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tadpolesonalgae · 5 months

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 10[*]

Pairing: Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sister!Reader

A/N: Well, buckle up I guess

Warnings: Plot™️, I know clocks are canon but it still feels weird to do this, starting heavy 💪

Word Count: 6,012

-Part 9- -Part 11-

He sighs.

It’s not like she can help the way she is. Not like she can help the fact that whenever she tries to make things better it simply creates more work for him to do. By receding into her room, he has to pay more attention to when she appears, becoming extra vigilant in the moments she steps outside.

He shouldn’t be so harsh. Sometimes fatigue clouds his judgement, enough so it becomes apparent to even himself sleep is a necessary luxury. Still, they’re harmless behaviours really. Small habits that with the right guidance will enable her to flourish again.

A broken bone that needs to be left to set, to be good as new.

6:57 p.m.

Azriel massages his temples, the beginning aches of a headache making themselves apparent. Eases in a breath, counts, and releases. It seems a night of rest is unavoidable, but there’s so much to be done. He could perhaps rearrange breakfast…but that would collide nastily with training. Maybe moving lunch to three instead? But then that would impact the start time of going though the towering stack of reports, which would in turn result in him working later anyway.

Thick brows narrow as he prowls silently down the hallway of the River House, deciding to leave for some peace and quiet. It’s not an idea he’s keen on, but if he dips out of practice with Cassian atop the House of Wind tomorrow…that would work. Frustration simmers in his knuckles, tightening the trapezius. He doesn’t like the idea of skipping over valuable training time with the priestesses. They’re forcing themselves out of their comfort zone. The least he can do is respect their resolve by attending.

He’s so caught up in thoughts of schedule and routine he only realises she’s in the River House, on the same floor, when she’s a single corridor away. Another thing he needs to keep an eye on. Swiftly reorganises his thoughts, rotating and recalling the information his shadows have provided over the recent days and hours. The scraps of speculations Mor had offered from a single outing. If he remembers correctly, she will have just gotten back from her trip with Mor now. So why is she here? She should be back up at the House by now, retreating to her room away from everyone else.

Still, he rounds the corner in time to see her click a door closed—her sister’s. His curiosity piques, shadows already recollecting the news they’ve catalogued for the female with soft, cocoa eyes. Gloves still adorn her hands, but it does nothing to conceal their tremor.

Attention narrows in on her, darkness skittering back into the corners of the hallway, hiding between his wings as he approaches. Her lips are chapped and tight, features strained as her gloved hand rests for a moment atop the handle. Appearing in her own world—eyes glazed and vacant. Her jaw is wound tighter than usual, tight enough he can hear the grinding of enamel, like bone and porcelain powdered against rock. Brows draw together at the notice of her waxen complexion, skin gleaming faintly with peaky dew.

Blank eyes flick up to meet his own, and he steps forward. Her hand stiffens on the handle, posture turning rigid. Scent taking on a tang he’s far too familiar with from nights spent with his blade. He comes to a stop, keeping his distance from her taut form.

Azriel’s first thoughts are she must be pushing too hard with her magic. Honestly, he hadn’t anticipated her to be so resolved in mastering her power independently. Neither had he anticipated her making a lick of progress. At least not through measures that a sensible mentor would allow.

He should never have yielded to her look of despair. She’d be safer if he had simply insisted on doing things correctly. A foolish mistake on his part, and now she might be going down the wrong path. “Are you okay?” He asks, splitting his weight equally between each foot, resting in his place. Watches the roll of her throat, shifting in place, away from Elain’s door. Had there been an argument?

She nods her head, trying to straighten her spine as she sometimes does when pulling herself together. The effect is nullified by the was she hangs her head, never quite succeeding in meeting his eye for extended periods. He shouldn’t have ignored it for so long. Leaving something like that unchecked… Well, he should have known better.

“I’m—” She clears her throat, and tries again. “Good. I’m fine.” Nods to herself, eyeing the floorboards with bland eyes. He waits quietly, allowing the silence to coax her into unravelling. She shifts again, stepping away from Elain’s door, her gaze flitting about the corridor. Flicks to the stairs behind him, leading down to the exit—likely wanting to return to her haven up in the House by now.

Eyes regain a little focus, pupils contracting as a nervous smile quirks her mouth, nodding to the door as she makes for the stairs. “We were just speaking,” she elaborates, moving away hastily. “Catching up.”

Azriel watches, noting the briskness of her steps. It’s unusual for her to be so keen to leave his presence. What had happened?

“Wait,” he says, turning as she makes to move past him, peering at the floor, marking her steps. She pauses, gloved hand resting on the carved and polished banister. He steps forward, morbidly intrigued by the glaze in her eyes, as if made of glass. “You aren’t well,” he states. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” you repeat blandly, “just tired.”

Something bad then, if she’s not willing to even discuss whatever exchange happened with Elain.

Shadows loiter at the threshold, waiting to hear for any sounds that might offer hints, like the soft breath of cries, or the gentle splash of muffled tears. Nothing.

She turns again, descending the stairs, sweeping down the case quietly as she makes a bee-line for the door, vanishing out into the dark, leaving him perplexed and curious. A dangerous combination for the Spymaster.

She’d looked shaken up, so he should make sure things are okay.

It’s been a long while since he last had a one-on-one conversation with the soft-eyed female.

Azriel turns in the hallway, moving back the way she’d come.

8:36 a.m.

“We should talk.”

His words pull you from the world of bliss that had been graciously clouding your mind. Peer down at him from where you’re straddling his lap, pale sheets crumpled, clothes strewn about from being swiftly discarded. “About what?”

Thick, dark brows narrow over piercing golden eyes, full lips twisting down in the corners. Your own features shift to match his, “now, Bas?”

He sighs, large, warm hands splaying across the bruised skin of your hips. “I know, I know, I suck at timing. No need to tell me.” Almost immediately the edges of your lips lift up, a smile tugging at your mouth, vanquishing the momentary surge of annoyance. Fingers lightly press into the softness of his chest, spine losing its rigidity, relaxing your weight back onto him. Feeling slightly dizzy as pleasure sinks into your bones.

“Fine,” you mutter, playfully, “what is it?”

Bas shifts beneath you, thumbs soothing your skin, your back arching as you attempt to still the swirl of your hips. “Two things, actually,” he clarifies reaching higher, a reassuring pressure over your ribcage, rubbing to your waist. Peek down at him, raising a brow, “I wondered why you weren’t giving me a hard time tonight,” —shake your head, smiling slightly— “I should have known.”

He offers a tight smile and your own slips away. “Now you’re worrying me,” you murmur quietly, fingers curling. “What is it?” Golden eyes meet your own, concern shining in their depths, “you’ve been off recently. And I’m worried. So, it’s fine to be emotionally intimate too… Yeah?”

You blink, lips parting in surprise. “I’ve been…off?” Brow furrows in confusion, “what do you mean by that? Am I doing something wrong?” It’s an earnest question, yet it resonates a little deeper than you had expected. Thankfully he doesn’t pick up on the inner conflict. “It’s not that,” he reassures, hands stroking slowly, lightly. “But you’ve worn the same dress the last three times I’ve seen you.”

Internally, you cringe, making to pull away. “Do I smell?” You ask, wincing, bringing your arms to your chest. A slight smile tugs at his lips then, “no.” Relax a little, hands twining as he brings them back to his torso. “But…you taking care of yourself up there?” Sigh, shoulders losing their tension, lips resting into a quirked position.

“I’m fine, Bas. I like it up there, where it’s quiet, and—”

“No.” He interjects gently, hand slipping from yours, pushing a strand of hair from your cheek. Lightly cups your jaw, thumb skimming across the skin. “I mean up there.”

Spine stiffens, fingers freezing. Breath pauses. “Everything’s fine,” you murmur, watching him. He gives a look that urges you to stop lying, squeezing your hands. “Talk to me,” he says in response. “Something’s up. I can tell.”

“Bas—”

“Don’t even try,” he murmurs, golden eyes shimmering as he peers up at you. “I know what that feels like,” he whispers, hand raising to skim your breast, thumb brushing atop your heart. “I know change is difficult.”

“Bas, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eyes lock, staring at one another.

His hand falls away.

Muscle loosens.

Licks his lips, gaze flitting elsewhere. “I was lonely too, when the attack happened.” Spine softens, brows tightening. Wait silently for him to continue. Licks his lips again, returning to watch you. “Ma… It was hard on both of us, losing pa. Y’know one day he was there, then the next it’s just us.” His throat rolls, eyes glazing as he looks into the middle distance. “We had our own ways of dealing with it—the loss. Mother knows I can’t talk about healthy coping mechanisms, I practically fucked anything that would let me. Probably drank more than I should have, too.”

The attack.

You and your sisters hadn’t yet come here, still mortally human and wonderfully unaware. Well, you and Elain, anyway. Even now, there were still signs of the aftermath. Traces of grief that had yet to be healed.

He shakes his head slowly, limbs turning stiff. “It got… I know what it’s like.” Golden eyes latch to your own. “So talk to me. Don’t keep that—…stuff, to yourself.” Shake your head, breaking the connection, pulling away. “There’s nothing to talk about. Stop prying.” Shake off the heaviness, easing a breath. “What else did you want to talk about?”

His expression is indiscernible, brows dipped, lips tugged down, eyes swirling with molten gold. Shifts beneath you, your hands pressing to his chest to steady yourself as he raises into a sitting position. Moving to be eye-to-eye, hands spanning your waist, gently keeping you still. Fingers brush the concealed muscle of his shoulders, linking at his back, hips winding in gentle encouragement.

A rough-skinned palm settles on the nape of your neck, sliding and gripping your hair lightly. Thumb oscillates over your waist. Calling up loneliness from the pit of your chest. Lips brush your mouth, the slightest caress of hot skin that feels like heated silk and tastes like spices and thyme. He looks like he’s about to try again, but decides against it, instead pulling you forward.

Only you’re taken to the crook of his shoulder, palm cupping the back of your head. His free arm snakes up your back, cradling you to his chest. Keeping you close by. At first you’re stiff, unsure how to react, muscle locks as his skin presses hot to your own, smooth and soft. Warm hands soothe along your spine, gently skimming across the expanse, tracing the knuckles of bone. Fingers draw light patterns atop, oscillating and sketching with reassuring steadiness.

He makes no move to kiss you, just holding you still, the thick locs of his hair scratching softly against the nape of your neck. His arm spans across the back of your waist, hand flattening against your side, thumbing over the skin, soothing you to melt.

Your bones begin to feel heavy in your body, sinking low as you hesitantly raise your arms to lock over his sturdy shoulders, tentatively shuffling to rest your cheek against him. Inhale slowly, deeply, taking in his scent—like rosemary and myrrh. He settles across your skin, and you sink deeper, emotion thawing as you melt into his arms, so tender and soft. Healing and welcoming.

Wet drops splash atop his shoulders, dripping onto dark skin as arms pull a little tighter, squeezing as lips tremble. Spine shudders, soft breaths stuttering as tears trickle down your cheeks, wetting strands of hair as fingers grip closer. Full lips graze your temple, and you feel those small cracks that had emerged during your argument with Feyre begin to spiderweb out, restraint fracturing just a little more.

Lower lip wobbles, and you curl around him tighter, body shuddering with quiet sobs as he holds you. Dry hands wrap into fists, nails biting the flesh of your arms as you fall into him, wanting to be washed away.

To peacefully melt to a place far from memory.

Slowly fade into absence.

2:43 p.m.

The iron-cast ring weighs on your palm, the glittering blue jewel of its swollen abdomen gazing up at you like silver moonlight dripping to dark, gleaming midnight. Polished and sharp like armour and blade.

“Do you like it?” Mor asks from your side, peering over your shoulder. You’d heard her footsteps that time, but shake your head absently, putting the ring back where it belongs. “It’s a lovely piece of jewellery,” you hedge, not wanting to talk badly when the shopkeepers are around. Spiders are still a little too close to home—insects at all, really.

She hums quietly, attention skimming to a piece beside it: a silver band fashioned to the stalk of a flower, the petals looking like stretched out droplets of warm citrine. Mor examines it for a moment, then holds it out for you to look at, which you do. “What about this one?” Fingers mindlessly come up to fumble with the glass pendant at your neck, steadily becoming a habit. “It’s very pretty,” you answer, hoping it suffices. Mor hums again, seemingly getting the hint, returning it to sit on the counter.

“You liked the dress, didn’t you?” She asks, quietly. Brows dip together as you turn in her direction, cascading golden hair loosely tied back. “I mean you wanted it. Not just because I was pushing you to get something.” A beat of quiet passes, and you examine her expression: the edges of plush and pillowy lips lengthened by slight worry lines, brow marginally dipped in the centre. Minute shifts in features that would have gone undetected by human eyes.

Throat rolls as you look away, but nod. “I did like it,” you mumble, fumbling your words, “do like it. Thank you.”

“Have you worn it yet?” She asks. Dread ices your skin, eyes flitting to honey warm irises. “I— No…” you manage honestly. Look away, scanning the jewels, that blue spider again catching your attention. “It’s a special dress,” you murmur, “I was waiting for a special occasion.”

More quiet beats between you, background chatter buzzing through your mind. But then she nods, accepting your answer. “It looks nice on you,” she replies, picking up a necklace this time—a thin chain of gold that shimmers beneath the daylight streaming in from the windows. Dip your head in silent thanks.

Peer out into the streets, watching fae pass by, enjoying their lives. Spots of colour splashing along as they go about their day. Eyes mark a small shop across the road, stools holding little trinkets like cups and pottery spilling out onto the cobbles, ceramics gleaming beneath the lowering sun. Plants sway in the crisp breeze outside, the nippy winds of early autumn already setting in.

Ease in a steady breath—there’s less than a week left until you’re due to complete your side of the agreement, and only small bits and pieces of progress to show. Not enough to avoid bringing it up to the rest of them.

Glance at Mor from the corner of your eye, watching through your peripherals as she holds up a necklace to herself, peering into a mirror. How would she react if you told her right now? She’d probably smile and tell you that’s great. Maybe ask you to show her or give a demonstration. The breath releases, knowing that question will crop up eventually. Seeking results when you have none to provide.

“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” She asks breaking you out of your wondering. Blink, pulling yourself back down, having forgotten about the extra supper they’d decided to fit in. Shake your head, turning your attention back to the jewellery stand, then flitting out to the shop. “I’m feeling pretty tired,” you reply quietly, “so I don’t think so.”

“Sure?” She says absently, already having moved onto the next stand. “The food’s really great—pork that practically comes part on your tongue. And the jam that goes with it is absolutely mouth-watering,” she dreams, smiling faintly as her fingers scrunch with anticipation. Your nose wrinkles for a split-second before you shut off the reaction, offering a bland smile, “how lovely.”

“You must try it at some point,” she gushes, turning to you now, accessories forgotten. “It’s one of my favourite places in Velaris. All the dishes they serve are,” —her hand flexes, as if trying to grasp onto something, eyes briefly shutting in bliss— “amazing.”

You smile again. “I’m sure.”

Warm-honey eyes narrow on you, examining the set of your expression. “You liked the soup,” she says, “what else do you like?” Throat rolls and you shift on your feet, fumbling. “Mash?” Mor nods slowly, remaining silent; in doing so forcing you to speak, too awkward to allow it to continue. “With thyme… Beans are nice, too?” She continues her bout of silence, quietly watching you. “The rice and…sauce. That’s been nice. Very nice.”

Her brows squish together, tension coiling in your stomach and shoulders. Lick your lips. “The—…” You pause, not knowing the name of the food. “The doughy balls? With…mushroom? in the middle? With—”

Eyes pop open. “You don’t eat meat.”

“I eat meat,” you say, hurriedly, but she’s in her own world.

“That’s why Az—” Her hand smacks up onto her forehead and you internally cringe—was the coddling that noticeable? To everyone but you?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asks, a mix of shock and exasperation lining her tone as she stares at you. Throat rolls and you turn away from her, picking up the silver band with the citrine-coloured flower. “I can eat meat just fine,” you mutter quietly, “it’s not as though there was anything else.”

“There was the soup,” she argues, still facing you, “you could have asked me to pass it to you—I even had some for myself.”

“No, I mean—” —eyes lock, her brows risen in confusion, not accusation. You sigh, shaking your head. “Sorry. Forget I said anything…” Her neatly groomed brows dip, head tilting ever so slightly. “No, what were you going to say?” She asks, voice quietening. Glance at her sidelong, fiddling with the ring in your hand, sliding it on and off your gloved little finger—far too large for it to possibly get stuck on. Lick your lips, spinning the band as you fidget. “I just mean, it’s basically all we ate back then,” you mumble, peering at your feet with forced interest. “Just brings back some bad memories, is all. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

She sighs softly, and guilt tightens your stomach, putting the now-warm ring down, listening to it clink on the glass. “You don’t like meat,” she states. It’s not a question.

“I can eat it,” you counter quietly, not wanting to be a bother. You’ve seen how much the others enjoy it. “But you wouldn’t choose it,” she returns, keeping her body open as she faces you. Shift on your feet, “I… No.”

Mor nods, hair glinting like freshly spun straw beneath a summer day. “Then we can eat somewhere else. Or order different dishes,” she reasons smoothly, “I’ll just mention it to the others since none of us even knew. Well, I suppose Az—”

“Please don’t,” you interrupt, cringing internally. “It’s fine. Meat’s good for you and I shouldn’t be so picky anyway. It’s annoying.”

“To who?” She asks, making you glance at her. “Who does it annoy?” She repeats, seemingly earnestly. “It’s silly to switch restaurants just because of…because of something so small. I can eat when I get back, anyway. It’s fine.”

She looks appalled.

“Mor, please don’t say anything,” you repeat quietly, meeting her eyes, a pained look unknowingly on your features. “I’m fine with how things are. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” Her brow narrows, eyes flicking around the shop, taking in the other customers. “None of us would mind,” she says quietly. “You wouldn’t be causing a problem. We’ll just order more dishes without meat. We don’t have to change places if nobody wants to.”

But you shake your head adamantly. “I can eat when I get home. Please don’t change what you order just because—”

“Why don’t you deserve to eat food you like?” She asks sharply, voice remaining quiet but harsh. Blink at the tone, stiffening briefly before tension uncoils from your muscles. “It’s not like that,” you reply, turning from the display, slowly stepping toward the door. Mor follows beside you, appearing to have lost interest in the surrounding trinkets.

“No?” She asks, glancing at you through her peripherals. “What’s it like, then?”

You pause in the street, feet halting their movement as the question registers. She halts at your side, slowing to a stop, attention turned to you. “Mor, I don’t know how I could possibly put into words…” A heavy sigh escapes from you, shoulders sloping, exhaustion lining your eyes. “Never mind. Forget it.” Spine straightens, continuing heavily across the street to the shop with the little carvings and pieces of glazed pottery.

She follows quietly as you wander toward the stalls, inspecting the bits and bobs on display. Watches you quietly, taking in the ankle-length dress, clunky boots, thick cardigan and scarf. The vomit-yellow gloves. She should at least find another pair with a lighter colour for you. “You know,” she begins softly, a hint of a smile in her tone, “for someone so reserved, I didn’t expect you to be so stubborn.”

Fingers freeze for a moment, reaching out toward a small carving of a woman holding some drooping daisies. Breath catches, before you manage to resume motion, picking up the small figurine. “Sorry,” you mumble, “I don’t mean to be.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” she murmurs. “You’re strong willed. It’ll serve you well.”

But you shake your head in denial. “Feyre’s strong willed. So is Nesta.”

“Do you think Elain is?” Mor asks, holding up a glazed mug she clearly has no interest in. Your brow dips, peering at her, not having anticipated the change of direction. “Why are you asking?”

“She’s been quiet, no?”

Turn your attention back to the woman in your hand, flipping her over to peer at the lines of her dress—swaying in a breeze. I wonder why… You think sardonically. Instead a hum lulls from your mouth, non-committal and vague. Mor nods her head, again picking up those minute hints you’re unaware you’re even capable of dropping.

“That’s a nice carving,” she says brightly, redirecting the conversation without a hitch, smooth fluidity long ago mastered. “Your father was a carpenter, wasn’t he?” She asks softly. “Would you like it?”

Gloved fingers rub the concealed skin of your other hand, knuckles itching for reprieve. Under ordinary circumstances, you would have declined the offer— it looks well carved. Not that you have an eye for such things. This time, however, you can make an exception. “That would be nice,” you answer quietly, “thank you.”

Swallow down the apology that had been slowly making it’s way up from your stomach.

She smiles then, and you look away.

She’s far too bright.

6:49 p.m.

You excuse yourself as soon as you step inside, heading up the stairs and along the hallway before returning to the House of Wind. Walk quietly along the floorboards, hoping to avoid any unnecessary confrontations. Reach the door you’re looking for, landing a series of knocks to the hardwood. “Elain?” You call, listening for a reply. She answers, letting you to come in, voice soft but terse.

The door swings open on oiled hinges, and you step inside, hearing it snick shut at your back. Eyes instantly locate your sister, sat in a large armchair facing the lit fireplace. Curtains are drawn, blocking out what little light remained in the sky, room set aglow with the golden-orange of flame. Cocoa melts to something soft and spicy as she peers into it, and you wonder if she’s perhaps missing Lucien.

“Hey,” you mumble quietly, noting how she seems kind of distant. You can’t help but be reminded of those initial months, the transitional stages of your lives where the world was turned upside down. How she’d shut down almost entirely, rarely speaking. Rarer still to get anything coherent, like she was trapped in a dream state. “I just…I wanted to see you,” you murmur, moving toward her.

Haunted eyes flick up to meet you, blank as they take you in with ghostly smoothness. She blinks and it’s gone, gesturing to a seat opposite from her, closer to the fire but angled for prime conversation. A smile lifts the edges of her mouth, etched with strain, chest stretching as you take in her fatigue.

Sigh heavily, settling into the plush armchair, remaining straight-backed as you put the paper bag at your feet, careful with the little carving. Wait for a beat to pass before looking to her, cocoa already reattached to the fire. “Elain,” you call quietly, gaining her attention. In the light of the flame the circles beneath her eyes are more pronounced, shadow flickering across the heavy crescents. Worry takes root in your gut—it seems to be taking more of a tole on her than you’d thought.

“You went out with Mor today didn’t you?” Elain asks, voice soft and faint, as if coming out of a daze. A shy smile curves your lips, nodding. “How was it?” She asks distantly, gently curled hair hanging in rich ringlets, tight and silky as they spill down the lilac night gown she likes. Throat rolls, turning your attention to the fire. Will this ever be an easy subject between the two of you? Between any of you?

Eyes flit down to the bag, pulling it up into your lap for comfort. “It was good,” you manage softly, nodding. “It was…nice. To be outside. Around someone, for a little.” Elain nods, a bland smile on her face, though you don’t doubt its sincerity. “I—…Mor’s nice,” you add, fumbling your words as you try to direct the flow of the conversation toward what you’re trying to get at. But you’ve never been good at reading the room, and it’s showing.

“You should…I mean, it would be nice for you to come along sometime…” you suggest, trailing off as fingers wring together in your lap, playing with the paper handle of the bag. “We could…I don’t know…” Shift in the chair as you try to think of something. “I’m sure there are some shops for gardening, or somewhere to sample pastries? You’re trying out pastries at the moment, aren’t you?” Eyes flit to your sister, the smile gone from her lips, lids heavy as she soaks in the heat of the fire. Letting it drink her in.

She’s quiet, and it’s obvious something’s off. Or is she just tired? She’d told you she’d been sleeping badly recently, has it not yet gotten better? Run your attention over her supple form, smooth skin over tight knuckles, the lilac of the fabric complimenting her drained complexion, dark circles beneath her eyes making the rich coca of her irises deeper, swirling with thought. They flick to you suddenly, shadow being cast across her delicate features as she turns, as if about to speak.

