Sam’s fingers gripped your shoulders a little tighter. 

“Long brown hair, pretty..” 

“Oh shit,” He paused, the hands that were gripping your shoulders fell to his sides. “Jake’s girlfriend must be here…”

****************************************************

Taglist:

@anythingforjtk @jakesguitarsolo @do-it-jakey-baby @vanfleeter @violetstarcatcher @myownparadise96 @ignite-my-fire @gvfvanfleet @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavansara @edgingthedarkness @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @spark-my-nature @torniturntomyarrow @starshine-gvf @heckingfrick @hollyco

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know !

[morganbritton132]

Idk if you’ve mentioned it before but what is everyone in the Party’s jobs?? We already know Erica is a kickass politician and Lucas is the family embarrassment doctor but what does everyone else do besides bug Steve lol?

Also is Dustin still with Susie or did that ship sail away in the EMTTS?? <333

So, fun fact about me: I am not a big fan of future AUs. I don’t particularly like reading them and I’ve never written one prior to the Tiktok Saga. I think the problem I have with them is that it’s really hard to determine where a character should be thirty-odd years down the road. How or why a one-off post about Eddie being bad with technology turned into all this, I do not know.

I don’t have everybody’s job picked out because I don’t really think about it until it’s relevant to the story, but luckily, I do spend way too much time thinking about this AU so I have few that haven’t been mentioned.

The ones that have been mentioned: Steve is a teacher, Eddie’s a musician, Nancy’s a journalist, Jonathan’s a photographer, Lucas is a doctor, and Erica is a senator.

I think Argyle owns a very successful marijuana dispensary in California where him and Jonathan live and it gives him the freedom to travel with Jonathan when he goes out of town for business. Argyle just has the vibe that should not be working a nine-to-five. Also, I think that Argyle as an old man stoner with long completely gray hair is just so cool.

Robin is also a teacher, but she teaches at a university in the linguistics department. She spoke four languages when she joined the party, she now speaks nine. She’s written a book. She has a kickass rating on Rate My Professor. She’s likely the front runner to take over the department once the current dean retires next year.

I really like the idea of Max becoming a physical therapist. She had a long road to recovery after Venca and spent over a year in physical therapy just learning how to walk again. She knows what it’s like. She knows when and how hard to push her patients, and she’s good at the job. This also makes Max a doctor so Erica includes Max when she says that Lucas is the worst Sinclair.

I’m less defined on what kind of careers that Will, Mike, and El have. I just haven’t found a job that I’m like, yes, that makes perfect sense for that character. I do think that Will has a career where he can be creative and that he’s successful, I just haven’t narrowed it down to what exactly he does.

Mike and El, on the other hand, I have no idea. I mentioned before that Mike had a band that opened up for Eddie on CC’s first national tour and I imagine that he did one summer or during his gap year before college (if he went to college). El, I like to think, travels a lot and has got to see the world and be free of the responsibility of saving the world. But those two, I think, are tough to pin down to a specific career.

Now, for Dustin.

Dustin has had a very successful career as a researcher and his career has taken him all over the world. Now what exactly does he research? That’s up to you. This man is a scientist and that’s all Steve and Eddie can tell you about Dustin’s job because it’s just over of their heads. He loves it and that’s all they need to know.

Dustin and Suzie are currently not together. They have dated off and on since they’ve known each other and have always split on good terms. It has just always been the wrong time for them because when they’re together, they’re great. They hit it off and decide to start dating again, and then they just get busy. They’re both top of their field and work crazy long hours all over the world, and the cost of that is their relationship.

I think they both kinda know that one day, they’ll meet up at the right time, but for now, they’re good friends and they date other people. Steve thinks that they’re soulmates and he’ll randomly give Dustin an update that Suzie is single again. Dustin is always like, “How do you know that?”

“We’re friends on Facebook.”

[casablancarossa]

Follow your body rhythm..

<<a [medium spicy] taemin x reader scenario>>

Pairing: Taemin x Female!Reader

Genre: Slightly smutty.

Content Warning: Not Advised for Minors. Minors DNI. Usage of pet names.

Synopsis: In preparing for your comeback, your practice session is rudely interrupted by your ex-boyfriend and suddenly bad ideas become good ones.

Author's Note: Sometimes the way that man dances is just so sinful. Like sir who allowed you. Do you think his hip rolls in bed are just as lethal?

The music pulsated a little too loud in your head this time. Maybe that's what happens after 6 hours on the floor without taking a break, but you would get so lost in the zone, and no one else was in the studio to really remind you to chill out for a bit.

As the last note rang through the room, it was like it had hit an off switch in your body and now you are on the floor, breathing so heavily and out of breath. Your vision wasn't any better as it felt like the room was spinning and honestly you'd had better vision, blind drunk without your contact lenses than you do now. Your eyes flutter shut as you bring up your arm to cover your eyes for a bit, audibly panting as you unzip your hoodie to cool your body off.

"Mmm, be careful, being a temptress could get you hurt", a voice reacted seeing your sweatpants riding low on your hips, paired with a half mesh sports bra, almost leaving nothing to the imagination as your breasts practically pool over the top.

The sudden presence of someone shocked you and you didn't even think twice to stand up and bow your back, greeting whoever was in the room. "Hello, sunbae!", your voice tried to sound respectful and less annoyed and by the time you stand fully straight, you noticed it was Taemin standing at the doorway of the dance studio, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. "Oh--it's ... you", the words left your breathless as you collapse down onto the ground again.

Taemin's eyes widened, flinching to reach out to you, witnessing your body drop, but seeing you groan in anger as you shift to sit up, pressing your back against the cool mirror. "Sorry, sunbae, I'll leave in a bit, just.. let me catch my breath.." you mumbled, throwing your head back to rest against the mirror.

"Working hard again hm? How's prepping for your comeback?" Taemin smiled as he steps into the room, walking towards you.

"Shit.."

"It can't be that bad..."

"I think I prefer it when I used to be a back-up dancer"

"3 years as an idol can feel like a lifetime, I suppose. Boa-noona misses you by the way. " Taemin smirks, settling down beside you.

"Has it only been three years?" , your eyes roll just enough that Taemin makes a note of it before you lie back down on the ground, suddenly feeling less pressure to leave.

"And yet you still use our studio..", he mused quietly.

Your turn your head to get a view of Taemin before rolling your eyes once more and stare at the ceiling. If it has been 3 years since you debuted, then it has been almost 4 years since you broke up with Taemin and roughly a few weeks since you last hooked up with him.

Taemin and you are old enough to know what you two were doing , and within reason, it was absolutely insane and totally wrong. The both of you were never really the 'casual sex' type of people but at the same time, you two never really had a deep meaningful conversation to know where you both stand together. You had prioritized your career, and so did Taemin, and unsurprisingly the two of you had needs. Sexual needs, that only you two could fulfil for each other.

Every morning after a 'playtime sessions' (you two have labelled it as such), you and Taemin would laugh about it over coffee, claiming that the previous night was going to be the last time and then acknowledge later on that 'last time' was not going to the 'last time'. But it worked for the both of you or at least you though it did.

"When's your first stage? How long is the promo?" Taemin's questions pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Jeez mom, relax." you giggled "Promo for 3 weeks and first stage is I think in 2 weeks, maybe later"

Taemin nodded his head and ponders for a moment before scooting his body across the floor to lie down beside you, resting on his elbows. His eyes bore holes into your body as he slowly analyses your face, biting his lips by the time his eyes cast over your plump lips, to your jawline, downwards your neck and continuing further to just the top of your exposed cleavage. He curses to himself internally, he was a fool to have let you go this long.

"So... anyone catch your eye recently?" Taemin tries to downplay his curiosity but his words carried the tone of spite behind it.

"Depends, any of your peers curious?" you hummed lightly, rotating your head to look at Taemin's reaction through his reflection. "You know, I did miss the chance to give my number to Taeyong oppa, do you think he'd still be interested?"

Taemin's face did not disappoint, you could see his jaw clench at the mention of Taeyong's name before muttering audible curses, thinking you wouldn't hear him. A fog washed over his gaze, he was deep in thought, the same blank stare he would give when he was angry. It would all steep deep in his core and he would never let it bubble over. Taemin's anger scared you before. The empty hooded gaze, the low voice, the way he'd flex his hands open only to ball up into a tight fist along with the sickly sweet tone he would adopt that has nothing but malice behind it. He mouths Taeyong's name, each time looking more and more annoyed.

You reach over to flick Taemin's forehead, sighing as you roll onto your side, looking at him. "Oppa, I was joking. Relax.."

He doesn't react, but his eyes were now on you and it felt hot and uncomfortable, like you were being judged.

"You say this, but I know he is featured in your stage as the male dance partner", Taemin's voice betrayed his apparent 'no-shits-given' appearance with a jealous tone.

"Aww baby, are you jealous?" you teased lightly, while your hand reaches up to caress his cheeks.

Instantly he melts with your touch as his head leans into your hold. You haven't called him by any sort of pet-name in a very long time. Taemin didn't even realize how much he missed it until he heard it from you. His reaction to your touch catches you off guard, quickly you pull your hand away and pull yourself upwards to a standing position, somewhat struggling to convince your body to do anything but stay beside Taemin.

"Ah oppa, I'll just get my stuff and you can have the studio" you announced without looking at him and when he gave no verbal cue back, you start walking away to the benches, quickly gathering your stuff, carelessly piling them into your duffel bag.

It was all the sudden, and you didn't even hear Taemin move across the floor, hell you didn't even hear him calling out your name, but out of nowhere, his hand was on your wrist, pulling you towards him, physically shortening the distance you created between you two. "Dance with me, y/n."

"What?"

"I've sat in a few of Taeyong's practices with the choreographer. I'd like to think I know the dance pretty well."

You stare at Taemin with wide eyes, slightly shocked unsure how to respond.

"Your phone is still connected right?" he said firmly, turning on his heel to walk towards the speakers, grabbing your phone and pausing to look at you.

Accept now and you'd look to eager. Reject and you'd be considered pretty rude. No one ever denies Taemin a chance to dance, whether he is pushing his back-up dancers for one more round, or inviting an idol to perform a song with him, and you would be no different. Without saying anything, the action of dropping whatever was in your hand while peeling off your hoodie, and walking to the middle of the studio was enough of an answer to the senior idol, who quickly presses play and shuffle.

Your body shifts into your starting position with Taemin standing off to the side, waiting for the cue to begin. As the beat drops and music plays, you begin to dance your routine as you always have but now instead of practicing it alone, you had someone with you instead. Technically, there was a list of male idols who you would share the stage with for the duration of your promotions, but you actually had not practiced with any of them yet.

It really didn't click in your head that the dance was really intimate in some ways and maybe you might be faced with a lot of hate for performing a sensual dance, with a male idol. You think it's rather tasteful, and quite a technical dance. You would count the beats in your head until Taemin's cue to essentially slide into his spot so you two could dance together.

Every longing pause, every hit of the beat, every sway of the hips, Taemin matched your rhythm and movement perfectly. Effortlessly, there was no hesitation when Taemin's body would be pressed against yours, or when you would need to lean on him as he supports your weight for a twirl. Suddenly the choreo felt electric. Any time Taemin's hands would be positioned at your hips, he would grip lightly, causing a hitch in your breath and those ghostly touches would fluidly move around your body when the choreo needed it.o

When your faces would meet, he'd have this alluring, almost seductive stare. Taemin wouldn't hold back during parts that required 'closeness' and would purposely graze, occasionally bumping his lips against the skin of your arm or shoulders.

"Mmm, tell me you aren't tempted to ditch Taeyong and have me as your partner instead" Taemin muses into your ear as he pauses.

You sigh, slightly annoyed, dropping out of your own pose to flick Taemin at the forehead. "Idiot. You are jealous"

"Why would I be? I'm not the jealous type. If you really want to dance with Yongie.. then fine." his voice laced with defeat and annoyance.

"Taem... come on. It's me. Be honest"

"Okay, maybe I am a bit jealous.." Taemin sighs as he reaches his arm out to hook around your waist, pulling you to him. "I can't help it...something about you, just makes it hard to control myself.."

"Yeah right.."

"Do I need to remind you?"

"Ah ah ah, you don't have to" you let out an annoyed groan.

At your protests, Taemin attempts to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he support you by your ass. The sudden movement causes you to yelp, trying to smack his shoulders as your arms cling around his neck. You and Taemin have been far more intimate than this but you couldn't help but to be shy at this moment. He had a childish smile on his face as he walks in circles around the studio, carrying you up and playing childish tricks on you, by pretending to drop you.

Each time you felt a pit in your stomach, you would wrap your arms tighter around him. The closeness of your two bodies gave you the chills. Did he get stronger? Why does it feel like his grip has gotten tighter? Does he look at me the same way I look at him? Thoughts flooded your brain, but it was suddenly interrupted by a cold shock running down your body.

Taemin had taken the liberty to walk towards the large mirrors, slamming your body against the cool screen, making you hiss a little. He uses the friction and leverage to slightly hoist you a little higher so he would be head height with your chest.

"Ow? What was that for?" you questioned, but there was quiver in your voice and that unmistakable glint in your eye like something had triggered within you.

"Oh sorry, I distinctively remember, that you love being pinned to the wall" the snarky yet alluring comment from Taemin caused your legs to tremble and suddenly your arousal made its presence known.

"Seriously in the studio? Where people can walk in?"

"Don't you think it's fun that way? Besides Y/N..I'm hungry" Taemin flashes a quick dirty smile before latching his lips at the top of your breasts, clamping down with a needy bite.

You barely had time to react, groaning as your head throws back. You would wantonly mewl Taemin's name as his teeth navigated closer to the hem of your sports bra, nipping at the fabric to release your nipple from its confinements. Your head lowers just in time to see him lick his lips, immediately going for the sensitive bud. "Ah..Taem..min..nggh", your words fail you.

Taemin's eyes look up to see your panting reddened face. Nothing excited him more that looking at your panicked, aroused state.

"It's about that time again Y/N..." he whispers lowly, the cool air of his breath gives you goosbumps. "Time for us to commit sin against god"

"Here, I was thinking that last time was the last time.." you chuckled, feeling a sudden twinge in your lower region.

"Oh baby, you and I both know, that's never going to happen" Taemin pushes his neck out so he could nip at your throat, before lovingly decorating it with kisses and bites.

You could only hum and lose yourself in his actions. Those damn lips were a curse, a curse you never wanted to end. It wasn't long before your fingers were wrapped in Taemin's hair, pulling him closer to you, letting him ravish you. Just beneath you, you could also feel his need for you pressing into your thigh and you couldn't help but shift just to feel it more at the spots that mattered.

