#like so much of my life has been spent in airports and I love them so much and this is just some of the feels of that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mickandmusings · 2 months

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vi. 'tis the damn season

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: for the past six months, jake has spent every spare moment attempting to mend communication between he and honey. for months, he uses his phone calls to phone her, leave long voicemails, and writes her multiple letters a week. his efforts come with no avail, she never calls or writes him back. with christmas around the corner, jake makes his way back home to texas, but not before making an important stop along the way.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni!! (dirty talk, but no explicit descriptions); definite military inaccuracies; definite college inaccuracies; general angst; christmas story in august?

'Dear Honey,

I know this is the third or fourth letter this week, and I'm not even sure if you're receiving these, but I can't just not write to you. I left you another voicemail, and I'm not sure if you're listening to those either, but I have talked to you nearly everyday since we were nine, and, well, that's not a habit you break easily. I called you on your birthday last week and left a message, and I sent you a card, I hope you got them both.

Honey, I'm sorry. I'll say it in every voicemail and every letter until you believe me. I shouldn't have taken so long to tell you the truth. I regret it. If I could take it all back, you know I would. I didn't do it to hurt you, I never want to hurt you. But I know I did, and no words I could say or write will change that. I'm sorry. I'll say it over and over again until you understand how much I mean that.

I know you likely don't want to hear about my time here, but I've always told you everything. If you don't want to hear me talk about it, I thought you might read about it. I can't ever remember a time you weren't reading.

Life here is different. Not bad, just...hard. The weather is certainly cooler than the winters back home. We even got snow, true snow, not the shitty kind we get in Haven. It sticks to the ground, and you can actually play in it, not just bust your ass on ice and sleet. Things are always very routine and strict, but, considering it's a week til Christmas break, things are looking up. Honestly, I've never been more ready to go back home to Texas. Granny said she spoke to you about coming home for Christmas, since you missed Thanksgiving? I really hope you'll come around. I miss you, Honey. I haven't heard your voice since that voicemail you sent me in October. Look, you can stay at the other house, I'll set it up for you before you even get here. Or, I'll stay there, and you can have our my room. You don't even have to talk to me, just please come. Just seeing you would be enough.

My bunkmate, Javy, the one I've mentioned to you for the past few months, he's from New Orleans. He's coming home for Christmas, and he's going to drop me off at the airport there. I'll fly back to Austin from there, and Pawpaw will be there to pick me up. Sometimes, at night or when we have spare time, Javy tells me about his life back home in Louisiana. More often than not, it makes me think of you. They make me think of the birthday beignets you make for Pawpaw, and how you'd make us gumbo in the winter. Frankly, everything makes me think of you. Honey, I see you everywhere. There are these bushes outside Bancroft Hall, and they're full of these little white and red flowers. I'm not sure what they're called, but they're pretty, and I know you'd love them. There's a kid in one of my morning classes, and he's got your accent too. It's nice to hear, I haven't heard your voice in so long. I hope the Magnolia State is treating you well. I imagine you're much happier with your favorite flower all around you.

I don't have much else to tell you about. I'd like to tell you my other stories when we're face to face again. I just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I love you, always. Call me back or write to me whenever you get the chance, if you're feeling up to it.

All my love,

Jake'

Honey holds the paper tightly in her hands, letting it crinkle under the pressure of her grasp. If he'd sent this letter when they'd first split, she'd have balled it up or ripped it to pieces with her blinding, white-hot rage. She had been so angry when she'd first moved away, ignoring his incessant phone calls and numerous voicemails. She had let his letters pile up on her desk, unopened and unread. In the chance that he'd sent this letter just a few months later, she would have stained the ink of his letters with her tears. After her anger came a fierce sadness, one that seeped into her bones and left her incapacitated, ridden with the agony that threatened to pull her under like a rogue wave. But now, as she stares down at Jake's scratchy handwriting across the lined paper, she simply feels numb. His letter does not spark an onslaught of tears or suffocating sobs that leave her chest heaving. She simply folds the letter back up and slides it back into its envelope, placing it gently on her desktop, deciding to deal with it later, much like the emotions it evoked.

She knows she shouldn't, but she grabs the familiar orange sweatshirt that lives on her bed and throws it over her head. It comes to her knees and the sleeves are far too long, but it provides her with a comfort she almost wishes it didn't. In her tiny dorm room in Starkville, her small college town (although bigger than Haven,) she feels isolated. Her entire life for the past six months had simply been going-through-the-motions of life: wake up, go to class, come home, study, finish assignments, work a shift at her on-campus job, shower, repeat. Life had become monotonous, something that her life with Jake never was.

She knows she shouldn't wallow. She should try and get out, make more friends-more than just the lady at the circulation desk in the library-and try to enjoy her life at nineteen. But, once again, that gnawing, creeping feeling infiltrates her chest, Honey wasn't like her classmates. She wouldn't enjoy sitting in a bar or attending a frat party. She'd sit in the corner alone, nursing a drink she likely wouldn't finish, and leave with an Irish goodbye. Now, all she had was a sweatshirt that smelled faintly of the boy she once slept next to each night, and it was her only source of comfort.

Honey knows she should get up and call Mrs. Janet, to let her know that she's okay, and that she was settled. The last time she'd spoken to her or Mr. Jacob had been nearly two weeks ago. She should call Haley and Sarah Grace back, both of her hometown friends had been calling since they'd met up for the last time in October. She knows she should stop shutting those who loved her out-Jake included-but that was a different situation entirely.

Instead of doing any of the aforementioned, she simply sinks into her comforter and puts her headphones on, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. She was glad her roommate had left for her own home state, leaving her alone in the dorm room for the next two weeks. Deep down, Honey knew she was lying to herself. She yearned for the feeling of home, her true home, on a farm in Texas. She craved Mrs. Janet's cowboy cookies that she made at least two dozen too many of, and Mr. Jacob's Christmas ham that took hours to get just right, but was so worth it when it practically melted in her mouth. She missed sitting around a room full of the Seresin family, watching the children open new toys and heaps of candy. She'd laugh as they opened new clothes with sour faces, quickly ditching them for the next box in shiny wrapping. Their childlike joy made her own flare, leaving her chest warm as she giggled quietly in Jake's arms. She missed Jake sneaking them eggnog from the kitchen, and the babbling laughter they erupted into when they realized no matter how much older they got, it was always just as disgusting as the first time he'd snuck it when they were thirteen. Mostly, she missed the warm, peaceful feeling she felt when she was in a room full of people she loved most. In a bout of honesty, she admits that maybe, just maybe, she just missed Jake.

Through her headphones, she can hear the rain patter against her window, and she sighs, the weather only adding to her melancholy mood. Honey knew if she chose to rot in bed, her emotions would only grow heavier, so with a deep sigh, she rolls out of bed and slides on her worn sneakers. She takes off Jake's Longhorns hoodie and swaps it for her own, tosses the hood over her head, and grabs the keys to Jake's truck. She grabs her finished library books to return, and her wallet, deciding to wallow in the secluded section of the library instead. She walks out of her dorm room, locks the door, and takes the stairs down to the lobby. She pushes the door open and heads out into the rain.

Honey would never make it to the library that day.

Two weeks prior...

"You scribblin' away for that girl again, Seresin?"

Javy's voice fills Jake's ears, and Jake doesn't bother looking up as he shoots his roommate a middle finger salute. Javy laughs at the action before climbing into his top bunk, leaning his head against his pillow. There's silence between the two before Javy's voice cuts through again.

"So when are you gonna tell me about her?"

From the second that Javy had met Jake, it seemed like something was weighing his bunkmate down. It wasn't until a week or so later, when they both were calling home, that Javy learned it wasn't something, it was someone. Jake kept information about his girl on lock, so Javy knew little information: her name was Honey, which Javy found odd, but brushed it off. She was studying English at a college in Mississippi, and Jake had, somehow, royally fucked things up with her before he'd come to the Academy.

Jake sighs, stopping his writing as he looks up at his friend on the top bunk.

"If I tell you, will you shut up for ten minutes so I can write?"

Javy nods, his brown eyes sparkling with a stream of questions he'd been burning to ask.

"Fine, what'dya want to know?"

Javy is quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, as if pondering something.

"What's she like? Wait! No, let me guess! She was a cheerleader, pretty little thing, prom queen, the whole nine-yards to your little All-American thing."

Jake lets out a laugh, thinking of Honey as he shakes his head.

"You couldn't be more wrong. Except the pretty part, she-she's gorgeous."

"Really?" Javy sits up and leans over the metal railing of the bunk. "What? Is she like some metal chick with the eyeliner?"

Javy motions around his eye to emphasize his point.

Jake's eyes widened, continuing to shake his head.

"Definitely not."

"Then what's she like? C'mon man, you gotta give me something! You're always callin' her and writin' her, and I never see you get a response. She got you under Love Potion Number Nine or something? She do the whole magic thing? Can't trust that man."

"No, no, she's not like that. She's-," Jake pauses, trying to find the most accurate words to describe Honey. "She's quiet, shy, she's practically the opposite of me. She likes to read, a lot. I don't think there's ever been a time in our lives when she didn't have a book in her hand. She's kind, never lacking patience when it comes to all of my bullshit. And smart, ridiculously so, she's the smartest person I know. Honey is...witty, and funny, she's got this sarcastic sense of humor that you'd never expect from her. W-We've been friends since we were kids. We started datin' in high school, and we had this fight before I came here, and, obviously, she's still mad about it, so...yeah."

Javy notes the glimmer in Jake's eyes as he talks about his girlfriend, a small smile forming across his lips. Javy hadn't known Jake for more than six months, but this was probably the happiest he'd seen his bunkmate. Javy shrugs, giving his friend another incredulous look.

"So what are you gonna do about it, Seresin?"

Jake's jade eyes look up at him, his letter finished but suddenly forgotten.

"What do you mean? She obviously doesn't want to speak to me. The only time she's spoken to me in six months is when she left me a drunk voicemail on Halloween, saying how I made her cry. What am I supposed to do with that? If she saw me, she'd probably knock my lights out."

Javy shrugs. "But do you love her?"

Jake looks down at his well-kept shoes.