You look down into your lap abruptly, staring at the little carving. “I miss dad,” you blurt out quietly, the words being hauled up your throat, spat out into the air.

Elain stiffens in your peripherals, and your lips press together tight. Heart heavies, shoulders no longer being held taut as you begin to drown into the cushion. “I know…” you begin quietly, thoughts eddying away once you try to grasp for them. Just stare at the maiden holding the drooping daisies. “I was thinking about him,” you say quietly, managing to keep your voice somewhat even. “Earlier, when I was out with Mor,” you clarify, reaching into the bag.

Push the paper apart, reaching for the female figurine. Fingers brush the smooth wood of the carved figure, the pads able to sense the very grain with heightened nerve endings. She’s hewn from a darker material, deep brown and riddled with smooth and polished knots, creating a labyrinthine twist of swirling lines and wrinkles. It was probably once a beautiful piece of trunk, carried from a forest to a carpenters shop, whittled away until the figure emerged.

“I want to speak with you.”

You look up, hand stilling, fingers grasping the carving. Maybe…you’ve learned in the past it’s better to let someone else lead the conversation. Yours don’t seem to go anywhere unless the other is interested in a continuation.

“Okay,” you murmur, releasing the statue, pulling free as you return the bag to your feet, set aside so you can deliver her your full attention. “What is it?”

Elain blinks slowly, and hairs rise on the back of your neck.

“Elain?” You encourage, no more than a whisper.

For a long moment she won’t speak, just watching intently, as if she can see through you and is examining the sub-atomic structure of your soul, down to the bits and bobs between. Stiffen as cocoa bores into you, looking far older than should be possible as the flame flickers dully in muted brown. Throat rolls, trying to maintain the connection, letting her know you’re there. She’s been around for you; it’s the least you can do.

The contact breaks, her lids closing briefly, gaze returning to quietly observe the fire. Taking in its motion—how the heat wells, practically rolling from the hearth to the rugged floorboards. “There’s been something…” Elegant brows dip almost imperceptibly, the edges of her delicate mouth quivering, lips parted on a syllable. Close again, as if the words won’t suffice for what she’s trying to say. The fire almost seems to match her, growing more intense as she stares into it, shadows darkening as they writhe across the walls, like the wings of a great creature.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she murmurs absently.

Worry sparks across your chest but you say nothing, allowing her to articulate her thoughts at the pace she wishes.

Cocoa returns to you, the colour of conkers—you can picture them sitting cozily among the branches of a dense forest, perfectly in place. “I need you to be calm,” she says firmly. “Can you do that for me?” Brow narrows in confusion, attention fading form your body as it’s directed to your older sister, posture lithe but firm. Sitting with the preternatural stillness of the fae, and something more… Something beyond what even…

You nod—as if your voice might break whatever she’s fallen into. Might cause a change in mind, your chance to comfort her lost. She stares for a moment longer, quiet and observing. An unwelcome itch builds beneath your knuckles, but you push it away, attention solely on your older sister. Her pupils seem to be the wrong size, as if you’re something far off in the distance that she’s struggling to focus on. Her posture relaxes, silently settling into the depth of her armchair, as if it might hold her together.

“Sleep has been difficult as of late,” she murmurs, eyes locked to yours and you find yourself unable to look away. She keeps herself still; poised; refined. Even in the undress of her lilac night robe, she’s collected, but there’s something off tonight. You nod in understanding—sleeping can be difficult. Especially after the war.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” The question pulls from your lips before it’s fully formed in your mind. A faint smile sharpens her mouth—hairs prickling at the nape of your neck. Cocoa blinks, and the sharpness has faded, settling into the familiar gentle curve that makes Elain herself. “I’m perfectly fine,” she replies quietly, though her voice is strained. Eyes again run over you, weighing. Again you keep still, enduring the assessment.

Tongue peeks out to wet her lips, shadows flickering across her face as she shifts in her seat. “I’ve been trying some different tonics,” she admits quietly. “Chamomile, root ginger, valerian…they work fine, and I end up falling asleep swiftly.”

A dull wave of relief washes through your system, like a cool balm to desiccated skin. “I’m glad, ‘Lain,” you say softly, happy she’s found a remedy. But Elain shakes her head solemnly, shadows growing darker, weighing beneath her eyes. “It’s not…I’m not struggling with sleep,” she whispers, as if the walls are sitting in on the conversation. Eyes flit about, and your brows narrow. She’s being shifty. “Maybe we should have this conversation in your room,” she murmurs to herself, fingers massaging her temples.

“Elain…” you interject quietly, worry lacing your tone, “are you okay?” Eyes flick to you, heavy with gravity. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You press gently. Could she have been sold another kind of herb? “You don’t seem fine…” She waves her hand dismissively, as if physically able to bat the thought away. She exhales heavily, staring again into the fire. Deep into the flames, like she can see to the other side.

“Chamomile, valerian, send me to sleep fine. It’s just not—” She cuts off, searching for the word. “They don’t send me deep enough,” she murmurs, a slight tremor in her voice. “What do you mean?” You ask, shifting toward her in your seat. Eyes snap to you with the movement, brows curving in a look of…

Fear.

You pull back, comprehending. Lean forward, on the verge of standing to cross the room to be at her side again. Like you were for those initial months. “Elain, what’s wrong?” You repeat, anxious to assuage her anxiety however you can.

“They’re back,” she whispers hoarsely. Fingers tremble in her lap, lightly gripping the lilac of her skirts to calm herself. “It’s the same thing again and again,” she manages, staring at you from across the hearth. “I see you at the edge of a forest with the wolves, traveling with the fox, ending with the…” She shakes her head. Steadying her breathing. Calming her nerves.

“There’s a flash of light—light like starfall, except it itches. Itches and burns. And then he’s down, and bleeding, and—”

“Elain, slow down,” you interrupt, standing from your seat as you hurry to her side, fingers linking with her own to soothe the trembles. Crouch before her, clasping her hands in you own gloved ones. “I don’t understand,” you say, staring up at her. “What are you talking about?”

Cocoa drains, dark and haunted.

“They’re back,” she whispers. “The visions.”

General taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

cbmthy taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde @fall-myriad @historygeekqueen @erin-m-harmon

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #Azriel acotar #a court of silver flames

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eyelessfaces · 6 days

Text

uncalled for

summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids

tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)

It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again.

“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you.

“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.

“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.

“Babe come on you know that’s not–”

You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest.

It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience.

You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there.

When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.

When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.

—

A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.

“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.

He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.

“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.

He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement.

“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.”

You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”

“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”

“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”

Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff.

“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.

It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.

“What’s he doing here”

Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.

You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”

BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.

Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.

You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.

“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.

“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice.

“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”

Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”

—

reblogs and feedback are extremely (I cannot stress this enough) appreciated!!

star wars masterlist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fluff #star wars #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #poe dameron angst

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hazbin-a-helluvamagines · 5 months

Note

Hey ! 😋 I loved those Verosika headcanons, I wanted to see if we can have a Verosika x cute idol reader one shot ?

Basically cute idol reader meets blitz by accident (reader didn't know about blitz and Verosikas last relationship), blitz just tells the reader lots of shit about Verosika (things like: "she doesn't actually love you", "you're just a temporary toy", etc) reader just starts crying out of sadness and insecurity and Verosika comes to help and comfort her cute s/o 🩷

Verosika Mayday's S/O Being Told By Blitzø That She Doesn't Love Them

As you were heading home from your latest show, you stopped inside a Hot Topic to pick something cute up for your girlfriend, Verosika. You weren't sure a succubus would like much from there, but a lot of things seemed to suit her style, so you figured it would be your best bet, and you wanted to surprise her.

As you were looking through the racks, you spotted a small, orangish-red creature with large horns protruding from his head waiting outside of the changing room. Based on Verosika, you could tell he was a demon, and if you remembered correctly, an imp. You debated on going and introducing yourself to him, but decided against it, figuring it would be awkward to do just because you happened to know a succubus, so you brushed it off and went back to your shopping, spending another five or six minutes looking through the racks of clothing for something perfect to gift Verosika.

That didn't last long before a voice snapped you out of your haze.

"Hey," the voice said, and you turned to see the imp from earlier glaring you down with a smug grin covering his face. "You're Verosika's little pet, right?"

"I-I'm sorry?" you stuttered in disbelief. How did he know Verosika? And why did it seem like he didn't like her? Who could dislike Verosika, anyway?

"Answer the question, shit face," he replied in an increasingly irritated tone.

"I-I'm her partner, yes..." you answered in a soft voice, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the way his eyes bore into you as though searching for an unseen weakness hidden somewhere within you. His eyes widened before his smile became twice as malicious.

"Partner?" he repeated incredulously, as though he didn't believe you, laughing along as he did mockingly. "Take it from me, toots, she doesn't love you. You're nothing but a pump-and-dump to her. Y'know, a fun-and-run."

"Excuse me? What are you saying?" you asked timidly, tears stinging the outer corners of your eyes as you spoke.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm her ex-boyfriend or whatever," he said quickly, in a tone that implied he was somewhat embarrassed over having had an intimate relationship with your girlfriend.

You winced. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"You're temporary to her. Just like I was. You're nothing but a toy for her to play with and abandon when she's done. A... rebound, you could say," he answered with a smirk, his tail flicking out behind him.

"I-I... I have to go..." you replied, rushing out of the store with nothing to give Verosika in the end.

Behind you, the imp's face morphed into an expression of guilt, knowing he hadn't told you the full truth, but he quickly wiped it away as his daughter came out of the changing room.

~♡~

That evening, Verosika had been quick to notice something was off with you. She could sense lust and its absence, sure, but that didn't mean she couldn't sense an imbalance in other emotions, too. After an hour or so of keeping up the charade and hoping you would feel better after having some time to think on it, she finally broke the silence.

"Okay, what's wrong? You've been acting weird ever since you came home," she asked, raising one eyebrow suspiciously. She would know if you lied to her, and you knew it. Not that you were an exceptional liar, anyway. You were too innocent for that.

"I-It's nothing, Rossi..." you tried to lie, but Verosika's hand reached up to you and cupped your cheek, her expression growing concerned.

"Love, please. I want to help you, but I can't if I don't know what's wrong," she whispered to you, you nodding in response.

"I... ran into your ex today, and he... he said..." You were cut off with a low growl from Verosika, her eyes glowing a pale pink with rage, even through her human disguise.

"That prick..." she snarled, turning back to you with a worried expression. "What did he say to you? I'll rip his cock off..."

"He... He said that you don't love me. That you'll have your fun and then leave me," you sniffled, curling your knees to your chest to hide the tears pricking at your eyes.

"What?! He... Oh, goodness, S/O..." she whispered, stunned by the horrid things you were telling her. "That's absolutely not true. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't bother dating you. It's a lot more work to get into a relationship than to have a one-night stand, y'know?" she asked rhetorically, a small smile crossing her lips. "So please, don't ever think I don't love you, sugar," she said, peppering your face in kisses.

Yeah, you knew she wasn't like that.

#blitzo #helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluvaboss #verosika x reader #helluva boss verosika #helluva verosika #verosika helluva boss #verosika mayday

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jungkookstatts · 1 year

Text

Massage Envy

[Summary]: Jungkook’s been stressed these days. What’s a better way to relax him other than a massage?

[Theme]: Established relationship!AU

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, blow job, slight ass play, fluff if you squint, lots of making out, very sensual lovin’

[Word Count]: 4,939

[Author’s Note]: This is so descriptive 😀. I wanna say this was one of the first fan fics I wrote…at least of JK. So, bare with it. I tried to edit my terrible writing as much as I could ㅜㅡㅜ

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

“Feel good?” you question as you dig your thumbs into your boyfriend’s shoulders. You sigh happily, knowing that the man beneath you is receiving some form of release, as your fingers circulate into his honey skin. The knots in Jungkook’s muscles completely unravel beneath your fingertips, and you’re determined to unravel every last one of them for the rest of the night. He deserves it, anyways.

You wanted to give your boyfriend relief after the hell he put himself through this week. Jungkook knew it too – his body was too spent to deny help at this point, and the only person he is comfortable with seeing himself this way is you. So, of course, he readily gave himself to you, allowing you to rub away at the damage and replace it with your tender touches.

Jungkook groans in response to you, languidly nodding his head against the pillows. Sitting just below his ass, you press his body further into your shared mattress as you continue to work your hands lovingly into his skin.

Your boyfriend lies face-down on his side of the bed; his long, black hair is fanned out across the silk cover of the pillowcase, creating a little black halo of hair around his skull. The room is somewhat dark, only Jungkook’s table lamp lighting up the small corner of your shared bedroom. The light perfectly reflects the shine of his hair, and you can’t help but admire how well taken care of it is as he shifts his head into a non-verbal “yes”.

“I lovfe yhou sooooo much, bahbe–” Jungkook muffled against the pillow, his face totally smushed in the depths of the fabric. He sounds completely relaxed – voice scratchy and spent – as he allows himself to completely surrender to your touch.

Flustered at his confession, you work your thumbs harder into the knots on his shoulders, loving the way he immediately tenses and then relaxes as you smooth out the tightness within them.

Jungkook came home from practice today tense as a board. His muscles were rock hard, he couldn’t seem to sit still or take the time to breathe correctly, and he had a headache so frustrating and annoying he looked as if he was going to cry.

For the past few days, the man’s been training nonstop, working his body to the breaking point on one day and then working past that point on the next. You knew telling him to just “calm down” or “take a break” would fly right past his head – in one ear and out the other. It is not very useful advice, either. But you’re not good with words, and you didn’t have the right ones to say at the moment, either.

Your boyfriend is stubborn and is probably the most meticulous perfectionist you know; finding a way to comfort him when he is like this is not easy. He almost always goes his own way to get things done, refusing to allow anyone to interfere or help. Jungkook has told you before that it is like receiving a punch to the face when someone notices he looks off or thinks that he needs help with something he has been working on really hard on his own. He wants to appear strong and capable, regardless of his condition. Especially to you.

It has gotten better over time, though. The longer you explore each other, the better he feels about reaching out to you for comfort or help. You love seeing the transformations the two of you have overcome within yourselves since starting a relationship all those years ago. You two have really changed so much.

The smile on your face as Jungkook willingly slumped against you at the mention of a massage reminded you of that change. How, if you were to ask him if you could give him one because of his state a few years ago, he would have totally missed out on the opportunity. But now, he completely embraces your help, your concern, all of you, and all of himself – flaws and all.

“Love you, too,” you chuckle before leaning down to kiss his shoulder affectionately. Reaching for the peach-scented body oil on his nightstand, you quickly pop the lid open and tilt the bottle over his back. The oil slowly trickles onto his skin, the shallow lighting making the liquid on his honey skin all the more self-evident. It tempts you as it slides down his back in slow, thick drops.

“You need to take better care of yourself, babe,” you reprimand him as you spread the oil down to his lower back. “You can’t continue to improve if you don’t listen to your body.”

You watch the pinkish oil smear between your fingers as you touch his skin. The intimacy of the moment and the low lighting of the room makes something within you stir. Giving each other massages isn’t a foreign task between you two. In fact, they’ve developed into small mannerisms of affection in your relationship. They usually shift between gentle rubs on the shoulders while waiting for the other to finish up some online work, a hand massage whilst holding hands, or a tummy rub after eating one too many king-sized spicy ramen bowls. They are small gestures that both you and Jungkook admire.

But something about this massage – right when he needs it the most – makes the butterflies in your tummy relentlessly flutter their wings. The fluster it creates within you prompts you to circle your thumbs deeply along the outer muscles of his spine. Judging from the way he physically jolts as you work the area, you assume that the muscles there were abused the most over the last few days. You keep that in mind as you continue kneading his back.

“Mmhmmm – ahh jagiya — right there,” he groans, dismissing your earlier statement. The way your hands have found nearly every sore spot on his back has Jungkook completely blissed out. It feels so good – almost orgasmic, even – when your fingers rub away at the tension he ignored for so long. It has him thanking the heavens for your wonderful hands and simultaneously cursing at himself for not acknowledging them more in the past.

He must worship them later, he’s decided.

Listening to your boyfriend, you move your fingers firmly down near the lowest parts of his spine, which evokes an even deeper moan from his throat. You can hear it loud and clear, even though the front of his body is pushed like a brick against the sheets as you work your hands on him. It’s so deep, it sends heavy shocks throughout his entire body (and yours).

Sitting on top of him, you can’t help but blush. You aren’t a rock – of course, his moans would spark the dirtiness within you to flush your cheeks into a dark hue. No matter the innocent intent you had prior to the massage, you can’t deny your boyfriend’s reactions to your touches make your pussy ache for more.

He sounds so sexy and raptured. The way he groans when you hit the spots he can’t reach, and the way he whines when you massage the spots that are the tensest – all of it has your cheeks hot and your thighs feeling like jello. You wonder if he can feel the pool between your thighs grow with each moan that physically vibrates through his body and straight to your core.

But this massage is not about you, and these dirty thoughts have no place here. Especially when you’re trying so graciously to knead his muscle-y, hot, tense, sexy back with domestic care. Yep, they have no place here. No place at all. Even though the angle you sit at gives you the perfect view of his toned ass. In fact, you have the perfect view of his entire backside. With every massage against a sore spot, his thighs flex underneath you and unknowingly lift you higher until they relax again.

It’s all too much…his back, skin, ass, thighs, arms… the way he whimpers and moans and tenses from your fingers alone. How can you stay innocent when sounds so sweet underneath you?

You can’t help but want to please him in a different way now – still with your hands, and still to bring him to the pit of relaxation. Just…in a different area…for a different part of the brain.

Your stare wanders around his back. His broad shoulders are wide and stretched out for you, his forearms resting just underneath his pillow while his biceps poke out from the pillow like a triangle, supporting his head from underneath. The skin of his shoulders teases you with memories of when they had the reddest of scratches and the purplest of love bites covering the large surface. You have to make him feel that kind of good tonight. Maybe even better.

Challenging him, you lift your ass off his upper thighs and bring your lips to the very base of his neck before kissing the skin there softly. It’s feather-light, testing the waters before you dive in. You can feel the goosebumps appear under the hand that still works his muscles at his lower back. The other slowly slides up the side of his chest with ease. With the help of the oil, your hand against his warm skin slides like silk underneath your fingertips, feeling his body underneath you slowly and sensually.

Jungkook shivers as your mouth hovers above his skin, waiting for what you’ll do next. He gulps as you make your next move, sucking on the skin you just kissed. Your tongue is so hot and wet, lapping and sucking at his skin with slow passion. He whimpers underneath you, loving the way your touch turned from moral to intimate.

Jungkook would be lying if he said the whole experience wasn’t just as sexy for him, too. You turned him on from the moment you sat on the back of his thighs and dripped the hot oil onto his back. Your heat is so obvious to him – your heartbeat thumping through your pussy, gathering more heat against his thighs with each garbled moan and whimper that left his mouth. You are basically dripping through your night shorts. Although, he cannot tease you for it, because his own cock painfully pokes against the fabric of the mattress as you sit on his ass.

Your hand pressing on his lower back parallels the motion of your hand on the opposite side, just underneath his arm. Both glide to his upper back with the help of the oil as you begin to kiss down his spine. You manage to find a place between a few pecks against his spine to whisper, “Turn around for me,”

And he does in a heartbeat, immensely determined to feel you on his lap. Jungkook doesn’t know if he can wait anymore. He wants to feel you brushing against his length as you spread oil all over his chest and abs. He wants your hands on him again, to feel your fingers torture his skin and keep him begging for more. The thought alone has blood rushing straight to his already straining cock in his tight boxers.

Once settled, you softly plop yourself right on top of his dick, sending him a smirk whilst his jaw tightens at the feeling of his cock resting beneath your core. Jungkook looks at you with need, his bottom lip tortured underneath his front teeth as he watches you start to move your hips tremendously slow against his.

You can feel the way his dick twitches when you place your oily hands firmly against his lower abs, slowly moving up toward his nipples. You rest your hand flat on his chest, trapping his nipples between your index and middle finger. Jungkook lets out an airy grunt as you leisurely bring the two digits together, gently pinching the sensitive buds between them. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his chest as you start to move your fingers with his nipples trapped between them, the sensitivity exciting him beyond belief.

Your hands leave his nipples and continue their northern journey up to his clavicles, then to his neck, and finally his jaw. Softly holding his face in your hands, you lower your face to his. Jungkook’s eyes close in anticipation, his face gently pressing up towards yours, expecting to be kissed. He whines when you antagonize him with just a light brush of your lips against his.

Jungkook breathes deeply against your mouth, exhaling in torment and inhaling with the highest level of self-control he can muster.

“Please,” he begs just above a whisper.

Eyes closed and a tortured wrinkle between his brows, he waits for your lips to break the tension. He is so patient and willing tonight, so you decide to reward him with a firm press of your lips to his, moving against his soft mouth surely.

You can feel the vibration of the moan he lets out from his lips smacking against yours. His voice travels straight to your core, prompting your hips to circle his own faster in search of friction.

Jungkook swipes his tongue against your lips, feeling the desire for your tongue to dance with his own. His hands come up to your jaw, holding you in place against his mouth as if you’d run away if he didn’t hold you there himself.

Jungkook grunts at the way your hips harshly grind against his. He wants more of you – he always wants more of you – but his head is too fuzzy with pleasure to think straight. You’re kissing him stupid.

His body acts on its own, his large hands moving from your jaw to under your night shirt. Hot palms follow his desire to feel you as he cups the area just under your boobs, thumbs swiping back and forth against the skin underneath them. He can feel your heartbeat thumping rapidly underneath his palm, prompting him to lightly circle his thumb over the aroused area of your breast. Jungkook’s mouth still moves in tandem with yours as he tweaks your nipples in between his fingertips.

Jungkook groans at the way you gently bite on his lower lip before trailing your kisses down to his neck. He only gets louder when you find his sweet spot before he can even process the fact that you’re sucking on his neck. Jungkook’s head falls back onto the pillows as his hands move down to grip your ass in his hands. Groping both cheeks firmly, he pulls them apart before grinding them down harshly onto his bulge, giving one of them a harsh smack out of his pure arousal.

You attack his neck, forming bruise after bruise on his precious skin. Your boyfriend flushes his body into yours from pleasure. You want to wreck him so badly. Feeling evil and lustrous, you bite his sweet spot hard, overcome by the man underneath you. Jungkook’s mouth falls open at the feeling, head pressing further against the cushion of the pillow.

Still kissing his neck, you reach for the bottle on the nightstand, pop the lid open with your thumb, and tip the bottle over his chest. The oil runs all over his tanned skin, slowly covering it with a teasing glow over his chest and abs. Raising your head, you stare down at the man beneath you lovingly, looking into his eyes with lust as you continue to grind on his cock firmly.

Your hands venture from his chest to his clavicles, shoulders, arms, and hands, and then back to his pecks, stopping briefly to play with his nipples again.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat as you roll them between your fingers, his eyes fluttering slightly as he tries his hardest to keep eye contact with you.

Impulsively, his hips buck into your own when you come down to suck one into your mouth, licking and biting at the sensitive area of his chest. Jungkook tries to control his breathing, he really does, but it feels so good. Too good. And you haven’t even touched his dick yet.

Grinning at the way his chest uncontrollably tightens from your mouth, you reach for more oil before dripping the liquid down his abs. It trickles over his pack, the six defined rolls acting as hills when the oil attempts to slip over each one.

Picking up the pace, you move your hips faster against him. You watch his eyes flutter closed, enjoying the way your thinly clothed core rubs against the front of his Calvin’s. His cock is completely hard and throbbing against you. You’re driving him mad with everything that is you. He could cum right now if you’d let him, but he knows better.

Fingers spreading the oil across his abs, you enjoy the way your boyfriend’s eyebrows fuse together in pure satisfaction. Jungkook’s head feels dazed and light when you begin to kiss him on the skin just below his ear.