"What's this princess? I though the studio was too lowly for you", he chuckles.

"Mmf, Taemin.. I can't.. I think I need you now..." you managed to speak in staggered breath.

Taemin grants you a moment of relief as your lips collide to a passionate kiss. Full of want and hotness. You couldn't help but cup his face in your hands as your tongues begin to dance, the way you two would hungrily bite each others lips.

In the deep desire to make Taemin's idol life harder, you wanted to lay your mark. Your fingers once more curl into Taemin's dark locks, now grabbing a fistful and yanking his head back so you can grant him the same 'gifts' he has blessed your neck with.

Taemin lowly growls, finding the dominance you were displaying very attractive. So he continues to allow you to place the bites. He is a grown man and resourced with talented makeup artists; a few hickeys would be no problem. What took him off guard was the way your free hand slipped to the base of his neck, applying slight pressure that ellicited a delightful moan out of him.

"Princess.. you are playing a dangerous game" he snarls, immediately grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mirrored wall along with the slight slam of your body.

"Why? Scared I'd win..",you cocked a single brow up, taunting Taemin.

"Only because I'd let you win. Don't forget the only one begging and screaming is you.." he chuckles.

A foreign voice suddenly erupts. "Taemin-ah! Taemin-ah! Are you here Taemin-ah?"

As the door of the studio swings open, you had never found yourself and Taemin move so quick as you unfurl your legs as he quickly but gently lets you down before taking a step back.

"Oh hyung I'm here" Taemin calls out as his eyes widened staring at your chest, reaching out to quickly raise the fabric of your sport bra to hide your nipple.

"Oh Taemin you're here. Ah Y/N too. You were practicing too huh"

You raise your head to see Euisoo walking towards you two with coffee in hand. You quickly bow in greeting and keeping your head down, you rush towards your bag, picking it up from the floor and grabbing your hoodie and zipping it up to cover yourself more.

"I'm.. uh... I finished practicing.. I'll uhhh... I'll get out of your way" you stumbled to find your words after almost being caught by Taemin's manager.

Your feet quickly shuffled towards the speakers and unplugging your phone before heading to the door. You bow once more, waving your hands out to Euisoo and Taemin.

"Umm.. bye. I'll uhh.. I'll see you guys around." you nervously laughed before leaving the room.

Euisoo and Taemin chuckle to themselves, seeing you extra flustered.

Meanwhile you take the phone into your hand trying to think of what to send to Taemin as you navigate your way out of the building.

*beep beep*

Y/N sent a message : Name a place and time. Tonight. I'll show you, I can win the game too.

Despite the fact Euisoo rambling on about future schedules in line for Taemin, the idol only chuckles at the sight of your message, immediately coming up with a response.

Taemin sent a message: How about your place? Let's give your housemates something to talk about.

Y/N sent a message: Fine. But you better bring beer and rabboki.

Taemin sent a message: Food and drinks. Check. By the way, loser wears a collar for their next stage. ♥️

Y/N sent a message: 🥵 Can't wait.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

I have a Hazbin Hotel request :} pretty please

What about Sir Pentious x gn reader (platonic or romantic idc) where they're both rivals and fighting, but somehow find out that they've both ended up in the Hazbin Hotel at the same time...

omg! yes! i feel like i hardly ever see sir pentious stuff and he is so sweet. he definitely deserves more love and i hope i did this justice!

rating: PG

genre: fluffy-ish (just some bants and not really angsty)

characters: Sir Pentious x Reader (platonic but could be seen as a prelude to romance)

warnings: talk of turf wars, and use of the word fuck

You had finally gained ground on the terf war that was happening when Sir Pentious finally left, claiming he had a bigger and stronger enemy to lay siege to.

Your eyes rolled at that, but it wasn’t long until you were overwhelmed when a new team came in and wiped the area. You knew when to cut your losses so you left, angry that you had to retreat and loose that footing. You shook your head relaizing you didn’t have a place to sleep or anything when you passed by a store playing the radio and an ad came on talking about the Hazbin Hotel.

‘It’s not too far from here.’ You thought and started heading that way. It’s not like you bought into the whole redemption idea, but if it got you a bed for a while, what the hell. You finally come up to the door and knock. Surprised when the Radio Demon opens the door.

“A new patron, I assume?” He says.

“Ummm, yes?” You say, phrasing it more of a question. He lets you in and who you find out to be Charlie Morningstar bounds up to you and starts to get you checked in. You finally have your key and walk over to the bar, asking for a whiskey, neat, when you hear a gasp.

“My greatest foe! Has come to find me here. You wish to try and best me again in Battle!” You look straight ahead, not believing this.

“You have to be joking. You’re here too?” You ask as Husk slides you your drink.

“I am! You must have been searching for me I imagine! But I must disappoint you, I no longer do battle! My combat days are behind me, for I’ve turned over a new leaf.” Pentious explains.

“Well, it’s not like your villainy career was really workin’ out for ya Pents.” You say and sip your drink. “I can see why you’d retire old man.” You taunt him.

“I am not old! I think I am just two years older than you!” He exclaims, actually looking offended.

“2 years, 2 hours, 2 minutes… Still older. And since you are older, you could never beat me in combat so, I guess age isn’t everything is it snakey?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“Oh if I had my death ray right now…” Pentious says, absolutely seething.

“You’d what? Have it break down in the middle of the field and scream as others come at you with knives?” You say, referencing one time when Pentious’s invention failed on the field and it ended up in a disaster for him.

“IT WAS ONE TIME!” He exclaims.

“It only took one time too and I was able to claim that territory for myself.” You say smug.

“Where’s your territory now, hmmm? You wouldn’t be here if you had won.” Pentious says, sliding up to the bar, smirking.

“Fuck you.” You glare at him.

“I win!” He exclaims as he leaves, calling for his eggs so they may go to sleep.

“Good night to everyone except my mortal enemy, Y/N. I hope you DON’T have a good night.” He says at the top of the stairs.

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” You yell. Angel hears and adds on, “That the only action he’d be able to get!”

“Cheers to that!” You hold your cup up to Angel.

Charlie and Vaggie look at each other. “I think tomorrow may need to have two lessons on building friendships and talking to each other nicely.” Charlie says.

“Maybe throw in a ‘how to be friends when we were enemies in a turf war’ too.” Vaggie adds. Watching the lobby and taking in all the patrons.

“We have a lot of work to do then!” Charlie says dragging Vaggie to the board to plan out the next days activities with their new guest.

[gepardling]

ok FLUFF REQUEST TIME!! Gepard in a relationship with an actor(ess)!reader. I can imagine him trying his best to see every play and if he doesn't, he'll at least send flowers and whatnot. In regards to the reader, I believe they would understand and knows that he can't go to every single one of their plays. In short, I wanna see cute fluffy relationship scenarios or headcanons with these two on and off of work. Maybe a lil bonus if the two live together :3

on the stage, behind the stage w/ gepard.

desc. : unironically i think u can tell i read oshi no ko b4 writing dis, n im so happy i did bc i feel it gave me a new perspective on dis topic !! i didnt go angsty on it tho bc we need fluff in dis household. i wrote headcanons nd a short lil bonus fic 4 u dis time :) ( wc : 1k )

tags / cw : sfw, just fluff, gn!reader, reader is part of an acting troupe, just casual relationship things, not proofread

○ Gepard makes it his top priority to see most, if not all, of your shows. There have been many nights where he’s had to cut it close with his frontline duties, showing up just in time to witness the closing act. He always makes sure to bring flowers, your favorite kind, of course, and it’s always a HUGE bunch of them. Bonus points if he grew them himself!

○ There were times when you'd perform consecutive nights in a row, and your house would soon run out of space to keep all the bouquets Gepard delivered. But don’t worry, you would talk to him about it if you move in together. There really is no need for him to spend this much money on you! Yet he always insists, and one way or another, your house will be filled with flowers again.

○ Every one of his soldiers would know if you ever did a musical play because Gepard will not stop humming your solo after he heard it the first time. He also diligently memorizes the lines of your duets after you accidentally sang one together while cooking, and now he can't get enough of singing with you. You both get good practice too! It's a win-win.

○ Naturally, your acting career can be demanding. This makes both you and Gepard busy people who are rarely at home. It only makes those moments you get to spend some private time together all the more special, seeking solace in each other’s embrace as you momentarily escape your responsibilities.

○ Gepard understands how overwhelming your work can be, constantly dealing with other people, their opinions, and expectations of you. That being said, he doesn’t "abuse" his position as captain, per se. He may be a little biased when he’s quick to shut down any negative commentary people make about you, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

○ You don’t appreciate it when he hides those opinionated thoughts from you, but he's undeniably looking out for your mental health. Arguably, it’s slightly better this way too, and if you ever feel down or doubt yourself, he provides you with unwavering love and dedication.

○ He ensures you know that he’s not in love with you because of your talents or performance, but because he loves you for who you are. He greatly admires the passion you have and all the hours of hard work you put into acting, one of the many things that draw him to you.

○ Of course, life isn’t always perfect, and there are times when your schedules don’t align. If he has to leave for the frontlines before one of your concerts, he leaves you a letter of encouragement and a big bouquet on your dresser. He tries to see you before he has to leave as often as he can, but if you’re in dress rehearsals or learning a new script, there isn’t much he can do :((

○ On those rare occasions when he misses your performance before coming back home, there will always be a plate of warm food waiting for you, along with flowers or gifts that he personally gives you when you arrive or he picks you up from the theater, whichever comes first. He’s right by your side, listening intently as you recount the performance to him while you remove any remaining stage makeup.

○ This next one is purely food for thought, but if the acting troupe you’re with is relatively small and self-sufficient, Gepard would do his best to take up sewing to help you prepare or fix any costumes for performances. Sure, he breaks a ton of needles, and he’s probably not the best at it, but it’s cute that he tries so hard to lighten your workload while he’s just as busy himself...

You couldn’t help but nervously peak beyond the curtains, possibly the fifth time that night. The lights that shone on the stage glared so bright that everything beyond it seemed to melt into a sea of darkness, the faces of the audience obscured by the void. The final act of the show was about to come to a close, possibly the pinnacle of your acting career, but Gepard was still nowhere to be seen. 

Tonight was the last performance of this play, and Gepard, despite promising to be there for the first show, was still missing. A stagehand tapping on your shoulder brought your mind back from the shadows, and you realized you had been biting your nails unconsciously. With only two more minutes before stepping on stage, you needed to clear your mind for a good performance.

You pushed aside negative thoughts and swallowed your doubts, preparing yourself to step onto the stage. The scene required you to portray relief and joy as the protagonist reunites with their estranged lover after a challenging journey. However, an emptiness lingered in your heart, making it harder to wear the mask.

As the curtains rose, you squinted slightly against the blinding lights. The deafening roar of the audience rang painfully in your ears. Yet, as a professional, you knew you had to play the part. With one last gulp, you forced yourself into character, banishing any wavering nerves from your voice.

Just moments before the climax of the scene, a distant shuffling in the back of the theater caught your attention. Through the haze of darkness, you could vaguely make out the figure of a person who had just arrived. Your heart surged with relief when you realized it was none other than Gepard. His disheveled hair and slightly worn uniform were evidence of his haste.

When his eyes met yours, the light returned to your gaze, and your heart soared. If not for the arrival of your fellow actor on set, you might have forgotten your lines. The timing couldn't have been more perfect, and your genuine excitement upon seeing Gepard seamlessly merged with your character's emotions. You delivered a flawless performance, wrapping up the night with an encore.

You couldn't wait to find Gepard backstage, and you rushed to the lobby, barely out of your costume. The force and speed of your hug nearly threw him off balance, and he had to hold the bouquet at a distance to protect it. You scolded him for making you worry, and he simply nodded apologetically, soothingly rubbing your back. When you finally pulled away, he handed you the bouquet and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

"I told you I'd be here," he whispered, intertwining his free hand with yours. Gepard always followed through on his promises, no matter what. 

unfortunately the title is the name of a genshin quest (lol !!) never quite felt a piece come 2 me as easy as dis 1. absolutely in love w/ the request !! the dark part of my mind kept screaming "what if geppie doesn't arrive" but of course he would !!! he wouldn't miss it 4 the world...

[oftenwantedafton]

Trapped - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Detective Reader

Chapter 4

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - blood and violence, non con sexual elements

Also available to read on AO3

In all of his time posing as a career counselor, William Afton’s alias has never taken a sick day.

Until now.

He’s not actually ill, of course; he just wants a weekday off, when he knows you’ll be working, when he can enter your residence without being disturbed.

He has had years of practice breaking locks, necessary for activities like cleaning out dead employee’s lockers and hiding victim’s cars, and your front door surrenders just as easily, affording him entrance into the living room. He closes the door behind him and takes his time looking over the earth toned furniture, fingers trailing across the back of the couch. A framed portrait of your graduation ceremony from the academy is tucked behind a plant that’s artificial, of course—you have no time for maintaining a live one—seated on a book about feng shui. You look much the same to him: young, excited and energetic, so eager to help others.

The remote for the television perches on the arm rest of the sofa. There are a stack of fashion and home decorating magazines piled on the ottoman, along with an empty coffee mug waiting to be washed when you return. He finds it all pedestrian and bland. Save for the framed image there is nothing of you, the person, in this place.

He reaches your bedroom, pausing by your dresser, opening each drawer in succession. He lingers over undergarments, touching fabric and imagining your body clothed in it, devoid of it. He sits on the bed and removes his shoes and his glasses, then lies back. You’d neglected to make it in your hurry to get ready that morning and he’s grateful, sinking into the hollow your body had left an hour before. There’s no lingering warmth but he imagines it’s there just the same, radiating from the mattress through the sheets and rising against him. He turns his face and inhales deeply, the scent of your strawberry shampoo heavy here. He envisions you mirroring this posture, stifling moans, hands reaching between your legs to pleasure yourself. He indulges in the fantasy of being on top of you, pressing you down into the bed with each thrust, the soft recoil of motion sending you towards the head of the bed. He wants to fuck all the air from your lungs and maim you, letting his knife carve patterns like his own springlock scars, parting your flesh, sticky hot blood adhering to your bodies.

The hamper in the bathroom holds your dirty clothes and he finds what he’s looking for, wrapping himself in your used panties, stroking his cock. He’d love to make a mess in them but he manages to drop them before he finishes in his own hand. He ensures everything is restored to its exact proper place before he departs, another skill he’s acquired over the years.