"More than she'll ever know."

"You said she's studying in Starkville? You think she's going back to Texas for Christmas?"

"It's unlikely," Jake responds, his voice somber at the admission. "Why?"

"Well," Javy props back onto his pillow, his hands tucked under his head. "I'm driving back home for Christmas, passin' right through Mississippi. It sounds like if you messed this up, you need to be the one to fix it. Show her you haven't given up, and you want her back. If you surprise her, maybe she'll give you a chance to explain yourself."

Jake's heart hammers in his chest, his friend's plan wasn't entirely bad. Jake looks up at his bunkmate, his face set in a knowing look.

"Honey hates surprises."

"And you hate living without her, which one will be worse: her temporary anger, or never speakin' to her again?"

Jake sighs, he hates that Javy was right. Maybe it was a stupid idea, cancelling his flight back home from Austin, tagging along on a road trip with Javy to get the love of his life back. But, a week later, Jake's duffel was slung into the backseat of Javy's car haphazardly as he rode shotgun, giving his friend directions toward a small Mississippi town.

Now, Honey makes her way across the rainy parking lot. Through her blurry eyesight, she quickly finds Jake's truck in the nearly empty parking lot. She fishes the key from the bundle of keys in her hand, sliding it into the key slot on the door and unlocking the door. Before she could remove the key and pop open the door, Honey hears a voice call out her name. She pauses, and for a split second, she thinks she hears Jake's voice. She shakes her head, pulling at the driver's side door. It was often shut too hard, and she had to pull with a good portion of her strength to get it to open. As she tugs on the handle, she hears it again, her name in Jake's voice. She tugs harder, thinking she was finally losing her mind.

"Honey, wait!"

The footsteps behind her alert her that the voice she had been hearing likely wasn't just a hallucination. She turns abruptly, and her heart stops in her chest. There, standing before her in a rain-soaked Navy sweatshirt and jeans, his significantly shorter blonde locks plastered against his forehead, was one Jake Seresin. Honey's eyes widened in shock, the breath in her chest growing short and ragged. She pulls her books closer to her chest, an action of both shock and keeping them as dry as possible. Her eyes dart back and forth between his own. She's quiet for a moment, rendered completely speechless.

"Jake?!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?! You-You're supposed to be on a plane to Austin right now!"

Jake stands in front of her, motionless, as his eyes take her in completely. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and he simply wanted to peer at her forever. She hadn't changed much, she was still shorter than him in stature, still an avid reader by the small pile of books she'd finally tossed onto the truck seat, but her eyes didn't quite shine like they once had. Jake's heart hammered in his chest, staring at the girl he loved standing in front of him in the pouring rain, arms crossed over her chest, shivering in the cold.

"Jake, hey?!" She waves her hand in front of his face, attempting to gain his attention. "What are you doing here?!"

Honey's voice is loud enough to hear over the rain pelting around them both. Her eyes are wide as he looks down at her, his hands itch to touch her, but he keeps them at his side. He takes another look into her eyes, and he simply loses every ounce of control he has. He takes a step forward towards her, his hands come to rest on either side of her face. Honey wants to knock his hands away, she wants to let her anger simmer forever, but the warmth of his calloused touch provides her with a comfort she hadn't felt in so long. If it had not been raining so fiercely, both halves of the pair would realize the tears running down one another's face. He's silent for a long moment, simply taking in her face for the first time in months.

"Honey, I-I fucked up," Jake starts, his voice trembling with a flurry of emotions. "Honey, I fucked up so, so bad."

He pauses, allowing the rain to soak through both their clothes, his thumb brushing carefully against her cheek. His bottom lip trembles, his hands beginning to shake against her face. Honey says nothing, only braving a look into his green eyes darkening with tears.

"I-I've apologized a thousand times over the past six months and it's not enough. It'll never be enough, because knowin' I hurt you?" He pauses and shakes his head with his lips pressed into a fine line, effectively keeping him from bursting into sobs. "Honey, that shit has ripped me to shreds everyday since you left. I-I never meant to hurt you, ever. I'll spend the rest of my life apologizin' to you if that's what you want." His eyes bore into her own, his breaths shaky.

"I'll spend the rest of my life on hands and knees, grovelin' if that's what you want. A-And if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again, I-I'll do it. Just-just know that all of me-body, heart, soul, everything I am-it belongs to you. If you've decided that you're movin' on, and you want to do everythin' we planned with someone else, I won't try to stop it. But, you have to know somethin', and I need you to understand that it doesn't matter if you move to Canada, o-or you stay here, or you move back to Haven, my heart forever sits in your hands. It's yours, forever, whether I have yours or not. That house on my grandparent's farm? I fixed it for you, it's yours. This truck? It's yours, take it. Honey, you can have whatever you want, I'll buy you whatever you want, I'll make it if I can't buy it. Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. Whatever it is, baby, it's yours."

His chest moves quickly with his rapid breaths, his hands shaking from his contained emotions. Honey simply looks at him, still a bit shocked that he's standing in front of her. If she wasn't overwhelmed by the landslide of apologies he'd just spouted, she'd have given him her own back. Instead, she stands a bit still, her chest just as heavy as his. He mistakes her silence as rejection, and his face falls as he gives a subtle nod of his head. His hands move from her face, and, in that split second, Honey is shocked into action. She wouldn't lose him again, she couldn't lose him again. In one quick swoop, she grabs the wrists of his sweatshirt, pulling his attention back to her. She speaks a tad louder than her normal tone, ensuring he would hear her over the pelting rain.

"You, all I want is you. That-That's all I've ever wanted, Jake!"

He catches a glimpse of her face, her cheeks pink as she shivers, but her eyes, they were the same love-filled gaze he'd remembered. He wanted to begin another string of apologies, to assure her that he meant everything he said, but he never got the chance. In an action almost completely out of nature for the shy girl he knew, her arms were around his neck, pulling his lips towards hers in a heated passion. He wasted no time in indulging in the action, his hands coming to her hips, lifting her a bit higher to deepen the kiss. The sweet kiss quickly turns to a clash of teeth and heated movements, and Jake quickly hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if it were muscle memory.

From his car across the lot, Javy shakes his head and smiles as the two embrace one another. He cranks his car back up, backs out of the parking spot and turns back onto the main road. He shakes his head as he thinks of his friend, mumbling to himself as he drives:

"Tis the damn season, Seresin, you lucky dog."

Back at the school, it only takes a split second for the couple's kiss to grow a bit too intense for the parking lot setting, and, without thinking, Jake pulls her through the lobby's double doors and into the elevator, where the two finally break apart for a split second.

"J-Jake, I-I never should've left like that, I-,"

She doesn't get to finish, Jake's lips are back on hers, this time with more fervor than before. Honey shudders, with both the cold from her wet clothes and the heat building in her torso. They break apart as the elevator dings, and Honey is pulling Jake by the hand back to her dorm. She all but shoves him inside, locking the door behind her. Jake wastes no time in crossing back to her, slowly pulling off the hood of her hoodie, his eyes widening when he glances at her mostly dry hair.

"Y-Your hair, it's...shorter."

She chuckles. "Yeah, I just needed a change...you're one to talk, J, I've never seen your hair that short."

He pulls her in closer by her hips, lifting the soaked hoodie over her head as he speaks.

"Yeah, well, plebe summer wasn't my best look, you're just lucky you missed me bald, baby."

Even in the dim light of the dorm room, Jake notes the darkening look of her gaze, her lids growing heavier with desire. Honey's hand comes to the short hair growing on the nape of his neck, her head cocking to the side as she threads her fingers through the new growth, a look on her face he can't quite place. He pulls her flush against him, attempting to read her look.

"Hm, yeah," she starts. "I'm real glad I missed that part. Y'know, why?"

The girl below him moves to kiss the underside of his jaw, making his hands tighten on the grip he has on her hips.

"Why's that, baby?"

Honey's lips move to his neck, his hands slipping past her hips and to the round of her bottom. Above all else, Jake Seresin had been raised to be a Southern gentleman, but his resolve was slipping.

"Because," Honey starts, her accent slipping through, causing the heat in Jake's lower half to grow unbearable as her lips continue their course down his skin. "I like havin' somethin' to hold onto when you're between my thighs."

Long gone was Honey's shy demeanor, and long gone was Jake's gentlemanly resolution. Without a word, he's tossing his own damp sweatshirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with her own. Honey has ditched her drenched shirt and sweatpants, now standing nearly bare between Jake's arms. Without a second of hesitation, Jake pulls her onto the ridiculously small bed, but he pays it no mind, more focused on the grinning girl beneath him. He kisses her lips passionately, his hands resting on her bare thighs. His own heart hammers, and, as he kisses down Honey's neck, he can feel her own beating just as loudly. He pulls away, tossing off his damp jeans to the floor. He looks down at her almost bare frame, his emerald eys heavy with lust, but his voice is cased in affection.

"If this is what you want, that's certainly fine with me, but I need to hear you say it, baby."

Honey looks up at Jake's kind but intense gaze, her heart slowing a bit.

"After that whole The Notebook-esque apology you pulled, yes, I want this."

She nods in confirmation, and Jake wastes no time in attaching his lips back to hers. Honey's hands fly back to his hair, her fingers digging into his locks. Jake's hands come to her torso, carefully sliding off the clothing constricting her chest and tossing it onto the floor. He pauses for a brief moment, staring down as he hovers over her. Honey looks up at him, her head cocking to the side.

"Jake? Hey, what's the matter?"

Jake's mind is in overdrive, and he simply feels the urge to stop and stare at her. She's bare before him, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with affection. Jake swallows thickly as he pushes hair out of her face.

"Honey, you-you're beautiful. I am the luckiest man on fuckin' Earth, baby."

Honey blushes at his compliment, pulling him back in with a heated kiss.

"You're such a smooth talker, Seresin...but right now, I need you to use that mouth of yours for somethin' other than talkin'."

Jake grins from ear to ear, the usual smirk she's used to seeing painted across his face. His thumb brushes against the fabric adorning her hip, gently pushing it down. He tosses them to the floor along with the other clothes they'd shed, and nudges his way in between her legs. Heat fills the space between them completely as he speaks:

"Yes ma'am."