“Look at me, Jungkook,” you whisper against the cartilage of his ear.

Jungkook shivers at your voice in his ear, listening to your breathy sighs against his skin, feeling your wet lips kiss him from his ears to his neck, to his chest, all the way down to his clothed dick behind his black boxers. He stares at you like you asked him to, watching you intensely as you rest between his thighs, lightly kissing his covered shaft.

Jungkooks fists ball the sheets beside him, his head falling back at the feeling before quickly returning back to your gaze.

“Please,” he begs you again, cheeks flushed, ears red, and breath heavy from the teasing you have given him. He tries his best not to buck his hips at you, channeling the desire in his throat instead, swallowing harshly and waiting patiently to be touched.

Jungkook groans when he watches your mouth lick from his base to tip on the thin fabric, tongue teasing his cock.

“Nghhh–” he whines, briefly tilting his head back again in an effort to keep his control. “Fuck, please, baby. I need you so bad.”

Wrapping your lips around his clothed head, you hum deeply against him, sending shocks of ecstasy throughout his entire cock. Jungkook’s thighs tense at the feeling, trying to direct the pressure to his legs instead of having it tempt his vision from falling back again. He needs you, and the only way you will give him what he wants is if he does what is asked of him.

“Okay, baby,” you finally give in, chuckling a little when he sighs loudly in relief. He truly doesn’t know how long he is going to last in your mouth, but he knows for a fact he’s probably going to have one of the best orgasms of his life from just your mouth alone.

Hooking your index fingers under the waistband of his boxers, you slowly and gently tug them down his legs and onto the floor, watching his cock spring up in excitement.

The sight has your mouth watering immediately – dick red and angry, just asking to be sucked on. Licking your lips, you softly cup his balls in one hand and grip the base of his cock in the other. Jungkook’s head falls back, biting his lip so hard he swears he will bleed. His fists scratch at the mattress, trying his best not to release from finally being touched in the area he’s been begging for release from.

“Watch me, Jungkook, or I’ll stop,” you command, giving his balls a squeeze.

“Okay–ffuckk–o-okay,” he moans, quickly bunching up the pillows behind his head to get a better look at you. Jungkook gulps at the sight: your lips are so wet, basically drooling on his cock. Your hands grip his dick in the way he loves best, your face so determined to give him pleasure. He’s never seen anything so goddamn sexy before in his life. And to think you’re all his…the fact makes him go absolutely insane underneath you.

You lick at his tip teasingly, keeping eye contact with him to make sure he’s not taking his eyes off you. Jungkook stares back at you with drunken eyes. He’s flushed and obedient to whatever you do to him, ready for you to play with his pleasure.

You can’t help but give in, teasing him again with your tongue along his frenulum, lapping it up and down on the sensitive fold.

Your hands slowly pump the base of his cock, palms gliding well with the help of the oil from earlier. You don’t go all the way up to his tip, just to edge him further.

“G-god, you’re so fffucking mean,” he laughs tightly in his chest. He’s struggling, but it only makes you smile, loving that he knows that you’re the one in charge tonight.

Looking at his chest as you move your mouth from his frenulum to the tip of his head, smiling at the way he tries to keep his calm when you slick your tongue up and down across the most sensitive part of him. Lips wrapping around his angry tip, you suck him harshly as your wrists flick slowly up and down the rest of his cock, twisting all the way up to your mouth and back down to the base.

“A-ahhh, j-jagi,” Jungkook whines, hands trapping your hair tightly in his fists.

You stare at him the whole time, watching his face go from frustrated to pure euphoria as he struggles to keep his eyes open. After a few more strokes of his cock, one of your twisting hands leaves his dick to skim your fingertip across the skin connecting his balls to his shaft.

Your tongue delves further down his dick, your mouth following afterward, sinking down onto him completely, your nose nudging the skin of his pelvis.

“Nghhh..!” he nearly shouts, legs tensing – almost kicking – against the bedding.

Jungkook’s eyes come back and forth between the back of his skull and your face a few times before you swallow his top at the back of your throat. At this point, his grip on your hair is so tight, your own eyes start to roll back in pleasure.

Jungkook moans so loudly into the empty air of your bedroom that you feel your own slick start to uncomfortably drip down the side of your thigh. Your cunt is pulsing and hot, begging for friction as you deliver pleasure to your sweet boyfriend.

He is just so sexy like this, struggling to follow your demand whilst receiving euphoric pleasure. Your pussy can’t take it anymore, and you suddenly find yourself reaching your free hand down past your night shorts, circling your clit as you trace the outer rim of his ass with your other hand.

Swallowing a few more times around him, you bring your mouth back up to his tip only to sink back down on him again. Gathering a semi-quick pace to fuck him with, you watch his face and thigh muscles contort in euphoric unison. The finger gently plays with his ass coming back and forth between his balls, shaft, and ass as you bob your head up and down on him, your tongue swirling around him altogether.

Jungkook is going absolutely mad, whimpering and moaning as you continue to wrap him around your pretty little finger, watching your beautiful face fuck him with your mouth willingly. Just cause you want to.

It takes everything in him not to say "fuck it" and buck his hips violently into your mouth. He fights his pleasure and your set rule in a bloody war between obedience and desire. You can tell with the way his eyes struggle to not find purchase at the back of his head, and the way his dick twitches in your mouth every so often. His reactions have you rubbing at yourself harder, and before long, you moan into him as your slick gathers around your fingers.

Jungkook hadn't noticed you started touching yourself until now. The slick from your pussy snaps in the air as you harshly rub your fingers against yourself. Jungkook's eyes trail from your face to your hand, circling yourself fast and hard between your legs. At the sight, his thighs tense harshly against you, threatening to close around your body and trap you tightly between his legs. His toes curl at the sight of you touching yourself, the scene so sexy that his cock twitches uncontrollably in your mouth. Pushing a finger into his ass from the loss of eye contact, you watch his eyes and head go back completely, giving up on your request as your finger finds his prostate.

"Ahh, ah—mGHhhh, ba-baby...gonna cum. I'm gonna cum—" He moans euphorically. Jungkook pushes your head down onto his cock quickly, his hips bucking upwards into your throat.

He thrusts into your mouth now, completely disobeying himself and your word. But after seeing you touch yourself just from sucking him off, he can’t listen to anything else but his desire.

You choke against him, tears forming at the edges of your eyes. Jungkook's head seizes deep into the cushion of the pillows, neck tense and strained as he completely empties his balls into your mouth, the hot thick ropes of his release filling you up. You take all of him, refusing to waste a drop.

You keep trailing your finger in, out, and around his balls and ass as you suck his cum into your mouth for what felt like a full minute, watching him pant and moan your name incoherently as he does so. You take it all graciously, enjoying the way his gratefulness for you shows in the way he continues to release himself.

Lifting your mouth from his cock, you rest your forehead against his upper thigh as you whimper and gasp against him. Not soon after, your cunt gushes all over your fingers, letting it soak your panties and shorts. You moan against his thigh while your fingers work through the last few waves of your orgasm.

The two of you breathe harshly against each other for a few minutes. Your bodies sink into the mattress heavily, allowing yourselves to take the time to catch your breath. That is until you break the silence with a shy giggle.

"What's—" He rasps, clearing his throat before continuing. "What's so funny?"

You hum, kissing his thigh lovingly before looking up to his fucked-out face. "You made me cum my pants."

"Heh," He smiles, leaning his head back against the pillows again, giving you a sickeningly hot view of his neck. You watch his Adam's apple move up and down from his next words "Yeah, well, I think you gave me the best head I've ever received in my life. Didn't think sucking cock would make you cum that hard, though."

"I always feel like that when I suck your cock," You smirk, to which Jungkook eyes you, telling you not to make him horny again. You chuckle before climbing up his body to kiss his lips.

Jungkook can't help but smile against you, though still completely dazed from his orgasm. He doesn't care in the slightest that he can taste himself on your lips. He only cares about the way your lips slowly tuck into his in soft, drawn-out motions.

"I love you," You mumble against his cherry lips.

"I love you, too," He smiles sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Thank you for taking care of me. I know I can ignore self-care sometimes, but I'll try to be better. For both you and me."

Smiling at his words, you kiss the tip of his nose before nuzzling your face into his neck, breathing his familiar scent deeply.

"Although, if I get that kind of treatment every time I go overboard..."

You pinch his shoulder, eliciting a sexy chuckle from his chest.

"Shut up, loser. Acknowledge my massage."

Jungkook turns himself into you, pulling you closer into his chest whilst laughing deeply in your ear, his breath lightly tickling the side of your neck.

"Your massage was wonderful," He whispers, kissing your forehead sweetly. "Let me give you one next time, yeah?"

Taking a deep breath against his chest, you tightly wrap your arm under his, hand coming to grab at his shoulder. Jungkook hugs you as you tighten around his body. His fingers gently trap your chin between them, moving your face up to his.

Jungkook stares at you questionably, waiting for a response. He looks at you with one eyebrow raised, and the other relaxed. The tiny mole underneath his bottom lip is extremely visible from where you stare up at him. His cherry lips tempt you yet again, swollen and red from harsh tugs delivered against them earlier this evening. You watch his dark brown eyes stare down at your own puffy lips. He gives in first, letting his lips feel the velvet of your own. Jungkook sighs into you, rubbing your back soothingly as he swipes and brushes his lips against yours like honey.

Pulling away, you look at his face, feeling an overwhelming amount of love surge through your entire body. He keeps his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of your body so close to his.

"I'd like that," You whisper against his cheek. Jungkook opens his eyes again, tugging his lips upwards as he slowly nudges his nose against yours.

After a few more moments, he gently scoops you into his arms, lifting you up in his strong hold, before carrying you to the bathroom to clean you two up.

----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

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robthegoodfellow · 7 months

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Let's Hear It for the Boy

Praise Kink for Day 3 of @harringrovekinktober

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a good boy, nsfw)

Steve felt like a real asshole when Robin asked out of the blue one day, maybe a month after he and Billy became roommates, if Billy was paying part of his rent in labor. Shave some off if he agreed to be your housekeeper? And, at Steve’s incredulous bafflement, had clarified: Every time I’m over he’s cooking or doing laundry or—cleaning shit! To his horror, a highlight reel started up in his mind, a montage of Billy doing all those chores and more, and worse, Steve realized he’d contributed approximately nothing to the daily maintenance of their shared living space. Steve! Robin had scolded, correctly interpreting his guilty grimace.

So he’d promised to talk to Billy about it—assure him that keeping the place sparkling was in no way required or expected or—or if that was just how he preferred to live, then he’d promise to do his fair share from now on. Only, bringing it up over pizza and beer, a basketball game on TV, had produced an unexpected reaction. Billy… kinda… froze? Went bug-eyed, like Steve had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. He looked embarrassed.

“Man, it’s fine,” Steve said, tripping over himself to explain—put him at ease. “I really don’t care either way. I just wanted to check and make sure you knew I wasn’t gonna, like—kick you out if you let up on the Cinderella routine.”

Billy flushed more, beet red, and Steve resisted smacking himself in the face. He was fucking this up so bad.

“I mean—”

“I don’t mind,” Billy mumbled, avoiding Steve’s eye as he reached for his beer. “I like it.”

“Okay,” Steve said, over the top encouraging. “Great. Well, I’ll at least pitch in more—”

“You don’t have to do that.” Billy’s throat worked, gulping, plush lips pursed on the can. Steve blinked, shook his head, tuned back in to catch the muttered aside, blue gaze locked on the Michelob commercial. “It’s all good. Nothing has to change.”

Why the hell was he being so weird about this? Did he think Steve couldn’t chip in? Pull his own weight?

“Just because I grew up with a nanny doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do stuff. Vacuum and dishes and—”

Billy grunted, annoyed, throwing his shoulders back to wedge himself into the couch, a mulish slouch. “Just drop it, will ya? I like things how they are, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“All right, jeez,” Steve cried, holding up his hands. “Touchy.”

They were quiet, both ticked, but the kind that would drain away by halftime. Except—he felt shitty just leaving it like this, having semi-acknowledged that Billy was acting like his maid.

“Is there anything I can do?” Steve asked, his tone deliberately mild, not looking away from the freethrow swishing on screen. “That you don’t like?”

No explosion—good sign. After a long, loaded pause, Billy sighed. “Take out the trash.”

“Got it,” Steve said. And let it go.

But from then on, he kept watch, determined to figure out the source of the weirdness. Almost positive it wasn’t a control freak thing or a neat freak thing—it wasn’t like the apartment was pristine. It was more that… everyday, Billy had done something obvious enough that Steve commented on it—always had. Nothing major, just Oh, hey—you got that stain out of the carpet or Holy shit, it smells so good—what is that? or How’d you unclog that drain? Wasn’t like he thanked Billy, though he probably should have been—although maybe Billy didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it?—but he’d always notice and say something admiring because Billy was good at stuff. Good at so much stuff.

He started taking out the trash, and Billy never let on that he noticed, but Steve thought he did. And he kept up the compliments whenever Billy did something nice, since that hadn’t been explicitly forbidden. But since he was paying more attention now, he—noticed some things. Only when he was pretending to look elsewhere, monitoring Billy in his periphery or in the reflection of the window or decorative mirrors his mom had foisted on him. He noticed that, those times, Billy sort of… ducked his head, hiding a grin that bordered on… bashful? And his shoulders bowed a bit, like he was—curling in on himself. Like—in delight?

Like—he secretly really liked it? When Steve noticed he’d done something nice? When Steve said something nice about it?

So… he decided to test it. Nothing too overbearing or obvious, just—instead of merely noticing, he was sure to compliment. Because why not, if Billy liked it and still wouldn’t let Steve lift a finger except on garbage day?

Good became his go-to. This tastes so good. That looks so good. Good, good, good.

Which is when it clicked for him—that Billy didn’t do chores and stuff because he liked the chores. But because… he liked Steve’s reaction?

And—that would explain his weirdness. Why he didn’t want to talk about it. Like maybe he was worried Steve would think Billy liked being his bitch or something—Steve winced, anticipating the whack from the Robin who lived in his head—not that Steve thought of him that way.

…Though if he didn’t mind Steve thinking of him that way—or even liked it, then…

Well, Steve didn’t—dislike that. Like the general concept. Held a certain—

Anyway, in the interest of further—ah, testing, Steve mentioned, casually, on his way to work one morning, “I’ve been craving that pasta salad you made.”

Billy cut him a glance over his coffee where he was hunched at the kitchen table. Grunted, and Steve quirked a grin, tossed him a salute goodbye. It wasn’t even a lie—the pasta thing—he’d been salivating at the memory. This version with Italian dressing instead of mayo, with olives and stuff.

Lo, late that afternoon, when he got back, there was a big Tupperware of it in the fridge. Billy wandered in halfway through his second helping. They paused, wide-eyed at the sudden charge buzzing in the air, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“It’s—good,” he managed, hands suddenly clammy around his fork and bowl. Billy was staring at Steve’s hands, held awkwardly aloft where he leaned on the counter. The stare was strangely heavy—hooded lids. Steve cleared his throat. “You—did good.”

Billy’s cheeks were as flushed as that day on the couch, watching basketball, insisting he liked—

Abruptly aware his boner was starting to tent his shorts, Steve turned to face the counter, ducking to shovel more pasta in his idiot mouth. Heard Billy go to the cabinet, fetch a glass. Fill it. Walk back out.

Heaving an unwinding breath, Steve set down the bowl, let his elbows bear the weight of this latest sexual awakening.

So that was a thing, apparently—and for Billy, too, potentially. Probably. Because, without quite meaning to, they fell into this little routine where, before Steve left for work, he’d pause, and Billy would look up from his coffee, and Steve would mention something—a rental movie he wanted to see, or a sale at the liquor store, or if Billy would mind throwing Steve’s whites in with his so he’d have a shirt to wear to this meeting later in the week…

And the VHS would be waiting on the counter. And a six-pack would be waiting in the fridge. And his shirt would be washed and ironed and waiting in his closet. And everytime Billy would be lingering nearby, not quite meeting his eyes, and Steve’s pulse would pound even though technically there was nothing sexy about an ironed shirt, and Steve would say Good. You did good.

Billy would sometimes clench his fist, when Steve said it. Or squirm in his seat a bit. Or swallow, throat bobbing. Color rising. And the sight hit Steve like a load of bricks. A load of bricks to the head.

It was the weirdest game of gay chicken—scrambling to find mundane tasks for Billy to complete for the prize of a pat on the back, when all Steve wanted, and he bet Billy felt similarly, was to order Billy to his knees.

He thought about it whenever they were on the couch watching TV, whenever they were eating in the kitchen or drinking on the balcony or passing each other outside the bathroom in the morning.

So he tested further. Came home and went to see if Billy had done it—and there he was, standing by Steve’s bed. The neatly made bed.

Steve’s heart was rabbiting out of his chest, too on the fritz to form words, and his feet weren’t much better, charting a crooked, clumsy course until they were toe to toe, Billy’s gaze downcast, his lips parted, breaths shallow.

He didn’t know whether it’d sound stupid if he said it out loud, what he’d been wanting to say for days—whether Billy wanted to hear, or would consider it a step too far.

They’d come this far, though. Steve wet his lips, took a calming breath, and Billy seemed to brace for it. “Good,” Steve said, and it came out breathy. “Good boy.”

Billy curled—did that thing where he ducked, hunching around something invisible—and the sound punched out of him, this pained gasp. Steve’s hands moved on their own, reaching to cradle Billy’s head, step close to whisper in his ear, his brow at Steve’s shoulder: “Good? Is this good?” Felt more than saw him nodding. “You want to be good for me?”

“Fuck,” Billy whispered—bit wheezing. Wet. “Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Steve asked, fumbling at his heated neck. “What do you—?”

“Be good.” It was mumbled, cringing. “Wanna be good.” A shaky inhale. “Make you feel good.”

Steve’s blood was roaring everywhere but his brain—would’ve fallen over if he weren’t clutching Billy. “Want that, too.”

He heard a thready laugh, and Billy straightened, leaning back into his hold, face tipped, lidded gaze on Steve’s chin. “So?”

So what’ll it be?

Buying himself time to gather his wits, some composure lest he combust, Steve tilted his head, assessing. Adjusting his hold, ran a thumb across Billy’s lower lip, firm enough to pull at the skin. “Want this.” Another swipe, exposing teeth, his curving tongue. “Make me feel good with this.”

A tug at his belt, and Billy was nodding, making short work of the button and zip—movements quick and precise. He sank, kneeling at Steve’s feet, tugging the pants to hang at midthigh, and finally looked up.

Steve swept blond curls off his forehead. “Like you like this.”

Billy stared, eyes gleaming. Seemed to be—waiting.

“So good like this,” Steve corrected. “Now show me how good.”

Swaying, Billy buried his face in Steve’s briefs, nosing him through straining cotton, and huffed hot air at the crown. Steve compulsively gripped fistfuls of hair, still using Billy’s ears as handlebars, and resolved not to let go—to let Billy show him.

And, boy, did he. Laved at his dick until the fabric was soaked, the white gone translucent—white gone flushed pink, twitching under kitten licks—and Steve was on the verge of begging when a pull at his waistband freed his cock, bobbing only a sec before swallowed in Billy’s grip, fed into his greedy mouth.

Steve’s entire vocabulary had been reduced to one word, babbled at the ceiling behind closed lids: good, good, good, only sometimes it came out guh, guh, guh. One hand cupped the back of Billy’s head, and it was when his hips were on a steady grinding roll that he realized he’d caged Billy against him, locked the gulping heat around his cock as he plugged toward the peak.

Billy wasn’t struggling, though—his fingers biting into the meat of Steve’s ass, moaning so deep in his chest that Steve felt it more than heard it.

Steve grappled for a new word—close, close—but Billy didn’t stop, didn’t let up a second, and when Steve grunted his release, the throat worked around him still.

The moment Billy pulled off, lungs heaving, face ruby red and shining, Steve flopped to his knees, blindly reached for Billy, draping loose arms around his neck, his ribs, waiting for his own breaths to slow.

“Was it,” Billy asked, tight. “Was it—?”

“Good,” Steve said, huffing a laugh, coasting hands across the bellows of his back. “So good—you’re so good. Always so good for me.”

Billy burrowed his face into Steve’s throat, his collarbone, looping him in an uncertain hug. He was hard, pressed against where Steve’s clothes gaped open. Working a hand between them, Steve rubbed his palm along rigid heat.

“What do you want?” he asked, nuzzling the nest of blond. “Since you been so good?”

A shudder ran up the sloping spine. Steve smoothed his free hand down to Billy’s waist and back up, waiting.

“I—cleaned the shower,” Billy said, halting. “I could—show you, and—?”

Steve kissed his temple, quick, so helplessly fond. Overwhelmed.

“Good boy wants a wash?” Steve suggested, and tightened his arms when Billy tried to do his pillbug thing. “Be my good boy,” he said, hushed, nosing Billy’s flushed ear. “You want to?”

And Billy curled again, only this time around him. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

Now with added sequel: Let's Give the Boy a Hand

#harringrove #harringrovekinktober2k23 #roommates in love #roommates in ill-defined dom subby dynamic #billy wants the praise #and the dick #steve gives it

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sapphic-agent · 19 days

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Why & How Katara is the Strongest Waterbender

The ATLA fandom is funny. Because if there's one member of the Gaang whose skills are continuously doubted, it's Katara's.

No one hesitates in saying that Toph is the strongest Earthbender in the world. Aang has always been maintained as a natural prodigy. Sokka's strategic intelligence and cleverness are never in question. Most people are positive that Zuko would have beaten Azula if she hadn't targeted Katara and hail him as a swords master.

But for some reason, it's always Katara whose proficiency is either called into question or severely downplayed.

Some are skeptical about the legitimacy of her becoming a master in a short time. Others are certain that her victories are due to plot manipulation. Both of these arguments that ATLA is a kids' show which pushed it into giving her the win.

(Funny how ATLA is the greatest piece of media ever read until it comes to anything pertaining Katara's character lmao)

So I wanted to take a minute to talk about the progression of her waterbending skills and how she became Master Katara.

Pre North Pole

The first time we really see Katara practice waterbending is in The Waterbending Scroll when she decides to show Aang her limited very skill set. She noticeably has a difficult time with her bending, whereas he seems to pick it up rather quickly.

As we know, Katara has never met another waterbender before. She has no idea what their bending is supposed to look or feel like. And that's reflected in the moves she shows Aang.

I want to draw attention to Katara's stance here. She's stiff, even a little awkward. She's standing where more like an Earthbender. We see this repeated when she's practicing the Water Whip.

Even later when she does perform the Water Whip correctly, there are still traces of this.

You know how Iroh learned to redirect lightning watching Waterbenders? Well, my assumption (at this point I'm 80% sure it's meant to canon) is that Katara learned most of her bending by watching Aang and the Earthbenders they met around the world.

It makes sense, right? They would have been the closest thing to Waterbenders she could have learned from. She even asked Aang to teach her in the first episode. So the start of her bending began with incorporating the forms of Air and Earth.

And we see the results of that in her fight with Pakku.

Fighting Pakku

Katara's fight with Pakku is a great demonstration of his visually. He's a master, so he's already proficient at "push and pull." Katara is not. She's done it before, but it's not her go-to style when she's fighting. And we can see it in this fight.

Again, her stance is firm. She either blocks his attacks or bats them away. She doesn't reinforce and redirect them like he does hers. She isn't fighting like a Waterbender, she's fighting like an Earthbender.

Not to say this is a bad thing. Pakku himself even admits that she's good even though they both know she can't beat him.

Why am I bringing this up? Because one thing about Katara that's overlooked is her adaptability. When she didn't have a waterbending teacher, she made do with observing Earthbenders. She picked up Pakku's teachings even better than Aang had. And going forward from here it really begins to shine in her bending.