He makes a phone call to you later that day from a blocked number, not speaking, merely listening to your voice as you answer, admiring the increased volume of your breathing when your mouth goes closer to the receiver. It’s not nearly enough of what he wants but for now, it will have to do.

***

“So you’ve spoken to the creep again.”

Mike leans back against his car, folding his arms across his chest. It’s early morning after his shift, and you’ve managed to catch up with him before he’d left. He looks tired as usual, but not as groggy. He’s told you he’s abandoned the sleep aid medication and it seems to be helping him tremendously. He might not have found a cure for the insomnia but at least he’s more alert now for his waking moments.

“Yes, the other night.”

“And?”

“And nothing. He won’t give me a straight answer about how to contact the owner and I can’t find anything on where William Afton disappeared to.” You’ve managed to find the owner’s name, at least, but that’s where the information trail went cold.

The security guard frowns. “He knows something.”

“I agree with you. But a suspiciously clean floor and a sleazy smile isn’t enough to convict anyone. I can’t even get him for not answering me about the contact information because it’s all protected. That was the deal Afton got when his name was cleared. He’s got a shield around him I can’t get through. There are no bodies. There is no evidence. Nothing that we can find, anyway,” you mumble. “I still don’t understand why the owner switched to killing adults. If it even is him doing it. Why kill an employee? Why would Raglan risk his neck covering for him? He’s not the type to do anyone a favor. Not unless he was getting something out of it.”

Mike chews his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Maybe blackmail? Afton has some hold over him?”

“Except Raglan seems too smart to let himself get trapped like that. If anything, he’d be the one taking advantage of someone.” You drum your fingers on the hood of the rusted car. “Why do you think he hired you? I mean why you specifically?”

The young man shrugs. “Because no one else wanted the job, I guess.”

“Except someone did. The previous guard did.”

Mike looks pensive. “I did notice…and it could be nothing, it’s hard to sort through the smug bullshit, but…Raglan’s entire demeanor changed when he read my last name. He literally froze mid sentence and leaned forward to get a better look at me. It’s like he recognized me, somehow. But I swear we’ve never met before that.”

Your fingers still. “Your brother.”

“Garrett? What about him?”

“You said he disappeared. Granted not from the pizzeria, but still. Raglan possibly knew your brother. He could be the one who took him.”

“From a campground all the way in Nebraska?” The guard scoffs in disbelief. “Why? And what about Afton?”

“Maybe he worked for him, with him, or…no. I just can’t picture Raglan being subservient to anyone. He’d be the man in charge. His ego is too fucking big.”

“It just doesn’t add up. I mean, if the guy wanted me dead, wouldn’t he have killed me already? I am really lost.” He shakes his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

There’s something scratching at the edges of your thoughts, just out of reach. You’re so close to the truth.

“Mike,” you say softly, the pieces of the puzzle finally coming together. “Raglan isn’t covering for Afton. He didn’t work for him, or with him. He is Afton,” you whisper.

***

Mike offers to take you to lunch that afternoon after a quick nap and you accept, on the condition that he lets you treat him the next time.

It’s surprising how easily you get along. Rock paper scissors decides on a sub shop and your bring your lunch to a picnic table outside, enjoying the warm spring weather.

The certainty that your hunch is correct has you excited. You’re just not sure where to go from here. Knowing is one thing; proving quite another.

“I’ve got about an hour before I have to go pick Abby up from school and drop her off at our Aunt’s house. I really miss Max, she was so good with her,” he sighs, taking a large bite of his layered sandwich.

“Abby?” You frown, stuffing a French fry in your mouth.

“My little sister. She’s eight. I’ve been raising her ever since our mom died and my dad couldn’t handle it.”

You freeze. “Wait a minute. You didn’t tell me you had a sister.”

“I didn’t think it mattered.” He cracks open a plastic bottle of soda and takes a long swallow.

“It’s extremely relevant,” you say, pushing your meal away.

“Why?”

“Because this is exactly what we need to draw Raglan—Afton— out. He won’t be able to resist, especially given your history with him.”

Mike glances at you in disbelief. “You want to use my baby sister as bait for a serial child murderer? Absolutely not.” He takes another drink and sets the bottle down firmly, causing the fluid inside to foam and slosh around.

“She’s not going to be in any real danger. I promise I’ll get her out of there as soon as possible. I just need to lure him there.”

“No. I can’t put her in any danger. I’m already doing a shit job at parenting and I’m not going to expose her to that slime.”

“You’re not doing a shit job. You both have been through hell. There aren’t a lot of people who could manage what you do on a daily basis.” You shake your head. “I don’t know how else to do this, Mike. We need to catch him before anyone else gets hurt.”

“He’ll kill her,” Mike says, his voice threatening to crack with emotion.

“No. I won’t let that happen.”

“He’ll kill her, just like he killed Garrett.”

“You don’t know for certain that he’s—“

“—Yeah, I do.” He cuts you off. “I’ve always known,” he adds quietly. “And it’s my fault. I should have been keeping a better eye on him.”

You rest a hand on his sleeve. “Mike, listen to me. That wasn’t your fault. And I swear to you, I won’t let him get away with this ever again.”

Still refusing to meet your eyes, he fiddles with the cap from the soda bottle, spinning it over the table’s rough surface. “How are you going to stop him?”

You clap your hand down over his, halting his movements and drawing his gaze.

“I’m going to kill him,” you vow.

***

Abby Schmidt is both exactly like and completely opposite from her older brother.

The physical resemblance is notable, both sharing the same dark chocolate shade of hair and eyes and fair skin. But there the similarities ended.

Ever since the overall clad child had settled into the back seat of her brother’s car, she’d been appraising you, confidently asking a series of probing questions about who you were, how you’d met Mike, and what your intentions were.

You humor her, noting the equal parts fond and exasperated glances in the rear view mirror that her sibling exchanges. He mouths a silent apology to you and you smirk, ducking your head to hide the gesture. In another time, in another place, this might have been just a sweet afternoon between siblings and a new friend. The harsh reality of what you’re really doing wipes the smile from your face and you grow sullen and silent, staring out the window.

Moments later Mike pulls into the parking lot outside of the pizzeria, where your own vehicle is waiting.

“Sit in the car for a minute, ok? We have some grown up stuff to discuss.” He shuts the door, deliberately ignoring the scowl the young girl offers him.

“You’re sure he’s coming, right?”

“I said everything you told me to say. That I couldn’t find a sitter and needed to bring her to work.” He shivers. “I feel really disgusting doing this.”

“I’m sorry. I wish there was another way to get him here. I just don’t know what else to do. If we keep waiting, and he never makes a misstep, and more people die…”

“Please promise me you’re going to get him.”

“I promise,” you say.

He nods, jerking open the rear door and signaling his sister to exit.

“Don’t run ahead okay? Stay with me.”

Mike exchanges one last glance with you and then guides Abby to the entrance, taking her hand as they depart. You enter your car, taking a drink from the water bottle stashed in the cup holder and ease the car out of the parking space, finding a spot partly sheltered from view in the rear of the building by a cluster of overgrown brush.

The trap has been laid. There is nothing left to do now but wait.

***

The daylight is just fading when you see a familiar sedan easing into a spot near a row of dumpsters. Steve Raglan—or William Afton— emerges slowly, casually shutting the door and jingling the keyring in his hands. You can faintly hear him humming, the melody creeping in through your cracked driver’s side window.

“I’ve got you now, you son of a bitch.” You drain the last of the water from the bottle, shove your keyring in your pocket and push the door open with your foot, immediately reaching for your weapon as you exit. You think briefly the lack of sleep you’ve been getting since you started this investigation must be catching up with you, your movements awkward, reflexes stuttering slightly. You’ve lost sight of Afton and you curse, frantically scanning the darkening area.

“Checkmate.”

You turn around, elbows locking, gun aiming towards your target.

“It’s over, Afton,” you growl, struggling to keep your hands steady. Nerves. It’s just nerves. Adrenaline making you shake.

“William,” he corrects, smirking. “Finally figured it out. Good girl. I knew you had it in you.”

“Whatever. You’re not getting away with it this time.” You blink away a bead of sweat tracking down your forehead.

“I’m sorry, but you’re very mistaken.” He takes a step closer and you tighten your grip on the gun.

“Don’t move.”

“Have you ever shot anyone before, Detective?”

“If you think I have any qualms about unloading this into you—“

“Not at all. I admire your proclivity toward violence. It’s one of your many appealing characteristics. Here, I’ll even make it easier for you,” he says, taking another step forward and closing the distance between you.

Your hands tremble, nearly dropping the weapon. A wave of dizziness and nausea rolls through you.

“Your aim is a bit off. You’re not going to hit anything vital that way. Try aiming here.” His fingers curve around the barrel, gently pulling it so the opening rests against his chest above his heart.

“Something…something is wrong.” Your vision is blurring and there’s a roaring sound in your ears like an oncoming freight train. “What did you…”

Afton lifts the gun from your hands and lays it on the hood of the car, turning back just in time to catch you as your knees give out.

“A little gift I put in your water earlier. It never fails. Something I discovered years ago. Odorless and tasteless and dissolves into a clear substance. Always worked great with the children. I haven’t tried an adult before you, but it seems I got the dosage correct.”

“You bastard,” you curse, struggling to remain conscious. You clutch fistfuls of his shirt, desperate to stay upright.

“You’re mine now,” he says as your body surrenders to oblivion.

***

You awaken to the worst headache of your life.

Your eyes feel full of sand, each blink torture. Your mouth has an odd cottony feel. The nausea still lingers. You attempt to move and realize you’ve been bound to a table, you wrists at your sides and your legs spread, ankles secured at each corner of the end of the steel slab.

“Awake now, are we? Good. I was getting lonely. Mike is terrible company.”

“What… what did you do to him? And Abby?” Your voice is rough, foreign in your ears.

“Both having a nap, like you just did. Only theirs is going to last much longer. The children will see to that. I want to take my time with you,” he purrs, leaning closer so that his breath is hot against your skin.

“Children?” You blink in confusion.

“Ah. I forget you haven’t met them yet. And likely never will at this rate. Well, suffice it to say you’ve missed out on the best kept secret here at Freddy’s. I suppose there’s no point in hiding the truth any longer. Your precinct really fumbled the ball each and every time. The best way to hide something is to stash it in plain sight. Or, in this case, the animatronics. Adults don’t fit as easily inside the costumes of course but, well…I make it work,” he replies, grinning.

“You sick, twisted fuck. You’re not going to get away with this.”

“You said that earlier; yet, here we are. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have, sweetheart. You’re not going to win.” He drags the back of his hand across your cheek, letting his fingers come to rest in the hollow at the base of your throat.

Bending forward, his lips brush yours and you’re too startled to react. One hand knots in your hair as he licks a trail from your neck up to your mouth. His tongue parts that barrier and strokes along yours. You catch his lower lip between your teeth and bite down as hard as you can, drawing blood.

William moves back, looking surprised but not angry. He touches the wounded area and sucks the blood off his fingers.

“Okay. Let’s play.”

You hear the sound of metal dragging across steel and then see him holding a butcher knife in his hand. The blade slices across the first two buttons of your blouse and snakes beneath, the flat of the weapon resting cool against your skin, teasing before it slices a line just beneath your collarbone.

You cry out, pelvis arching up, straining against your bonds.

“Shhhh. I would hold still if I were you,” he soothes, smoothing back your hair with his free hand while the other skims behind the button on your slacks. “Now I know you’ve got some nice lingerie in your collection. The question is, do you save that for special occasions, or do you wear it to work? My guess is a little of both. Sometimes you splurge, treat yourself, enjoy the feel of lace and satin when you’re out meting justice.” He yanks down the zipper and smiles when black lace panties are revealed. “And lucky me, today is one of those days.”

“I needed to do fucking laundry.”

“I like my version better,” he replies placidly, dipping fingers underneath the waistband. “Can’t be that busy if you found time to wax,” he murmurs, snaking lower until he’s reached your mound, then pauses. “I can make this feel like heaven, or I can send you straight to hell. Your choice.”

“Fuck you.”

“As you wish.” He picks up the knife, making another cut this time right below your navel.

You whimper in pain, biting your lip to keep from yelling. You won’t give him that satisfaction.

“No, don’t do that. I want to hear you.” He digs the blade deeper into your belly and you cannot help but obey, crying out. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. Ever since you first came into my office, I knew I had to have you. You just couldn’t help yourself either, could you? Couldn’t stay away. Had to follow me. Had to find an excuse to get me here. I saw right through your little ruse, of course, but…well, I hope you enjoyed that feeling of triumph, however mistaken it was, for as long as it lasted.” His fingers replace the knife, streaking through the blood then sliding across your clit.

You protest, writhing, but it only spurs him on. He thrusts a pair of fingers inside your entrance, his thumb working on the outside. Your body betrays you as it responds to his ministrations, becoming slick. He pauses long enough to take a taste, eyes rolling back in his head and then he renews his efforts, dipping forward so his face hovers above yours. You hate that it feels good, that he seems to know exactly what you like. You’re forgetting the stinging pain of your injuries already, focusing on the pleasure building in a warm knot inside of you. He kisses you again, gently this time, and you can taste his blood mingling with your juices. He coaxes the orgasm from you moments later and you moan into his mouth.

Disgust fills you as the pleasure subsides. Tears prick your eyes and you turn your face away.

“Don’t be like that. I know you enjoyed it.”

You remain silent.

Afton grabs your chin and turns your face towards him but then abruptly releases you, his eyes becoming glassy and unfocused, head cocked as if to better hear something.

“You'll have to forgive me, but it seems I’m going to have to interrupt our little session for the time being. Your friend is waking up.” He sighs, flicking aside strands of your hair with the blade, the flat edge coming to rest on your throat. “I’ll be back,” he promises, then the threatening weight is lifted and Afton walks away, leaving you behind, bound to the table, trapped in the depths of Parts and Service.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

In The Name Of Love 💌 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Headcanon

Link to my TGM masterlist

Thank y’all so much for 900 followers!!! 🥹♥️ I appreciate all the love and support and can’t wait to share all my works with you lovely people 🥹 much more to come so stay tuned !!