Hours later, in the late hours of the night, Honey is woken by the vibrating of something nearby. Jake-who has her pressed into his chest with the strength of a bear-doesn't budge. Honey, ever the light sleeper, groans, lightly tapping Jake's shoulders. His body moves, but he simply curls back into their shared pillow. She shoves him again, a little harder this time as she speaks.

"Jake," Her words receive no response, so she speaks again. "Jake!"

It's Jake's turn to groan, his arms pulling her closer to his bare chest.

"Hm? What is it, baby?"

Honey's lack-of-sleep induced annoyance fades at the nickname she so adores.

"Your phone is ringing."

Jake groans again, slipping out from under the blush pink sheets and searching for his phone that he assumed was still lodged into his jean pocket. Honey opts to glance at his newly toned arms and strong, broad shoulders, his time training in Maryland obviously having physical gain. He hits the button on the screen, not bothering to look at the caller ID, and speaks:

"Hello?"

"Jacob Thomas! Where the hell are you?!" His grandfather's voice fills his ears, and Jake pales. Shit. He had completely forgotten to tell his grandparents about his detour. "I've been sitting at the airport for three hours, son!"

"Pawpaw, I-I'm sorry, Javy just decided to take me all the way back to-" He's cut off abruptly.

"Look, that's fine, but you could've called. Your grandmother's callin' and she's pissed, son. Just get home, alright? Preferably sometime before Christmas Eve? She's already distraught about Honey not comin' around, so, the sooner the better. Heard?"

"Loud and clear."

"Alright, well, I love you, kid. Be careful."

"Love you too."

Jake hangs up the phone, crawling back into Honey's sheets and pulling her back into his arms. Honey's nose burrows into the crook of his neck, Jake's warm skin against her own far warmer than any blanket she owned. Jake's hand ghosted against her side, the other threading through her hair. His voice is low and soft as he speaks:

"How do you feel about Christmas in Texas?"

Honey's eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend with a shy smile, completely retreating back into her usual quiet self, a stark difference from the heated confidence that had run through her only hours before. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, a wide grin on her face as she buries herself back into his neck, his toned arms pulling her in tightly.

"I don't know if they'd even want me there, I should've called Mrs. Janet back, haven't responded in like two weeks."

Jake scoffs, pushing back a hair from her face.

"Don't even think like that. They're gonna be more excited to see you than me."

"Guess we'll find out." Honey pushes up from her spot next to Jake, sliding out of bed and slipping on new clothes before packing a small bag for the road. Jake watches from the bed, a smile across his face. He rests his hands behind his head, his blonde locks tossed about from their rendezvous. Honey turns to him once she's dressed.

"Are you gonna show up like that? Not that I mind this look, but your grandmother might have some issues with it." She laughs lightly, tossing him his now dry shirt. "You might want to get dressed, babe."

Honey stills and grows red when the nickname falls from her lips without any thought. She turns to Jake, his eyebrow furrowed humorously at the nickname, his right pointer finger beckons her closer. She stands next to him beside the bed, his hand pulling her in by the waist.

"Where did that come from?"

"I-I don't know," she admits bashfully. "B-But if you don't like it-"

"Baby, I more than liked it."

He pulls her closer, plopping her back into the sheets with him. She practically rests completely atop him. His hands move to pull up her shirt, his hands resting on her now bare waist. She makes note of his gaze darkening as he looks down at her, his arousal evident against her leg.

"Jake," her voice is a whisper. "We should really get on the road."

Jake smirks, his lips now kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.

"I'll get up as soon as you do."

Unable to resist one another, they were nearly another two hours before they got back on the road. After those hours and a ridiculously long drive back home to Haven, Honey now rested comfortably in the passenger side of Jake's her truck, Jake's thumb rubbing against her thigh. Both of them were incredibly tired from the prolonged trip, and more than ready to collapse into his childhood bed they'd shared for years. As Jake turned onto Seresin Farm Road, Honey felt her nerves kick in. Despite her excitement to return to the home that had nurtured her, she worried that she was going to be a burden for Janet and Jacob. She hadn't told either of them that she'd be coming home, and Jake hadn't either. She slid closer in the seat to Jake, her head resting on his arm. He looks down at her as they pass one of the many fields on the property.

"You alright, baby? You're lookin' a little out of it."

"M'fine, just nervous."

Jake's eyes cut down at her. "Nervous?"

"It's stupid, I know. I just, didn't tell anyone I was coming, and I don't want to be a burden to your grandparents."

"Honey, you're family. You don't have to let us know you're comin'."

Honey smiles, her nerves fading as the house comes into view. Jake parks the truck, the backwards baseball cap over his head covering his short, blonde locks completely. He cuts her a sly grin, a look of mischief drawn across his face.

"Want to really surprise them?"

Honey cocks her head, puzzled. Jake simply kisses her cheek and hops out of the truck, moving to open the door on her side. He comes to the front door, opening it and promptly hiding Honey behind his taller frame. He comes to the entrance of the kitchen, raising his finger to his lips as he leaves her only a few feet away in the foyer. She can hear his boots against the hardwood as he walks.

"Hey," he speaks simply, both Janet and Jacob Sr.'s eyes cutting to their grandson standing in their doorway.

"Jacob! You scared the devil outta me! Get over here!" Janet shuffles the towering young man into a hug after lightly chastising him.

"Sorry I'm late," Jake's voice is muffled against his grandmother's neck. "Had to make a detour and pick up a little surprise for you."

His grandmother pulls away, her eyebrows furrowed as she gives the blonde a questioning look. "Surprise?"

Jake sends her a blinding smile. He pokes his head around the corner, beckoning Honey forward with his pointer finger. Honey shakes her head as she approaches, and Jake slings his arm around her shoulder.

"Hi," Honey speaks quietly. Janet and Jacob Sr. both turn, smiles painting across their faces.

"Honey! Oh my, sweet girl, you did surprise us!" Janet's voice is bubbly as she shuffles over to her grandson's girlfriend, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh! And look at that hair, it's just darlin' on you!"

Honey feels her heart hammer, and she has to swallow down her tears as the older woman embraces her. Jake's grandfather follows suit, and Honey can no longer stop the tears rolling down her face. Janet wipes them away with the back of her hand.

"You alright there, Hon?" Jacob Sr. fills her ears. Honey nods through her tears, crossing the kitchen back to Jake's arms. He pulls her close, kissing the crown of her head as her tears stain his shirt. Janet's eyes gleam as she sees the two being affectionate again. She had been so worried about them both being apart for so long.

"I'm fine, promise." Honey's voice wobbles slightly. "I'm just really, really happy to be home. I didn't want to be a burden, but, I-I've really missed you guys."

"Oh nonsense! I promise we're happy to have you home, sweetheart." Janet's own face wobbles with emotion. "Now, c'mon, I'm glad I waited to make desserts, now I've got double the help."

She shuffles her bowls of ingredients around on the counter and Honey pulls away from Jake, more than happy to lend a hand with making sweets. Jake slips out of the kitchen to allow them to share their moment, and finds himself lounging next to his grandfather in the living room.

The graying man peers up at him over his glasses, giving him a satisfied look.

"Smart move there, son."

Jake directs his eyes from the black and white film on the TV to his grandfather.

"What do you mean?"

"Bringin' Honey home, makin' things right with her. Me and your Granny learned real quick this place doesn't feel the same when you two aren't around."

Jake smiles, shocked by the amount of emotion behind his usually stoic grandfather's words. The older man only gives him a hint of a smile before focusing on his western movie again. Jake listens as he hears Honey's laughter from the kitchen, and for the first time in six months, he feels content. Exhausted from hours of driving and he and Honey's activities in her dorm, he falls asleep on the couch.

Later, after Honey and Janet have finished their baking for the night, Honey spots Jake sprawled across the sofa, his boots and hat abandoned at the end. She covers him up with the blanket that rests behind him, placing a kiss on his forehead. She hadn't intended to wake him, but his eyes popped open. He's not fully awake, still a little bleary eyed as his hands fumble for her torso.

"C'mon, J, you're tired. Let's go to bed."

"Hm, lead the way, baby."

That night, Jake sleeps with Honey under his chin, tucked comfortably into his hold as tightly as possible. He dreams of Honey vividly-although mundane and simple, his dreams are a comfort: them sitting placidly with one another as she reads and he looks on as her voice fills his ears. For the first time in nearly six months, both of them slept peacefully and deeply, in a way they never could without sleeping next to one another. Tomorrow, when the Texas sun blares through Jake's thin curtains, they'll both be thrown headfirst into holiday preparations. But tonight, under the same roof where their story had ended, it begins again: Honey, in Jake's arms, sleeping content and comfortable in the bedroom up the stairs.

taglist:

@djs8891

@unattainablesillygoose

@psuedochakra

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@mrsevans90

@86laura11

@cmiguelbilinski

*if you asked me/want to be on the taglist and you weren't tagged, pls message me, i would love to add you!!

#jake hangman seresin #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #top gun hangman #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman fic #hangman & honey

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gretavangroupie · 3 months

Text

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 8)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader, Jake Kiszka, x OC

Word Count: 23.0k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Manipulation, Sexual Themes, Crying. Smut: Kissing, Fingering, Oral F!Recieving, Oral M!Receiving, Protected Sex, Unprotected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

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

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We made this one extra long for you as a thank you for your patience.

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

HER POV

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Isla coos. “I have heard all about you.”

She what?

“About me?” you ask, a little taken aback.

She grins and shrugs, dropping your hand as she eyes you, “Oh you know, just things…Little snippets here and there. You’ve made quite a name for yourself in this little circle of ours.”

You look over to Jake who is looking at you with a pleading expression. He knows he’s been caught. You quickly turn your attention back to Isla and swallow down your nerve, “Any impression I’ve made has been unintentional.”

She lets out a laugh that borders on the edge of fake, “Oh of course it was, love. You strike me as just the type that stumbles into leaving a lasting impression.”

You give her a fake smile, pretending that her subtle jab didn’t affect you, “Maybe so. Really was so nice to meet you, but I have a few things I need to deal with before we leave,” you say, nodding to her and resettling your purse on your shoulder.