She completely dominates Pakku's other students and Zuko (twice). Why? What makes her so special compared to men who have been training their whole lives?

Because water is the element of change. By being so proficient in adapting (not just in her bending, but openly embracing different things and experiences and people), Katara unknowingly embraced the mentality of her element.

(It's actually a funny twist of fate because you could make the point that the North held its other Waterbenders back by being so bound to and unflinching in their traditions. It would explain why none of Pakku's students even stood a chance against her)

If you think about it, you could draw parallel to Yue explaining the history of Waterbending to Katara to the Sun Warriors explaining fire as an element to Zuko. In both cases, you can see that they're able to see and understand their element in a new light. Although it's more of a realization moment for Katara as she already knew about pushing and pulling and it's more of a lesson for Zuko who was taught something completely different.

Katara vs Azula (Round 1)

You know how I said people attribute her wins due to plot manipulation because ATLA is a kids' show? Well it seems like Katara vs Azula is the scene they focus on the most for that.

But let's be real, this isn't a fluke. The show purposely draws attention to Katara prowess and skills during this fight.

Azula is someone who's always in control. She's someone who goes into fights with full confidence. But she is completely thrown off by Katara's abilities here.

And this is something that persists throughout the entire fight. Katara completely overpowers her. At no point during the fight did Azula have the upper hand against her.

And remember, this is Azula's fight. She's the one who imprisoned Katara and Zuko. She's the one who attacked Katara and Aang to begin with. Sure, she was probably counting on her manipulation of Zuko working and him backing her, but there was no guarantee that he would be able to get away from Aang long enough to help her.

And right after this, Aang really struggles against Azula. He doesn't own the fight nearly as well as Katara does.

So, we know it isn't a fluke. The creators intentionally made Katara outclass Azula here. She's canonically the superior bender between the two of them. And that's not a small feat by any means. Azula at this time is one of the best Firebenders alive, probably fourth (after Ozai, Iroh, and Jeong Jeong (she could possibly be above Jeong Jeong)).

So what was the reason for this? Why was Katara able to outclass Azula so effortlessly?

Well here's where Katara's mastery of the meaning of her element comes into play again. She understands and excels in the concept behind water. Always changing, always adapting. She embraces water to its fullest capabilities (which also includes incorporating other elements into it; water would actually be the best element to do this with). The entire fight, she's switching stances and forms and keeping Azula on the evade. Whatever Azula throws back is dealt with without an issue.

And as we know, Azula (and most Firebenders) misunderstand fire as an element. She uses it solely as a destructive force, but it's also energy, life, and passion. This is also part of the reason Zuko lost so easily in the Northern Water Tribe; he also had the same issue. Katara's proficiency in water as not just a weapon, but an element, gave her the advantage over Azula she needed.

Katara vs Hama

A debate that comes up a lot is who's the better bender between Katara and Amon. To that I have always said Amon was taught Bloodbending, Katara just did it.

Let me reiterate: NO ONE TAUGHT KATARA BLOODBENDING. Hama explained the concept to her, yes, but never actually taught her. In fact, she did not expect her to pick it up without guidance. In her own words, "You should've learned the technique before you turned against me."

This was a technique that took Hama decades to learn. Tarrlok and Noatak were trained relentlessly. And Katara just... Did it. No guidance and no build up. This supports that Katara's adaptability and versatility in her bending is unmatched. She's able to comprehend and perform advance concepts with no training or teaching.

Now that we got that out of the way, this fight is so comprable to Katara vs Pakku. This is the second time she's fought a master and we can see how much she's improved. So much so that she doesn't even struggle against Hama.

At this point, she's mastered "push and pull." She's able to take everything Hama throws at her and send it right back with little to no effort.

But she takes it a step further.

Instead of redirecting, Katara completely stops Hama's onslaught. This undoubtedly is something she picked up from Earthbenders. It certainly isn't a Waterbending technique, yet somehow she made it into an effective move.

Look at Hama's face. She's completely thrown off by this. This was not something she ever expected out of any Waterbender. She was completely unprepared for Katara to be able to outmatch and overpower her.

Katara completely surpassed her, solidified by using the technique she invented against her.

I was going to talk about Katara and Azula's second fight, but there isn't much to add there. I already compared the difference in their skills talking about the first fight, and the Agni Kai is an escalation of that. The outcome of the Agni Kai was already decided and confirmed in the catacombs.

And that my friends is how and why Katara is the best Waterbender in the world

#master katara #katara of the southern watertribe #katara analysis #give my girl her due respect #katara is the greatest waterbender in the world #no i won't be taking criticism #argue with the wall #katara deserved better

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nicoline1998enilocin · 5 months

Text

Flufftober Day 14 | My favorite piece of art

Pairing | Avenger!Best friend!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Best friend!Fem!Reader

Word count | ~ 780 words

Summary You've been trying to get Bucky to model for you for the longest time. When he finally agrees, you decide to go all out and make a beautiful painting of him to highlight everything you love about him. When he sees the end result, he can't help but joke about it, but deep inside, he's very moved and touched that you did this for him.

Warning(s) None.

A/n This one shot is written for day 14 of my Flufftober 2023 Challenge! I want to give my undying love, thanks, and firstborn child to @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading this on such short, SHORT notice. You're an angel, and I appreciate you more than you know. 🧡

Events Flufftober 2023 | 14. ''I hate it'' - ''No you don't'' | @flufftober

Banners: @vase-of-lilies | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF credit: the owner

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Drawing and painting have been your passion ever since you were a kid, and before you were on the path of becoming an Avenger, you were supposed to go to art school to live your dream.

Now, it is something you enjoy doing between missions in your downtime, and because of this, you have found a great friend in Steve. You two often chat about new supplies you got, or you give each other inspiration, and it's something you two have bonded over.

What you didn't expect, however, is that you would become the best of friends with Bucky. He was permanently closed off and didn't let anyone in besides Steve.

But when he joined the Avengers after you, you were constantly paired on missions together, and one thing led to another.

Right now, you are trying to convince your best friend to sit and model for a painting because you've been dying to put his beautiful features on a canvas.

''C'mon, it won't take long! Just one afternoon, and then it's finished. You would help me out if you did it! Pleeeeeaaaaaseeeee?' you said with the most prominent puppy eyes you can muster.

Bucky has always had a soft spot for you, and of course, the man can't say no to you. He's not made of stone, after all.

''Alright, but it'll stay between us! I don't want to see it anywhere other than your studio,'' he says with a sigh, and you pull him into a big hug while you squeal excitedly.

''Thank you, thank you, thank you!'' you say, excitement dripping from your voice. You quickly let him go to find Steve so you can tell him the good news.

A few days later, you're in your shared studio, which is basically at the top of the Avengers tower, which Tony gracefully lets you and Steve use for all your artsy needs.

Bucky sits on the couch, clad in black jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and boots. His Vibranium arm glistens beautifully in the sunlight as it falls right onto it, making it almost look glowing.

Between painting, you and Bucky talk about everything and nothing, and you keep looking at him to ensure every single line, feature, and shadow is laid down correctly.

All in all, it takes you about 5 hours, but you're thrilled with the result so far. But he's sitting too far away for you to get the details of his arm right.

''Bucky? Could you come and sit next to me for a little bit? I want to make sure I get everything correct,'' you say, and with a groan, he gets up, stretching out his muscles after sitting in the same position for so long.

You have gotten your gold paint out, and all you need to do now is replicate the intricate pattern laid out all over the Vibranium.

''Wow…'' he says softly as he sits on a chair next to you, deeply impressed with your work so far.

''All I need now is to replicate the golden pattern on your arm, and after you're all done!'' you say with a smile, but Bucky can't stop looking at himself on the canvas.

You captured every little detail of him and made him look angelic despite the dark colors you used for most of the painting.

''So? Can I see it?'' you say softly, and his head shoots to you before he finally realizes what you're asking of him. He extends his metal limb, and you look it over a few times before replicating it.

From every single line on his fingers to the more significant lines on his arm, nothing escapes your skilled eye, and with the precision you would expect from a trained assassin like yourself, you finish it.

''All done!'' you say with a big smile, and you turn to Bucky to see his reaction to the painting; he's trying to fight back a few tears because he is so moved by it.

''What do you think?'' you ask as you grab his Vibranium hand, rubbing his knuckles softly with your thumb. You're not sure if he can feel it, but you often like to do it just in case he can.

''I hate it!'' he jokes, a teasing laugh coming from his body.

''No, you don't!'' you tell him, and Bucky shakes his head. He couldn't hate it even if he wanted to. You have captured him perfectly; for a moment, he doesn't see his past.

He sees the man he has become after all his hard work; he sees himself through your eyes. He sees the man he has always wanted to be and couldn't be happier.

#flufftober 2023 #day 14 #MCU #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff

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rendy-a · 11 months

Text

Locked in with the Film Research Club

I had Vil on the mind from finishing my last fic when someone "liked" one of my Club Visit stories and...here we are! Sorry Ortho, but of course Vil steals the show here!

Sometimes, it strikes you at odd moments that Vil is famous, really famous. You'd been walking past the gym when you saw a student drop a heavy looking box and kick it. "Who does he think he is? Mr. Famous is too good to do the grunt work but can order us around like we work for him!" The student waking with him also drops his box and smiles, "Yeah, let's ditch and let our delicate princess figure this out himself." With that, they both laughingly depart.

You walked over, already having an idea in mind about what had happened. You pulled open the box to see a mixture of lighting and sound equipment. You give a small sigh, putting the picture together. Vil was a strict a leader in the Film Research Club as he was a Dorm Leader. Not everyone could deal with his...intense... style of encouragement and grew to envy and resent him.

You sighed but hefted the boxes anyway. You wouldn't exactly say that you and Vil were friends, but after the VDC, you were at least friendly. Plus, Ortho was always telling you about the things he'd done in club. You can't disappoint a fellow first-year! So, you trudge your way over to the alchemy school wing that you heard the Film club would be using for their shoot today.

When you arrived, you found Ortho setting up some complicated machinery to attach the camera to. You greet the cheerful boy and tell him about the boxes. "Vil Schoenheit has been looking for that equipment. He'll be so happy you've found it, Prefect! I'll go tell him right away!" You pat Ortho on the back, "That's OK. I've got lots of spare time and you seem busy here. I'll go tell him. Just point me in the right direction!"

You found Vil in a large storage closet near the Alchemy room, just as Ortho suggested he'd be. You swing the door open and approach Vil, who is leafing through a book near the back of the closet where a small amount of light shines through a tiny window. "Hey Vil, Ortho sent me," you began before Vil turns and shouts, "Perfect! Grab the door!" You jump at the shouting and hear an ominous click behind you.

Vil sighs, and you look at him guiltily, "Oops." It turns out that the supply closet near the Alchemy rooms locks automatically when closed due to the expensive ingredients and tools stored within. Plus, since some of the components have a chance of magical reaction if not stored correctly, the room was warded against magic. All of that added up to you and Vil being locked in the supply closet until someone came to find you.

Vil gave another sigh and returned to the book he was viewing. After a moment of looking around, you wandered over to join him. Plus... it's a closet; you really don't have a lot of choices here. You peek over and see it's a photo album. "Rook took them," Vil comments when he notices your interest. "I was in here picking up some special effects potions. Rook makes them in Science Club and leaves them in here until we need them. I guess he also stores some old photos here, too."

You leaned in to look. They were pictures from last year's Film Research Club. Some were productions, and others were candid shots from behind the scenes. A few you found confusing, but you imagined, if you asked Rook, he'd have a long explanation about why he'd photographed a scarf on a chair or a stack of paint canisters. By the end of Rooks flowing explanation, you'd probably believe the unusual subjects to be highly beautiful as well.

Vil turns the page, and the next image is his own, albeit a somewhat younger version. A frown graces his beautiful face, and he comments, "I'm sure he never intended for this to be seen, but I do hate pictures of myself being taken when I can't control them." You look at the photo of second-year Vil, "You look good, though." He looks at you sadly, "How naive you are, potato. You never know what sort of trouble a small photo can start. The tiniest detail that goes unnoticed by you can start a wild scandal."

Vil crosses his arms across his chest and looks at you with a frown, "And speaking of scandal, no good will come of the story of us being in this closet." You can easily imagine the gossip but assure Vil, "I'm sure it will be fine. No one is here but the club members, and we will just explain what happened. I'm sure they will understand!" Vil continues to look at you for a moment, and his expression slowly slides into one of amusement, "Potato, you are so refreshingly optimistic and naive."

You give a small laugh and smile, you know it to be true. Vil looks at you with a sort of fondness. It was so rare to find such a genuine person to interact with once you've become as famous as he. Suddenly, Vil's smile grows sharper and sly, "I, in the other hand, am not as foolish as you. If the peanut gallery is going to spread rumors about me..." You look on in amazement as his smile deepens and he slides close to you...

The closet door opens at last, and Ortho greets you, "Vil Schoenhit! Prefect! My sensors indicate that you have not left this room for thirty minutes. The club members grew worried, and we came to check on you!" You smile gratefully at the AI boy, "Thanks for the rescue, Ortho. I thought we'd be stuck in there all afternoon." Even as you smile at Ortho, you spot the envious duo from earlier. Just as Vil predicted, you can hear their gossiping whispers begin.

You hold your head high and push past them. After all, Vil was right. If people are going to talk about you kissing in the closet, then you might as well be kissing in the closet. You gently put your fingertips to your lips and smile, it wouldn't be a photo to add to Rook's album but you think it is definitely a beautiful memory of Film Research Club for you to hold on to.

#mini event #club visits #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twst x reader

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iamthat-iam · 7 months

Note

"In order for me to diminish a circumstance in the reality of my character, I must stop paying it attention and start paying attention to the things I feel like experiencing." what you reblogged from vesora. how to know the difference between ego ignoring/avoiding a circumstance and then daydreaming of a preferred circumstance with no change ocurring because ego can't change things, and then self not paying attention and instead paying attention to the circumstance that it wants to experience? also that means that i couldn't just say a circumstance isn't real for it to cease existing, i'd have to actively imagine something new by using mind of me/ego? "If I notice the character desires something, I do not try to fulfill her as that would be trying to fit a puzzle piece where it doesn’t belong. Instead, I start becoming aware of a person who has the things I wish to experience. Everything is at my disposal. I am at peace. I crave nothing, I fear nothing." i think vesora explains it here, but it sounds to me like LOA just in different words. if they talk about both on their blog, sorry, i haven't had time to check but that specific post was tagged with nd. also whenever things do change, i trace it back and it feels to me that ego's action (using thoughts, mental images, deciding something is) made the change, not something else. i then think that maybe i am using LOA, but if I were to think about ND, i made LOA up. it is a made up belief and practice. but also if i were to believe that i am consciousness and create everything, or in other words, have that assumption - i am practicing LOA. i know that in the end it doesn't actually matter - but thinking loops like that knock me out of things sometimes.

'how to know the difference between ego ignoring circumstances vs self not paying attention and being aware of something new'

The difference is expecting something out of focusing your awareness elsewhere. When you do it from ego, you're doing it with the intention to change what ego sees. So for example you do a visualization technique and then wait for something to happen after you're done. Doing it from Self is knowing you were never ego and the circumstances aren't yours. You're *being* this new person, focusing entirely on the present moment, not waiting for anything to happen because you are it, now.

'it sounds like LOA with different words'

In LOA you are fulfilling ego by reassuring it that it already has what it wants through techniques. In ND you're giving up the ego identity and merely choosing between different characters/experiences. That's why it's not the same.

If you want the circumstance to go away you can absolutely say it's not real. The situation will sort itself out on its own. You don't have to 'imagine' anything with the mind. I think what Sora meant you have the option of focusing on a specific scenario you felt like experiencing, rather than the circumstances. Its not required, taking your attention away from the problem and just not identifying with it is enough.

At the end of the day all concepts are made up, created by Self, so you are right in saying that LOA is a made up practice.

If I didn't interpret your post correctly @vesora feel free to correct me and clarify things for this anon!

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emperyans · 5 months

Note

Can I request a soulmate!AU with a Clark Kent x reader? Where your soul mates name is on your wrist?

Clark Kent.

It shows up sometime around your twelfth birthday. There’s no warning before it happens- you’re absentmindedly eating breakfast one day when you glance at your wrist and all of sudden it’s there, in neat, slanted writing.

You’re at a loss for how to react at first- hell, this is the name of your soulmate. A few minutes are spent staring in awe at the words on your wrist, before the shock falls away and you’re left feeling a little giddy- you finally know their name.

Every advice column ever written about the matter says not to obsess over it, but your pre-teen self can’t help but fixate on the markings whenever they come into your line of sight.

II.

Clark is not a very widespread first name, you discover. It always ranks around the four-hundred mark in popularity polls, both in North America and the UK.

Despite that, you run into a lot of them. Enough for you to begin to suspect that fate is playing a cruel game- really, how many Clarks can one person meet over the course of their lifetime?

To your dismay, you end up hating every single one of them. Thankfully, none of their last names even resemble Kent.

III.

Clark means scholar.

You wonder if he’s the academic type.

A lot of questioning is done on your part when you’re bored and have nothing better to do. Even more so when you're feeling lonely. Is he tall? What’s his favourite colour? Does he enjoy whole-wheat bread?

When you were a teenager, you had decided he was quite possibly going to be the most perfect person on earth. Your best friend at the time had laughed, telling you that no one was perfect.

You’re older, now. And while you no longer think Clark Kent, whoever he is, would be perfect, you still can’t stop yourself from picturing what he might be like after you have a bad day.

IV.

The first time you encounter it, you’re taking the subway home.

The newspaper is discarded on a scratched up subway seat. The headline is something about Lex Luthor - it always is in Metropolis- but that is not what catches your attention.

It’s under the headline, smudged to ruin by the previous reader's fingers. And yet still discernible enough to make your heart beat faster.

By Clark Kent.

Finding out how to contact the newspaper is easy enough. You cant figure out how to reach him, though, and you wonder what the point of modern technology is if you knew someone’s full name yet still had no way of reaching them.

When you call them, the receptionist tells you that Mr. Kent is out. Leave a message.

You give her a reasonably vague excuse to have him contact you, double checking that she has your name written down correctly. There’s a hint in her voice that tells you she suspects what is going on, but she doesn’t comment on it. You’re infinitely thankful.

VI.

By the time you leave work, there’s a missed call and a voicemail left on your phone. You wait until you get home to listen to it, and it’s a smart idea, because you didn’t know you could get this unreasonably anxious just by hearing someone say your name.

“This is Clark. Uh, Clark Kent. I hope- did I say your name right? Never mind- I was hoping we could meet up?”

He’s stumbling over his words and you can’t help but laugh- at least you’re not the only one completely overcome by nerves.

The voicemail ends with an address and a time to meet up (“ That is, if it’s okay with you-“ ) tomorrow.

You send a text confirming that you’ll be there.

VII.

You’re at the designated meeting place- one of Metropolis’ many parks. How they manage to put them in a city with such high density is beyond you- still, you weren’t here to question their urban planning prowess.

You swear you can feel him before you see him.

The first thing you notice is how tall he is. Very, very tall. He’s dressed in a dark grey suit- carrying a briefcase, clearly having just gotten done with work. It’s not what you imagined- yet somehow, it’s better than anything you’ve ever dreamt up.

He has glasses, you note. They have the effect of making him look impossibly endearing.

You’re not aware you’re gaping at him until he says your name.

“Nice to meet you, Clark.” It’s hard to keep the grin off your face. “You’re saying it right, by the way.” You stick your hand out for a handshake, making sure to angle it so the words on your wrist are visible.

He takes it, a smile playing at his lips. Warmth envelops your hand immediately. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #dc imagine #[ writings ]

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gretavangroupie · 11 months

Text

Vigilance (Chapter 10)

Word count: 22.6k

Pairings: Sam x Reader, Jake x OC

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, smoking, language, fluff, angst, smut.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. Please go show her some love!

STRANGE HORIZONS:NASHVILLE

ONE DAY BEFORE SHOW

JAKE POV

This is how it always was the day before tour. Josh barking orders at everyone, Sam waiting until the last second to do everything that should have been done weeks ago, Daniel trying to satisfy Josh’s requests, and you, sitting back watching all of it unfold from the comfort of the broken-in leather couch. The office was buzzing with crew and staff working to make sure everything was packed away correctly and not a thing was left behind. Old friends reuniting, anxious for another leg of tour to begin.

Tensions were high, as they so usually were before you left for a show. Packing up an entire band was no small task, and you weren’t sure why they always waited until the day before to do it. You were especially wound up today, still reeling from the events over the last few days. You still hadn’t made amends with Sam, but you knew you would today. You had to. You couldn’t start tour off on a bad note, right?

You watched until you noticed his tasks being steadily checked off the list one by one, and when he found himself ready to take a break, you knew you had your chance. You grabbed two beers from the cooler and walked back over to meet him on the couch. You extended the bottle out to him, and his eyes met yours as he took it. It’s a start.

You sat down next to him, twisting the lid off of the bottle as you relaxed into the seat. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes Sammy boy?” you asked, hoping that using his nickname would help soften the mood he was in.

“Looks like you already are…” he replied with a gentle smirk.

You took a pull from the lip of the bottle, letting the cold liquid calm your nerves.

“Sam… I’m…really sorry about everything I said the other day. I was completely out of line to say those things to you. I’m not trying to make excuses here, I know I fucked up, but after everything with Sophia, I just… unleashed on you. I didn’t mean it. I really am sorry. I get it if you need more time, I just… I’ve been thinking about you the past couple of days and I just want you to know I love you. I don’t think you’re a fuck up. I’m really proud of you. For everything. Really.” you rambled nervously.

He took a sip of his beer, trying to conceal the smile on his lips as he replied, “I missed you too. You had a couple low blows in there, but it's all in the name of brotherhood right? Also, I love you too.” he laughs, placing a forceful hand on your shoulder. “Phew, glad we got our yearly I love you out of the way, huh? Early this year…” he jokes.

There he is. There's your Sammy.

You held your beer up, clicking the glass bottle with his, “Until next year…” you toast. He laughs and looks over to Daniel, wrapping up some cording with velcro.

“You’re right, you know,” he adds.

“About?” you ask.

“Her. You know, if she was… with me and everything. It would have been the biggest fuck up ever. Monumental.” he said, turning to look at you. “The first time we ever slept together we talked right before…made sure this wasn’t going to turn into something else, because neither of us wanted that. I think really, we just wanted to feel close to each other again. Both of us made it very clear that there weren’t any feelings involved. It was just purely sex with someone we loved and trusted. No feelings involved. That’s all it ever was, Jake. I haven't had feelings like that for her in years. Is she gorgeous? Of course. Have I always wanted to sleep with her? Well, yeah. But I’d never steal your girl Jake... I’ve always known who her heart belongs to.” he says.

You swallow harshly, really taking in everything he’s saying. “It’s just… hard to watch, you know?” you ask.

“I know. But it’s not something I thought we should keep from you. I feel like that would have only made it worse when you did find out.” he replies. “Also… I’m really sorry about Sophia… I can’t believe she was doing that. I can’t believe we saw her. You should have seen Y/N when she spotted her in the restaurant. She was hysteric for a second.”

“I would’ve been, too. Things had been a little rocky between us the past few weeks. She was acting different…And you know what? I’m happy to be free of her, feel like I can breathe again.” you say, swigging your beer.

“I guess I’m just sorry everything played out the way it did. We just felt like you needed to know, and we wanted to tell you in person. I didn’t expect it to be such a disaster.” he says.

“It’s partially my fault, as soon as she started in on you I should have told her to leave. I am so embarrassed at the things she said to you. To Y/N. I wasn’t sure she was ever going to talk to me again. I wouldn’t blame her.” you sigh.

“You know she… she listened. Finally.” he said.

What?

“What do you mean? Listened to what?” you asked.