Content Warnings: age gap (since LP was born in 1993 & probably canonically Bob was too, then lets imagine you were born in 1984-1985, also im basing this as though the setting for TGM is 2022 Instead of 2019), suggestive content, profanity, NSFW content below the cut. Also title of the song references a line in “pour some sugar on me” by Def Leppard which will be mentioned in this. Female!reader (she/her)

Bob falling in love with a woman older than him would look like:

Okay so envision you’re like 8 1/2 almost 9 ish years older than Bob & y’all didn’t meet until he was in his mid 20s—like roughly 26 and you were 35. By then he was already a Top Gun graduate and you were a civilian contractor who was very educated in astrophysics and aeronautical engineering, so it wasn’t a surprise when the school would call you back for some insight. You weren’t Bob’s instructor, in fact you didn’t formally meet him until the graduation ceremony where he accidentally bumped into you causing wine to spill on your dress.

“O-oh my gosh—I’m so sorry ma’am. I wasn’t paying attention—,” poor guy was embarrassed as hell and literally rushed to get napkins to help you. Thankfully your outfit was a simple, elegant black colored dress because if was fall so you tried to tell him it was okay and when y’all locked eyes Bob swore the Earth stopped spinning. Heat filled his veins, cheeks going bright red as he muttered a curse word before apologizing again—this time for his language. You were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life and the when he heard your voice, Bob felt like he could listen to it forever. Offering to replace your drink you followed Bob to the bar where you two fell into a conversation. That’s when you found out he was a WSO stationed at Lemoore and he graduated from the Naval Academy 5 years prior.

You pieced it together quickly you were quite a bit older than Bob—which was by almost a decade. At first it worried you when you started to feel attraction for him because most men in their 20s were typical bachelors and playboys who just wanted a quick fuck. They were immature, greedy, thought with the head between their legs and not the one attached to their necks. You dated playboys in college, and then in your 20s focused on building a career than having relationships. Now in your 30s you were hoping to find someone to share life experiences with and settle down. You never thought it would be with someone younger than you, but Bob seemed to be changing that opinion by the minute.

And who could blame you? In the few hours you two spent together at the ceremony & at The Hard Deck for the after party the attraction was so natural. Bob was handsome, intelligent, sweet, attentive, and hung onto every word you said. When you causally mentioned the year you graduated college and had been a Top Gun contractor for nearly a decade Bob didn’t even react. You kept doing that, mentioning details that were enough for him figure out you were much older than him. It was more so to see if he would get turned off and feel more drawn to flirting or conversing with someone closer to his age, but Bob never once gave you any indication that your age bothered him. When he excused himself at one point you thought that was it, that he had finally come to his senses or something, but then he returned with another glass of wine for you and water for him. “Why do you look so surprised?” “I…I thought you.. it’s stupid—I just thought you realized I was too old for you and would be better off with someone closer to your age.” “Forgive me, Y/n, if i’m being too forward but there’s no one else I’d rather be with right now. The age difference between us doesn’t bother me at all and I would love to continue getting to know you better if you let me. But if you don’t feel comfortable, I completely understand.”

In the beginning of your relationship with Bob, there was the feeling it wouldn’t work because of the age difference but within weeks your worries went away. You two were like perfect pieces to a puzzle, fitting so well you believed Bob was the person you’d been looking for. The WSO was very romantic when it came to you. Whatever your love language was, Bob was a natural at giving it whether it be physical touch, words of affirmation, gifts, acts of service or quality time. A big concern you had with dating a man younger than you was the idea of having to look after them like a mother would, but Bob never made you feel that way. You were his equal and Bob made sure you always felt that way. He was very mature, financially supported on his own with a great career, and could keep up with you in every way possible. Literally 😉

In Bob’s eyes, you were the definition of perfection. You were beautiful inside and out, insanely intelligent, witty, and made him laugh to the point of tears. Like you, Bob also had worries in the beginning. He thought you’d get bored of him, would think he was childish and were better off with someone your own age. But the more dates y’all went on and the weeks turning into months, Bob foresaw a future with you he was determined to have. He grew to love you so much that you being older was never something he thought of. Bob wanted to wake up every morning to you, fall asleep with you in his arms, go on long drives at night when neither of you could sleep, walk the beach, go to concerts of your favorite bands and artists, attend festivals and conventions. Have kids if that was what you wanted and simply grow old together.

Soon the whole age thing became more of a teasing lighthearted joke whenever you referenced something from the 80s/90s or he explained a popular meme you didn’t understand. Even when he proposed there was a joke somewhere in it, but again it was all in the name of love.

Speaking of in the name of love, we all know #Bobfucks and man’s definitely surprised you when y’all’s sex life was kicked into action. He loves when you call the shots and put him into place whenever y’all argue—boy does he get hard as a rock when you call him by his full name and wants you to take your anger/stress out on him—but Bob also knows how to take control….which you absolutely love. Remember you two are equals, but when it comes to the bedroom that’s when y’all can let fantasies play out and share them with each other. you are having to deal with a lot at work and being in charge of dumb people gets you pent up that when you come home you just want Bob to dominate you. And he sure as hell does with pleasure, but will do whatever you want him to. If you want it slow and sensual he’ll make love to you all night long….but if you want it fast and rough then don’t expect to walk the next day.

And Lord have mercy if a song you two enjoy fucking to comes onto the radio when y’all are driving. One time you were coming home from dinner when Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me,’ blasted on 80s on 8 and you gave him that look….Bob literally pulled off to the side of the road where he fucked you right in the back seat until the song was over. You more than likely have more experience than him and can teach him new things, but don’t get it twisted, Bob will surprise you. Your favorite thing is when y’all go to banquets and stand on opposite sides, but stare at one another with teasing looks and gestures to see how long the other breaks. One time you were getting hit on by an older officer, who blatantly ignored the ring on your finger, and Bob swooped in after you gave him that look again ….. the officer heard your screams of pleasure when he passed the mens restroom on his way out.

Family and friends were surprised when they learned about y’all’s age gap. Everyone thought you guys were the same age and although they were shocked at first they long forgot about it and never once made comments that made you two feel insecure. Your family loved Bob and thought he was perfect for you. They were so happy when y’all got married and the same was for his family. They adored you and saw how their son was smitten with you that they always forgot you were older than him by some years. Bob did sometimes get playfully teased by his friends because they were like, “Dating an older woman, hot.” (If you got that reference pls let me know lmao.)

Like when you both got called back to Top Gun for the uranium mission where Bob was a candidate and you were the civilian contractor asked to run the calculations and tests to make sure everything was in order. At the Hard Deck the night you got in, Bob had arrived early because you had a meeting with Cyclone, Warlock, and Maverick, which meant he got to meet the team before you. A lot of the team knew you from their time as students at Top Gun including Rooster, Phoenix, Payback, Hangman, and Coyote. You can bet they were all surprised to find out you and Bob were married, but a whole different reaction came the next day when Phoenix saw your class ring said the same college she attended and asked what year you graduated. The second you said 2006 some jaws dropped, snapping their glance to Bob with Hangman whistling as he smirked, “Damn, Baby on Board. It didn’t pass me to think you were into them older women. I’m a little jealous you managed to cuff the hottest contractor at North Island.” You simply rolled your eyes, made a witty comeback that had the others go ‘oooh,’ which in turn had Bob blush—not to mention you whispered something dirty in his ear to boost his confidence and remind him he was the only man for you.

You know, you thought when you entered your 30s single that it was going to be like that for the rest of your life if you didn’t find someone close in age or older who wanted the same things as you did. But that all changed when you met the sweet, adorable and lovable blue eyed man that was Robert Floyd. He changed your outlook on a lot of things, but most importantly that you anything is possible in the name of love.

………………

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry

[frodothefair]

Numbers 9 and 13 for the ask game, perhaps?? Also congrats on finishing the Rivendell story!! I saw that was up and I know you've been working hard on it!!

The ask game in question

9. Top three fics you’ve written (in author’s opinion)? ♡♡♡

Hmm. I'll limit this just to the ones currently published as I'd rather not discuss my past anime fic writing career on this space. There are only three fics currently published. I'd rank them as follows:

Rivendell (thanks for the congrats, btw! It was fun to write!) This is simply because it's actually a finished, cohesive piece. I know I said I might write more, and likely still will, but the way it is now works as a shandalone.

Flowers of Mordor. This is because it’s still not written all the way to the end, and I am still not 100% happy with a couple of the chapters in the middle, so am putting them through another round of edits. But overall it's my longest-running project to date, and also my longest fic ever (there may have been one prior fic that just crossed the 100k mark), and of course I love the way Marigold turned out, as well as Frodogold as a couple.

Expats. The fun first chapter got written, but I don't know if I have what it takes to write the whole story, because heck if I know anything about how Hollywood works, especially its more unsavory parts. But then again... if it's just fanfiction, how accurate does it really have to be when it's all in good fun?

13. Drop a playlist for a story! ♪♡♪

Ok, um. You have to realize you asked for this. You have only yourself to blame. A lot of the songs on my fic playlists have to do with not just the overall gestalt and concepts of the fic, but specific scenes and even lines, and I am here to explain it all.

Here's the definitive playlist for Flowers of Mordor. Tagging @konartiste per our special pact.

(cut for minor spoilers.... also for being long):

"Dawn" theme from the Pride and Prejudice 2005 soundtrack. A must for the Austenian vibe.

"Poppy's Song, Wandering Day" by Bear McCreary from Rings of Power. The singer sounds exactly what I think Marigold sounds like.

"I Dreamt I Dwelled in Marble Halls" as performed in the Dickensian Finale. Sam/Rosie relationship vibes. I imagine Rosie singing this song for an audience in the tavern, but looking at Sam all the while -- which is essentially what happens in the finale of Dickensian.

"Halo" by Beyoncé, arranged for strings for Bridgerton. Pippin arranges this song for violin and writes a Shire-compatible version of the lyrics as a candidate for the first dance music at the Frodogold wedding.

"I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston, arranged for strings for Bridgerton. Another candidate wedding song by Pippin.

"Tous les garçons et les filles de mon âge" by Françoise Hardy. Marigold vibes: sweet innocent girl slightly wistful that everyone her age is in a relationship and she is not... yet.

"Portugeuse Love Theme" from Love Actually. Love reunited theme.

"On my Own" from Les Miserables. Direct inspiration for the following excepts from Chapter 16: "Marigold had found herself lying awake for hours, watching the starlight in the trees and thinking, with surprising nonchalance, “Oh, dear, I guess I cannot sleep.” And when she did at long last fall asleep, then the dreams would begin, and Frodo would appear before her, and together they would walk and talk until morning." Original lines: "in the darkness the trees are full of starlight and all I see is him and me forever and forever" and "I walk with him till morning."

"Nessun Dorma" from Turandot. Needs little explanation, I think. Frodo is an insomniac.

"In Dreams" by Roy Orbison. But when Frodo does sleep, he has a lot of dreams.

"Dreams are My Reality" from the movie La Boum. Again a reference to Frodo's many dreams.

"Babylon" by David Gray. Inspiration for the scene where Marigold kicks through the autumn leaves in Chapter 13.

"May it Be" by Enya. Probably needs no explanation either.

"Everywhere" by Michelle Branch. Vibes of Marigold being in unrequitedly in love and seeing Frodo in everything around her, wondering if he feels the same.

"Flora's Secret" by Enya. Vibes of Marigold and Frodo lying in the grass, holding hands and staring at the sky grinning like idiots.

"Don't Talk To Me About Tomorrow" by Sandra Lisa. A song the Gamgee family ensemble would perform poorly but enthusiastically at... oh, Midsummer or something.

"Love The Way You Lie" by Eminem ft. Rihanna. Directly referenced by this except in Chapter 20: "She loved him so much that she could not deny him. Even if he said that she should burn, she would burn. And even if he said that he would watch her, there, at the edge of that forest – watch her with indifferent eyes as she screamed and burned to death – she would only have welcomed it; she would have only been glad of such an end." Original line: "gonna stand there and watch me burn? That's alright, because I love the way you lie."

"Black Sheep" by Metric. Referenced by the following line in Chapter 3: "And then there was him and Sam, lying on a rock amid flows of lava, waiting for the world to end." Original line: "hello again, friend of a friend, our common goal was waiting for the world to end."

"Concerning Hobbits" from The Lord of the Rings. No explanation needed, again.

"Je suis malade" by Lara Fabien. Vibes of Marigold screaming in the woods in chapter 20.

"Blue Hydrangeas" by Lana Del Rey. Chapter 8 is literally called "Of Lembas and Hydraneas," and Bag End is referenced as having blue hydrangeas in the garden. Blue hydrangeas symbolize regret. Also, it's repeatedly mentioned that Marigold would run to Frodo if only he called her... though in the end she... actually does not? Not immediately? Because you don't jerk someone around for months and then get away with it scot-free.

"The Rosenkavalier Suite" by Richard Strauss. It has like three lovely waltzes rolled into one, and Frodo must teach Marigold something similar to a waltz for their first dance together at the wedding.

“Here we come a-caroling” as performed by Blackmore’s Night. The Gamgee a slightly modified version of this song in Chapter 19 while caroling on Yuletide Eve.

Béma above... what did I just spend 30 minutes of my life on? Lol.

[nonbinarygerard]

this is a rant about AI generated art because I am enraged.

if you want to hear a professional artist speak on AI art more elegantly than me then I highly recommend Steven Zapata’s video. he said everything better than I ever could: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tjSxFAGP9Ss&t=5s

the more i learn about AI art the more i literally believe in like 10 years or so we will somehow live in a worst capitalist dystopia where most artistic professional jobs don't exist. You pay a subscription fee to some AI company that just spits out art, movies, comics, novels etc whatever you want on mass, so fast, that art will be personalised to you as in you know how google and other companies track you everywhere on the internet well so will AI companies. they’ll know you more than you know yourself. their algorithms will be fine-tuned just to ur tastes. you won't even need to type in prompts, it will do it for you and show you hundreds, thousands, of art in your feed. You can scroll forever and the algorithm will just make more art. the AI will be so trained to keep ur retention, making ur session time longer and longer and you’ll lose more hours.