Her fake smile never falters, “Ah, yes. Duty calls I suppose.” She turns to glance at Jake who is standing frozen next to her, refusing to pay her any mind. Her jaw hardens as you walk away, noticing that Jake’s eyes seem to be fixated on you instead of her.

You make your way over to Murph, pulling your suitcase behind you, hoping no one can see the steam pouring from your ears. As you step up next to him, he cuts his conversation with Dean short, turning to look at you.

“Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?” he asks, looking over your shoulder towards the group you just left.

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” you lie, taking a deep breath.

His brow furrows as he studies your face, squeezing your bicep in a reassuring gesture. You can tell that he knows you’re lying, but he knows better than to press for more.

Thankfully the transport vans arrive outside, and the dizzying situation at hand seems to fade away in the chaos of getting to the airport. You were thankful to be in the crew van, as far away as possible from Jake and Isla. You spent most of the ride combing through your email and catching up on texts you’d ignored the past few days, and before you knew it you had arrived at Departures.

As you made your way through security you noticed Jake’s eyes on you. You noticed again at the coffee stand. Then again as you tried to read your book at your boarding gate. You refused to look his way, but you could feel his eyes on you. You knew he wanted to talk, but you wanted to hear nothing that he had to say. You wonder why he is so focused on you when Isla is sitting next to him. Shouldn’t he be more concerned with her? You continue to ignore him, pretending to read the words on the pages in front of you, and letting your mind race with thoughts of Murph. Murph who just so happened to be peeking up at you over the edge of his phone. A smile graced your lips for the first time today as you saw him raise his brows, a silent ‘hello’.

By stroke of luck you found yourself seated in the row with Josh and Ty, both of them offering you the window seat instead of the aisle. A wave of relief washes over you as you chat with Ty, everything about him making you feel at home. You laugh at almost everything he says, and you can see why Josh loves him so much. As you lean forward to grab your phone from your bag you notice Murph sitting across the aisle, his leg crossed over his knee as he scrolls through his phone, looking up just in time to catch you staring. He sends you a playful wink as you sit back and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“So,” Ty says, raising a brow. You know what he wants to talk about, the two of you have been dancing around the subject for the last hour.

“So…” you continue, pretending to be unaffected.

He turns to look over his shoulder just slightly, noticing Jake and Isla seated directly behind you. “So, lovely weather we got this morning…”

“Mmhmm…” you hum, tossing your hair over your shoulder. You grab your phone and pull up Ty’s contact, quickly typing into the box.

You

10:06AM: I feel like this is safer

10:06AM: It is, I know she is totally listening to every word we are saying

You

10:07AM: I had no idea

10:07AM: None of us did

10:08AM: Actually, I bet the bitches did

You

10:08AM: The bitches?! I thought we liked them?

10:09AM: We do, away from her. With her… Nightmare.

10:10AM: They totally planned this. Did you see them snickering when you walked up?

You

10:10AM: Yeah, sort of, I was a little caught off guard and didn’t know who to look at first lol

You can hear a shrill laugh from behind you, causing your skin to crawl as Ty shoots you an annoyed look. At this point she has thrown every compliment in the book at Jake, and you’ve heard nothing but one word mumbles come from him.

10:11AM: Gag me, she is so fake

You

10:12AM: She really doesn’t strike me as Jake’s type.

10:12AM: She’s not

You

10:13AM: How do you know?

10:14AM: Honey, I’m dating his twin

You

10:14AM: Fair point lol

“Hey, I have to pee, can I get out?” you ask, finally speaking again.

“Sure, sure,” Josh says, letting you slide out of the seat and into the aisle, making your way to the lavatory at the back of the plane.

As you lock yourself into the tiny box you let out a sigh, quickly relieving yourself and washing your hands as you look at your appearance in the tiny bathroom mirror. You fix your hair a bit and straighten your shirt before unlocking the door to make your way back to your seat. However, when you open it, you’re face to face with Jake.

You meet his eyes, quickly snapping them away.

“Y/N, please, just two seconds,” he pleads, pulling his hands from his pockets.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you begrudgingly look at him, watching his face soften as you meet his eyes.

“I didn’t know. You have to believe me,” he begs, stepping a little closer.

You shake your head, not believing it for a second, “I don’t know, Jake.”

“Please, I swear,” he adds, his hand coming up to graze your arm. You pull away quickly in rejection, watching his hand fall back to his side.

“Can we talk later? Please, just give me ten minutes,” he asks.

You shake your head, “I think you’re going to be occupied later, Jake.”

You push past him and make your way back to your seat, refusing to cave to the voice in your head that is telling you to look over your shoulder. You hate this. You hate that you want to believe him, and you hate that after everything he told you last night, she showed up this morning.

You slide back into your seat with a huff, hearing Isla chatting with Mia next to her and rolling your eyes.

“You good, babe?” Ty asks, turning to look at you.

You give him a fake smile, “Oh, never better!”

You pull your book from your bag and open it with a sigh. A few minutes later you hear Jake returning to his seat and the grating sound of Isla’s voice as she speaks.

“What took you so long?”

—

JAKE POV

Your lips are pressed tightly together as you settle back into your seat, Isla’s words chipping away at you.

“What took me so long?” you repeat, clearly annoyed, “There was someone else in there Isla, I had to wait.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the first class bathroom?” she asks, cutting her eyes at you.

You just shake your head at her knowing you aren’t even going to answer. Sure, you could have gone to the first class bathroom, but you saw your chance and you knew you had to take it. You didn’t know if or when you’d get Y/N alone for two seconds without Isla around.

Those two seconds, however, proved to be useless. She refused to hear you out and after Isla’s little display in the hotel lobby earlier, you didn’t blame her. It was the perfect storm, really.

You’d talked last night. You told her everything. The truth. You felt content sliding into your bed last night, hopeful for what the next coming days would bring with Y/N. It was as you grabbed for your phone to check the playlist that you heard the knock on your door. You hoped it was her, desperate to be with you as much as you wanted to be with her, but when you opened the door it was the last person you expected to see.

It took all of two seconds for your heart to ice over again, just the sight of Isla, causing your body to fill with anxiety and dread. Why was she here? How did she get here?

Her voice was overly sweet as she pushed her way into your room, greeting you with that stupid nickname she tried to force on you. Zero explanation was offered as you let the door swing closed behind her. She made quick work occupying your space and throwing herself down onto your bed. Your eyes flashed over to your phone on the nightstand, hoping she would pay no mind to it as it sat open on your messages.

“What–what are you doing here Isla?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What do you mean?” she asks, sitting up on her elbows.

“What do I mea– Isla! We are on a break!” you answer, raising your voice just a touch. “You are not supposed to be here!”

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah, but did you really think I was going to miss our anniversary?”

“Anniversary of what? We are done Isla, I told you I am done.”

“You always say that,” she scoffs.

“Yeah, because it’s true! What aren’t you getting?” you growl, “Just how long are you planning on being here? I’m working Isla, this isn’t fucking playtime,” you snap. “We are leaving first thing tomorrow to catch a flight to Manchester”

“I don’t see what the big deal is Jakey, I’m just staying in your room. Mia and Lyla helped me figure out all the flights and everything. I have a ticket for tomorrow. I thought you would be happy to see me.”

You rub your hand over your face, doing your very best not to explode, “Isla, no. No. This is not okay. You know this is not okay.”

“You’re overreacting, everything is fine. I’m only gonna be here for like a week. Think about all the trouble we can get into for a week.” she grins, trying her best to tempt you.

“No. No, I’m not thinking anything like that. I’m thinking that I was going to bed and you just woke me up. I’m thinking that you shouldn’t be here, and you know it.” you seethe.

And she did know it. She knew it as you slid back into the bed without another word. She knew it when she woke the next morning to your alarm blaring, and she knew it when you refused to look at her as you packed your suitcase and headed downstairs. Her disgusting display of possessive jealousy in the lobby left you dumbfounded. All you could do was stare at Y/N, praying her mind wasn’t jumping to the worst, though you could tell by the look on her face that it already had. You knew that every single thing you told her last night, every painful truth, was now all a lie in her mind.

So now, as you sit here in the seat behind her on this airplane, with your borderline psychotic ex-girlfriend nit picking your every move, you wonder how you will fix this. Or if there even is a way to fix it, now.

The flight landed shortly after your mental spiral, and thankfully you were being bussed straight to the venue for a soundcheck. The girls and staff were ushered to the hotel, dropping your belongings off before heading to the venue. You were happy to have a few minutes alone without Isla. You wished you could just send her home. Maybe you would. But could you?

The four of you were in the van on the way to the venue, going over the setlist and a few notes from the night prior, laughing and joking as the city passed through the van windows. That’s when it hit you.

You snapped your head to Sam and Daniel, cutting your eyes at them in realization. “You know, your fucking girlfriends did this.”

“Huh?” Danny answers, focusing on you. “Mia?”

“Yeah, fucking Mia and Lyla. They conspired to fly Isla out here for an entire fucking week. Got her tickets and shit. Unbelievable.”

“You didn’t know?” Sam asks, tilting his head to the side.

“Obviously not, Samuel.” you snap. “I don’t fucking want her here. I don’t want her at all! She just does not seem to get that. She is ruining everything.”

The van goes silent, everyone ducking their heads in an effort not to look at you, an awkwardness filling the air in the van as you pull up at the back entrance of the venue. As the four of you make your way inside, you know it is only a matter of time before you see Y/N, rushing through the halls with bags of food and drinks. You want to tell her everything, if you could just explain you think she would understand. But you know how it looks from the outside and you probably wouldn’t want to hear you out either.

You would talk to her tonight. You had to.

—

HER POV

Paul

9:06AM: Rider for the day is in your email! Should be an easy store trip! Thanks

You shove your phone back in your pocket as you step out of the security meeting, wondering why Paul couldn’t have just said that face to face five minutes ago. Alas, you know he has three hundred things on his mind, so him thinking of you at all is a feat. You open your email and find today’s rider, reading off the same old same old items as your eyes scan down the page. Flashbacks of yesterday morning keep littering your brain, but you decide to force them back, burying yourself in your work like you always do.