“Our music… did she not tell you?” he asked.

“No, tell me what?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Up until about a week ago, she had never listened to any of our recorded music. The last thing she ever heard from us was the Black Smoke EP.” he said.

Shock coursed through your body. “What? Why?”

Had she really never heard? Every song you wrote for her, fell upon ears that wouldn’t understand. The lyrics you wrote to her, begging her to come back to you… she never heard them?

“Well, to put it simply, she couldn’t handle it. Emotionally, mentally… Think about it Jake. Would you want to listen to your ex play love songs about you?” he asked.

“No, but… not one song? Not a single song, in the past what, three, four years?” you asked, trying to wrap your head around it.

“She said she heard Safari Song in the grocery store once, but she turned around and walked out because it struck a nerve she wasn’t ready to tend to yet.” he said.

“So… she listened though… last week? Why now?” you asked.

“She said her boss assigned it to her, since we are under UMG. She listened to everything…she came over to my house after.” he stopped.

“Was she….” you started.

“Was she okay? No…She was a wreck Jake. I think you know that. Practically inconsolable for a while. She had a feeling about one in particular… but she couldn’t even ask.” he said, eyes cast down to the floor as he replayed the memory.

“So…she listened…to it...” you asked.

His eyes flicked up to yours, “Yeah. She did. About killed her I think. She wanted to know… if it was about her.” he paused, pushing his hands through his hair. “How sad is that, Jake? For her to even think for a second that it wasn’t. I told her of course it was about her. I told her they all were. I think she wanted to crawl into a hole and die right there.”

“How could she think they were about anyone else?” you whispered.

“She was pretty bad off there for a while, but I got her through it. Me and a bottle of wine, well almost two. She’s proud of us though, man. She loved it, I could tell she loved it. It spoke to her, just like we always wanted. We actually did it.” he said with a smile. “I wanted to cry, I was just so relieved she liked it...It felt– felt like it was all worth it. All those years… I missed her a lot. I know it was different for you, but you know, she was my best friend. I needed her too.” he says.

You were so busy feeling sorry for yourself back then that you never really stopped to consider that Sam lost his best friend. You were so cruel to him, to everyone really. Just a miserable person for a while. If you had known then what you know now….

“Anyways, you should talk to her about it someday. If you can. I know it's still touchy for you.” he adds.

“I will one day Sam. I’ll make it count. Thank you…for… talking to her about it. I know it probably wasn’t easy for you either.” you smiled.

“Anything for you brother,” he replied.

You both finished off your beers as you scrolled through your phones, waiting for Josh to finish up on his tirade about organization.

“Hey, she will be here in about 10 minutes, so make sure you have your shit done!” Josh called out through the office, everyone agreeing and finishing up their tasks.

“Who?” Danny asked.

“The tour coordinator… someone new this time, I think you’ll like her.” he replied with a smirk.

Fuck. She’s coming? Today? You were not prepared to see her until you absolutely had to, tomorrow.

“You good? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Sam joked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Hey I saw this the other day at a vintage shop, thought of you. Thought you might like it.” you say, opening your camera roll. You scroll through your pictures from that day, trying to find the one you took to show him. An old 60’s Sunburst Fender Acoustic. It had his name written all over it.

“Hey woah, what was that?” he says, swiping out of your photo.

“What?” you say, pulling your phone away from him.

“I swear I just…” he said, reaching over your arms, tapping on the photo of Y/N you received the other night.

“Oh my god. It is her.” he says, shocked. “How do you have that?”

You close out of it before anyone else sees, “Will you shut the hell up before one of them comes over here asking questions.”

“Sorry. But seriously… Why do you have that? Did you hack into my phone?” he asks.

“Hack into your phone? What? No? She… sent it to me. The other night. Completely unprompted.” you answer quietly, a smirk on your face.

“She sent it to you?” he asks, shock written across his face.

“Yes, Sam… for the second time. She sent it to me.” you reply.

“Well that’s interesting because she sent it to me, too.” he said matter-of-factly.

“The same one?” you asked.

“Exact same. We were…talking… it was the natural progression of the conversation but it came late…I thought she fell asleep.” he said. “Wait…what time did she send that to you?”

“Uh….” you said opening your text threads, and checking the time stamp. “10:46pm” you answered.

He dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone and opening his texts, his eyes widening as he reached the photo. “Oh my god. I think…I think she sent it to you instead of me, by accident. Mine didn’t come until 11:26.” he said. “She must have panicked when she realized and sent it to me when she figured it out. Wait, what time did you text her back?”

“11:24…”

Panic sweeps through your body as you realize what he is saying. Were they…sexting? Was that really meant for him? A chill sweeps through your body as you put the pieces together. It would explain the situation. It was completely unprompted, and her not answering your reply suddenly started to make sense.

“Well, Sam… Here I was thinking she…No, nevermind. I suppose that explains why she didn’t reply.” you sigh.

“Oh god, she didn’t reply?” he asked.

“No, but she read it. Stayed up late just in case too…Stupid.” you said, shaking your head.

“Has she spoken to you since?” he asked.

“We don’t exactly talk Sam…” you replied.

“Oh it was totally an accident. I bet she is—wow. I will have to ask her about it.” he says.

“No the fuck you will not. Let it go Sam, I am so serious.” you threatened.

“Okay, sheesh…” he says, pulling away from your grip on his arm. “It is a hot pic though isn’t it?” he jokes.

“Shut the fuck up Sam, I will end your life right here.” you say through gritted teeth.

He laughs as you hear the beep of the security system, as someone opens the front door. You both turned to look at the door, and saw her walking in, looking stunning as ever.

“Oh my god, it’s like she heard us talking about her…What is she doing here?” he asks.

Does he not know?

Her eyes meet yours only for a second before quickly looking away. Okay so she is feeling some type of nervousness about being here.

Josh rushes over to greet her, thanking her for coming in at the last minute.

“Hey!” he yells, getting everyone's attention. “I know some of us know each other, but for those of you who don’t this is Y/N. She works with Collective and is going to be our coordinator and liaison for this tour. She’s gonna be on the road with us for a bit. She’s an absolute star and I know you all will love her so make sure you welcome her with open arms and show her how we do things around here!” he says, smiling.

You watch as Sam and Danny shoot looks towards each other, then to Josh as they comprehend what he’s said.

“That being said, I will turn it over to you, I’m sure you have things to tell us to get this party started.” he smiles at her.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that came from your chest as you watched Josh so happily introduce her. She was beaming. You had to admit, even though part of you wanted to kill Josh for this arrangement, you couldn’t wait to watch her do her thing, but more importantly you couldn’t wait for her to watch you do yours.

She began to pass out paperwork to everyone, her eyes flicking to yours for a millisecond as she handed you your paper, before turning her attention back to the rest of the room.

You could see something behind her eyes. You couldn’t place it, but you knew it. You’d seen it before.

“Hi everyone! I am really looking forward to working with all of you over the next few months, but before we go over everything I just want you all to know that if you ever have any questions or concerns, or even a request you can ask me, call me, text me… whatever is easiest for you. I will help you the best way that I can.” she says, directing her attention to the group of roadies huddled by the door.

��The paper I just gave to all of you outlines the accommodations for the Nashville show starting tomorrow. Your transportation, lodging and meal information should all be on there, specific to each one of you. Again, if you have any questions you can come to me.” she says with a smile.

The chattering in the background irks you. Are they even listening to her?

She continues to talk about the schedule for tomorrow, everything laid out right there on paper. As she makes her way through each bullet point you hear the crew still talking behind you.

“Hey boys, let’s listen up.” you say shooting them a stern look.

They quiet down immediately, returning their focus back to her. Her eyes flash over to yours, in a silent thank you. You nod your head ever so slightly.

You listen intently as she talks about the venue set up, soundcheck, and the time tables that will need to be followed, your eyes never leaving her for a second. To be honest you heard every word she said but your mind was elsewhere. Back in Michigan, swimming and laughing.

Everyone thanking her snapped you from your daydream. Suddenly people were approaching her, meeting her and introducing themselves. She handled the crew and staff like she had done it a thousand times before. Maybe she had?

“You gonna talk to her, or are you just gonna stare at her?” Sam asks.

You blow a breath out, leaning back into the couch, “I don’t know… I don’t know what I’d say. Just gonna give her some time. If she wants to talk to me, she will.” you reply.

“I cannot believe she is our coordinator.” He says, shaking his head.

“You’ve met Josh right? Meddling son of a bitch.” you laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right.” he laughs. “You pack yet?”

“Fuck no. Gonna do it when we’re done here.” you answer, standing up from the couch.

“Oh my god. We get to play for her.” he says, eyes wide with realization.

“Samuel, I am begging you to not say every thought that goes through your head.” you say with a sigh.

He smirks, walking off to meet her side.

Fuck. Not only will this be your first tour in a few years, but now she will be there watching?

You hadn’t fully considered that yet. You weren’t sure you were ready to think about it. You pushed the thought from your mind as you made your way over to Josh.

“I still can’t believe you did this…” you say with a fake smile.

“Everything is going to be fine. Great even. Watch and see.” he smirks.

“We done here?” you ask.

“I think so, what time do we have to be here in the morning?” he asks.

You pull the folded paper from your back pocket, reading out the travel details, “Says the van will pick us up here at 7:00 am. So… should we just meet at my place and ride over here together? Or Sam’s?” you ask.

“Let’s do yours.” he answers.

“You gonna be on time?” you laugh.

“Of course not.” he laughs, walking away, holding his thumb and pinky up to his ear, indicating he would call you later.

You shook your head, walking over to Danny, telling him the plans, before you started to make your way out. You clapped him on the back as you stepped away, “Tell Sam, alright?”

He nods his head as you turn to make your way to the door.

You scan the room one last time, eyes catching hers for a brief moment before you slipped out into the humid evening.

—

Your suitcase sat packed by the front door ready to go, after sitting for months in the closet practically untouched. Usually you looked forward to tour, the swirling of anxious energy in your stomach just before you left. The bright vibrant energy filling your body just before you took the stage. Playing live in front of a crowd was what kept you going. Recharging your battery each night as you watched them react to the music that flowed from your fingertips. You craved it. You needed it. But tonight you didn’t have that feeling. You were nervous. Jittery. Anxious.

You sipped the remnants from the glass in your hand trying to calm those nerves. A lowball glass filled with scotch was sure to do the trick, as you sat back and watched the rain hit the windows in your study. The wet drops rolling down to collect on the sill in large puddles. You placed the now empty glass on the table, grabbing your guitar from the stand as you strummed the old worn in strings. You let your mind drift off as you played, trying to process everything that happened today.

An accident. A mistake. How foolish of you to believe that that photo was meant for you. Of course it was for Sam. She’d never sent you anything like that before... Why would she start now?

And how stupid of you to reply. You should have known it wasn’t meant for you when she didn’t reply. You stayed up all night waiting for it…There was a reason it never came. As if things weren't awkward enough after the fight with Sam… this just made it worse.

Now you had to spend the next several weeks with her, pretending that it never happened and acting like you don’t remember every detail of the picture... The image of her body burned into your brain.

Was she as embarrassed as you were? You would be working with her in extremely close quarters for weeks…You really didn’t want things to be awkward… Should you talk to her about it?

No. Just let it go... It will pass, right?

Finally feeling the alcohol settling into your bloodstream, you began to relax. You placed the guitar back on the stand, and made your way to your bedroom. It was late, and you knew you had to be up in a few hours to get ready to go. You pulled your shirt over your head, and kicked your pants to the floor, before crawling into the comfort of your own bed for the last time for the next few weeks. You never did sleep so well in a bed that wasn’t your own.

You set your alarm, and placed your phone on the nightstand, flicking the switch on your lamp, leaving the room completely dark. You let a sigh leave your chest as you relaxed into your pillows, drifting off to sleep quickly with the help of the scotch and the patter of rain on the windows.

—

NIGHT ONE

HER POV

You were already awake when your alarm went off promptly at 6:00 am, your nerves keeping you only half-asleep all night. The first day of tour. You were excited, but the anxiousness was creeping into your bones and making itself at home. You’d gone over the itinerary a hundred times before bed, and a hundred more times while you tried to fall asleep. Meeting times, rider copies, map locations, hotel confirmations…your brain felt fried already, and you hadn’t even left yet. You were thankful Allison had given you everything you needed to have accomplished on a nice organized checklist, making your life a bit easier.

You drug yourself from your bed and into your bathroom to take a quick shower. You’d already picked out your outfit for the day, some dark wash jeans and a simple top. Cute but professional. You’d be meeting everyone at the office to load the van in exactly one hour.

While you rushed around your home chugging coffee and gathering essentials, you thought about Jake, and how his eyes had met yours for the briefest of moments yesterday. You were still so embarrassed and ashamed, but you had to keep on a happy face for the sake of your job. This was no time to let your emotions show through. You had a lot to accomplish, and proving yourself was at the top of your list.

—

You arrived at the office with fifteen minutes to spare, giving you ample time to run over everything again. You grabbed all your things from your trunk, and packed them into the crew van before you checked in with the driver. You brought out your iPad checklist and made yourself a few notes and reminders. Cars began to fill up the lot and roadies and crew members began to unload their things. No one had presented you with questions yet, thank goodness. Deep breaths, all is well so far. You checked the time, 6:55. Perfect.

After a quick headcount of everyone riding in the van, you finally began to feel a bit more at ease. Thankfully, Allison had given you the tip to always lock in early hotel check-ins. ‘They’re always late for everything...leave yourselves time to spare.’ Fortunately, you’d known that fact since you were kids.

You finally saw Jake’s car pulling into the lot a whopping fifteen minutes late. All four of them piling out of the vehicle to unload their bags. 7:15... Not too shabby. They walked over to the vans with sleep still in their eyes, except Josh, of course. He was always a morning person. He took you in an immediate embrace, placing his positive and comforting energy directly onto your skin. How did he always know exactly when to do that?

“First day, big day! You ready?” He asked in your ear, not letting you go until you answered. He smelled like patchouli with a hint of hibiscus and vanilla. You took a second to breathe, letting his familiar scent calm your nerves.

“I think so, Joshy. I hope.” He released you after a big squeeze, his long curls flowing in the early morning breeze. He gave you a reassuring smile. “Killing it already, hot stuff.”

You did notice Jake seemed a bit more chipper than he usually was at this hour. He didn’t have his normal dark circles and sullen face…instead he looked bright-eyed and anxious. The rest of the guys made their way over to you. Sam brought his hand to his brow, playfully saluting.

“Samuel Francis Kiszka, bass and keys, reporting for duty. My name should be first on the list in the VIP section. I’m actually in the band.” He glanced and pointed to your iPad, typing his fingers erratically causing your screen to go wild.

“Stop it Sam, geez!” You laughed. “Get in the van.”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a wink.

“Morning sunshine, ready to kick ass today?” Danny said through a warm smile, showing all his teeth.

“Let’s hope so,” you returned his sweet smile.

“You got it, no question.” He reassured you.

Lastly came Jake. He brought his eyes to meet yours, and you felt every nerve ending explode with embarrassment all over again. He gave you a curt half-smile and nodded his head, climbing into the van without a word. His cheeks had pinkened a little, and you were sure yours had done the same. Awkward. So awkward.

After everyone was loaded up and accounted for, you made sure no one had any questions, and you climbed into the front seat of the crew van. You felt an overwhelming sense of nervousness and relief at the same time. You’d attack this day step by step. These guys were all professionals and had done this song and dance a million times. It was their world, and you were just orchestrating it.

——

Checking into the hotel proved to be a simpler task than you anticipated, getting everyone their key cards and on their way to their rooms going very smoothly. You knew that you had to get them to the venue for sound check as quickly as possible so once you figured they had enough time to settle, you sent a group text asking them to meet you in the lobby. It was a very short ride to the venue, and you were excited to be behind the scenes and have access to everything that happened backstage.

You watched as everything was unloaded from the trucks and brought inside the amphitheater. It was amazing to watch the crew work like a well-oiled machine quickly putting up the stage and equipment in record speed. Though this was the first show back in a while, they all worked well as a team setting up the new stage equipment just like the guys envisioned.

You were rushing around like a crazy person, answering phone calls, replying to tons of texts, checking to make sure the riders were fulfilled, and trying to keep Allison updated with everything. So far, so good. Eight hours until openers.

“Guys, the stage is set. You wanna come see?” You asked the four of them as they gathered around a makeshift coffee table full of lunch items. Their eyes lit up, ready to see the stage they’d dreamt of for months finally brought to life.

You led them around the small corridors of the beautiful outdoor venue, and into the pit area. They erupted in astounded cheers seeing it all put together. You grabbed your walkie-talkie and radioed to the light booth. “Randy, can we hit the lights?” You asked. A few seconds later, a voice came over the radio. “Sure thing.” The main spot lights came on and illuminated the stage in a beautiful and clean white light, showing off the lighted platforms and spires that lined the backdrop. They fell into ‘ooo’s’ and ‘ahh’s’ in unison as they took it all in.

“Holy shit, it’s perfect!” Josh proclaimed.

“Yeah guys, yes!” Sam yelled to the crew. They all clapped and cheered, and ran onto the stage to begin checking their sound. Relief. You knew it would be even more perfect once it got dark outside.

You took a second to run backstage and collect yourself, use the restroom, and grab something to eat as you knew the rest of the day was going to be even more chaotic. You checked in with craft services to see that everything was refilled for the crew, now that they were done with their part. You relaxed on a couch for a free second, ignoring your buzzing phone and nagging notifications. You could hear the low droning sound of their instruments coming together, as they jumped into a song you didn’t quite recognize off the bat. It still sounded beautiful and haunting even from this far away. You closed your eyes and took in the moment, feeling pride overtake your mind as you listened to your best friends fulfill their dream. After a few grounding moments, you decided to check your phone and emails again.

An hour or so passed, and you noticed the music had stopped. You stood up to stretch and checked the time, not realizing how long you’d been lost in your phone. You began to meander around the backstage area again, when you were caught by a pair of familiar hands pulling you behind a trailer, out of sight.

“Samuel, what are you doing!” You whispered loudly.

“Nothing, just wanted to say hello properly. I haven’t gotten to tell you how good you look taking care of all of us like this.” He pinned your back to the trailer, and glanced around, checking that the coast was clear. Then he brought his lips to your neck, lightly kissing and nudging you.

“I love watching you in your element...it’s very attractive.” he whispered in your ear between pecks.

“Sam…be careful...there’s people everyw-” he cut you off, placing his lips on yours.

“Shhh...there’s no one around. Trust me. Do you trust me?” He glanced around again.

You nodded, reluctantly. You felt very out of place, letting him do this in such a manner in broad daylight, but god, his lips on your neck and his hands pinning you down was driving you wild. He had a knack for melting you into a puddle, that was for sure.

He immediately licked into your mouth, hot and sweet with just the tiniest taste of tequila on his lips. He brought his leg up to spread your knees apart, positioning himself so your core rested on his upper thigh. He pressed his body into you, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you, even from the slightest contact. You kissed him back hard, just now realizing how starved you’ve been for him without even noticing it. Your mind had been elsewhere lately.

“That photo you sent the other night...I can’t get it off my mind. You looked so sexy...God I wanted you so bad...” he trailed off, pressing harder against you. “You want me to send you something?”

You nodded again. “Mhmm...yes please.” you said into his mouth, biting his lip.

“I’ll see what I can come up with...” he said, pulling away. He began to back off, adjusting himself in his pants. He glanced around again, making sure the coast was still clear. “Silence my notifications, and change my name in your phone.” He said with a wink, and he was gone.

What? Change his name? Why? Did he know about the photo accident?

—

You headed back around to the main gathering area backstage after collecting yourself for a few minutes. Hot and bothered was an understatement.

“Y/N! Hey, I’d like you to meet someone.” Josh said as you entered the trailer. “This is Summer. She’s going to be our photographer!”

“Oh my god, hey! It’s so nice to meet you finally! I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet before, things have been chaotic.” You reached out to shake her hand. Summer was gorgeous. Tan, slender, and blonde with cute features and the prettiest blue eyes that hid behind thin wire glasses. She had a bright and friendly smile as she returned your handshake.

“Hey! So nice to meet you! I’m so excited to be here.” she said.

“I’ll leave you two to chat.” Josh said, taking off in the other direction.

“Let me show you around?” You asked, walking towards the stage.

“Yes, let’s go!” She grabbed her camera bag and you were off. You showed her around the venue and made sure she had her all access media and crew pass.

“The guys will want you to be around basically all the time, backstage and all. They’re really easy to get along with, which I’m sure you noticed meeting Josh.” You said.

“Yes, actually! He introduced me to the band. Everyone seems really nice! This is my third time going on a tour with a band, so I’m really starting to get my footing I think. I’m really excited to work with you guys!” She admitted.

“Well, they picked you for a reason. I saw some of your work, it’s fantastic. You’ll do just fine.” You reassured her with a smile, which she returned. You walked her around the grounds a bit more, showing her the areas you’d be occupying most and introducing her to people here and there. By the time you made it back, she had told you her life story in its entirety and you were already beginning to tune out the sound of her voice. She was sweet, but…

“So, this might sound forward but, are all of them…single?” She asked without an ounce of shyness in her voice. It took you by surprise.

“Umm, well… Sort of. Danny has a girlfriend but, the rest, yeah. Basically. I try not to keep up with their personal lives too much.”

Lie.

“Cool okay. I just didn’t want to, you know… Be weird about anything. Spending all this time together and all.” She replied, talking with her hands.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, no I get that. For sure.”

“But, the quieter one with sunglasses, he plays guitar I think?” She rambled.

“Jake.” You said stoically.

“Yeah, Jake. He is fine. Made my heart skip a beat when he shook my hand. You know what I mean? I’ve always liked the brooding ones. The type you’d climb like a tre-”

“Summer. I get it... But remember you’re here to take photos and that’s it. Okay?” You felt yourself get an attitude at her lack of professionalism this early in the game. It had only been half an hour and you were already starting to be irked by her presence.

“Jake is very professional and likes to keep himself focused. He doesn’t allow himself much time for things like that.” you add, hoping she would take the hint.

Saved by the bell, your walkie talkie beeped with a request for you to go to the stage. “I’ve gotta go, good luck tonight!” You waved to Summer and left before she could get another nerve-grinding word out.

You approached the stage and were motioned back to the sound booth technician.

“Hey! We need our copies of the setlists! Almost forgot.” The woman laughed.

“Yes! I have them on my hard drive. I will bring them right to you.” You replied, rushing off to backstage, mad at yourself for forgetting to do that before you left the office. Luckily you had a portable printer installed in the crew trailer.

You printed off ten copies of the list, and read through it on your way back to the sound booth.

Wow, it was so strange seeing the names of all these songs that you’d just now become familiar with, the songs that were basically their children. You knew they were playing a few of these live for the first time tonight, and a whole new wave of nerves hit you like a freight train. You were so excited for them. So excited for their fans.

A few more hours passed, and you’d decided to join the guys for a little chat before things got hectic. They were all hanging around outside, warming up on acoustics and pre-gaming with seltzers and shots. They were all beaming with nerves, Josh and Sam hopping around expelling their pent-up agitation while Danny drummed on anything he could find. Jake sat comfortably in a lounge chair, feet up, strumming a quiet tune and watching his brothers in their natural states. He was so…attractive.

“Josh, why are you dressed already? You’re going to spill something on your suit!” You said, surprised. His outfit for tonight was a white jumpsuit with blue and green applique feathers, and it fit him like a glove. Tiny rhinestones caught the light as he jumped around, causing him to sparkle in the afternoon sun.

“Oh, love. I always do this. Sorry, but I get ready way too early. It’s just a…thing I do.” He threw his hands up, unable to elaborate any more. “But I make it a point to only drink clear liquids! I promise.”

You nodded nervously, wanting to cover him up with a jacket, a bib…something.