Like how many tiktoks do you actually remember? vs how many hours do you stay on the app? do you think the time you spend on tiktok is worthwhile? i use tiktok as an example bc that's only the start of how good AI algorithms can get. give them a few more years with more silicon valley companies competing to be the next big app and they’ll get smart and better in ways you can never imagine.

in the eyes of companies, humans make flaws and humans take too long to make art. it's ripe for automation. companies don't give a fuck about real art and human expression. they only care about profit, profit, profit. what all tech companies want is ur time, your attention, they want to fill all ur waking moments with their products. literally billions of dollars have already been put into AI and though some of the AI art right now might be cringe or just funny, it wont be at some point. In a few months, years, decades, who knows, it will a lot more indistinguishable from human art. that's going to be a problem. you're not going to be able to avoid it because you're not going to be able to what was made by a human and what was made by an AI.

you may think that humans will stop watching or consuming AI art that is bland and seems well AI generated but thats the thing, it will always evolve. In fact companies might just make up fake people to say it was made by and you will never know how much of it was made by humans and how much was made by AI algorithms. if you dont think at some point a bunch of big budget movies, video games, tv shows etc wont be written by AI when it's possible to create a script that doesn't seem like it's written by an AI then you’re crazy.

its going to be a lot harder to make living if you’re not one of the top artists because how the fuck do you compete again AI. you can’t and that’s the point.

its so fitting for evil capitalists that they would rather fund billions of dollars into AI that was designed to replace artists than ever pay artists fair wages.

i dont think people will stop creating art but i do think that a lot of professionals are going to find a hard time keeping their careers without serious changes. you really cant become a master of ur craft without being a professional artist, it just takes that long to gain the experience, knowledge and insight to walk in the footsteps of the masters before. thats what art is. hard work, dedication and discipline. its not something that only a divine few who have the gifts of the gods can do. anyone can become a master artist it just takes devoting ur life to pursue your craft and what a fucking insult it is for billionaires to just fund their extreme amount of money into some goddam shaddy af AI companies to replace professional artists' job, well thats their hope anyway.

this isnt the same like photography was to painting or digital was to traditional. its true that those technological innovations did destroy a lot of jobs but also created new artistic jobs, and they did have massive effects on the industry and i dont want to minimize the number of people who’s careers were destroyed bc of it. But those were massive changes in tools. They didn't actually replace the concept of artists themselves. AI is meant to do as much, if not all, of the artists work for them, so artists don't need to exist in a professional sense.

why would a games company hire concept artists if an AI can come up with hundreds of different concepts in a matter of seconds? maybe human artists might be better but when the AI is good enough a company won't give a shit.

I dont know when this change will happen or how it will occur and how people will react to it but mark my words these AI companies are going to try to make it happen while maintaining the face of just their just simply pushing human progress and this was somehow just a natural evolution of technology.

none of this was natural it was funded by billionaires.

this is not even to mention how these AI’s train on copyrighted artworks with no permission from the artists. and this process is not like how humans learning from other artists, AI’s dont think, they just copy, steal, combine artworks very fast and on mass scale in away no human could ever do. You cant compare how AI’s and how humans learn. there are not the same no matter how big shot programmers try to make them more similar, AI is a machine we could never do what it does. and it is stealing from artists every time it generates art.

I study programming and literally you dont even know the number of jobs there are in AI. its a field that's expanding every day. it's not just a few companies but every big tech company putting massive resources into it. for them, algorithms are the future of humanity.

I am not saying there isn't some actually usefulness in AI created images for example i think getting insane highly specific poses and references at the click of a button is extremely useful but that's just a by-product of what these AI companies want out of their product. they are meant to replace artists' jobs by the click of a button. that's their dream.

AI companies dont care about integrity or intention or the artistic cannon or mastering one’s craft. Companies don’t pour billions of dollars into a technology just for it to be used for meme culture or quirky images. Every time you type in a prompt you are training the AI, its how neural networks work, by releasing them for free to the public you are training the AI for them. and they will train faster than you ever thought. i cant even imagine what the AI images will look like this time next year and they will improve drastically. mark my words.

You are a fool if you dont think AI won’t have a massive and very dystopian effect on society. Capitalism is somehow killing art even more.

maybe you think I’m being dramatic and I hope I am wrong but there is no doubt that AI generated art will change commercial and professional art as we know it.

[aliveandfullofjoy]

Review: The Fabelmans (Spielberg, 2022)

"Art will give you crowns in heaven and laurels on Earth, but also, it will tear your heart out and leave you lonely."

The Fabelmans is a film that's been so heavily marketed as Steven Spielberg's Love Letter To The Movies, but I'm not sure I buy it. There's a lot going on in The Fabelmans, and some of it is definitely an ode to the escapist power of cinema -- one of the first things Michelle Williams says is "Movies are dreams that you never forget" -- but it's almost a cover for the darker, thornier ideas at work here.

Much of The Fabelmans feels so confessional and personal that it's almost hard to watch. Spielberg's parents divorcing was the single most formative event of his childhood, and it's fair to say it directly led to his career as one of the most iconic and influential filmmakers in American history, The way he and co-writer Tony Kushner dramatized the context surrounding the divorce in this film is genuinely devastating. This is largely thanks to the two wildly different performances from Williams and Paul Dano. Williams' Mitzi is a woman who seems to feel every emotion deeply and fully, and her performance is appropriately larger-than-life. Dano's Bert is her opposite, a soft-spoken man of reason and logic who can't seem to figure out where their marriage fell apart. Both Williams and Dano are tremendous actors, and it's fascinating to see them essentially swap modes here (Williams does quietly devastated better than almost anyone, while Dano is scarily good in loud, over-the-top roles). I honestly think I need to see the film again to fully figure out where I land on their performances here (especially Williams, who is doing some extremely interesting work), but their shared sense of history is beautiful to watch.

The most disarming thing about The Fabelmans is the way Spielberg tells on himself. As far as I can tell, he's never bared his soul this directly onscreen before. There's a single, wordless moment in the inevitable scene where the Fabelman parents are telling their children they're getting a divorce that basically acts as the film's thesis. With his sisters sobbing around him, Sammy (Gabriel LaBelle) has fully dissociated. We see the scene from his vantage point, looking down on the living room from the stairs, and as we slowly zoom into a mirror on the mantle, we see Sammy's reflection rush past holding a camera, imagining one of the most painful moments of his life as a scene in a film. The moment comes and goes so fast, but it's haunted me for a month, and it drives home the quote at the top of this review perfectly. That quote, spoken by Uncle Boris (a scenery-chewing Judd Hirsch), and that mirror shot are the whole point of the film. This isn't a film about the magic of storytelling -- or rather, it isn't just about that -- it's a film about loneliness and obsession in the artistic process. The Fabelmans isn't Spielberg's Belfast; it's his Sunday in the Park with George.

Some stray thoughts to wrap this up: LaBelle is freakishly good in this movie; the war movie scenes are so good; the Christian girlfriend stuff is so funny; the climactic scene where Sammy "discovers" his mother's affair while editing home videos is absolutely stunning; the scene with the bully in the hallway is magical; in fact, the entire last half hour is some god-tier stuff, especially the ending (David Lynch!) and the screamingly perfect final shot.

It's funny: I liked this movie just fine as I was leaving the theater, but now, writing about it a month later, I find myself completely overwhelmed with emotion. Turns out I liked it a lot more than I thought. That's the work of a great filmmaker, I guess.

[uselessopinionsaroundfood]

Contre-Champ - Lyon France - 9/8/2024

You ever notice how the second glass of French wine makes everything okay?  Sitting at dinner, worrying about the career, the kids, the finances, and then glass two hits, and you think, I could time share a jet if I just sold my house, and what a life it would be.  Then comes the second dish so rich with egg whites and butter that you start to come back to reality/sobriety. And you find yourself thankful for the food in front of you and that you don’t have a middle seat for De Gaulle to LAX.  But I digress; let’s start at the beginning before glass 1. 

No one in France eats at 5 pm, sorry 17:00. It's just not a thing. Dinner places don't offer reservations before 7. If your life is Orlando, early bird dinners do not go to France; if you do, you'll basically be eating at the time you're normally in a nightgown, lining up your medications for tomorrow. Was that pink one for tonight? Might as well take it now. But because I've got work tomorrow I'm taking the 7 pm reservation, and I know I'll basically have a private restaurant because no local shows up before 8. But I've got to eat, so taking what I can get. 

Work ends early, so I head into old town Lyon a couple of hours before dinner; I want to explore the city. And much like other European cities, Lyon is not afraid of some narrow, very steep stairs that lead to a church with an amazing view. So I imagine myself on the stair master and climb the mountain to the top and take in all the beauty of an old European city, minus the giant high rise Radisson hotel. The rain is starting to fall, so I buy the last umbrella at the church gift shop (where I can also buy a church drink coaster, just as I imagine Jesus wanted) and start the walk back down the hill. I've still got time, so I happened upon a cute little cafe and popped my head in. The barista speaks fluent English and welcomes me with a smile. I'm not hungry, but there is a cookie in the case that keeps yelling at me, so I order a cortado and the cookie, and she clears a seat for me at a shared table. If you've read my previous review of Le Supréme you know how I feel about how i can't find any butter in France, but good news, I found it. They've been hiding it all in this cookie. And I'm happy they did. Two types of chocolate (milk and dark), and then maybe there was some flour mixed in with the butter, but it was soft like it had just come out of the oven and everything you could want in a cookie bite after bite. Even in a cookie, they found a way for two chocolates to each have their own tasty lane.  I also bought two bottles of green chartreuse there. You can't find it in the States right now, and Lyon seems to know it and is teasing tourists as they have so much of it that they are selling it as gifts at a local coffee shop. 

But this is all filler for my next meal. A restaurant recommended by the chef from Le Supréme. Now he had the caveat that he had not eaten at this restaurant but liked the chef.  I showed up a little wet from the rain thanks to Jesus' flimsy umbrella, and they sat me at the window counter. I get why they sat me there, I was a single, but the restaurant was empty enough at opening that I could have laid across three tables and been just fine. I took my spot and watched tourists race through the rain, and saw the romance of France play out again and again with young local couples focused on each other more than the storm above them. 

And then it was time to eat. The server was lovely and brought me a menu that set the feel of the evening. It was a single piece of paper and the menu was written as spiral, so you had to turn it to read all the details of each dish. I didn't get a reason why for the design, but it felt unnecessary. I went with it, let's see where this whimsical menu takes us. I ordered a glass of wine recommended by the server, a French Chardonnay that goes against everything California believes in and was bright and minerally and delicious. They started me with an amuse-bouche of lentil caviar with a lemon cream base. It came in a tin caviar can but was enough for 3 people. I ate about half. I soon learned that they normally give it to two people to share. Maybe because I'm American they thought I'd want all of it, and deep fry it too please. This was a great starter, but two bites would have been enough to begin the meal.  

I then ordered the foie gras and foie gras cake as an appetizer, which came as a flat green dish. The topping was a spinach puree with micro greens and croutons, and under that was a thin layer of foie gras pate/mousse. I also got a Basket of bread with the dish, still no butter.  Is there a cow shortage in France?  The presentation was gorgeous, but the execution was missing. I wanted to taste the foie gras, but the layer on top was so prevalent that I found myself scraping the top off to taste the mousse. It was a flavorful dish, but when all the ingredients were tasted together they didn't each have their own role, then blended into a flat flavor where it was hard to distinguish the goal of the combination of ingredients. But it's foie gras, so I still ate it. 

The next course I could have chosen a confit of confit pork belly, but I felt like with my starter fish was the way to go, and my server recommended it. The dish came out and it resembled hospital food, albeit on a nicer plate. It was cooked well, maybe a little overdone, but what was most disappointing was that without the sauce it was almost flavorless.  The sauce was a brown butter foam, with what tasted a bit like horseradish, but maybe that was the garlic. It helped the fish a lot, but it became one note after a few bites.  What I believe was an endive helped add dimension when I added that to the fish and foam, but overall, I wasn't going to write home about the fish, other than this review, which is writing home about the dish. 

I skipped dessert, having watched my neighbor try the mushroom ice cream and review it with "interesting."  

All in all, great service, nice setting but the food had the issue of blending its flavors rather than layering ingredients where they could each stand out and make every bite memorable. 

Lyon is known for its food, and when done right, it's a memory that lasts a lifetime. So, make sure if you come here to find the places that make memories. You've only got one shot to fill up your guest book.

[goldmaneite]

What no one is saying but is thinking… a sponsored (read gun) female edition

Today we are here to uncover the inner workings of wall street’s most “prestigious” and “glorified” investment bank without directly naming which one we are referring to as we’ll leave that to you all to imply (and by the way it’s doubtful things are much different elsewhere).

Investment banking’s hallowed halls have long been and continues to be the thing of an invite only boys club where the honor of being bestowed as the quota female filler is tradition. This is not to say females cannot match the capabilities of their male counterparts. Indeed they can but the already razor thin competitive advantages stacked on top of 80 hour weeks is a game of diminishing returns where those women foolish enough to try quickly realize they would be best suited to get in line behind a sponsor given they’re outnumbered in the boys club or self-select out of the industry. There’s more to be said on the diminishing returns piece but let’s focus on sponsor.

But what’s in the name sponsor? It could really be anything from an outwardly aggressive to a passively attached male counterpart. This dynamic has a direct impact on the development of the said sponsored female that is forced to flex all the wrong muscles and develops into a suboptimal banker. What do we mean? Imagine in your formative years as a banker you are not expected to develop the strategic direction of business development and instead tasked with being the execution machine dotting all the i’s and crossing all the t’s. Well what you get is a lesser banker with fewer abilities or opportunities to follow through on business development initiatives. This has knock-on effects where these women are forever considered lucky to be in their seat.

What do we mean by diminishing returns? First of all there’s no true innovation in banking but a set of tried and true tactics so your ability to outperform is negligible. Next consider the fact that everyone up and down the tenure ladder is in silent acceptance of this dynamic because who has the willpower or energy to fight the machine. The repercussions are lethal to one’s career because no longer will your tasks be placed on top of your supporting teams’ to-do lists. You’re faced with the decision to spend more time being forceful, having to persuade underlings or ply them with bribes.

How do we counteract this? Unless you have miraculously ingratiated yourself with said underlings with your nonexistent time the best hope again comes back to the sponsor component where they’re working not for the female but someone else considered most likely to scale the mountain to success. That sponsor is commonly referred to as adult supervision and is only further complicated by whether this mutually beneficial relationship is rewarded with the riches of promotions and bonuses otherwise inevitably you will get off the suicidal treadmill.

Before we close this one out it’s worth touching on the lava-like relationship of a female sponsor. They played the game better than any of their female colleagues and in our experience are the true definition of a guy’s girl. They’re not particularly skilled for the reasons mentioned before and therefore have to rely on the fumes of being likeable to their male colleagues.

[junswic]

Astro observations 1

🧝🏼‍♀️ I think it is no surprise that Aquarius and pisces rising look like elves or fairies, their ears are quite elf like, and it looks really ethereal.