Isla’s face when she realized who you were… Jake’s expression as he watched the interaction… the feeling of tension so thick you could cut it with a knife as everyone else stood so still you’d think you were statues in a museum. It all felt horrible. It all felt so embarrassing. But, none of it is your fault. You didn’t see this coming.

Though you’d tried to downplay all of the emotion boiling up inside of you for the past couple of days, you set it aside, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before it all comes boiling up, waiting to spit and spatter its way out of you in what would most likely be a very ugly scene.

You didn’t need to order an Uber for the ride home from the store; the proximity was actually fairly close to the venue, and you were able to sneak around the corner and to the market without the need for security. As you push your cart-wagon back down the sidewalk and begin separating the food items into the outside storage container, your mind drifts to the one thing that feels like reprieve right now– Murph. You think about him catching you looking at him on the plane this morning, and how warm your entire body felt as you watched him wink at you. And the fact that tomorrow you’ll be spending the entire evening with him, watching one of your most favorite bands perform by his side.

Does it feel wrong to think of things this way? Using Murph as an excuse to not think of Jake and Isla? Sure, maybe a little. But you never devoted yourself to Jake. And he never set things in stone with you. And for him to explain things to your face so honestly for it all to blow up in your face… ugh. And you really believed him, too. Now the taste in your mouth is dirty and sour, and everything feels so disgustingly wrong. Vengeful. Deceitful as you “use” one man to take your mind off another. But also, who the hell cares? You have nothing to lose, and apparently fucking everything to gain. So hanging out with someone who values your company and actually wants to start things off honestly… why not? Murph makes you laugh until your stomach hurts. He makes you feel safe. And being around him feels like a breath of fresh morning air instead of one that hardly fills your lungs.

The rest of the day flies by as you are dying to get a free second to call Ruth, knowing that her matter-of-fact outlook on life will help you to feel less shitty about your decisions. You’d managed to fly under the radar most of the day, only saying necessary words to your co-workers, and having very little run-ins with any of the guys. Thankfully Paul had sent you on a few more errands throughout the afternoon, of which you accepted gracefully if they let your mind think about anything else other than the auburn-haired tramp holding Jake’s hand.

The craft table is set and ready for grazing, and the fridge and coolers are stocked to the brim with everything the band and crew could need, and you finally get a second to breathe as you listen to the crowd outside cheer for the second opener. Just as you’re stuffing a container of Oreos into a mesh sack, you feel the presence of someone joining you in the small room.

“Hey there mama.”

You perk up, the familiar voice startling you. “Oh, hey Josh. What’s up?” you ask blankly, upset that the time had come that you could no longer avoid any of them.

“Not much, they’re all getting in their zones in there, not much I can do besides sip on this…” he holds up his paper cup of steaming hot tea, giving you a cordial smile as you pretend to keep your hands busy. “You uh, you okay?” he asks, and you wish he would just… go away.

You huff an exhale, throwing one hand on your hip and the other up to scratch the back of your head. “Uh, no. Not really,” you laugh awkwardly. “But, here we are…”

“Listen Y/N,” he goes on, “I’m really really sorr–”

“Josh, don’t. Please just, don’t. I’m already mortified beyond belief, the last thing I need right now is pity, ok?” Your tone is clipped, but it has a right to be.

He nods as he swallows, tapping his pointer finger against his cup. “I get it. Just uh, just want you to know I’m on your team on this one, I really, we really had no idea they were scheming this up,” he explains, his sincerity heavy. “You know how we all feel about Isla.”

You nod in return, biting your jaw sideways as you feel so displaced in the conversation right now. “Honestly Josh, I feel very much like this is none of my business, anymore, so… if you don’t mind…” you quickly check your watch as you blindly make up some excuse to get him out the door.

“It is your business, Y/N. He’s just… Please, just don’t throw him away,” Josh begs, and you hear a commotion on your radio.

“That’s not my decision to make, Josh,” you say as you both hear the radio chime with a ten minute warning. Josh hisses through his teeth as he takes one more long sip of his tea, and tosses the cup into the trash.

“See you out there, huh?” he says as he opens the heavy door to the hallway.

“I’ll have you a fresh tea in a few,” you assure him, casting him an awkward smile.

As the sound of the crowd roars outside, you know that it is time to get the guys their respective stage drinks prepared, and to go and meet them at the stairs. You get everything ready, leaving Jake’s drink the last piece to your puzzle. You’d completely ignored getting him a drink at all at the last show, one last slap in the face as you made your stance. But tonight, you decide to resume your duties, knowing that if you’re going to do anything right at all, it's going to be your job.

You slide over to the corner of the green room, squatting down in the floor to fish for the bag you know he’s hidden. Your hands grip on the black canvas material as you drag it out, a strange feeling of weird nostalgia bubbling up in your stomach. You pull up the heavy bag to rest on the arm of the couch before unzipping it slowly, seeing all his normal items inside. All the items that just a few short days ago, you cherished seeing. The little parts of him that felt so real.

Your hand floats past his change of clothes, his sunglasses, his book, straight to the bottom to grasp onto the neck of the bottle of wine you knew you would find. Just as you bring it out of the bag, the green room door flies open, revealing the overwhelmingly loud aura of Isla.

Her eyes cut directly your way, catching you in the last act you’d want anyone to see today. The eye contact is quick as you hear her scoff at seeing you.

“Uh excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” she asks, her tone biting. She makes quick haste of walking directly over to you, ripping the bag from your hands as the bottom of the wine bottle catches on the zipper, knocking it free from your hand with force. The bottle hits the tile floor, breaking the glass and shattering it into a hundred pieces as the wine splashes all over your feet and the couch.

You gasp hard, catching the bag in mid-air before it hits the floor and soaks everything inside it. “Oh my god, look what the fuck you did!” Isla shouts, her hands covering her mouth. “Why are you rustling around in my boyfriend’s bag?! That’s not yours!” she shouts.

Oh here we fucking go.

You roll your eyes, keeping surprisingly calm as you place his bag back down on the couch. “Just doing my job, Isla. I get them their stage drinks before every show. He gave me permission to get his wine from his bag. Now look what you’ve done,” you spit, moving over to get a broom and paper towels. The rage is beginning to boil up in your belly as you drag the trash can over to clean up the mess, Isla making no moves whatsoever to try and help.

Isla crosses her arms as she zips Jake’s bag back up, mumbling under her breath. The only words you catch are “inappropriate’ and ‘ridiculous’. You roll your eyes again as you finish cleaning up the tiny shards of glass, feeling upset that you wasted an entire bottle of what looked to be an expensive vintage.

As you dry up the remaining liquid from the floor, you realize that Isla hasn’t left, she’s just standing there, watching you clean. ‘Why isn’t she fucking leaving?’ you ask yourself, feeling overwhelmingly out of place. You shake the feeling, deciding to go ahead and finish making the drinks, knowing the time for them to go on stage is drawing closer and closer. You decide to make Jake the same thing you make Danny, realizing that it will have to do. Isla watches you wordlessly as you pop open the drink mixers, perfectly pouring them into his metal chalice cup.

“Can I help you with something?” you burst, feeling so awkward that you could actually scream.

She purses her lips as she picks up a cookie from the table, taking a tiny bite to keep her mouth from saying what she really wants to say. You hear the overture music begin to play in the distance, and you know you have to hurry. You stick your finger into Jake’s icy drink, swirling it around a few times before looking at Isla one last time, popping your finger into your mouth and sucking off the tequila with a smile. You pick up all four drinks and head for the door, letting it slam hard behind you.

You can feel Isla’s presence on your heels as you hurriedly pace down the dark hallway, passing rushing crew members and staff as you hold the drinks steadily in your hands, careful not to spill a drop. You make it just in time as you hand off the Topo Chico, the tea, and the tequila cocktail, saving Jake’s chalice for dead last. Just as his tech helps him place his strap over his head, the room suddenly erupts with loud cheers, the lights beginning to flash wildly. Jake takes the drink from you, glancing into it and quickly realizing it isn’t his wine of the day. He gulps as he makes eye contact with you, looking as though he wants to say a million things, but as his lips part to speak, nothing comes out. Instead, you decide to lean into him, yelling in his ear above the loud noise.

“Hope this drink doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth. I didn’t have a fucking choice,” you bark, stepping back to glare at him. Again, he’s speechless, but the look on his face is questioning. As you move your eyes to look at the woman standing beside you, she pushes you to the side, forcing you to step sideways as she grabs Jake’s face in both of her hands, his hands both too full to push her away. She catches him off guard, planting a quick and forceful kiss to his lips right there in front of you. You scoff as he backs away, using his body weight to separate himself.

He doesn’t even say anything as he finishes ascending the stairs, placing his drink down as he joins his brothers in their places behind the curtain. What a fucking bitch, you think as you watch her try and block your view of them, unsuccessfully. You watch as he cuts his eyes at her, shaking his head in the most unapproving way. His eyes are slit and his jaw is clenched, his knuckles white as he grips the neck of his guitar. Fuck, he is mad.

With only a few seconds to spare, you watch as Jake rushes back over to his amp, grabbing up his drink and tilting it back, chugging what had to be half of it before cutting his eyes at her again, rushing back over to his place next to Danny.

Isla crosses her arms as she backs up to stand beside you, a devilish smirk crossing her lips as she never lets her eyes leave him. “What did you make him, anyway?” she asks.

You bite your lips in before you give her a one word answer, “Tequila.”

“Ahaaa,” Isla laughs as she tilts her head back. “I should thank you, then. That means I am definitely in for it tonight, if you know what I mean.” She smiles hard as the curtain drops to the stage floor, but your heart falls ten times harder. If all that Jake and his brothers said is true, then who the fuck does this bitch think she is?

You’re about to let it all fly before you look her way, realizing that she’s already making her way toward Mia and Lyla in the corner, snickering when the three of them finally join up. Their eyes drift quickly to each other and to you, and you feel like you’re in middle school again. Three grown women whispering into each other’s ears as if you’re being bullied on the playground at recess, making themselves look like absolute fools. How could Danny and Sam not realize…?

Whatever. It’s none of your business anymore, right? You’ve got a job to do, and a really hot date to dream about.