You peeked around to the front of the venue, seeing that hoards of people had started to gather at the gates. You checked your phone.

Allison 5:55pm: Almost time to get them dressed! Hope all is going well!

You 5:59pm: All is great! Thanks!

You took another few minutes, shooting texts to the other coordinators and radioing to check in with security. You couldn’t believe you’d gotten this far in the day without any major hiccups, and you were thankful. Maybe you could do this… You were doing this.

You glanced toward Jake, who was sitting naturally still strumming along and sipping something from a paper cup. You covertly watched as Summer made her way over to sit beside him, giving him all of her attention as she snapped a few photos, while likely telling him a story about something he cared nothing about. Just from the short time you spent with her, you knew she was going to be a great photographer, but inevitably get on everyone’s nerves.

Get away from him, he doesn’t want to talk to you. He’s trying to get in his zone.

But to your surprise, you watched as he tilted his head back and laughed a hearty laugh, scrunching his nose up and giggling at whatever she was saying. She laughed too, leaning into him and quickly putting her hand to his thigh.

Oh really?

You scoffed under your breath and crossed your arms. She then pointed to his guitar, and began to ask him questions. It looked like he was explaining the guitar parts to her, while she watched him intently, all the while moving closer and closer to him, touching him any chance she got.

Doesn’t she have photos to take or something?

Suddenly, Sam was in front of your face, “Hey. You gonna nip that in the bud, or should I?” he asked motioning back to Summer and Jake with a head tilt. It shook you from the raging fire of jealousy growing in your chest.

You stood up quickly, clapping your hands together, “Alright guys, time to get dressed!” You announced, and they all began to excitedly make their way toward the trailer. You saw Summer look back toward you as Jake exited her bubble.

“You can sit this part out, Summer.” You said.

“And you get to watch them get changed? Lucky girl…” she said with a smirk.

You decided to not respond to that, and climbed the steps to the front door, closing it hard behind you.

—

After a few minutes, they were all dressed and ready to go...7:45 on the dot. Their openers had already begun their sets, filling the arena with sound. You stood in the trailer, and watched their stylist stand back and admire the art of the designer. Their outfits truly were a sight, all custom made to fit their visions.

The crew exited the trailer, leaving just you and the guys. Sam immediately felt comfortable enough to bring you in for a giant hug. “Errghhhh you did so great today! How are you feeling? Ready for the grand finale?”

You hugged him back, finally feeling alone enough with them to be your true self, “Yes, my job’s almost over. It’s your turn now.” You responded with a giggle.

Just then, Danny and Josh came and joined the hug, sticking you in the middle as they piled around one another. You glanced over and saw Jake standing off to the side, obviously feeling awkward about joining. You bravely raised your finger to him, motioning for him to join in. He wrapped his arms around his brothers as they all rested their heads on one another, taking a second to relish in the moment.

“My brothers, are we ready to rock and roll?” Josh asked.

“Never been more ready…” Danny agreed. They all spoke in little sentences of excitement and reassurance, patting each other on the backs and shaking off nerves. Never once letting their heads separate from touching in their circle, with you still directly in the middle. You stood awkwardly, but happy to be included in their embrace.

“Six brand new songs tonight, fellas. Do we have it?” Josh asked.

“Yeah we have it, do you have it?” Jake responded. You giggled.

“Yeah I fuckin’ have it as long as you keep me where I need to be.” Josh relayed.

“As long as these two assholes keep me where I need to be…” Jake went on.

“Don’t we always? Daniel and I are perfect...” Sam spat.

“Sounds like a plan, then. Let’s go do it.” Josh said.

Suddenly they hugged one another tighter, smashing their heads into yours and bringing your face impossibly close to Jake’s. You felt heat immediately rush to your face as his eyes flitted to yours, and locked there. He offered you the tiniest of smiles before he spoke.

“Love you guys?” He asked.

“Love you guys.” They all responded in unison. Then they all separated, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, drowning in emotional surprise.

“What was that? What was I just part of? Do you do that before every show?” You asked.

“Only since 2012, love.” Sam said, shooting you another wink as he descended the stairs, his baby blue suit hugging every curve. You felt a swell of admiration creep into your chest. You had gotten to be a part of their pre-show ritual.

You waited by the door for the guys to file out one by one, Jake stopping beside you at the very end. You noticed the collar of his beautifully embroidered navy blue suit was flipped up, and you instinctively reached to fix it. Your fingers accidentally brushing his neck in the process, sending an immediate and visible chill through him. You swallowed hard as you pulled your hand away from his collar.

“How do I look?” He asked in a low and gravelly voice, shyly bringing his eyes from the floor to you.

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “Still just as gorgeous as ever.”

His face softened and a smirk played at his lips, just as he turned to catch up with the rest of the guys.

—

The time had almost come for the guys to take the stage, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just as nervous as they most likely were. Brand new tour, brand new songs, brand new era…

You knew they would absolutely kill it no matter what, but you were sure the anxiety was still high. The sound of the crowd was almost deafening even this far away, and at an outdoor venue at that. You never imagined there would be this many people.

Right before they were to head toward backstage, small plastic shot glasses were passed around to the surrounding crew, while Josh had everyone gather for a toast. You took the cup of what smelled like vodka, and raised it into the air. A familiar presence was suddenly by your side, meeting your extended arm with his own. Jake.

“Thank you all for being here, and making this happen tonight! To Strange Horizons!” Josh yelled above the lull of the screaming crowd. He held his tiny glass up, and everyone joined in with clanking theirs together before shooting the clear liquor. You turned a little toward Jake, as he held his cup up to yours.

“Cheers, love.” He said, barely tipping his cup to tap yours, raising his eyebrows with the smallest grin.

“Cheers…” was all you could manage through the thick sound of your heart beating in your ears. Love?

He tilted it back and swallowed its contents, and he was gone without another word. You stood there for a second collecting yourself.

“That shot’s not gonna take itself, babe!” Sam yelled, guiding your hand to bring it to your lips. You let the chilled liquid coat your insides, hoping that it would calm the storm that was brewing inside you. You heard Josh’s voice on the special intro monologue begin, and the crowd erupted in an explosion of screams.

“There you go...There she is!” Sam shouted as you finished downing the shot.

He brought his lips close to your ear, “Checked your phone lately?” He pulled away with a wink and a wide smile, and spoke loudly again. “You ready?!” And then he, too, was gone.

You felt your radio vibrate with sound, and you brought it close to your ear. “Two minutes, two minutes to stage.” your heart rate immediately picking up.

You looked around to make sure everyone was accounted for, and then rushed everyone toward the stage, security and other coordinators in tow. You could feel the energy radiating off of them. They were electric.

In seconds you found yourself side stage with the guys as they awaited their cue to walk. They took a second to peek at the ginormous crowd, a sea of raised hands and cell phones ready and waiting to capture the first seconds of their beloved band taking the stage again.

No one really spoke, not like you could hear anything over the audience anyway. Everyone exchanged looks and shoulder grabs, basking in their excitement together. You looked to Jake, who was pulling his guitar strap over his head, and offered him a genuine smile, silently wishing him ‘good luck’ as you could. He nodded and smiled back, still able to read your expressions even after all these years.

Suddenly the lights went out, and there was a beat of silence, their cue to storm the stage. You watched as they left your side and found their rightful spots with their instruments. Plugging in, and taking a deep breath.

As the lights faded up, Sam’s keys began the first song. Filling the arena with beautiful and ethereal sounds in a way that only he could. The crowd exploded into screams and cheers as they recognized the song. You watched on as thousands of people sang the lyrics back to the band, not missing a beat.

You found yourself having a hard time deciding whether to watch the show or watch the crowd. They held hands, they cried, they swayed as they sang...now you understood why this was so addicting for them. The fans gave so much energy, song after song, an unrelenting celebration with each tempo switch.

Your eyes carried themselves to Jake as you finally allowed yourself to watch him in his element. You’d been actively ignoring him the whole show so far, not letting yourself see him finally play, for real. You thought back, you hadn’t seen him play since that fateful night at the bar. Years ago. Even then he was a force to be reckoned with, but now, god, he held absolutely nothing back.

You watched as he pranced around, completely taken with the music he was creating, and even more taken with the effect it had on the audience…absolute madness. You could tell he fed off of it. Lived for it. The way his body moved was so sensual, tilting his head back and rolling his entire body with the sound. His facial expressions matched, too. You felt like falling into a hole when you realized you’d seen him make those faces before, years ago, locked up in his room for two days with nothing better to do than each other.

You had to force yourself to rip your eyes off of him. You noticed you’d been looking at only him for the past ten minutes or so. He was just so…mesmerizing to watch. The passion he felt while playing and interacting with the crowd and the rest of the band was a show in itself. And he sounded perfect.

Then you caught a glimpse of his torso…Holy shit…The lights from the stage were bouncing off the sweat dripping down his chest and stomach. The proof of his exertion in the heat of the summer night. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down as the sweat dripped in a steady stream from his throat down to the button of his pants. Watching as he would occasionally wipe it between chords. That was a visual you did not need right now.

You turned around to collect yourself, and grab a drink of water. You checked your phone quickly; you’d completely forgotten Sam had asked you if you had earlier. You’d done what he said to do – silenced his notifications, and changed his contact name. You couldn’t think of a name off the top of your head, so instead you chose to just use ‘Keys’. You had a photo notification from him from a little over an hour ago. You stepped behind some equipment, and opened the attachment.

There it sat. A photo of him in a partially fogged-up mirror, in just a towel hanging low around his hips. He had wiped the fog from the mirror just enough that you could see him. His face, dark with lust. He was holding the towel together right at the top of his bulge, only the light smattering of dark hair visible, leaving almost everything to the imagination.

He was still dripping from his shower, the water glistening on his tanned skin. His wet hair falling at his shoulders with tiny droplets dripping from the ends, down onto his chest. He looked positively edible. His eyes lured you in, dark and focused, his jaw clenched tight. He wanted you. That much was clear.

You locked your phone screen and returned your focus to the show, trying to forget the fact that both of them had managed to get you hot within the past two minutes.

What the hell are they doing to you?

You watched them intently, the music beginning to slow and the lights growing dim. The spotlight shone on Sam, playing a familiar tune on his piano. Is this greensleeves? Your brow furrowed as you watched him effortlessly play the melody you knew so well. As that came to a close, you watched him fully light and take the first hit from a cigarette, right there on stage. Blowing the smoke from his mouth and watching it dissipate into the light. Oh, he’s surely showing off tonight.

The music swelled again, and the guitar came in. A haunting sound from Jake that nearly made you stop breathing. This must be one of their new songs. The intro lasted a good bit before they jumped into the full song. You checked your notes. You’d forgotten you kept one of the copies of the setlist. Age of Machine…you remembered listening to this the other night. You watched the crowd go crazy over it, especially as Jake began to go into a solo. Completely captured by his playing again, you felt your head swirling as you watched. It was like he slipped into another dimension and dragged you there with him. But in the moment there was no place you’d rather be.

The song began to trail into something else, another familiar sound. Was this...? You reached deep into the depths of your memory, trying to remember the garage days. You knew this… this was the song they played at the Groovebox thing… What was the name of it…?

Then it hit you. You made quick eye contact with Sam, “Is this Thunderstomp?!” You mouthed to him.

He smiled a giant smile, and slowly nodded ‘yes’ as he did so. Wow. You hadn’t heard this in so many years, and they decided to add a snippet in for fun. You suddenly felt all the emotions from the night so far building up. The memories coming back full force of watching them practice for hours in the garage...the day Jake asked Sam to come and play the bass for him. Jake had gotten his first real electric guitar, and fell in love with it. He never set it down. Sam always picking on him for how attached he was.

You remembered as a kid, your mom and dad would take you over to the Kiszka house while the parents played cards into the early morning hours. Sam would practice the piano for hours on end while you sat and listened, doing homework and watching movies on mute.

You remembered Sam getting his very own bass guitar for Christmas one year, being surprised and excited, but intimidated nonetheless.

“Dad this is awesome, but I don’t know how to play it.” He’d said.

“Don’t worry. You’ll pick it up one day.” Kelly winked.

You remembered the day Jake busted into the living room, carrying Sam’s untouched bass.

“Hey, come on. We need you to play this.” He said, placing the bass on Sam’s lap.

“Dude I don’t know how. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Go away.” Sam replied.

Jake kneeled down next to him, his face softening to match his voice, “Please, Sambo? Try for me. I’ll show you a few chords. I’ll…I’ll teach you.” Jake begged.

Sam met your eyes, looking for your opinion. All you did was shrug, “Let him teach you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You kick ass on the keys, how do you know you won’t kick ass on this too?” Jake pleaded, sending him a warm smile.

You remembered the visual of Sam reluctantly getting up from the couch and dragging himself to the garage, Jake so excited just to have him there. That he was willing to try, just for him.

Two weeks later, he was a natural. He played it like he’d known how for years. His fingers glided across the strings effortlessly and from then on, you couldn’t drag him away from the garage.

The memory flashed away as you now watched them on the stage together, sounding as professional as ever, with thousands of fans screaming for them. They had fun together, dancing around and communicating with their eyes. This was their true passion.

Pride welled up in your chest as you began to cry tears of happiness for them, being so thankful you were there for the beginning of it all, and so sorry you had missed out on the middle.

—

The show ended on a high note, the encore rounding off the first night perfectly. When the guys flooded off stage, they were full of excitement and exhaustion, searching for drinks and towels, rushing backstage as quickly as possible. Ok, back to work.

You followed them out, watching as they celebrated together, suppressing your tears and emotions as best you could. You were so proud.

Everyone was loaded up in the vans, ready to go back to the hotel and clean up from the night. You checked your phone and email one last time, ticking off check marks on your list of post-show tasks. A perfect night, no mishaps whatsoever. You felt so lucky, and truly felt like you had a handle on this job so far. You shot Allison a text letting her know how everything went, and that you were headed back to the hotel for the night.

You sneakily turned your body so your phone was concealed, and opened the photo from Sam again. You felt a wave of nervous excitement flood your system, and you saved the photo to your private album, deleting the one from the text thread. You decided to shoot him a quick text.

You 11:47 pm: Thank you for that. More where it came from?

Keys 11:48 pm: You’re very welcome. Absolutely, lots more ;) Come shower with me?

You pondered for a second, not seeing any harm in it.

You 11:49 pm: I’ll be there.

The vans pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, and everyone began to unload. Everybody was tired, but still a bit keyed up from the excitement of the night. You checked in with the crew, letting everyone know of the meeting time tomorrow morning. With that, you turned your iPad off, and silenced your phone.

You entered the hotel lobby, rustling around in your backpack for your key card and making your way to the elevator.

“Hey!” A familiar voice caught you off guard from down the hall. It was Jake walking toward you. Your heart nearly stopped beating. “You ok? I saw you wiping your eyes getting into the van.”

Oh shit, he’d seen the after effects of your emotional breakdown.

“Hey! Yeah, I’m fine. Just got a little…in my feelings watching you guys.” you trailed off, already having said too much.

“Oh, is that…bad?” He asked, completely misunderstanding your reason for tears.

You gave him a halfhearted smile as you took a deep breath. “Exactly the opposite, actually.” You offered, not wanting to go into any detail at the moment.

“Okay, well…I was gonna get changed and go down to the hotel bar. Do you… wanna join?” He asked motioning behind him. His eyes were full of hope.

Yes. Yes I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. Take me wherever you want and do whatever you want with me.

“Ah, that’s okay. You go ahead. Rain check, though?” You answered, going against every ounce of judgment in your brain.

His face fell, defeated. “Yeah, rain check.” He grinned a little, and turned back the way he was heading. You felt like kicking yourself.

“Oh, Jake?” He turned back around, now walking backwards away from you, hands in his pockets. “You guys sounded really great tonight. It was perfect.” You offered, wanting to give him more, go into every little detail about his playing, ask him a million questions, drone on for hours about how much you loved everything about the show…About him.

“Thanks for keeping us in line, darlin’.” And with that, he turned the corner, and was gone. That was the second time he’d used a pet name tonight. First love, now darlin? He made you weak in the knees.

You boarded the elevator with a heavy fog clouding your mind. You replayed the encounter over and over. You felt terrible for turning his invitation down, but you already made plans to go to Sam’s room. You pressed the button for your floor, and suddenly felt overwhelmingly confused.

Should you knock on Jake’s door by accident?

JAKE POV

You should have known she wouldn’t agree to it. Of course she didn’t want to get a drink with you. You purposefully walked to the opposite end of the building to board a different elevator than she had, suddenly feeling stupid for asking her in the first place.

‘Let her come to you’, Josh’s words ringing through your head over and over as the elevator doors opened. You stepped inside, pulling your phone from your pocket just as Sam stepped in beside you.

“You good? You look like someone punched you in the gut.” he jokes.

You smirk, “Mmm, kind of feels that way.” you whisper to yourself.

“Huh?” he questions, not hearing your words.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Just tired. Been a minute since I played like that is all. Hand hurts.” you answer.

“Okay...Well, what floor are you?” he asks.

“Eleven.” you answer stoically.

“Oh, me too!” he says, far too joyfully for your taste.

The elevator dings as you arrive at the eleventh floor, both of you stepping out into the carpeted hallway. You pull your keycard from your wallet as you round the corner.

Sam is not too far behind you, but stopping as he reaches the room next to yours, tapping his key to the lock.

“Night!” he says, nodding his head towards you.

“Later.” you reply, opening your door, and stepping inside.

Kicking off your boots you hobble further into the room, turning on a lamp and depositing your things on the dresser in one fell swoop.

You make your way into the bathroom, turning the shower on, letting the water get hot as you remove your clothes. The shower is quick, rinsing away the remnants of sweat and letting the scalding water relax your tired muscles. You massage the sting in your hand as you close it into a fist. Will this goddamn thing ever heal?

As the bathroom fills with steam you let your mind wander. It was so good to be back on the stage finally playing the songs as they were intended to be heard. The crowd seemed to love it, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. Did she actually like it? Her smile as you walked off the stage should have been enough of an indication, but the smile was laced with something else. Her eyes were sad. You could tell she had been crying. You were feeling really confident mid set, nailing every note with ease, just like you practiced time and time again.

But the sadness of her demeanor as the show ended had you wondering if maybe you hadn’t done as well as you thought. Maybe she was expecting more? If you were good she would have told you, right? You’d do better tomorrow. You’d show her. All you really want is for her to be proud of you.

You turned the knob on the shower, letting the water trickle from the shower head until it came to a stop. You grabbed the towel from the rack and wrapped yourself in the scratchy white fabric. Walking back into the room, you unzipped your suitcase pulling out your sweats and a t-shirt before closing it back up.

You ran your fingers through your wet hair as you spotted the mini bar near the window. Squatting down in front of the offerings you found 4 mini bottles of Jack Daniel’s. Perfect.

Pulling them from the slot, you stood up and grabbed one of the glasses covered with a paper shield, and twisted the lid on the first bottle of Jack. Hesitating, your eyes flashed to the ice bucket. Yeah, I think so.

Ice bucket in hand you made your way to the door, grabbing your room key and twisting the lock. As you open the door to step out, you glance down the hallway in search of the vending machines, but what you see is not the sight you were looking for.

You see Y/N standing in front of Sam’s door, about to walk in. Your eyes meet quickly, as your grip on the ice bucket tightens. This is why she turned you down. For Sam.

Her eyes break from yours, glancing at the ice bucket in your hand and tossing you a sorrowful smile, just as she holds the card to the lock. Her eyes flash back up to yours, and you can still see that same look in them that she had earlier. She is sad. She looks away and steps inside, and as the door shuts behind you, you let out the breath that was caught in your chest at first sight of her.

When will it be my door she walks through? Will it ever be?

—

HER POV

You landed on your floor, and walked to your room to change out of your more professional outfit and into something a little more comfortable. It was a hot day, and changing out of the clothes you’d spent the day sweating in felt nice. You actually were very excited to shower the day off with Sam, and actually enjoy the shower itself.

You grabbed a pair of jeans and tshirt for the morning walk of shame, and changed into a loose tank top and shorts for tonight. You headed back to the elevator, and up to Sam’s room. On the ride up, you texted him to let him know you were coming.

You 12:09pm: Almost there!

Keys 12:10pm: Shower’s hot.

You 12:10pm: Good. So am I…

Keys 12:11pm: Hurry up

The elevator doors opened, and you took off down the hallway toward his room, only to be met with Jake, again, walking back down the hall with an ice bucket in hand. You felt like your skull was full of lightning bolts, thoughts bouncing around in your head of what lie you could tell him to get out of this one.

When his eyes met yours, his posture dropped. You didn’t need to lie. He knew exactly where you were going. Exactly why you turned down drinks. Neither of you said a word, just held eye contact as you walked slowly toward each other and approached your respective doors. You raised the key card to the handle, and it unlocked. You twisted the knob, and gave Jake one last longing look before slipping into Sam’s room.

You dropped your things on the couch, and took a deep and cleansing breath. Jake just had to be in the hallway at that exact moment, didn’t he? Why did you keep lining up like this? You decided to shake the thought free, and suppress the vision of the look on his face when he realized where you were going.

You heard the shower running in the bathroom, so you decided to give Sam a little show. You stripped down to nothing, and quietly opened the bathroom door. The shower glass was fogged up, but you could see the silhouette of his body inside. You pulled the handle on the thin glass of the door, and stepped inside. He wiped his face clean of the residual soap he was washing with, and opened his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey.” You said with a smile.

“Hey yourself.” He immediately pulled you into him, skin to skin, standing under the hot streams of the shower. “You killed it today, you know. You’re really a natural.” He began to lay his mouth on your neck.

“Mmm, I dunno Sam. Everyone pretty much already knows exactly what to do and how to do it. I don’t do much.” You replied, tilting your head back to give him more access.

“I guess…but you keep us on time and in touch. There’s got to be so much you do behind the scenes that no one ever notices.” He went on, turning you around and pulling his fingers through your hair to wet it.

“I suppose so, but enough about me. Let’s talk about how you guys made me cry in front of all my new coworkers tonight.” You joked, but not really.

“Ahh, I thought I saw you get a little emotional over there. Was it the Thunderstomp throwback?” he laughed, continuing to massage your scalp.

“That’s definitely made it worse… I was already just...in awe of you guys. How you sounded. How you performed...it’s unreal Sam. I’m being serious.”

“Well thanks, babe. I’m sorry you cried. I think happy tears are good for you, though.” He replied. You didn’t have the guts to tell them that they weren’t all happy tears.

You finished up washing yourselves, and were left still standing in the shower, taking each other in. You brought your hands up to hold Sam’s face, and placed a genuine kiss to his lips. He smiled, and wrapped his arms around you again. He kissed you back, a bit harder this time. You began fighting each other for dominance through the kiss as it became more heated, and your hands began to search each other’s bodies.

You felt yourself getting insanely turned on as Sam quickly backed you against the wall of the shower, and lifted one of your legs to rest over his hip. He tightened his jaw as he felt himself pressed against you, growing harder with each passing second. “God I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of how you feel...” he said through his clenched teeth. He began to grind against your now spread lips, and the friction was enough to drive you insane. He held you in place while he teased you with his tip, moving it from your clit to your entrance and back again, never fully pressing in.

“Please Sam, I need you.” You pleaded, begging him to fill you.

“Tell me what you need, baby. Talk to me.” He growled.

“Fuck, I need you inside me. Can you?” You looked up at him, giving him the eyes you knew he couldn’t refuse.

“Tell me why I should fuck you, hm? Give me a good reason...” he continued grinding hard against your clit, causing you to begin to see stars.

“Because you did so good tonight...played so perfect…” you whimpered.

He reached and grabbed your tit with his free hand, giving it a rewarding squeeze.

“Yeah? You enjoyed yourself tonight? Liked watching me up there?” He twisted your nipple, eliciting a cry from your throat.