🧝🏼‍♀️ In my opinion if you have a personal planet conjunct any other planet, it will effect you too, for example if you have moon conjunct saturn, you might resonate to Capricorn moons. I think we all knew this before but i wanted to put more emphasis to it 👀

🧝🏼‍♀️ cancer and gemini rising people especially men are tall, and they have really soft and youthful facial features. More so feminine to their features, they are the pretty boiis ✨✨

🧝🏼‍♀️ Leo placements get complimented on their hair alot.

🧝🏼‍♀️ Aries sun combined with pisces moon are really nice people, they are no bs people who hate dramas. They are so funny and their laugh is so adorable 🥺

🧝🏼‍♀️ I can confirm this, Capricorn placements are really materialistic like money and luxury really matters to them.

🧝🏼‍♀️When they love someone especially Capricorn venus and moon placements will buy you anything that you could ask for because that's how they show you how much you matter to them.

🧝🏼‍♀️ + example, if you just say like "oh that ring or necklace looks nice" they'll keep that in mind and then later surprise you by getting one for you 🥺🤌🏼

🧝🏼‍♀️ Aries moons are actually the sensitive ones but it comes out in an aggressive way, some of them don't even acknowledge their emotions and run away from them.

🧝🏼‍♀️ I always say this and I'll say it again that Venus-pluto, venus 8th house, venus in scorpio natives really go through a LOT because of obsessive relationships, TW - these people's past relationships are abusive, toxic, and their ex's are no less than psycho stalkers. They try to harm them, these natives have people obsessive over them, they're experience with love is so sad, it hurts.

🧝🏼‍♀️ + Even first crush or any crush experiences are always of hell, it's not easy when crushing on someone it's just complicated like you want to retreat but can't help falling for someone.

🧝🏼‍♀️ Pluto in 10th house people struggle with choosing a career because they can't make up their mind as they are interested to do so many things at the same time. They experience being outcasted at times because of how intimidating they can be with their presence. People are jealous of them and hate them for how much power the native hold over them.

Vedic

🐍 Saturn ruled nakshatras (anuradha, pushya, and uttara bhadrapada) and if saturn sits in 1st house, these people have thin and silky hair.

🐍 Saturn in 6th house people can do well in jobs which is related to helping people in some way - like financial accountant, psychologist, surgeons, and things like that. And their work field can be filled with many people around them or working with a lot of people in the work place. They may have to work for long hours too.

🐍 Sun in a women's chary represents their potential, masculine figures and how they influence their life by being in it.

🐍 Venus in mrigshira might indicate delay in Romantic relationships either they are not interested or the relationships don't workout because in mrigshira or wherever mrigshira nakshatra sits on your chart, there will be a delay, as jupiter doesn't blesses mrigshira nakshatra there's a blockage forming.

🐍 Anuradha and jyeshtha nakshatras go through alot in life, you cannot imagine the hardships they go through to become so strong and reach at the top from where they were.

🐍 8th lord in 6th house is like rags to riches, they have to do alot of hard work, giving all their blood sweat and tears for what they want to achieve and in the end they gain success.

🐍 Saturn in 6th house and 8th lord in 6th house have experiences with hidden enemies and people secretly plotting on their down fall they fail to bring these people down because they are guarded in some way

🐍 If you have a disturbed ketu then you might be familiar with experiences of dog bites, yep since ketu has a significance with dogs. I'm about this with personal experiences 🥲🤚🏼

Ok that's all for today, it may or may not resonate since these are my observations and take on certain aspects and placements.

© junswic

[yandere--stuck]

Bad Blood - Yandere!Batman x Reader x Yandere!Joker

It wasn't just The Joker who had been watching you. And to a point, you were aware of that.

After all, that just came with the territory of being a minor celebrity within Gotham city. It wasn't often that those considered "famous" in Gotham didn't either have connections to the mafia or were locked up within Arkham or Blackgate. 

As a reporter, you were watched on the news, on the streets - occasionally approached by fans, at parties where you mingled with your peers or made connections. All rather normal, really.

But, there were times when you could just feel it in your bones. You were being watched.

Like in the dark of night, the moon following you on your walk home. Alone. When the light from street lamps bathed everything in orange. The streets empty, the occasional car zooming by. It was then that you had felt watched.

It was understandable, something innate in humans, to feel frightened of the dark and the paranoia of being alone. Our imaginations run wild, and we trick ourselves into thinking that there's something out there with us. Someone following our every move, hiding just out of sight. But, no matter how many times you swore you were being watched, nothing ever happened. No muggings, no stalkers, no threats. When you got back to your apartment, unlocking and then re-locking all six of the locks on your door, you were able to let out a sigh of relief - it was just your own paranoia getting the best of you. You weren't being followed. You could relax, knowing that it was all in your head.

But, it wasn't.

Your paranoia wasn't unfounded. The shiver of your spine at the feeling of being watched wasn't your mind tricking itself. But, of course, even when you'd turn around to try and spot someone, something, you hadn't been able to see him. He had hid in the shadows and crouched atop rooftops, keeping watch over you.

He had done so every night. The moment you left the studio, to when you started your walk, and then headed home. He even stuck around to peer through your window, making sure you were truly safe. It wasn't something any of the Robins or Oracle knew about - it wasn't something they had to know. Well… It's not like he exactly lied about what he was doing during the alotted time of your walk home. But, he also didnt want to admit it, either - not that he thought what he was doing was wrong, but… He just didn't want anyone to be worried. To get the wrong idea. And it rarely took time out of his nightly patrol, just fifteen minutes. It wasn't a big deal.

He was just protecting you. That was just his job. He was supposed to protect the people of Gotham. To protect you. He just had a… Fixation, that's all. And when Bruce gets fixated on something, it's like pulling teeth for him to keep away.

Bruce met you like he does with most reporters - at a charity event. He had seen your stories on the news a few times beforehand, and braced himself for the usual song and dance - Vicki Vale trying to score something on the record for something much juicier and personal than the cause he was donating to, or perhaps Jack Ryder trying to rile him up to get him to throw a fit for a story. He was pleasantly surprised, however, when you treated him like an actual person. Sure, it could be that you were off the clock - but really, when were reporters ever really off the clock?

Most people would bend over backwards to get themselves into Brice Wayne's good graces. But, you… You talked to him like he was no different than anyone else. Maybe a bit reserved, but you had only just met, after all. In spite of this, Bruce found himself able to relax, chatting with you about the party, about your days up to then, your different careers. Bruce felt like he could actually be himself. With you, he wasn't Batman, nor was he billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. He was just… Himself.

Him and you.

He decides to stick by your side most of the evening, you and him talking long into the night. About your lives, your worries, your hobbies, your interests. It had been so long since he talked about such personal things with someone, even Alfred. And you understand. You understand his worries of responsibility, the weight of the world among his shoulders, you understand the suffocation of isolation, you under his inability to move on from the trauma of his past, try as he might. You understand. Of course you do…

You acted as someone to vent to. A listening ear. You offered up advice, even if you might not have the right answers to his problem. Sure, you might not know the full extent of his stress, but it's the thought that counts. It's almost like this night was made for you and him. 

Something like, fate - that is, if Bruce had actually believed in something like that.

After that night, he found himself making a point to watch you on the news. The way you talked on the television is how you talked with him that night. Personable, comfortable, familiar. You might not be talking to him directly, but it warms his heart and staves off the icy chill of loneliness.

He went out of his way to find you during other important, publicized events. Most likely, you probably thought it was a coincidence that you kept finding yourself in his company. You most likely thought him as just an acquaintance, nothing more… But, oh, you meant so much to him.

And, oh, when you talked about Batman? Knowing that it was him you were talking about (even if you had no idea)... He'd be lying if it didn't make him a bit flustered. Your praises, the way you saw him as an inspiration, hoping after every mission that he was alright… And when you look into the camera and say to him, to Batman, through the screen, that you wish him a nice night and to be safe…?

God. He was smitten. And, really, that was his biggest mistake.

Feelings just made things complicated. He had learned that a long time ago. That everything he touched and loved was inevitably destroyed. It's why he works alone more often than not. He doesn't want someone getting hurt because of him ever again. Bruce has enemies, and Batman has even more. 

Even if he had tried to reach out to you as Bruce, as himself, who's to say you would have wanted to be with him? Why would someone like you want Bruce Wayne - someone who most of Gotham portrayed as an immature playboy who never got over the death of his parents. While the second part wasn't exactly wrong, the whole playboy thing was just a diversion. But, how in the hell was he supposed to explain that?

It was easier to just let you go. You'd be happier, and more importantly, safer without his presence in your life.

So, he satiated himself on watching you, protecting you from the shadows, and kept himself sane by rewatching footage of you he's stashed within your home and around your apartment building. If he adored you from afar, that wouldn't hurt anything, right?

… But now, he's wishing he had just taken the chance. He had been good, had left you alone.

And he watched as the helicopter you were in was shot down. Watched as the recording cut off. Heard as you screamed at the top of your lungs. He replayed what he had seen over and over in his mind, losing himself. Bruce had gone so tense in disbelief and grief and rage that by the time Alfred had brought him back to reality, his nails had dug into the armrest of his loveseat.

He had insisted to himself later that night that  investigating the scene of the crime wasn't fueled by personal connection or any feelings he may have. It was Batman's job. And if he ignores all the other bodies in favor of one that is presumed to be yours, it's just because he notices something different about it from the other's, that's all.

The body was decomposed far beyond that of the others, and had been exposed to the elements longer than the others. And to add onto that, the DNA sample Bruce had collected was matched with a body that had been gone missing from Gotham General.

Bruce's heart fluttered with hope and relief. You were alive, you had to be. But, just as quickly, realization crashed into him. If you were alive, it's only because Joker wanted you to be.

... What was he doing to you?

---

You stared down at the meal the Clown Prince of Crime had prepared for you - well, if you could call heating up a frozen dinner "preparing". It's not like you were exactly in a place to complain, though, considering the predicament you were stuck in.

Counting the time you had spent unconscious and Joker getting you situated and up to speed, it was most likely a few hours since the incident. You were feeling rather hungry… But, in spite of all of The Joker's lovey-dovey talk, you weren't quite sure if you could trust him to not serve you poisoned food. Even worse, however, was that you were still tied up - meaning the clown had to feed you, and you were even more unsure that he wouldn't kill you if you refused to eat.

In spite of the circumstances, and the dingy place you were trapped in, it wasn't exactly the worst. Hell, Joker had even lit up some candles for some mood lighting. Not exactly the worst "date", you had been on, sadly enough.

"Ready for some grub?" The Joker lurched into view, straightening his tie as he shot you a grin. "You must have worked up quite an appetite by now, considering all the excitement!"

You smiled in return, hoping it didn't look too strained as you nodded. You watched as he got his utensils ready, cutting up some of the food into smaller bites. You kept especially close attention on the hand holding a knife - though, it wasn't like you had any way to flee if he had decided to turn it on you.

The Joker stabbed at the food with a fork, setting down the knife, as he moved to raise your meal to your lips, while you attempted not to turn your head away. The fork approached closer and closer, and you tried to rid your mind of awful thoughts, like an eye being ripped out of its socket, implanted on the fork's tongues. But, then, The Joker suddenly stopped.

"Oh, silly me! I almost forgot," The Clown Prince set down the utensils, digging into the inside of his suit. With a flourish, he unveiled a bright, colorful, and clearly plastic flower, holding it out to you. "A present for you, m'dear! Go on, take a whiff."

You shook in your seat. Oh, God. You knew exactly where this was going. He had played you this whole time, like predators played with their food. He had made you think he had developed this obsession with you and managed to lull you into a false sense of security. And just when you were sure you were going to make it out of this situation alive, he planned to hit you with his trademark laughing gas and watch as you died.

You held back tears, shivering with fear and despair. And The Joker looked so happy, so encouraging. You were going to die. You had hit the end of the road.

You leaned forward, taking a breath through your nose-

And jumped, letting out a scream as the ceiling caved in, a dark figure crashing through. You whipped your head to face it- and winced as a small stream of water hit your cheek. Blinking once, twice, three times, you slowly turned to the clown and the trick flower in his hand.

Oh. So, it was just a regular trick flower. Not a deadly one. Okay. Okay, yeah. Sure. Great.

Groaning softly, your whole body went limp. You hung your head, shaking it slowly. Whatever. Whatever happened next, you didn't care. You were too exhausted.

"Aw, c'mon, Bats! Don'tcha know it's rude to upstage someone's act?" Joker asked. "Besides, you weren't invited to our little date night..."

...Batman?

From your periphery, you could see it. See him. 

Oh, thank God. Thank fucking God. You were saved! Batman was going to save you!

All the tiredness seemed to instantly fade as you were overwhelmed with adrenaline and relief. You were saved. You were saved. Batman was going to save you. Batman was going to protect you and make sure you were all right. You didn't have to worry or be scared anymore. Batman would do all of the worrying for you.

"You broke out of Arkham, killed innocent people, and kidnapped the sole survivor after almost killing them, as well," Batman seethed, his voice a growl. "You're going back to Arkham, and I'll be taking them with me, where they'll be safe."

"Hey! First off, the whole helicopter thing wasn't me, it was one of my boys. Well… To be fair, I had intended on killing them when we downed the thing, but eh, two birds with one stone, I suppose. I wouldn't even have been mad about it, if my darling reporter here hadn't almost been hurt in the crash," The Joker moved behind you, making you seize up as he grasped your shoulders, massaging them slightly. "And really, Bats, if this is some kind of jealousy thing, you could always just ask to share."

"You're insane." Batman spat.

"Babes, you really need to get some better material," The Clown tutted. "And I was being honest! I'm actually trying to communicate here," You were suddenly spun around, locking eyes with your hero. You shuddered as the Joker nuzzled you from behind, unable to stop your face from heating up. "What do you think, darling? How's about a three-way date with me and the big bad Bat?"

"I… I-I-" You stuttered, unable to get a coherent thought put as you burned with embarrassment.

Could anyone blame you for having a little  crush on Batman? You'd bet a good majority of Gothamites felt the same toward their dear Dark Knight. Hell, you'd even bet that some of the Rogues that the Caped Crusader went up against had feelings for him. It was pretty obvious the Joker did, at least.

And the Joker… He was a monster. A criminal. But, the time you've spent with him… Well, you could better understand how Dr. Quinnzel fell for the man. Despite your knowledge of the horrible crimes he committed, the way he treated you so kindly, it was hard to not get flustered, to not feel special. It was hard to ignore his humor, his affection for you, his pet names, his sweet gestures- no, no. This- this was ridiculous. You had to stop. You weren't thinking straight.