You dash back to the green room to replenish anything that needs it, and you find that you’re interrupting someone.

“Oh fuck, Ty, you scared me,” you laugh, clutching your chest as you watch him chew furiously. “What are you doing?”

“Shit,” he laughs through a full mouth. “Sorry, I’m so motherfucking hungry right now… Please don’t tell anyone it was me tearing up this charcuterie board.”

You let out a full belly laugh, Ty’s presence instantly calming you.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks as he swallows. “Why does it smell like straight Chardonnay in here?” Ty doesn’t even let you answer as he grabs a whole box of crackers and pulls your hand to follow him to the couch, but not before locking the door. “There, now we can talk just us again. You look flushed, babe, what’s up?”

You grunt as you pull a few crackers from the box, stuffing them in your mouth. “Ugh. Isla caught me getting Jake’s wine from his bag, she got pissed I guess and she made me drop the bottle on the floor, it shattered,” you say through a full mouth. “So I made him a really fucking strong tequila drink, instead.”

Ty throws his head back and laughs. “Good! That bitch deserves to drink tequila tonight.”

You swallow, giving Ty a sincere look. “Does he, though? I mean, he did tell me the truth… week too fucking late, but…”

“Yeah I mean, I guess, but he could have banished her and sent her on her merry way back to Nash,” Ty says.

“But he didn’t…” you say softly.

“But he didn’t.”

“Is his heart too big?” you ask, truly wondering.

Ty shrugs, clearing crackers from his teeth. “I dunno, maybe. No matter what he does, he’s the asshole.” You nod, feeling very conflicted in the matter. “Ugh,” Ty complains, “I tried to fix this and it just got fucking worse..” he smacks himself on the face.

“Shh, Ty, it’s okay,” you say, pulling his head back up. “I–I don’t really care, anymore. Besides, I’m going to see the Keys with Murph tomorrow.”

He perks right up. “MURPH?! Oh my god, how is that going?”

“It’s good, it’s fine… nothing serious, but–”

“But you wanna sleep with him, right? He’s hot, I wouldn’t blame you. Oh my god, have you already?! Y/N–”

“Ty! Ty! Jesus, no, I haven’t, calm down…” you laugh, grabbing his shoulders as it hits you why you love Ty so much. He reminds you so much of Ruth that it hurts.

He takes your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “Listen babe, I’m Team You, and I’m really excited for you… but…”

“That’s exactly what Josh said,” you laugh.

He scoffs. “I just want a cool sister in law, that’s all okay?”

“Sister in law?! Are you insane Ty?” you crow, pushing his shoulder as you both fall into laughter.

It calms down for a second while you both listen to the music bellowing through the walls. “So you really like Murph?” he asks, snarling his nose.

You pause for a second, contemplating an answer that won’t embarrass you too much. “I do… if not for anything ya know, like that, just as someone I can hang out with. He’s nice to me, understands me. He bought me Black Keys tickets, Ty! Like how thoughtful is that? Finally some time just me and him, no chance of running into anyone or having to talk to Jake at all…”

All the happiness falls from Ty’s face. “Black Keys tickets? For like, tomorrow?”

“Yeah, why? He’s taking me on a date…”

“Babes, we’re all going to that show tomorrow,” he says, stretching his lips over his teeth.

Oh fuck.

“Like, everybody?” you ask, hopeful that he will say just him and Josh.

“Yeah. Like, everybody.”

—

“If you want to dump that ice outside, I will throw these last few drinks into the cooler,” Paul says, motioning towards the table.

“Yeah, sure,” you answer, knowing it would be minutes until the guys came bounding into the greenroom for their post show drink. You grab the bucket and walk through the bustling hallways, tossing the ice into the bathroom sink to melt. As you make your way back to the green room you find that it is now occupied with the four sweaty men.

Your eyes immediately catch Jake’s who looks like he is on the tail end of a nasty little spat with Isla. Honestly, you would rather see that than them loving on each other. At least the palpable hostility in the room corroborates the things he told you last night. You wanted to believe him. You really did, but seeing Isla holding his hand this morning really had you second guessing everything.

“That everything?” Paul asks, snapping your attention away.

“Oh, um yes. I think so. Should be all set for tomorrow,” you answer with a nod.

“Good work, Y/N. Enjoy your evening,” he says, patting your shoulder and exiting the room.

You lean awkwardly on the table as you try to keep to yourself. Josh speaks up, grabbing everyone's attention.

“What are we thinking? We want to go out tonight?” he asks, looking at each of you. No one jumps at the idea, still very unsure of the dynamic of the group now that Isla had joined.

“No, Danny and I are gonna go back to the room,” she grins, turning to look at Isla. You immediately realize that the two of them have again conspired to run the show tonight.

“I could use a drink,” Jake says.

“Noooo, baby, I’m tired, let’s go back to the room,” Isla interjects, pulling on his arm. Its very obvious to you that she is going to do everything in her power to get him alone and all to herself.

“I’m in as long as they have Tequila,” Jake adds, clearly ignoring her pleads.

“Jake no, lets just stay in. I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she whines.

“Yeah, because I didn’t invite you here, Isla! Do you need me to lay out the definition of a break again?” he says, slinging her arm off of his with a mumbled curse.

Isla storms out of the room, brushing past you in a huff. You raise your eyebrows as you look at Ty, who is doing his best to stifle down a laugh.

With everyone's eyes on Jake he shakes his head and rushes out the door after her. Josh is not too far behind him, ready to play referee.

“Well, that’s my cue to grab the van!” Sam shouts, trying to break the awkward tension. You bite your lips together, trying not to laugh at how awkward everything is. Sam and Lyla quickly exit the green room with Mia and Danny at their side. Just you and Ty remain in the room, both of you busting out in laughter as the door slams shut.

“Holy shit,” he laughs, gasping for air. “That was good.”

“This is all so awkward, Ty. I can’t do this,” you groan.

“No, it’s just getting good,” he says, standing up to walk over to you. “You got your stuff? You ready to go?”

You look around the room, spotting Jake’s backpack still laying on the floor and you wonder if you should grab it. Seconds later, Isla is rushing through the door, snatching her purse from the couch and grabbing Jake’s bag from the floor.

She tosses the black backpack over her shoulder, cutting her eyes at you and Ty, “Oh, and just by the way, I would replace that bottle of wine if I were you. He’s going to be mad when he finds out you broke it.”

You recoil at her audacity, turning to look at Ty who is just as shocked as you are. She storms out the door before you can respond and you shake your head, fully understanding why Jake is desperate to be done with her in the first place.

—

The ride back to the hotel was pin drop silent. No one daring to utter a single syllable. Jake refused to sit by Isla, instead opting to sit with Ty and Josh, leaving you with Daniel and Mia. You all file out of the van in a hurry, making your way to the elevators and to your respective rooms without another word. You watched as Jake stepped out of the elevator with Isla, turning over his shoulder to meet your eyes for a matter of a second before the doors closed again.

Your blood was boiling after your encounter with Isla, the rage rippling through your body like a freight train. You knew there was only one way to get it out, so as you stepped into your room you stripped out of your work clothes and threw on some workout clothes, quickly making your way back downstairs to the hotel gym.

A run would help. A run always helps.

As you step inside you find it empty, but that isn’t a huge shock since it is nearly midnight. You turn the lights on and make your way to the treadmill, putting in your airpods and turning on a metal playlist. Your legs start to move, starting a slow jog. You work your way up to a sprint, letting the music in your ears push you to run faster.

You run your aggression out, every step causing you to feel lighter and lighter. Just as you hit the down arrow to slow down the track you hear a ding in your ear as Siri alerts you of a new text from Ruth.

Ruth

12:14AM: Hello? Updates? I can’t sleep

You slow to a walk, deciding there is really no better time to update her on the situation. You decide to send her voice memos instead of calling her, needing to get your rambling out uninterrupted.

Your heart is pounding with adrenaline as you recount every detail of the last twenty four hours in what has to be ten voice memos. You can feel the sweat dripping down the side of your neck as your body tries to cool itself down.

You hit the record button again, giving one last quip before leaving her to listen, “And one more thing. If that nasty little stuck up bitch says one more thing to me about her boyfriend I think I might kill them both. She is the reason the wine bottle shattered in the first place. I was just doing my damn job. Of course he marched right upstairs with her tonight, didn’t even try to say anything to me the entire night. So much for ‘give me ten minutes’ or whatever the hell he said. Okay, end rant,” you say, hitting the button and watching it deliver.

You huff as you slow the treadmill to a stop, stepping off and grabbing a towel to wipe your face. As you turn around you pull your Airpods out, and see Jake, leaning against the door with a solemn look on his face.

“Holy fuck, Jake!” you say, grabbing at your chest. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He holds his hands up, “Sorry, I just got in here. Had the same idea as you, I suppose.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you seethe, snapping your Airpods into the case. You grab for your bag, trying to make it out of the gym as quickly as possible but of course, he stops you.

“Y/N, please,” he begs, lifting a hand towards you.

“Shouldn’t you be upstairs with your girlfriend?” you bark.

He shakes his head gently, “No, I told her I needed a minute and I wanted to be alone. And stop with the girlfriend thing, I told you she isn’t.”

You recoil back, “Really? Could have fooled me.”

“I heard what you said to Ruth.”

“You what!?” you shout, “You were listening to me?!”

“I mean, the last part, yeah. I didn’t hear everything, but you are right. You should be mad at me. I deserve it,” he says, nodding his head.

Your blood is boiling beneath your skin, “That was private, Jake. You should have stepped out. I thought I was alone.”

“I know, I just– I’m sorry. I just needed to hear you say it. Now I have,” he pauses. “I’d really like it if you’d let me explain everything. I can explain all of it, I swear.

“It’s self explanatory, Jake. You lied to me. You said all that shit only for her to turn up this morning.”

“But I didn’t lie. Everything was true, Y/N. It was Mia an-and Lyla, they did this. Planned all of it. I had no idea. She just showed up at my door last night after we talked. I had no clue, you have to believe me.”

You do believe him. You don’t want to, but you do. You can see it written all over his face.