“Yeah Sammy, I did like watching you...playing for all those people. So hot. All those screaming fans wishing they could have you…let you take them back to your room and have your way with them…” you spoke between breaths.

Suddenly he separated from you and released your leg, spinning you around to lean your arms down on the seat in the shower. You bent in half, and looked back toward him. He laid a loud smack across your right ass cheek, spurring you on.

“Keep going...” he ordered.

“But you weren’t going to bring them back to your room, because you knew I would come. And I would fuck you just how you like…right Sammy?” You said, backing yourself against him, teasing him a little now.

He let out a low growl, bringing his hands to your hips and pulling himself toward you. “Mmmmhm… but you did something you shouldn’t have, didn’t you angel?”

“And what is that?” you ask.

“I happened to see a sexy little picture on Jake’s phone… one that I’ve seen before…” he says, continuing to tease you.

“Mmmm… I may have sent it… Are you jealous Sammy?” you ask, pressing yourself back to him.

“No. Should I remind you who has you bent over in the shower with their cock inside you?” he says, pressing just the tip to your opening.

You decided to keep going. “I opened the photo you sent me during the show tonight…you looked so hot Sam...made me wet just looking at it…couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night.” he was teasing your entrance again.

“Fuckkkkk me…” he huffed, letting himself enter you just a little bit.

“Yeah Sam, please. Listen to yourself, falling apart for me, do it.” You stepped your legs apart a little and swayed your hips for him, giving him no choice but to give you what you wanted. Suddenly, you heard the shower turn off.

You turned to face him, a devilish look painting his features.

“Go get on the bed. Don’t dry off.” He spoke sternly smacking your ass, and you had no choice but to do just that.

JAKE POV

You watch as the ice starts to melt in the glass as you pour over the tiny bottle of warm Jack Daniels. Only giving it just enough time to chill before tossing it back and twisting the lid on the next.

You listen as the TV drones on in the background, playing some crime investigation show that you haven’t been paying attention to. How could you after that?

You wish you could silence the thoughts plaguing your mind. Wish you could drown them in the mini bottles of liquor now swirling through your bloodstream. But you can’t.

When the bottles are empty and your mind is fuzzy you retire to the bed, turning off the lamp and lowering the volume on the TV. As you scroll through your phone your eyelids become heavy and start to become harder and harder to hold open.

Thump.

Your eyes shot open. What was that?

Thump.

You sat up in your bed, looking around to find the source of the noise. Fucking hotels. The clock read 1:07 am. You had only been asleep for about 15 minutes. Pushing your hair out of your face you shake your head and lay back down. You grab the remote, turning the TV off, and trying to close your eyes to find the sleep you were disturbed from.

Thump. Thump.

“What the fuck…” you growl, but thats when you hear it. The muffled groan.

Your eyes widen as you realize where the noise is coming from. Fuck me.

Then you hear it again, the stifled whine traveling through the wall from Sam’s room. Wait, are they fighting? A pitchy moan floats through the wall. Oh, they are not fighting…God, I should not be listening to this.

Grabbing the remote you turn the TV back on, hoping the noise will drown out the sex seeping in from next door. Fucking Sam, what an asshole. They could have at least gone to her room.

As you lay there staring at the TV screen you watch as the detectives cover a body with a tarp as you hear the repeated moans echoing through the walls. Shit, kill me too while you’re at it.

Turning the volume up further on the TV you placed a pillow over your head, and tried to go back to sleep. Letting the soft feather pillow rest over your face, you feel yourself starting to slip back into that sleepy state. As your eyes begin to shut you hear the headboard as it slams against the wall yet again. Jesus Christ, when did he get so much stamina?

You grab the pillow and throw it to the other side of the bed in frustration and that's when the final straw is snapped. The fucked out moan you can hear clear as day through the paper thin walls, ‘Sam…’

You grab your phone off of the nightstand, finding his contact and hitting call. It’s no surprise when it rings through to voicemail. Asshole. You sigh as you set the phone down, seeing the black room phone sitting on the stand next to the lamp. Ha...he can’t ignore that.

Flicking on the lamp you pick up the phone, and call in to the front desk. It rings in for a moment before the woman on the other end asks what she can do to help you. “Hey, this is Jake Kiszka in room 1109, could you please connect me to Sam Kiszka in room 1107?” you ask as politely as possible.

“Sure thing, have a great night.” she replies, transferring the call and letting it ring through. You pull the receiver away from your ear as you listen to hear his phone ringing next door. Got ya bitch.

“Hello?” he answers, voice thick with confusion.

“Good evening Samuel. Do you think you could keep it the fuck down over there?” you ask.

He clears his throat, “You can… hear… over there?” he asks nervously.

“Yeah, I can and if I have to hear one more thing, the next scream to leave your mouth will be the last when I come over there and make you the next victim on this late-night murder investigation show I'm watching.” you say, hanging up the phone. That should do it.

Turning the lamp back off you adjust your pillows and roll to your side. The noise stopped after that and you found yourself falling back asleep, but it was not lost on you that the noises you were hearing were also coming from her. Does he make her happy? Does she even remember what it felt like to be with you? You wanted to be the reason she made those noises, not him. Would you ever get to do that again? You forced the thoughts out of your head and let the darkness carry your mind away to a place far, far from here.

NIGHT TWO

HER POV

Your alarm goes off right at 7:00, forcing your eyes open in panic. The room is bright, as the sun shines through from the window. The curtains left open in the haste of the evening.

Turning your head you see Sam, still passed out next to you, clearly unaffected by the sound of the alarm. You smirk as you roll to your side, grabbing your phone and scrolling through your emails, trying to wake up your brain for another insane day of work.

After a few minutes, you take one last look at Sam, sneak out of the bed and gather your clothes from the floor, sliding them back on as you search for your room key. You shut the door quietly behind you, as you make your way to the elevator pressing the call button to take you to your floor.

It dings as the doors open to reveal none other than Josh standing inside, steaming hot cup of coffee in his hand.

“Good morning!” he says cheerily, voice still thick with sleep.

“Hi Josh, looks like I don't need to knock on your door do I?” you laugh, pressing the 4th floor button until it’s illuminated.

“Knock on my door?” he asks, sipping from the steaming cup.

“Oh, yeah I told Sam and Danny I would come knock on their doors when they needed to get up today. Like a wake up call kinda, but I don't need to wake them up for another hour or so. You guys have an interview at the venue this morning.” you answer.

“Oh. We do?” he asks, brow furrowed.

You pulled out your phone and looked at the schedule for today. “Uh, yeah, right here. 11:00, it’s for Premier Guitar. Looks like it’s a Sam and Jake interview.”

“Oh, the guy for Rig Rundown?” he asks.

“Yeah, that's what it says in the notes.” you reply.

“Hmm… no one ever wants to hear about what the singer does…” he says dramatically ending with a wink and a smile.

“You and Danny have one later in the day, drama queen.”

The elevator descends slowly and you watch as the numbers start to count down.

“So if you don't have to wake them up for another hour, where were you coming from?” he asks, with a knowing smirk.

You cut your eyes at him, not wanting to answer his question. “Would you look at that, here's my floor...” you say stepping out into the hallway through the open doors.

“Hey, wait.” he calls, holding the door open with his arm. You turn to look at him, sending him a questioning look.

“Can we… talk later?” he asks.

You swallow nervously as your mind tries to come up with an answer, “About what?”

He tilts his head in response and you know exactly what he wants to talk about. You let a sigh leave your chest as you concede, “Okay... Later.”

He smiles and removes his arm, taking a sip of his coffee and raising his eyebrow as the doors shut in front of him.

Shit.

—

After a long shower and some primping you are feeling good and ready to tackle another day. You check your phone to see that it’s time to go wake up the rest of the guys to make sure they have enough time to get ready and be at the venue on time.

Pressing the button for the elevator you make your way to Danny’s room first, knocking on the door twice and waiting for some type of confirmation that he was awake. After a minute or two you heard the lock twist and the door open, to see a mess of curls and tired eyes.

“Good morning…” he groans. “How long do I have? Is there coffee?” he asks.

“You have about an hour until we need to meet downstairs. Yes there is coffee.” you answer.

He drags his hand over his face and groans as he nods his head. “Thank you. Really. I will see you shortly.” he smiles, and you turn on your heels heading back to the elevator.

Stepping off on floor eleven, you try to decide if you should wake Sam first or Jake first, knowing that both had a very late night, and are not particularly morning people. Picking the lesser of the two evils you head to Sam’s door, tapping the key to the lock and letting it open.

He is almost exactly how you left him, except the blankets have been shoved down to the foot of the bed, the heat of the sun shining in, warming the room. You sit on the edge of the bed, and grab his leg, shaking it gently to try and wake him. “Sammy…” you whisper.

A groan leaves his chest, “Not yet…” he whines, throwing a pillow over his eyes.

“I let you sleep as long as I could…you have to get up or you’re going to be late.” you say softly.

“Ugh… you sound like my mother…” he says.

You stand up and walk to his side of the bed, hovering over top of him as your hands cage in his head. You lean down and press a kiss to the side of his neck, hoping that it would at least get him to open his eyes, and like magic it works.

His dark brown eyes flutter open quickly raking over you as his lips turn into a smile.

“Damn, you look gorgeous, did you do something different to your hair?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through the silky smooth locks.

You laugh as you stand up, “I had some time this morning so I gave myself a blowout, why do you like it?” you ask.

“Yeah… you look…hot.” he smiles, sitting up in the bed and grabbing your hand pulling you towards him. “How much time do we have again?” he asks suggestively.

“Not enough…now get up and get in the shower. I’ll see you downstairs in an hour. Please be on time…” you say making your way back to the door.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Next door. I have to wake up your brother.” you answer.

Guilt shoots through him as he remembers the events of the evening, “Probably not so sexy of a wake up call for him though, huh?”

You laugh, “No, probably not Sam. Just you.” you say in a mocking tone, letting the door shut behind you.

You nervously walk the few steps to his door, as the memory of his face last night flashes through your brain. If you had just been 2 minutes earlier he wouldn’t have seen you walking into Sam’s room. You swallow shakily as you lift your hand to knock on the heavy wooden door.

You stand there anxiously, waiting to see if you can hear any sign of life on the other side. When you hear nothing, you decide to knock again, this time being met with the door being thrown open and an irritated Jake on the other side.

His face softens as he realizes it’s you and he swallows back the harsh words that were about to leave his lips.

Your eyes travel up the length of his body as he stands there leaning against the door frame in just his sweats. You cast your eyes to the floor as you try to speak the twenty different thoughts swirling through your brain, “Umm… hey… I just…I woke up the rest of the guys… you have an interview later…just didn’t want you to oversleep. I didn’t mean to bother you…I didn’t even ask you if you wanted a wake up call, did I? You probably didn’t…I’m sorry… I was just next door and I thoug–” you stammered before he stopped you.

“Hey. Relax. It’s fine. Thanks for waking me up. Just use a key next time so I don’t have to get out of bed. I’m hungover as fuck, is there coffee downstairs anywhere?” he grumbles, rubbing his face.

You blink blankly at him as your brain searches for any words, “Uhh, yeah. Yes. There is. I can have room service send some up if you want.” you say pulling your phone from your back pocket.

“No, no it’s okay, I can get it. Thank you though. Thanks for waking me. What time do I need to be down there?” he asks.

You check the time on your phone, “Like… 45 minutes.” you answer, biting your lip.

His eyes meet yours, and he smiles softly as he nods his head, “Thank you.” You nod in return, turning to walk back to the elevator, and stepping inside as the doors opened. But as the doors began to close you noticed him still standing in his doorway, watching you leave. Your eyes meeting his and never breaking away until the doors slid shut.

—

Your foot bounces nervously on the lobby floor as you wait for the guys to begin trickling down stairs. You check the time on your phone as texts and emails continue to pour in. Danny is the first to meet you, taking a seat next to you on the small couch.

“I’m not surprised you’re the first one down.” you laugh.

“Yeah, I am usually the one doing the wake up calls, it was nice to be the recipient this time.” he smiles.

A few minutes later you see Sam strolling out of the elevator, fresh from the shower, hair still wet and slicked back, just barely touching the collar of his white shirt.

“My two favorite people!” he says, positioning himself on the chair across from you.

“Ready for your big interview?” you ask.

“Oh, yeah, we have done this with him before, but this time my bass actually has strings.” he laughs. “But, I had an idea and I will need your help…” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

He spends the next ten minutes telling you and Danny about his hairbrained idea involving a tiny table and chairs and a bottle of vodka, both of you erupting in laughter. You shoot a quick text to one of the crew members, trying to coordinate those details for him knowing it will add some comedy to an otherwise monotonous interview.

Summer is the next one down, sitting next to Danny and immediately starting up an overly animated conversation.

The elevator dings and you all turn your heads to see Josh and Jake walking out of the elevator together, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet Jakes.

He looks so…good. Dressed in a black button up, sans buttons, a navy blue blazer, and a pair of loose fitting jeans, he looked perfectly disheveled. Mature. Expensive. Much different from the guy you knew a few years ago in ripped jeans and cut off t-shirts. But as he approached you, you could smell him. His cologne leaving a trail behind him as he walked, spicy and warm and positively intoxicating. You swallowed harshly trying to keep your composure as you let the scent fill your nose.

“We ready to go?” Josh asked, looking around at the group.

You stood up from the couch, clutching your iPad, “Yeah, the van was here like twenty minutes ago.” you laugh.

“Some of us needed a little extra sleep this morning. Didn’t sleep well last night. Thin walls, you know?” Jake says, tossing a bitter look to Sam.

Sam’s face turns pale as he stands up and walks towards the door heading for the van. Guilt washes through you as you follow the rest of them out the doors and into the bright sun.

You all pile into the van, and thankfully the drive is short, as Summer has not stopped talking since the doors shut. All of the guys were being far too polite and were too hungover to tell her to stop. You spend most of the ride responding to emails and running over the itinerary for the day and before you know it you are pulling into the back of the venue. As you all step out, the guys linger waiting to be told where they need to be.

“Okay, Jake and Sam, John with Premier Guitar will be here in about 45 minutes to start the interview. Sam I already talked to Mike and he is getting your little table ready. Josh and Daniel, the interviewer from 105.9 will be here at 12:30. After that you’re free to do whatever you need to do. Summer, if you want to just kind of float around and get some photos of the guys, you are good to do your own thing. Any questions?” you ask.

They all nod their heads and break off towards the green room as you and Summer walk towards the stage to check on the progress.

“Was your room okay last night?” you ask, trying to make small talk.

She holds her camera up to her eye, checking her settings as she turns to you, “Yeah, it was really nice. How about yours?”

“Oh, yeah, the rooms are great. Hoping to get better sleep tonight though. Looking forward to another jam-packed day, first.” you laugh.

Looking over her shoulder she checks her surroundings, “Okay was it just me or was Jake looking extra good this morning? Did you smell him? Ugh, I hope he never buttons his shirts ever again.” she giggles.

You laugh, “He looked pretty hungover to me…”

“But you have to admit he's hot though…” she says, holding the camera up to her eye, snapping the capture button.

“Our boss? Jake?” you say, condescendingly.

“Ugh… objectively then. Just as a man.” she says.

“Yes, objectively as a man he is attractive, but he’s still our boss and has the ability to fire us for any reason he sees fit. I think it would be smart to keep that in mind, you know?” you quip.

“Yeah, yeah… I hear you.” she smiles, before scurrying off to the soundbooth.

You shake your head as you climb the stairs to the stage, looking to make sure the table and chairs are set in the back for Sam. When you see the tiny table and the drinks you laugh, ready to see how his little vision will play out later.

Walking back down the steps you thank the crew for assisting with the last minute addition before making your way to the green room. You check the time on your phone, seeing that the interviewer will be here any minute. Jake and Sam were lounging on the couch, nursing their hangovers with none other than more alcohol.

You shake your head as you address them, “Are you two ready?”

Sam stands up and slides his black loafers back on, as he tries to crack his knuckles, “Yeah I’m ready if he is.” he says motioning to Jake, who is sipping from his paper cup, sunglasses sitting low on his nose.

“Alright alright…Yes, I’m ready.” he says, pushing his sunglasses up and tossing back the rest of his drink. He stands to meet Sam and fixes his blazer and shirt, making himself look less hungover and more presentable.

A knock at the door has your head snapping to meet it, as you reach for the handle. You’re met with the sight of an older man, who you’re assuming was here to interview them, with a bag full of mics and a camera team.

“Hey, I’m John with Premier Guitar. You guys ready!?” he asks excitedly.

Suddenly Jake steps forward, his entire demeanor changing as he becomes a more polished and clean version of himself, shaking hands with the man like they were old friends. Jake led him and his crew out to the stage, as you and Sam followed closely behind.

“Geeze, that was weird, he just…turned on.” you say to Sam.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, he does that… Mr. Popularity… I tell ya…” he says. “Alright, see you in a bit.” he says, squeezing your hand before climbing up the stairs to the stage.

You watch from the side stage, as Jake talks intently about his passion, explaining the ins and outs of his set up, the ideas he came up with for the sound and the way he intends things to be heard. It’s incredibly addicting watching him speak so passionately about what he loves. You have a hard time tearing your eyes away from him as you watch him demonstrate the different pedals and effects, pouring his soul into every note.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as you watched, but when a gentle hand made its way to your shoulder you were snapped from your moment of weakness.

“Oh, hi.” you say, turning to see Josh.

“Having fun?” he asks with a knowing tone.

“Just… making sure everything is running smoothly.” you answer.

“Right, right. That's all, hmm?” he asks with a wink.

You shake your head, “What’s up?”

“Come walk with me, wanna talk to you.” he says, gesturing to follow him.

“Right now? They are right in the middl–” you start.

“Exactly, let’s go.” he says, raising his eyebrows.

With a huff, you follow after him, meeting his stride as you head back towards the dressing rooms.

He steps inside, shutting the door behind you and taking a seat on the couch. You place your iPad on the table and sit down across from him.

“Okay, what’s up, are you firing me?” you laugh.

He laughs his genuine laugh, “No, of course not. You’re doing spectacular. No, I want to talk about… something else.”

You feel your palms start to sweat, and suddenly you know what he wants to talk about.

“Okay…” you reply nervously.

“How long are you two going to do this?” he asks.

“Do what?” you ask.

He tilts his head, “Come on Y/N, you know what. The back and forth, the subtle glances, the longing for each other from across the room…”

You let out a sigh,“I don’t think it’s like that between us anymore…I don’t think he feels… the same way anymore.” you offer.

A scoff leaves his chest, “Open your eyes Y/N. That man is deeply, deeply in love with you. Has been since he was sixteen years old. I think it’s safe to say he feels the same way as he always has.”

“He just broke up with Sophia, and… I don’t know, I thought maybe we would talk after all of that happened, but… we haven’t and… I’m just… waiting. I don’t know what for…I guess I just don’t want to mess things up. Tour just started. I don’t know Josh, everything is a mess. And really, truly he hasn’t really given me any indication that he wants to talk. Although… I guess he did ask to get drinks last night…”

“And… did you?” he asks, shocked.

“No.” you say looking at the floor.

“What? Why not?” he asks.

“Well… I had already made plans with Sam.” you reply.

He drags his hand across his face, “Shit Y/N…”

“Do you love him?” he asks.

“Who Sam!?” you ask, looking at him like he's crazy.

“No, Jake.” he replies.

You pause for a moment, your eyes searching his as you answer, “Of course I do, Josh. I never stopped.”

“So what are you waiting for? Go to him!” he urges.

“I can’t! It’s not that simple!” you say, raising your voice.

“It is! Cut things off with Sam and go talk to Jake! He needs you, and you’re torturing him. He is waiting for you!” he begs.

“He’s waiting for me? I’ve been waiting for him.” you breathe, almost a whisper.

“Yeah. He is. And in the meantime it’s killing him to watch you with Sam.” he says.

“He saw me…last night. I turned him down in the lobby. I really wanted to go with him, but I couldn’t just ditch Sam. He’s been there for me a lot lately, he means a lot to me, you know? Anyways, I felt terrible. Awful actually. But I went to Sam’s room, and as I was unlocking the door, Jake coming out of his room at the exact moment. He knew I turned him down for Sam. I wanted to disintegrate.” you say.

“I know. He texted me about it…Drank half of the mini bar because of it. Like I said, you’re torturing him.” he quipped. “You two need to talk. Seriously.”

“I know. I’m just scared Josh.” you admit.

“Don’t be scared, all he wants to do is love you.” he says.

“I’m not the same person I used to be. What if he doesn’t like who I am now?” you ask.

“He has loved every version of you he’s ever met, Y/N.” he offers.

You nod your head as you try to blink away the tears forming in your eyes.

“You are the only thing he has ever wanted, apart from this.” he says motioning around him. “Now he has it, but what is all of this without you? This will never be enough for him. He needs you.”

A single tear streaks down your face, as your walkie talkie beeps on your shoulder. ‘Y/N can you meet us at the soundbooth?’

“I have to go.” you say standing up and wiping away the tear.

“Okay, please, just think about what I said. Just talk to him.” he begs.

You swallow back the lump in your throat, “I will. Promise.” and with that you’re out the door.

As you hear it slam behind you, a shaky breath releases from your chest, just as Sam and Jake come barreling down the hallway. You do your best to put on a happy face as you see them, but you can see Jake’s smile drop as he meets your gaze.

Sam tries to stop you but you push past, “I have to go to the soundbooth but I’ll be right back okay?” Sam tosses you a concerned look but you ignore it, knowing if you turned around you would break down completely.

—

With only five minutes until the show began, you started to run through your final checklist, making sure everyone was dressed and ready, and had everything they needed. Again tonight you got to stand by and watch their pre show ritual, your heart instantly flooded with pride, just the same as last night.

You stand by the door as they file out one by one, checking to make sure their outfits are perfect. Josh first, then Danny, followed by Sam.

“Spin, let me see you.” you say, causing Sam to twirl in a circle with his topo chico in hand.

“Oh, let me fix your pants.” you say squatting down to smooth out the baby blue fabric on his leg.

“There. Off you go.” you say, swatting his butt with the iPad in your hand.

Finally, Jake walks out of the door, and as you check his outfit you see his collar flipped up again. “Hey, wait...” you say, the crowd roaring in the distance.

He turns to face you, swallowing as his eyes meet yours. “Your collar…again.” you smile, focusing on the fabric, folding it into place, letting your hand slide down his lapel ever so slightly. He turns and repositions his jacket, throwing his hair over his shoulders before turning back to you “Am I good?” he asks innocently, eyes searching yours.

Your eyes flick back up to meet his, “You’re perfect.” you breathe.

You watch as the sides of his lips turn upwards, as he tries to stifle back a smile.

He turns to catch up with the guys, looking over his shoulder at you once more before climbing the stairs to the stage.

You toss your head back onto the wall and sigh, continuing to think about what Josh said earlier. He was right, you really didn’t know what you were waiting for.

You would talk to him. Tonight.

—

Somehow the show tonight was even better than the night before. While you’re sure it had something to do with the show being recorded tonight, part of you wants to believe they will just get better and better with every show under their belt. Josh’s vocals were incredible, nailing each note with perfect precision, and making it look easy.

Your eyes were once again drawn to Jake as he played through the set putting every ounce of effort he had into the performance. He lived for this, and it was very apparent in the passion he poured into each show. Every so often you would peel your eyes away from his hands working the strings, and focus on Sam, vying for the attention of the girls on the barricade screaming his name. You shook your head and smiled at the looks he would give them. He is such a flirt.

When the guys rushed off stage before the encore, it was a flurry of hands, towels and water flying past your face as they all ran to the bathrooms. Quickly they returned one by one, preparing for the last 20 minutes of the show.

Pulling his jacket back over his arms, you watched the sweat continue to pour down Jake's stomach meeting the top of his pants. As you watched it drip you caught yourself, forcing your eyes back up to his face, only to be caught in the act.