"Get your hands off of them!" The Bat spat.

"But I don't wanna!" Joker let out an exaggerated whine, before descending into giggles. Painted lips brushed against your neck. "Besides, I don't think they want me to…"

You felt hypersensitive, the brush of the Clown's lips drawing a whine from your throat.

Your eyes shot open wide as a pained scream ripped from Joker. You turned as best you could, watching the man stumble back, clutching his hand - a batarang sticking piercing through it, blood bubbling up from the wound and dripping to the floor.

The Joker hissed, bristling with rage. "Bats, why you-!"

In an instant, Batman shot put his batclaw, the claw digging into The Joker's suit, before retracting. The Joker stumbled as he rocketed forward, his face immediately colliding with Batman's fist. Before he could fall back, the Dark Knight caught him by the throat and squeezed. The Clown wheeled and coughed in shock at the closing of his windpipe and his desperation to breathe. The Bat slowly lifted another fist - and hit the other man so hard that even you winced. You watched as Joker fell onto his back with a low groan. The Batman stood above him, glowering and breathing heavily as he looked down on his nemesis.

"Batsy, babe… Ya know I love it when you play rough, but Jesus, warn a guy first, will ya?" The Joker laughed wearily, seemingly in a daze. 

Sneering, Batman grabbed his nemesis by his coat, tossing him aside onto his stomach. His foot came down to stomp onto his arm, making the other man whimper, and the Bat reached down to rip the batarang free from his hand, and in turn, ripping a scream from Joker's throat. Pulling out a pair of batcuffs, the Caped Crusader roughly restrained the man's arms, before lifting him to his feet.

"Careful with the merchandise…" The Joker grumbled.

With a second pair of cuffs, the Bat attached one of the cuffs to the Joker's ankle, the Clown laughing as he attempted to kick at the Bat to heed his progress, and then the other to a metal support pillar protruding from the floor.

And then, in the next instant, Batman was at your side, diligently working to free you from the shackles that bound you. As the restraints loosened, you took in a deep breath before letting out a shuddering sigh. You tried to stand, only for your legs to give out from under you - you had spent so long in that position that your legs had fallen asleep - but it was okay. Batman caught you. He caught you and he held you and pulled you into a hug. A gloved hand petted your hair soothingly.

"It's okay. You're safe, you're okay," The Bat rumbled. "I've got you."

This. This was what you loved most about The Batman. As much as he was revered for the fear he struck into the heart of evil, how he acted as a phantom in the night, fighting back against the criminals that roamed Gotham in the night… What you loved most was what came after. Your interviews with survivors of criminal attacks are what made you grow a fondness for the Dark Knight. How comforting they said he was. How he reassured them, made them feel safe. When he was there, they knew everything was okay. They knew they were safe. That everything was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

And you melted into his hold.

He continued to murmur reassurances as he began to massage your legs until the static feeling went away and you found the strength to stand - and even then, he let you lean against him as you walked out into the night together.

"You'll pay for this, Bats," The Joker spat, expression dark… Until he locked eyes with you, and his visage softened. "How about same time next week, love?"

Before you could think of responding, Batman pulled out of the building and far, far away from the madman within.

---

Bruce had to fight to keep his driving steady. His body was flooded with adrenaline and his heart rabitted a mile a minute. His entire being felt electric.

He had touched you, held you. And you held him back, reassured and calmed by him. It was everything he had dreamed of. You had leaned against for support and let him help you climb into the batmobile.

He had managed to track The Joker down to one of his usual hideouts that he and Harley stayed at - an old, abandoned amusement park that had been sold to him. Well, would have been sold to him, if he hadn't killed the owner of the property before they could seal the deal.

He kept sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. You, resting your head against the window, eyes shut as you tried to get some rest after everything you had been through. You could rest for as long as you liked. He was here now. Bruce would keep you safe.

Bruce took his usual shortcut into the batcave, driving into a cave opening just outside the manor, and you lifted your head, startled by the sudden turn and shift in light behind your eyes.

"Batman, where are we?"

Home.

You gasped as restraints wrapped over your ligaments, tying you down to the seat.

Bruce knew this was wrong. But, after such a long career as the Batman, he had learned that he often had to do the wrong thing in order to get the right outcome. He really wished there was any other way… But, you had a target on your head now. You'd be safe with him. He'd keep you deep within the batcave and visit you often. 

You sputtered, eyes wide with shock and disbelief and… Betrayal. Bruce hated the thought of you looking at him like that. He leaned over, softly pressing a kiss to your forehead. He felt you shiver under his touch.

He'd get you settled and comfortable. He'd reveal his true self to you at some point, but that was for later. You had been through enough for one night.

"You're safe now." Bruce lied promised. "I've got you."

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

hi, i just wanted to say i loved your charles oneshot :) i was wondering if you could do an enemies to lovers w/ daniel ricciardo? thanks!

DANIEL RICCIARDO ONESHOT

TEMPORARY STRANGERS

( WARNING: swearing, alcohol, blood/injury, little bit of fluff/angst? )

word count: 5.4k

< this is my attempted version lol >

You’d debated whether or not to go to Theo’s party. For one, it was on a Thursday night, which, in itself, was rather tragic for a party thrown for an adult because surely he had to have thought that most people would be working on a Thursday night? Secondly, you had an early shift at the hospital in the morning, so you weren't sure if staying at a party fit for Blair Waldorf for a couple of hours was entirely worth your presence.

But, after a persuasive conversation on the phone — in which Theo spent the majority of it begging you to make an appearance — you’d caved and now you found yourself standing in the middle of a kitchen sipping on a lemonade, expertly avoiding everyone’s eyes and wondering why you agreed to come in the first place.

The apartment was a large, luxurious one, decked from head to toe in pricey decorations and with an open-plan layout. You even had half the mind to compare it to what you imagined a Royal Palace looked like.

In other words, it was big and incredibly tasteful and fancy, in the most annoying way possible.

Then again, Theo did own a successful Estate Agency, which specialized heavily in selling buildings in the centre of London. The money pooled from that spoke for itself, and it also meant that since university he’d met people in all aspects of his work, all of which looked like they’d been invited to his party, which unfortunately meant you didn’t know anyone, and the couple that you did, you had absolutely zero intentions of actually talking to them.

The guests themselves were glamorous, dressed to the nines and decked with expensive watches and jewellery, and you felt out of place wearing your best dress with your favourite high-tops and a blazer.

On another note, the lemonade and food were delicious. It was almost as if he’d hired a private caterer and then shoved them out of the back door before people started arriving.

“You know, I didn’t think you meant it when you said you’d come.” A smooth voice knocked you out of your reverie, and you whirled around, hastily swallowing the lemonade when you noticed the familiar blonde that you’d befriended in uni.

“I didn’t think I did either if that makes a difference.” You replied, biting the inside of your cheek as Theo rolled his eyes, making his way around the kitchen island to place a couple of collected empty glasses near the sink.

“Well, are you having fun?” He asked, leaning back against the counter next to you, his shoulder judging yours teasingly.

You hummed, narrowing your eyes, “Not as much fun as when you crashed my Grandparents party and scared away the boy they tried to set me up with, let’s just leave it at that.” You breathed a laugh, swirling the lemonade in your cup as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing.

“Oh, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” He said, his attention turning to the other partygoers in the near vicinity, his eyebrow raising as he spotted someone trying to sneak one of his clocks into their bags without being caught. It didn’t work; they saw his gaze and turned a suspicious shade of red and pretended as if they’d simply been admiring the thing before walking away.

Theo cleared his throat, adjusting his tie.

“I think I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, his finger pointing in the direction of the culprit, an apologetic look in his eyes. You nodded, breathing a short laugh in understanding.

“I think I’m going to head out anyway—”

“Oh, please stay.” He held out a hand, silently begging for you to stay.

You hadn’t seen each other in at least a couple of months because of clashes with schedules, and it was getting to the point where the odd texts and phone calls and video calls were starting to feel more like a chore than a privilege. You had been close friends for the best part of ten years now, and you were still close, but adult life was more difficult than you expected trying to balance relationships and work.

You breathed in deeply, eyes flashing around the guests, accidentally catching the eye of Daniel and flicking your attention back to Theo hastily.

“I’ll stay for now but I’m going home in an hour, I have an early shift in the morning.” You promised, offering a small smile as Theo nodded, returning the gesture before disappearing into the throwing of people.

It wasn’t long before you were approached by an unfamiliar face. She was — like all the other people in the room — dressed nicely, and she stumbled slightly in her heels, almost running into you.

“Oh, shit, sorry about that.” She muttered, and you could smell the faint, bitter scent of alcohol on her breath, indicating that she wasn’t completely sober.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You reassured, asking if she wanted something else to drink, seeing as though you were standing next to the drinks table and the fridge.

She shook her head, instead resuming Theo’s place against the counter next to you.

“Do you see that man over there?” She whispered, pointing her finger in the direction of the crowd out in the living area.

You furrowed your eyes, trying to lean slightly to make sure you could see who she was pointing at.

“I think you’re gonna have to be more specific because there’s about thirty people in that general direction.” You said, resisting the urge to laugh as the woman sighed, shuffling closer to the group and standing in her heeled tiptoes to see over the sea of heads.

“Okay, so he’s about 6 foot, brunette, curly hair…” she snuck a glance at you out of the corner of her eye to make sure you were trying to look out for the person she was talking about, “really fit and has an Italian nose.” She concluded.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling quite awkward in the presence of a stranger. You averted your eyes back to the pile of drinks on the kitchen island and halted your actions in searching for who could only be Daniel Ricciardo.

She noticed your reaction and gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth as if you just spilled the hottest gossip of the season.

“You know him.” She stated, stepping back slightly with an accusatory shine in her eyes.

“I don’t know him, I just know of him.” You lied, trying to brush the topic off as subtly as possible.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, taking your arm and ignoring the cry of protest from your lips as she dragged you away from the kitchen area and into the heart of the party, where the chatter was significantly louder, “I don’t believe that. You can introduce us.” She insisted.

You dug your heels into the floor as best as you could, trying to push away the wave of panic that surged through your veins.

“Lady,” you started, ripping your arm out of her iron grip, “I don’t know him.” You reiterated.

“If you don’t know him, how can you know of him?” She enquired snarkily, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow in your direction.

“How can you not know of him?” You returned, shrugging. Her face remained blank, and it occurred to you she really didn’t know who Daniel was. “That’s Daniel Ricciardo. Formula 1 driver for McLaren this year.” You told her, straightening out your blazer uncomfortably, unaware of the eyes on you from the other side of the room.

“Formula 1? So he’s, like…a millionaire?” She licked her lips,sultry eyes slipping over the crowd and fixating on who you assumed to be Daniel.

You cringed, resisting the urge to turn your nose up at her. You suddenly regretted telling her about his career because even a blind man could see that his money was the main thing on her mind at that moment in time.

You neglected from answering her question, instead trying to slink back to the kitchen, but you were interrupted by the scuffle of feet and the sound of something shattering before an obvious cry of pain was heard throughout the room, nearly drowned out in the volume of the music pumping from the speakers.

You swivelled back around, and several people had stepped away from the scene leaving an open gap in the crowd as more people gathered around to see what the kerfuffle was.

The girl had disappeared seemingly into thin air and you were about to take the moment of peace as an opportunity to leave, but Theo’s voice called your name over the crowd, laced with urgency.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, heart pounding with anxiety at the panic in his voice. You made your way to the crowd, apologising to people as you pushed your way through to get to the centre of all the attention.

As soon as you edged into Theo’s vision, he dragged you by the elbow into the centre, pointing to the person who’s cry of pain was heard over the music.

Blood was dripping from a deep gash in the palm of their hand, and the person in question looked a little pale, holding their hand up above their head, a permanent wince etched onto their face. Despite that, they looked rather uncomfortable with all the attention, and it was this that caused Theo to turn to the crowd and usher them away.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Theo informed you, and you wasted no time in helping the injured person raise their arm higher above their head, guiding them through the crowd with a secure arm around their waist.

“A cut on my hand doesn’t hinder my ability to walk, okay?” They tried, shifting out of your grip.

“No, but if you pass out, it hinders my ability to patch you up.” You retorted, hurriedly passing your glass of lemonade back to Theo.

The person let a weak, sarcastic huff pass their lips, but they let you guide them to the bathroom, keeping an eye on the blood dripping down their arm and creeping into the sleeve of their blazer.

“Toilet or tub?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind you and casting a weary glance back at their hand.

“Depends on the context.” They answered.

You rolled your eyes, settling them on the toilet and quickly rifling through the sink cupboards, locating the first aid kit with ease.

“I’m gonna need you to take off your blazer.” You said, never imagining that you’d say those words to Daniel Ricciardo of all people.

Your relationship with Daniel was weird to say the least. You first met at — surprise, surprise — Theo’s party a few years ago. You’d gotten along swimmingly, perhaps a little bit too well, and it was safe to say he was incredibly charming and cursed with good looks. You were quite good friends, actually.

Until one day he pulled a face at you when you approached him at an award’s evening of some sort. You’d got no idea what happened to elicit such a negative reaction, or any idea on what you could have done, but he’d sneered at you and turned around, making conversation with the person next to you. He’d never explained why, but ever since that day he’d ignored you as much as possible, and it wasn’t exactly hard not to enjoy his company when he was so obviously disgusted with your presence.

Maybe it was the fact that you only managed to snag one piece of cake that night.

“You want a striptease? At least take me out for a date, first.” He muttered, pressing his lips together in obvious discomfort as he peeled his blazer off, being cautious of the blood. “I don’t even know why you’re bothering with this anyway, I’m fine.” He insisted.

You perched yourself on the edge of the bath, placing your bag on the tiled flooring and zipping open the first aid kit.

“Dan, you’re dripping blood…you’re clearly not fine.” You muttered, carefully rolling his shirt sleeve up past his elbow, ignoring the fact that this was the first time in a long time you’d been this close to him. Ignoring the fact that he looked positively fine in a suit, minus the blood.

He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and shifting uncomfortably under your touch.

You turned his hand over, assessed the gash and winced, trying to ignore the tingling, uncomfortable sensation mirrored on your own palm as your eyes ran over the gash. It ran the width of his palm, and it didn’t take a genius to notice that it was quite deep in some places.

“Can we please be quick?” He sighed, his other hand smoothing out non-existent creases in his dress trousers.

You hated to admit it, but his words stung.