“I– I can’t do this Jake. It’s late, I’m exhausted. This is just…I can’t do the lies and the games. I feel like shit for causing these issues between you two. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, that’s never what I wanted. That’s not who I am.”

“You didn’t homewreck anything, Y/N! It was already wrecked before I ever even met you! You were rebuilding me! I was finally happy for the first time in–fuck. I wish I could show you, even barely explain what you have done for me, but I can’t because everything is just so fucked up now. Please, just know, I don’t want her. Haven’t for a long time,” he shouts.

“So what then, Jake? What do you want?”

“You know the answer to that. You have to know. I know you know,” he says, his voice softening. The look in his eyes is pleading with you even harder than his words are, and you can feel the sincerity coming off of him in waves.

Your heart aches at his words. You can feel that he is being genuine but there is still that shred of doubt clouding your mind. Part of you wants to stay, hear him out, let him explain everything. But the other part of you knows there is no use when at the end of the night he will be in bed with her.

“I’m sorry, Jake, I can’t…”

You brush past him and push through the door, hearing the heavy wood slam behind you.

—

JAKE POV

Fuck this. Fuck this fuck this fuck this.

What in the hell are you gonna do now?

There’s no right answer. No matter what decision you make, it’s going to be the wrong one. And it’s going to hurt someone else, whether you want it to or not.

You pull your hair back and throw it into a bun and grab a towel from the shelf in the corner, cupping it around your neck. You pull your tangled earphones from your pocket, getting aggravated as you try to pull them apart. You know that if Y/N was still around, she’d have them untangled and wrapped neatly for you, waiting in your bag for the next time you want to use them.

Fuck, you miss her. Her yelling in your face just now was the most you’ve spoken in days, and even though she was mad and disappointed and calling you every name in the book, somewhere deep, deep down, it felt good to be in her presence again. God, you need to get your shit together.

You step onto the treadmill as you feel the belt pick up speed beneath you, your feet keeping up with the traction of the increasing momentum. Your finger keeps hitting the button, keeps letting it climb and climb until it’s almost maxed out. You need to sprint so fast that your legs give out… you need to hear your heart beating in your ears for another reason other than getting too exhausted on stage. Physical exertion has always been one of your secret kryptonites, pushing your body to the point of no return to get your anger out. And most of the time, it truly worked.

Anything to keep you from going back to the room and screaming at Isla.

Once you feel like your body simply couldn’t handle another step, you slow the treadmill, cooling down with a brisk walk as you run the towel over your face. Have you seriously fucked everything up? Is anything ever going to get better? Or are you going to be stuck with Isla for the rest of your life?

After a few centering breaths and some self-slaps in the face, you get yourself together and make your way back up to your hotel room, wanting nothing more than to chug a bottle of water, and follow it up with another strong tequila. A hard buzz to get you through the night, then claim exhaustion to avoid talking to Isla any more than necessary.

As the elevator ascends and your body falls into that tranquil state of peace you get after a good workout, you realize that you’re going to have to share a bed with her. A queen sized bed. Fuck. Me.

Your limp legs carry you to your room and you inhale a sharp breath as you unlock the door, letting yourself into the room.

“Heyyyy baby…” Isla wails from the bed, stark naked with a bottle of champagne in her hand. “What took you so long?”

You drop your bag to the floor as the image before you stops you in your tracks. “I was working out, Isla,” you answer flatly.

“C’mon, come get in bed…” she slurs, and you can tell she’s already been working on the champagne. “Let’s celebrate our anniversary like we used to.”

You couldn’t feel more disconnected from her, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from her as possible, right now. You even contemplate pulling out the couch bed.

“Mmm, no. I’m getting in the shower, then I’m going to bed. I’m really tired,” you say, grabbing clothes from your bag, and an airplane bottle from the mini bar.

You hear her groan from behind you as her lips pop off the bottle of champagne. “Want me to join you?” she asks, her voice rising a few octaves.

“NO! No, I won’t be long, just… stay there.” You pull the bathroom door closed and quietly lock the latch, knowing that she is the type to sneak in even after you’d told her not to. Just months ago, you’d have given anything for her to join you in the shower. Hell, join you on tour. But now, the thought of her impeding in your space like this nearly makes you sick.

“Ugh, okay. I’ll be here waiting,” you hear her call through the door.

You tip the tequila back in one quick swallow and shower quickly, rinsing off the sweat of the day and the stench of your guilt, feeling more shitty than you’ve felt in a really, really long time. You want to talk to Josh. You need to hear his level-headed opinion on this matter, and honestly, you need Ty’s, too. Tomorrow, you’ll talk to them. Hopefully.

You step out of the shower and dry off, thanking yourself for remembering to grab a t-shirt and shorts to avoid having to walk in front of Isla half-clothed.

You flick the bathroom light off and find Isla in the same position she was in, watching some old 80’s crime rerun on TV. You plug your phone in and slide into the bed beside her, being sure to turn your back to her as you fluff the pillow beneath your head. Surprisingly, you aren’t really that tired, but you’ll be damned if you are going to stay awake a minute longer than you need to to endure this night.

You pretend to start to fall asleep, letting your body succumb to the comfort of the bed and puffy sheets. Your limbs relax as the exhaustion actually does set in, letting you know that maybe you aren’t as far from sleep as you think you are. Your eyes begin to play the beginning images of a dream, your body jerking a little as it relaxes. Suddenly, just as you’re about to drift off peacefully, you feel a hand run across your back, up underneath your shirt.

Ugh, Isla, please stop…

Her hand drifts up to your shoulder, squeezing the muscle and gritting the pad of her thumb up underneath your shoulder blade, massaging your tight back muscles. You’re letting yourself enjoy the sensation, picturing Y/N’s hands all over you just like they used to be, soft but strong in all the right places. It feels good, it feels really good. You have only had the hands of your hired massage therapists on your back for the past few days, so to feel the light touch of someone else’s hand is a welcome change.

“Shit baby, you’re tense…” Isla mumbles, making you wake up from your half-asleep state, sending all your dreams of Y/N straight down the drain.

“Isla, please…” you warn with a stern voice.

“Please what, baby? I miss you…” she sings, bringing her body to press up against your back. “Came all the way here to see you, visit you on our anniversary…”

Though your eyes are closed, you roll them, taking in a deep and cleansing breath as you prepare yourself to argue, yet again.

“Isla, today is just another day on my calendar. Can you please drop the anniversary shit? Do you not understand that I can’t do this with you anymore? I don’t want this–”

“So what, you gonna kick me out?” she slurs, and you can hear the drunkenness in her voice now. “Make me get another room? Or you gonna come take care of me the way I know you want to…”

For a split second, you think about it. You really think about it. Through the exhaustion in your bones and the tiredness of your muscles, your male brain contemplates it for a split second. Your dick throbs at the thought of it, no emotion involved, just straight meaningless sex. You could really fucking use it.

“I know you miss me Jake, I can feel it. See it when you look at me. I know you think about fucking me just as often as I think about it with you… I’m not naive.”

Giving in to her and giving her what she wants is an option that will get her to shut up, but it will also dig the hole you’re already in deeper than you can dig yourself out of, and that’s not a headache that you need right now.

No matter how good she looks under the covers…

No matter how good her hands felt on your skin, or how badly you could really use a good romp, right now.

Ugh, should you just get it over with? It would probably only take a second, at this point…

“No, please, just go the fuck to sleep,” you stay strong.

You pull your body away from her a bit, scooting further away and out of her reach. You hear her scoff as she rolls to her back, pulling the covers up over her chest. “Ya know, you aren’t the same person anymore, Jake. Remember when I told you you’d fucking changed? Well it’s true. It’s never been more true,” she barks. “You used to have the biggest heart, used to want me more than anything, love me more than anything. Now you’re just a grouchy son of a bitch. I can’t believe anyone can even stand to be around you anymore.”

Her words don’t even hurt you, anymore. They used to cut you like a knife. And though they make you feel like shit, you know they aren’t true. You might be a grouchy son of a bitch, but you know that your brothers and your friends still love you. She’s using anything she can to get under your skin, right now.

She’s the one who fucking changed.

“Ok Isla, thanks. Now let me go to sleep,” you beg, letting her words roll right off of your thickened skin.

Things fall quiet again but for just a second as Isla turns the volume up on the TV just a few notches, just enough to piss you off.

“Can you turn that back down, please?” you bellow, to which she responds with silence. The TV stays at an unreasonable volume as you try to tune it out, but you fall short. Your gut is boiling up with rage at her inconsideration.

“Isla! Hello? I’m trying to sleep! Do I need to go stay in Josh’s room or–”

“Damn Jake, chill, it isn’t even that loud…” she complains as she grabs the remote, switching the TV off completely. For some reason, that just pisses you off even more.

“Isla, listen to me. Why did you come here?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose as you sit up in bed.

“...Because, we’ve always spent this week together, it’s special, I thought you’d be excited to see me after we’ve been on this break…” she squeaks.

“Do you not remember everything I said before I left? Seriously? That I didn’t want any contact from you, I needed to sort shit out, I needed you to find somewhere else to go… why is none of it clicking with you? I’m so confused,” you spurt, the words tripping over themselves.

“I don’t understand why you aren’t respecting my wishes. I don’t understand why you showed up here unannounced,” you go on. “I don’t understand how I could put things more clearly, that I don’t want this anymore. I’m tired of having this same fucking conversation over and over and it never means anything to you.” You speak like a teacher to his young students, clearly and slowly, now, so that it might help her to understand. But it won’t. She never gets it.

The room is dark and bleak, only the pale gleam of the street lights poking through the windows and the heat blowing through the vent in the corner fill the empty space between you. “All I want is space, and you can’t even give me that. No matter how far away I run.” The words hurt to choke out as you begin to feel a little sorry for yourself. This shit with her is beginning to wear you down, tearing away at your self-worth even though you act like it isn’t.

“I thought… I thought you might have just wanted a couple of weeks to think about things, time to miss me, ya know?” she says, obviously completely forgetting about the countless arguments you’d had on the phone since tour began. She’s obviously gaslighting you yet again.

“Mia and Lyla said you seemed distracted lately, just unhappy and not yourself,” she says.