A sly smile crossed his lips as he repositioned his guitar over his body, raising his eyebrows at you quickly before striding back onto the stage.

Shit. What was that?

The rest of the show was magnetic and you positively could not pull your eyes away from Josh as he gave the crowd everything he had. As the last notes rang through the venue you stood to the side, watching the guys rush past you one by one with haste as they made their way back to the green room.

You left the crew to do their thing and begin breaking down the set, as you start to run through the inventory checklist backstage, checking off each item as it was placed into its case. As you make your way towards the dressing rooms, you instruct the crew to hang their white coveralls in the travel case to be dry cleaned. Stepping into the main green room you see everyone standing around enjoying a much deserved drink, talking and laughing over the success of the show.

“Hey guys, you sounded amazing tonight! The van should be here in about 15 minutes to take you back to the hotel, so if you will just hang your suits in the case outside the door, I will send them off to be dry cleaned.”

They all nod in agreement, turning back to their conversations. Sam walks over to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder planting a kiss on your cheek. “You did it! Your first shows are done and dusted.” he smiles.

You wrap your arm around his waist, and laugh, “Well, I still have to make sure the rest of the crew gets the stage and everything packed up before I am done, but you guys are free to go when the van gets here. No need to wait on me.” you smile.

“Nonsense. We’re staying, right guys?” he asks, pulling you closer into his side.

“Yeah, we don’t have anywhere to be, as long as there is alcohol we are set.” Josh answers with a laugh.

“Okay, it shouldn't be too long I don’t think…” you say, releasing yourself from Sam's grip. “I’ll go check and see what the progress looks like and report back.”

You excuse yourself from the room, mind a blur as the image of Jake’s still sweaty body sat lounging on the leather couch. Shit, will I ever get used to that?

Returning to the stage you see that the crew is practically finished, just loading the pieces into the semi. You talk with the crew, releasing them for the night once they are finished, and telling them you would send them the schedule for tomorrow as soon as you could.

About twenty minutes later you are walking back into the green room to see that everyone had changed into their normal clothes, hanging their suits just like you asked. As you took a survey of the room you saw Sam and Danny chatting in the corner, Josh looking at his phone and Jake talking intently to Summer, who was practically perched in his lap as she spoke to him.

Your brow furrowed as you watched them, deeply engrossed in what each other was saying. You couldn’t fully hear their conversation, but you could see the pink in Jake’s cheeks as he laughed and smiled at her words. You could see the twinkle in her eyes as she continued to flirt with him, starting a fire in your chest. Maybe he does like her…

You turn your attention to Josh, “You ready to get out of here?” you ask.

He turns his head to look at Jake and Summer before answering you. “Yeah, probably should. Give any thought to what I said earlier?”

“Yeah, I did… I thought maybe I would talk to him tonight but now I don't know… He seems a little… preoccupied.” you respond.

“Ahh…He’s just being nice, don’t worry about her. He only has eyes for you.” he smiles as he stands up. “Alright boys, let's go!” he says, getting the attention of the other guys.

You make your way over to Sam, letting him pull you into his lap wrapping his arms around your waist as you laugh. You see Jake's eyes flash over to yours, connecting briefly as Sam whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he continues his conversation with Danny. Jake’s face drops, the sudden rosy quality of his face draining away to a pale shade that made you feel sick.

You didn’t want Summer to see the interaction between you and Sam so you quickly stood up, and made your way over to the door, opening it for everyone as they started to gather their things. Summer was the first out, camera bag in hand and completely oblivious to your moment with Sam. Jake followed after her, stopping to let Danny and Josh walk out before him.

As they filed out you shut the door behind yourself, wondering if Josh was actually right about Jake. Was he really still in love with you? He looked awfully cozy with Summer…

No. No more excuses. You were going to talk to him. You didn’t know how, but you knew you had to.

JAKE POV

Walking to catch up with Josh you leaned closer to whisper into his ear, “Did you see that shit Sam pulled? Why does he do that right in front of me? Does he think this is some kind of game?” you asked.

“Ahh… he probably saw how comfortable you looked with Summer and thought you wouldn’t mind.” he answers, raising his eyebrow.

“She came to talk to me… what was I supposed to do?” you ask.

“She did not come to talk to you Jacob. She was flirting with you. Even Y/N noticed.” he says.

What?

“She did?” you asked, rubbing your jaw nervously.

“Yeah…Hey listen I talked to her today…” he starts just as you arrive at the van.

“And… what? What did she say?” you beg, turning him to face you.

The van driver begins to talk to him and he gets distracted from your conversation, “Josh. What did she say?” you demand.

He looks around, not making eye contact with you, “Now isn’t a good time. I will tell you later. Promise.” he says, stepping into the van.

Fucker.

You climb in after him, pulling your phone from your pocket to distract yourself from the sight of her and Sam sitting in front of you. Summer climbs in taking the seat next to you and smiling at you as she settles her camera bag onto her lap. As the van begins to drive away she pulls her camera from its case and starts to flip through the photos from the night. You peer over her shoulder as you see shot after shot of yourself playing.

Damn, those are kinda good…

Every few photos she would pat your thigh to get your attention, sending a shiver up your spine as she would show you a particularly good shot. Much of the van ride was silent, apart from the few ‘ooo’s’ that would leave her mouth as she looked through her shots.

As the van pulled up outside the hotel you all filed out, you and Josh being the last ones out. Summer walked ahead as you stayed back to try and get Josh to finish what he was trying to tell you earlier.

“Okay, tell me. What did you two talk about.” you ask.

He sighs as he answers, “Well… you.”

You look ahead to find her, and see her walking into the elevator. “Yeah, and…” you urge.

The doors shut, leaving the two of you waiting for the next elevator.

“I think it would be better if you heard it from her. She wants to talk, Jake. She told me.” he says.

The doors open to the elevator, and the both of you walk in, pressing the buttons for your respective floors, as the doors shut once again.

“Okay but when?” you ask desperately.

“I don't know Jake, but I think it will be soon.” he says, as the doors open on his floor. “Just be patient. Call me if you need me.” he says, stepping out and walking away.

God damnit. You were done being patient. Should you go to her? Should you wait for her to come to you?

Tapping your key card to your door you step inside and throw yourself onto the bed with a sigh. Fucking hell what an exhausting day.

As you lay there running your hands over your face you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Removing a hand from your face you reach into the pocket and retrieve your phone.

Summer 11:48pm : Some of us are going to the bar downstairs, wanna come?

You practically drained the mini bar last night, why not? Maybe Y/N will be there.

You 11:50pm: Sure, be there shortly.

Summer 11:51pm: :)

After a few minutes freshening up in the bathroom you make your way back down to the lobby and over into the bar. You see Danny and Summer sitting at the bar chatting and walk over to join them.

“Hey man, didn’t think you were gonna make it.” Danny says facetiously.

“Ahh Daniel… You know I can’t turn down a good stiff drink after a long show.” you laugh.

You take a seat next to Summer, and order a Glenlivet on the rocks, sipping the spicy liquid from the rim of the glass.

After a little rundown of the show the conversation quickly turns into Danny telling Summer every embarrassing story about you that he can come up with. Summer is full of laughter, patting your knee and smiling as she listens intently to Danny’s stories.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or exhaustion but, the more you got to talk to her and get to know her, you were starting to enjoy her company. She is kind of pretty…she has a great smile.

You found yourself listening closer as she spoke, and genuinely laughing at her jokes. After two more scotch’s Daniel retired to bed, leaving you and Summer at the bar, still sipping away as the conversation flowed.

As she grabbed her glass from the bar top, the condensation pooling under her fingers causing her glass to slip, spilling the mojito all over herself.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, grabbing the tiny cocktail napkins from the counter and pressing them to her now soaked shirt.

“Here let me grab you some more napkins.” you say reaching over the bartop.

“Actually, want me to run up and grab you a dry shirt? I have a few spares.” you offer.

Her eyes flash over to yours, “Are you sure you don't mind?”

“No, not at all.” you say, standing a little too quickly, causing your head to spin.

“Actually, do you mind if I come with you? I’d love to be able to wash this off a little bit.” she asks.

“Uh, sure, no problem.” you say, leading the way.

She follows you into the elevator, her wet shirt clinging to her body, and you find that you’re having a hard time peeling your eyes away from her chest.

You swallow heavily as the doors open, and you let her walk out in front of you, telling her the room number as you make your way to the door. You tap your card to the lock, letting it open and guiding her inside.

“Bathroom is right there, use anything you need.” you offer, walking over to your suitcase looking for a shirt.

Finding the one you were looking for you turn around to see her stepping back out of the bathroom, but the wet shirt is gone, and she’s approaching you in just her bra.

Fuck…

You quickly turn around, trying to give her privacy, only to be met with a giggle from across the room.

“You don’t have to turn around Jake…I’m not shy…” she says.

“Just trying to give you some privacy.” you stammer.

“It’s just a bra, it’s not like I’m naked…” she laughs. “It’s okay, really. You can turn around. I know you want to…”

You press your lips together, biting them between your teeth as you turn to face her. She’s right. You do want to turn around. You hand her the t-shirt and like magnets, your eyes are drawn to her chest and the curve of her breasts spilling over her black bra.

She watches you as you take her in, finding your mind wandering to a place you least expected it to. She slides the shirt over her head, never breaking eye contact with you as you step closer to her.

“Well, how does it look?” she asks, stepping closer to you.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket as you slide your hands around her waist.

Her hands come to rest at the opening of your shirt, sliding up your chest and behind your neck.

“A perfect fit, I’d say. But I almost liked it better, off. ” you say, voice thick with lust.

She reaches down, grabbing the hem of the shirt, tossing it onto the bed behind you leaving her in just her bra in front of you.

Your thumbs circle the smooth skin of her stomach as she repositions herself in front of you, pulling your face closer to hers.

“Better?” she whispered against your lips.

“Yeah, I think so.” you answer confidently, pressing your lips to hers, tasting the mint from her mojitos on her lips. You pull away quickly, testing the waters before kissing her again, this time a little harder.

The kiss becomes more furious, your tongue tangling with hers as her hands wind into your hair. She steps backwards pulling you towards the bed, as you trail sloppy kisses down her neck and chest, pushing her towards the bed.

“Did you like the pictures I took of you tonight, Jake?” she asked, voice thick with lust.

“Mmmmhm…” you groaned, as she fell beneath you.

She falls backwards as you kneel over her, trailing kisses over the curve of her breasts.

“You looked so good. So sexy. I couldn’t stop…” she breathes.

She grabs your hand to place it over the cup of her bra, guiding you to grab at her curvy flesh. You return your mouth to hers, deepening the kiss, as your fingers slide the strap of her bra down her shoulder.

“Do you want to fuck me Jake?” she asks in a breathy tone.

Just as you go to answer her you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket again and you pull away from her and kneel on the bed, quickly looking to see who it was.

Shit.

You look back to Summer, waiting for you to return your lips to hers, and answer her question. Right then you felt a pang in your chest. What are you doing? You are making a huge mistake. You stand up from the bed, adjusting your pants as you open the message.

LD 12:03am : Hey, are you still up? Can we talk?

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you read it. No…Fuck. What shit timing.

Your eyes flick back to Summer. She has to leave, right now.

Leaning away from her, you push yourself up off of the bed, fixing your shirt and wiping your lips.

“I’m sorry, we can’t do this.” you say stepping back and pacing across the room.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“We work together, we can’t hook up. We shouldn’t have done this.” you answer.

“What’s the big deal Jake? It doesn’t have to turn into anything. No one has to know. Can be our little secret.” she smirks.

“No. It can’t. You’re here to do your job, and I am here to do mine. If you’re not capable of that, I will find someone else to do it.” you say sternly.

She sits up, pulling the t-shirt over her head, covering herself back up as she stands up from the bed. “Damn I guess Y/N was right…did you turn her down too?” she asks sarcastically.

“What?” you ask.

“Y/N told me not to bother with you, that you only cared about work. I thought she was just trying to scare me off… Guess she was right afterall. What a shame…” she says, grabbing her purse from the chair.

She does care…

“Summer, you are a beautiful girl but this just can’t happen between us. I really am sorry, okay? I don’t want to hurt your feelings, I just think we need to keep things professional for the sake of the tour.” you say, trying your best to calm the fire.

“Sure Jake…whatever you say… I’ll see you in the morning.” she says, shutting the door behind her.

Oh my god, what a nightmare.

How could you be so stupid? Worst of all you weren’t even enjoying it.

You open the message reading it again. ‘Can we talk?’ Your mind was reeling. You were in no shape to try and talk to her, even though that’s all you wanted to do. The scotch was still working its way through your system, and you knew she deserved more than your half drunk confession.

You needed to text her back. At least tell her you wanted to, just not tonight. You walked over to the mini bar, pulling out the only remaining bottles. Tequila.

You walked over to the door, flipping the lock and kicking off your shoes. You stripped down to your boxers and made your way into the bed, mini bottles in tow. You twisted the lid on the first tossing it down as you reopened the text. What should you say?

Typing in the message you hover over the send button, but quickly delete the thought. No. That’s not right.

You shoot down the next bottle and place it on the nightstand, turning off the lamp. You settle down into the pillows and push your hair from your face. Okay. Let’s try again.

The screen was starting to become blurry as the tequila entered your bloodstream. You were having a hard time focusing and you could feel the sleep creeping into your body. Your eyes began to close as your thumb hovered over the button.

Just send the message Jake.

Just hit send.

—

HER POV

The next morning, everyone began piling into the vans to head back home bright and early. Light chatter filled the cabin, everyone still feeling the effects of the long few days. Exhausted, you begin looking around to do another head count. It was starting to feel like you were a preschool teacher counting your students every 5 minutes.

Most of the crew was accounted for…but of course, only ¾ of the actual band members. “Where is Jake?” You asked, walking over to them standing by the door of the van.

“He’ll be here, you know how he is.” Josh said, not looking up from his phone. You glanced at the time, with a sigh.

“We don’t have time for that, we’re leaving in 15 minutes. I have to get the crew home, they have other places to be.” You spat, aggravated. You stood for another minute or two, and decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Fine. I will go get him myself.” you said, making your way back inside. Luckily, you hadn’t turned in the keycards to the front desk.

You make the trek up to his room, suddenly feeling anxious again as you approach the door. ‘Just use a key next time so I don’t have to get out of bed’ running through your mind.

Well, I need him to get out of bed. You pressed the key to the lock, hearing it release. You closed your eyes, and took a breath. You put just your face inside the door, trying not to look around.

“Jake? Hey… We gotta go, it’s time.” You said softly.

Silence.

You peeked inside a little more, seeing his hair splayed out on the bed. Still asleep, of course.

You decided to walk in a little further, closing the door softly behind you. He had his back to the door, laying on his side. His body was wrapped around two or three pillows and he was in nothing but his black boxers. Your chest tightened at the sight. It felt strange seeing him this way, asleep and completely vulnerable.

“Jake…” You tried again. Dead asleep.

You walked around the other side of the bed, still feeling like you were intruding, but also taking in the sight of him. You had always loved watching him sleep, his features even more relaxed than they usually were. His eyelids jumping back and forth while he dreamed, his lips parted slightly as he breathed. You wondered what he was dreaming about, secretly wishing it was you.

You would admit that you were upset that he didn’t text you back last night, but it was late, and he had to have been completely drained. But still you held out hope.

You came around to face his front, seeing that he still had his phone in his hand. He fell asleep reading my text? Maybe he had seen it? As you grabbed it from his hand you placed it on the nightstand, but it was then that you really took in the state of his room. Clothes everywhere, and tons of empty bottles lying scattered across the bedside table and floor. As realization hit you, your mood shifted leaving you angry and confused. What is wrong with him?

“JACOB!” You yelled, finally feeling bold enough to shake him physically on the arm. “Wake up! We’ve got to go!”

His eyes finally began to open as he woke up. When he saw that it was you waking him up, the smallest smile formed on his face, melting you into a puddle.

He finally opened his eyes all the way, and stretched his muscles, straightening his legs down the length of the bed revealing more of him than you ever thought you’d see this morning.

“Mmm” he groaned, his face stretching into a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you, but we’re running really late. I need you to get downstairs and loaded up.” you say.

His eyes widen, and he searches for his phone. “Shit, I’m sorry. I must’ve slept through my alarm.” He said, rolling off the other side of the bed and walking into the bathroom.

“You probably didn’t even set one, seeing as how you killed the mini bar again last night, hmm?” You said with bitterness in your voice.

He breathed a sigh of agitation, with himself or with you, you weren’t sure.

You gave him a second of privacy in the bathroom, and he stumbled back out into the room, holding his head.

“Hungover?” You asked, already knowing the answer. You could spot hungover Jake a mile away. Definitely.

“A little I suppose.” He spoke quietly, suddenly looking defeated.

“Jake, I know everything’s...not really…okay right now. You just went through a bad breakup and...nothing’s ideal but, you seem off, and it’s only the start of the tour. I don’t want to interject, but I...I really don’t like seeing you like this. We all need you to take care of yourself, you know? This thing doesn’t work without you.” You said, speaking in white lies, but needing something to get him to talk a little. After all, you didn’t get to last night.

He scoffed, picking up various items and throwing them in his suitcase while you stood watching. “Look, I had every intention of talking to you last night. But by the time you texted, I had already drank way too much…I was halfway asleep, and I…I don’t know. It felt...” he trailed off.

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for the rest.

He conceded, “I don’t really know it just felt like the wrong time. I was…” he stalled.

“Just one word, Jake. That’s all I need.” You spoke quietly.

He hesitated hard, until he finally spoke, “Scared, I guess? Nervous?”

You were lost for words. Why was he scared to talk to me? Had we really fallen that far away from each other?

Your eyes met his for a second and your heartbeat began to race. “I don’t know. We can…talk about it later? Can you…can you just help me throw some of this shit in my bag so we can get out of here?” He asked, still rushing around in slow motion.

You snapped away from your thoughts. “Yeah, sure.”

You began picking up various clothing items from the floor, and as you made your way around the bed, you spotted something that looked out of place. Is that? You picked up a woman’s shirt from the floor, holding it up to inspect it. Your gut sank. This is what Summer was wearing last night.

“This yours?” You asked, dangling the shirt from your finger.

He turned around to see you holding it up, and he immediately let his head fall back as he sighed. “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right.” You tossed the shirt onto the bed, and felt your head become fuzzy with rage. Was anything he just said true? “I guess I see why you were scared to come and talk to me last night.”

He slowly walks over to you, “No…Y/N, I swear it’s not what it-”

“It’s not what it looks like?” you say cutting him off. “Seeing your photographer’s shirt on your floor? I think it’s exactly what it looks like, Jake.” You were spitting fire towards him. You decided you needed to get out of that room as quickly as you could.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your night.” You said with your back turned to him. “We’re leaving here in five minutes, with or without you.” and with that, you slammed the door shut behind you.

JAKE POV

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Oh fuck, what did I do? Do I go after her? Do I let her go? What the fuck was I thinking?

You quickly shove everything into your suitcase, cursing yourself with every movement. God damnit I have fucked up.

Looking around the room to make sure you had everything you really took in the mess. The entire trash can was filled with mini bottles and they were scattered across every open surface. Shit. Maybe she was right. I do need to get my life together.

You won her heart once, you knew you could do it again, and that's exactly what you were going to do. You had to.

Quickly pulling on whatever clean clothes you could find you zipped your suitcase and were rushing out the door, and downstairs to the van.

As you made your way to the door, Josh threw it open and jumped out, helping you load your suitcase into the back.

“The fuck man?” he asks.

“Didn’t set an alarm. My mistake.” you answer.

“Well, all the good seats are taken, so you’re in the back with me now.” he says, closing the back door.

You slide into the van, eyes searching for Y/N, and finding her next to Sam in the middle row. She doesn’t look at you, or even acknowledge your presence, but you deserve it. You can’t even imagine what she’s thinking. As you settle into your seat you close your eyes trying to process the events of the morning. How it felt waking up to see her face. How normal it felt to have her there. How everything quickly shattered as she realized how messed up you were. How it got even worse when she found Summer’s shirt.

You wished you could go back. You wished you never went to the bar last night. If you had just waited, this morning could have been completely different…

“Hey Jake?” you hear the sound of Summer’s voice echo through the van. You were so lost in your head you didn’t even notice she was up front. Your heart sinks as you wait to hear what she has to say.

You flick your eyes up to meet hers, raising your eyebrow.

“Thanks for letting me borrow this last night.” she says, pulling the folded shirt from her bag. You practically stop breathing as you watch her hand it to Y/N. “Can you pass this back there?” she asks her.

She hesitates as she grabs the shirt, turning back to you in what felt like slow motion.

Your eyes met hers, pleading with her as she spoke, “From Summer.”

Your arms don't even move to grab it as you stare at her. The thoughts in your brain are moving a mile a minute and you can't seem to catch even one.

Josh grabs the shirt for you, throwing it into your lap. “Thanks.” he says, as Y/N turns back around, leaning her head on the van window.

Could things get any fucking worse? Why the fuck did she have to do that? Why couldn’t she just give it to me later?

God. Y/N…Her face…she probably thinks we–

Fuck, I have to text her.

You quickly pull your phone from your pocket, bringing up her name, and opening the thread. Shock pulsing through your body as you look at the message you typed out last night, as it waited to be sent.

I never hit send. Oh she fucking hates me… I will never be able to explain this to her now.

You look up into the rearview mirror hoping to catch her eyes, but all you see is her staring blankly out of the window. You can tell she is in her head.

You 8:27am: It looks bad. I know it looks so bad. I can explain everything. All of it. Can we please talk when we get back?

You look back up watching her in the mirror as she glances down at her phone reading the message. You see the little crease in her eyebrows as she reads. The pain setting into her features. She sets her phone down and turns back to the window.

Fuck.

You: 8:28am: Please don’t shut me out again.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you eagerly grab it hoping to see her name, but it's not her. It’s Josh.

Josh 8:29am: What the fuck did you do Jake?

You turned to look at him shaking your head as you replied.

You 8:30am: Made the biggest mistake of my life.

Josh 8:30am: Did you fuck her?

You 8:31am: Fuck no. Of course not. It just looks like it. Y/N wont answer me. I don’t know what to do.

Josh 8:32am: For once I don’t know what to tell you.

You 8:32am: Do you think I blew it?

You watch him type, before quickly deleting it. He locks his phone and places it on his knee, sending you a sympathetic look. You knew what he was going to say. You could practically hear it in your own head.

You reopen your thread with her, looking at your messages, marked as read. At least she is reading them. Taking a moment you collect your thoughts the best you can, giving it one last shot.

You 8:40am: I get it. I wouldn’t answer me either. But I want you to know that I fell asleep last night alone, thinking about you. Trying to text you back. I typed it over and over, but I couldn't get it right. I swear I’ve fallen asleep thinking about you every single night for the past 4 years, Y/N. Please, just give me a chance to explain.

You hit send delivering the message, and watching her in the rearview to see if she would read it. Lifting her head from the window you watch as her eyes look down, reading the message. You see her expression drop yet again, and her hand come up to her face trying to discreetly wipe away the tear slipping from her lash line. But you saw it. Even worse, you caused it.

You’re sure you felt your heart crack wide open at the sight. It was a pain you’d felt before. Similar to the day she left. A pain you swore you’d never let yourself feel again. But here you were, watching her in the rearview, begging for a chance to be hurt again. You’d rather be hurt by her, than not at all.

You could feel your own eyes welling with tears, and just as you were about to look away, her eyes met yours, bloodshot and full of tears. It was as if your world had momentarily stopped turning. You both sat there, eyes locked on each other, with not a word uttered between the two of you. Pure silence. The deafening kind.

You didn’t have to say anything. You both knew how this ended.

Chapter 11

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