“Can you at least pretend like you don’t hate me, for fifteen minutes at least?” You said, an unintentional fierceness to your tone, one that you’d tried your best to dial down in his presence, but it seemed to no avail.

“Only if you do the same.” He muttered, and you took the liberty of ignoring his comment, reaching to fish an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit, gently dabbing at the edges to clean off some blood so you could see the extent of the damage. You flexed his hand, ignoring his hiss of pain as the cut stretched slightly.

“What was that for?” He asked, his free hand slapping your hand as he fought to take his cut up hand out of your grip.

You opened your mouth in surprise, the skin on your own hand stinging slightly with the sudden contact.

“Don’t slap me! I’m trying to make sure you don’t have glass in it, you twat.” You said, shaking your head, “Which it doesn’t, by the way, so you’re welcome for checking.”

“How did you even know to check for glass?”

“Because there was broken glass on the floor?” You answered, applying pressure to the wound and lifting his hand a little higher again.

He huffed, turning his face away from you, so he was facing the wall, his lip curling into a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “What did you mean when you said ‘only if you do the same’, anyway?” You murmured, keeping one hand on the wound and reaching to the floor to pick up your bag and unclip the front.

He narrowed his eyes, watching you root around in your bag for something, and he was about to say something, before he was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Everything ok in there? Everyone still alive?” Theo’s muffled voice echoed into the room.

“We’re fine.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel grimaced, brown eyes burning through the door as if he was trying to send a telepathic message to Theo through the door.

“Good.” Was all Theo said before the full sound of his shoes against the wooden veneers could be heard on the other side of the door.

You hummed in delight, producing the very thing you were originally looking for in your bag.

“Haribo?” Daniel asked, raising his brows expectantly.

“To get your blood sugar levels up, you’re still pale.” You answered, ripping open the packet, and just as you were about to pour the sweets into Daniel���s outstretched hand, you paused, recoiling.

“What?” He asked, noticeably frustrated that he wasn’t scoffing the sweets.

“Why don’t you like me?” You questioned, biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously as he stared straight at you, his face expressionless.

He was quiet for a while, and you almost told him to forget you even said anything because the simple question looked like it hit home, but he opened his mouth, quickly closing it again. He looked at you from behind furrowed brows, apparently confused by your question.

“Why don’t I like you?” He repeated the question. “Why don’t you like me?”

You gaped at him, your cheeks flushing with irritation at his words.

“I don’t—I never—” you sighed in frustration, the hand clutching the packet of Haribo clenching unconsciously as Daniel looked at you with mild concern, “Why the hell would you think I don’t like you?”

He blinked, casting his sights back to the wall, ignoring your eye contact.

“Theo told me you, and I quote, ‘hate me’,” he answered, swallowing roughly as you continued to stare at him.

His discomfort under your gaze brought a sick sense of satisfaction, but at the same time you were having difficulty wrapping your head around what he’d just admitted.

“Theo? My Theo?” You clarified, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“When did he tell you that?” Your heart was starting to hammer in your rib cage, the power of which was almost painful to endure.

“When we went clubbing a while back,” he shrugged.

“Why would he—?” You muttered, before turning back to Daniel. “Are you sure he said that?”

“Positive.”

“So you’ve been so hostile towards me for months now, all because of something someone else said to you in a dark, loud club when you were — let’s face it — probably drunk?”

Daniel sucked in his cheeks, now realising how there would have been so many chances for misunderstanding in such an environment.

“Yes…” he replied, dragging the word out slowly, trying his best to take his mind off the way your grip on his wound was slowly increasing.

“I never said I hate—”

“So…you don’t not like me?” He interrupted, his eyes wide.

“No…Yes…I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that, but I never hated you.” You said, ducking your head down at his intense glare, instead turning your attention back to his bleeding hand, carefully peeling off the gauze to take a peak. You suddenly remembered the scrunched up packet of Haribo still clutched in your grasp, and you shoved it in Daniel’s direction, not bothering to even look at him when he took it, humming quietly in thanks.

He didn’t know how to respond to that, the revelation sending his mind spinning about a hundred different directions.

He was mad at Theo, even if what happened wasn’t entirely his fault, but he was mostly mad at himself for not even bothering to try to talk to you and hash it out. The months he spent trying to ignore you were completely miserable, and the worst part is, he put you through hell without even giving you any reason, and all of that ignorance was not even worth it…that is, if what you said was true.

“Oh.” Was all he said, taking to watching you strap up his hand after telling him he (thankfully) didn’t need stitches, but he did need to rest it for a while, which was probably for the best because the F1 Summer Break was currently in full swing.

Once you’d put the soaked gauze in the bin and tidied everything away to how you’d arrived before the bloodbath ensued, you stood up, brushing nonexistent dirt off your dress, and offered Daniel a rather confused smile.

He bit his lip in thought, your eyes unconsciously zipping to his mouth, before steering your gaze back up to his eyes when he caught you, raising his eyebrow slightly, a pale shade of pink tinting his cheeks as he fought back a smirk.

You turned away, looking at the door, which was very much tempting you at that moment in time.

He cleared his throat once he’d noticed your attention flicker away from him, and it was only then he registered he practically craved you to be looking at him. Whenever he was at functions with Theo, he would always unknowingly search for you, even when he thought you hated his guts, he’d still scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces in the hopes that he’d see you again.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously, feeling your eyes on him. It was as if he’d suddenly melted into a teenager again right beneath your eyes. He cleared his throat again, sinking back against the toilet in an attempt to make himself smaller at the revelation he’d just arrived at.

It was weird, seeing him so shy when he was naturally such an outgoing character.

You found a part of your brain secretly admiring his flustering, but you quickly shut that down, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be having those thoughts, especially since you’d just had to mop up a slice on his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go grab a drink and join the fray.” You said, hating the way your voice sounded so small against the echoing walls of the bathroom tiles.

Daniel snapped his eyes to yours, holding them intently, slightly alarmed at your words.

The last thing he wanted was for you to leave him; call it soppy, but he wanted to make up for lost time as soon as he possibly could, and he knew there would be very few opportunities considering both your careers were so demanding.

“Um…” he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I just want to say, thanks for all of this.” He gestured down to his hand, and you smiled.

“No problem. Just…stay away from broken glass for a bit and you should be fine.” You mumbled, words not registering in your brain as Daniel breathed a small laugh, looking utterly starstruck and sad at the same time.

“I’ll try my best.”

You offered one last smile, checking you still had your bag, and without another word you slipped out of the bathroom door, hearing the handle click behind you.

You could still hear the thumping remnants of the party in the next room, and without really caring who you bumped into along the way, you made a beeline for the kitchen, filling up a plastic wine glass with the nearest spirit and downing it as quickly as possible. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, immediately feeling guilty because of the early shift, and hurried to fill the glass back up with water, trying your best to dispel the effects of alcohol before they even had an impact.

It seemed to work.

Your head was spinning, unrelated to the liquids you’d just absorbed, but because of the bathroom fiasco that had just occurred only moments prior.

You were that caught up in your own thoughts, trying to separate fact from fiction and thought from feeling, that you completely missed the very brunette on your mind stride past the kitchen and into the living area, looking like a man on a mission as he tried to seek out Theo.

It didn’t take him long, he just had significantly more trouble trying to shake off a blonde that refused to let go of his arm, and he found Theo leant against a table, looking worn out, his mind absent from reality.

In the time it took for you to patch Daniel up, it looked as if Theo had faced a war and somehow escaped.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, hand clapping into Theo’s shoulder in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

He jumped, immediately relaxing when he registered just who was standing in front of him.

“I’m fine, but if that…person over there takes another step towards my Grandma, he’s not going to know what hit him.” He answered, finger pointing at a rather suspicious looking man.

“I don’t see a Grandma anywhere.” Daniel pointed out, slightly concerned.

Theo rolled his eyes, as if he’d had to answer the question a million times already, “She’s the purple one on the mantelpiece.” He muttered, taking a swig of whatever was in his glass.

Daniel nodded, feeling guilty for even bringing up the topic, but the completely detached behaviour from Theo was giving him a hard time in focusing on what he actually came over to do.

“Sorry about that, mate.” He apologised, breathing in deeply.

Theo shrugged.

“Anyway, does Y/N still have the same phone number or did she change it?” Daniel questioned, attempting to pretend like the question wasn’t that big of a deal by shrugging and avoiding making eye contact with Theo, but the raise of the eyebrow and curious, piercing blue stare proved that his attempt was futile.

“I knew you still liked her.” Theo chuckled.

“Am I that transparent?” Daniel quipped, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“Only for me.” Theo grinned, patting Daniel’s cheek.

Daniel pulled a face, swiping Theo’s hand away.

“But no, she’s still got the same number. Why’d you ask?”

Daniel shrugged, already backing away, attention flickering around the room, once again searching for something — the action of which didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who positively cackled inside, “Just curious.”

“If curious means ‘I-fucked-up-with-a-really-good-person-big-time-and-I-need-to-make-it-up-somehow-before-I-ask-her-out-for-real-this-time-instead-of-practicing-it-in-the-mirror’, then, whatever you say.”

“That was ages ago!”

“People don’t forget!” Theo yelled, smirking in triumph as Dan disappeared around the corner, no doubt searching for you.

You were sitting on the cold, stone steps outside the apartment building, your phone in your hand and debating whether or not to call a taxi or walk home before it gets too dark.

Your thumb was hovering over the call button to your local taxi when the building doors slammed open, the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete as a tall figure leapt down the last three steps, running a hand through their curls in frustration as they looked left, then right, and sighed, reaching into their jacket pocket to produce their phone.

You couldn’t see their face, only the back of their head, but you’d recognise that figure anywhere.

You looked down, your heart stuttering at the sudden buzzing of the phone in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to laugh at the hilarity of the situation, and answered the call, lifting the phone up to your ear, your eyes fixated on the pacing figure on the pavement, watching him from your spot at the top corner of the stairs.

“Hello?” The person asked, sounding a bit breathless through the phone.

“Hi.”

“It’s Daniel...Ricciardo.” He winced at his own awkwardness.

“I know. You’re still saved in my contacts.”

“I am?” He replied, tone laced with shock.

You were almost embarrassed to admit that you’d held onto a little shred of hope in thinking he’d eventually get over himself, “You had a paddy with me, remember?”

“About that, I’m really sorry. Like, really, really, really,really, really—”

“I get the idea.” You sighed.

“No, I don’t think you understand how sorry I am for it. It was so insanely stupid of me to stop talking to you because of something I thought I heard in a club — a fucking club of all places — without even thinking of talking to you—”

“Why didn't you talk to me?”

He was silent for a while, and you noticed he’d halted his pacing on the pavement. “I know it sounds like I’m making up excuses, but I really thought you hated my guts, and that...it hurt because I kind of had a bit of a crush on you and I pushed you away because I think a subconscious part of my mind thought that if I did that then it would be better in the long run because I wouldn’t be so attached to you if something went weird later on.” He explained, his voice lowering and quieting towards the end, as if he’d just understood what he didn’t understand.

“That’s...a lot to unpack.” You murmured, noticing the way his shoulders had slumped.

“Yeah...we don’t have to do it right now, though.”

“No, I agree, I think we’d need a nicer place to sort though our emotional struggles than outside Theo’s apartment building.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird — what?” He caught himself, spinning around on his heels.

You offered a shy wave once he’d tilted his head in your direction, realising you’d been watching him talk to you the entire time.

“I was looking for you.” He said once he’d hung up the phone, meeting you halfway on the steps.

“Why?”

“Can I walk you home?” He resorted to asking.

_____

The journey home took about twice as long as it usually would, and by the time you’d both made it onto your street, night was beginning to creep through, the sky changing to a darker blue, street lamps beginning to turn on.

The conversation flowed remarkably easily, albeit there was a noticeable hesitance in dancing around that subject, but you pretended not to notice it, and you had a feeling Daniel was trying to do the same.

He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, almost disbelieving of that fact that you were in front of him, even after what he’d put you through, and he had to keep catching himself to ensure you didn’t notice him looking.

You did.

“So, how are you feeling about going back after the Summer Break?”

He stifled a smile, “I don’t know why, but I have a really good feeling about going back. You know what? It has to be those Haribo’s.” He breathed a laugh.

“What? I hand out magic Haribo?” You smirked, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“No.”

“You say that now, but you’ll take it back when I get a podium.”

“When you do win, just don’t go around telling everyone about my magic Haribo.”

“Oh, the Haribo are reserved for me and for me only. It won’t have the same effect if you give some to Lando.”

“I’ll just take your word for it, I guess.”

You breathed a laugh, coming to a halt on the pavement, the familiar house standing to your left.

Daniel looked up.

“I thought you had a Fiesta?” He asked, pointing to the blue Hyaundi parked on the driveway.

“I’m sorry, is my car not up to the standard you’re used to?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow teasingly in his direction.

“Oi, I’ll have you know that I learnt to drive in a — I can’t even remember what model it was, but I do remember having to really press down on the brake…and the air con was broken.” He defended, throwing his hands up as if to say he was surrendering.

You bit your lip, “I learnt to drive in a Mercedes.”

His reaction was priceless.

“A Mercedes? You learnt to drive in a—wow.”

“It was just the company car, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Still…wow.” He paused, feet tapping the pavement agitatedly, “I have a proposal.”

You met his eyes, unable to help feeling slightly anxious by the prospect.

“Go on.” You encouraged, crossing your arms tightly.

“If I win a GP…wait—can we make a deal?” He asked, throwing his hand out.

You nodded.

“If I win a GP, I get to take you on a date.” He offered, raising one eyebrow but somehow maintaining eye contact.

“But…what’s in it for me?” You smirked.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “That’s so rude…but, okay…I take you to Monza, and if—when I win a GP, I get to take you out. For my own sake, I’m gonna pretend like I will win one because I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.”

“You’ll win one.” You stated simply, shrugging.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re Daniel Ricciardo, when have you ever not been successful in a car?” You asked, pulling a face as if it was obvious from the get-go.

Daniel didn’t say anything after that. He just sort of looked at you, twisting his mouth up in thought. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind at that moment in time, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to believe your words.

“You really believe that?” He finally said, a hint of what sounded like insecurity laced in his tone.

“You don’t?” You shot back, your heart breaking slightly at his demeanour.

“I never left.” He mumbled under his breath, turning away from you slightly with furrowed brows, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

You knew those words would stick around in your mind for a long time.

But there was something so addictive about ‘Daniel Ricciardo wins the 2021 Italian Grand Prix’.