“See, that’s not true, Isla. If anything, I’ve been happier. More free to do whatever I please,” and you know that is a stone cold fact.

“It just… ugh it feels so fucking wrong and stupid to be home, in your home, cleaning and taking care of things and making sure the bills are paid and that things are working while you’re gone… until I found somewhere else to go, Jake. I don’t have anywhere to go!” she yells, sitting up to face you. “I’ve relied on you for years, and you expect me to just pick up and find somewhere in a week? Be for fucking real. You didn’t even give me time to look for somewhere before you decided to kick me out!”

“That’s not fucking true, Isla! I discussed this with you countless fucking times before I left! But it’s like it went in one ear, and straight out the other! I know what you’re doing, you’re using me. I understand. I get it, I’m doing well for myself and you don’t want to lose that. That’s all this is. That’s all you’ve come to care about! You don’t care about me anymore! Just your fucking status,” your chest is heaving, your heart beating from it as you let it all out again, the same goddamed thing you always say, hoping, praying, that one day it will catch on in her mind.

“I just wanted to be close to you again,” she pouts, completely ignoring the actual meat of the details of what you’re actually concerned with, dancing around the actual issues yet again. “Plus they said you’d gotten really close with that other girl and I–”

“Oh! Ohhhh, so that’s what this is about? What else did they say, huh?”

Isla pulls the sheets up over her lap as she reclines back onto the bed. “Ugh, nothing,” she tries to blow it off, sending a whole new wave of rage straight through you.

“No, tell me. I want to know what everyone is saying about MY life behind my back when I told you I wanted privacy.” Your fist pounds against your chest. “Please, enlighten me,” you spit, the venom in your voice like gasoline catching fire. This could be it, this could be when you let your secret be known, and fuck, could it backfire. But you’re so blinded with fury that you don’t really even fucking care at this point.

“They told me they think you’re sleeping with her, okay?” she yells, and you know things are about to go south, and quickly.

“Hah,” you breathe. “So that’s the whole reason you came over here, to check up on me after I told you I don’t want to even be with you anymore. That’s fucking disgusting Isla,” you growl, your teeth gritting against each other. “We’re grown fucking adults.”

“So are you?” she challenges, her tone reminding you of a girlfriend you would have had in the ninth grade.

“What?”

“Are you sleeping with her?!” her voice cracks as she yells at you.

You’re so horribly offended you can hardly see straight, and all your extremities feel numb. “That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it fucking is, Jake! I live in your home!” she retorts, her hands flying in the air, now. The voice of your twin reverberates in the back of your mind, and though you’ll never admit it to him, he was absolutely and completely right. It’s all blowing up in your face.

You’re so fucking sick of this. You’re so fucking tired of it all. Your life doesn’t feel like it’s your own anymore, and when you do return home, it will most definitely feel like anything but. It’s time you stand your ground.

“You know what Isla? Yes, yes we were. You happy?” you say, the words flowing a little more freely than you’d thought they would. But, they also make the hole in your heart a little bigger, seeing as how now, you might truly never get Y/N back. Your voice falls a little with your next admission. “She made me fucking happy.”

Isla inhales through her nose, the realization hitting her as she tries to catch her breath. She doesn’t say anything for a good few seconds as you let her process, and you hear a few tiny sobs leave her chest. “You gotta be fucking kidding me, Jacob…” she breathes, her words no more than a whisper. “So you…you cheated on me…”

What did she fucking expect, really?

You grit your jaw and stiffen your muscles as you hold back. “How is it cheating when I told you I didn’t want to be with you anymore, for months, begged you to leave, told you I was finished. Beyond finished. How is that cheating?”

Convincing yourself of that has been the hardest part. There is no rule book for this shit. The whole situation is so sticky. So messy, tossed around and disorganized like you’ve never seen before. Nothing is right, nothing is wrong. Your morals are out the window, your decision-making skills are shot. You’re exhausted. You’re mad. You’re heartbroken.

But she doesn’t answer your question.

No more conversation is held between the two of you for the rest of the night, and you lie back on your pillow and listen to the sounds of her crying, her chest catching with violent sobs that she tries to hide from you. You can’t see her, but you know what her face must look like. Red and splotched with heavy wet tears, her cheeks flushed and pink as she realizes how real her suspicions were. You can’t stand to hear her crying, it was always your biggest weakness when it came to her, aside from her ability to lure you back into bed, of course.

You feel sorry for her. You can’t help it. The old her is buried down underneath there, somewhere, deep underneath this new persona, underneath the brand new person that you hardly even know anymore. She’s got to still be there, the girl you fell in love with. The honest and sincere and forgiving one. She’s still got to be somewhere in there, right?

Old habits die hard, especially for a person you once held so close to your heart. You hate being the reason she can hardly catch her breath right now. You hate being under the covers with her in the same bed in a foreign country, with nothing but a pillow separating the two of you as her cries fill the quiet of the room. You know it’s wrong, you know it’s the worst thing you could probably do, but your human emotion overtakes your decision making skills, and you place a hand on her arm, feeling her goosebump-covered skin under your touch.

“‘M sorry, Isla. I really am,” you whisper, squeezing your hand on her just a little. “Can you please stop crying?”

“My whole life is fucking falling apart, Jake. No, I don’t think I will stop crying,” she says, completely unaware that she is half the reason your lives together started to fall apart in the first place. You know she has got some serious over committal issues, that much is true. But it doesn’t stop the fact that the other half of that life-ruining moment is happening by your hand. The last thing you want is to be the reason someone is unhappy at all.

Reality sets in as you release your hold on her cold arm, rolling to your back to stare at the popcorned ceiling. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the sound of her cries, reminding yourself over and over that honesty is the best policy, and you need to be the one who takes care of yourself.

Instead, you think about tomorrow. You’re going to try and make the day tolerable, no matter what it takes. You’re going to see the Black Keys with your brothers, and you’re going to enjoy yourself.

Maybe Mia and Lyla will take care of their grieving best friend, keeping her far, far away from you. Maybe Josh will notice and intervene. Maybe.

7:00 is going to come early, and you roll to make sure your alarm is set to wake you, knowing that the bus ride to Glasgow is going to be anything but enjoyable.

Sleep will be anything but peaceful tonight.

—

HER POV

Your alarm wakes you far too early, your muscles sore and tired from the overexertion of running last night. You feel refreshed, knowing that you only have to get on the bus this morning then you will be on your way to the concert with Murph. You still hadn’t decided on what to wear, but you knew it had to be good. Like really good.

You roll over to grab your phone, seeing that Murph had already texted you this morning but also seeing that sometime in the early morning hours Jake added a song to the playlist. Your mind struggles with which notification to open first, your brain telling you to open Murph’s text, but your heart pulling for you to see what Jake added.

Against your better judgment you swipe open the playlist notification, watching the songs populate in the playlist. As you scroll to the bottom you let out a sigh seeing his addition of ‘Don’t Wanna Fight’ by Alabama Shakes.

You tap the song, letting the opening notes play through your phone as you swipe out of it and open your texts.

Murph

6:47AM: Good morning, hope you slept well.

6:48AM: When we get to Glasgow and get settled I’ll send you more concrete details for tonight, just have a few things to secure first. Can’t wait. 😎

You

7:05AM: I can’t wait either, looking forward to it! 🎹

You toss your phone on the nightstand and pull yourself out of bed, quickly dressing and packing up your suitcase to meet everyone in the lobby. To say you’re dreading it is an understatement, and you know that the three hour bus ride into Glasgow is going to be anything but pleasant.

Thankfully you were able to secure a seat near the back of the bus, leaving Jake, Isla and the rest of the crew towards the front. You can see Murph’s head peeking over the top of the seat, his eyes finding you just as the bus pulls out into traffic.

You

8:02AM: Cool kids sit at the back of the bus

Murph

8:03AM: Someone has to watch the children

You

8:04AM: I’ll just be back here thinking about tonight, then…

Murph

8:05AM: Hasn’t left my mind all morning 😉

Your heart flutters as you see him turn around and wink at you, your cheek growing red with lust. You spend much of the three hour ride deciding what to wear and how you wanted to do your hair for the show, simultaneously listening to the new Keys album.

It’s not long before you’re rolling your suitcase over the threshold of your new hotel room, flopping down on the oversized bed with a sigh of relief. The bus ride was uneventful, just as you’d hoped it would be.

You open the facetime app and tap Ruth’s name, knowing she needs a rundown and that you need her help deciding on an outfit. As the call connects you see her in her bathroom, towel on her head as she does her skincare routine.

“Hello…” she answers, a mumble as her mouth contorts into an ‘O”.

“Ruth, code red I need you to help me pick an outfit for tonight,” you groan.

“What’s tonight?” she asks, peeking an eye open to look at you.

“The Black Keys show with Murph!” you shout, “Do you even listen to my voice memos anymore?!”

“Yeah, all fifty of them,” she snickers, “What are the options?”

“Well, anything really, but it has to be hot because I’m trying to get laid.”

“Oh, yeah sure, not because Jake and Miss Congeniality are going to be there too, right?” she taunts.

“No,” you lie. Of course you want to make him jealous.

“What is Muscles McFly wearing?” she asks.

“Well, if I had to guess, jeans and a t-shirt. Kind of his signature look,” you laugh.

“Okay, and you’re tryna smash, right?”

“I mean, yeah, hopefully,” you blush.

“Okay, mini skirt. Boob top. Lip gloss. Never fails.”

“The fuck is a boob top?” you laugh.

“Something that makes your tits look good, idiot,” she barks.

“Oh yeah, because I packed so many of those for freezing cold Europe,” you add.

“Well, just do your best, but definitely the skirt. And don’t even say you don’t have one because I slipped mine in your suitcase for this exact purpose.”

“Ruthie…” you groan.

“Thank me tomorrow when you can’t walk,” she smiles, winking at you as she ends the call.

You laugh and toss your phone onto the bed, opting for a quick nap before you have to get ready for the show.

—

Murph

4:57PM: Meet you in the lobby in fifteen to pick you up?

You

4:59PM: Pick me up?

Murph

5:01PM: Might have got another truck

You

5:02PM: Of course you did. See you in a few. 😙

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, deciding that yeah, maybe Ruth was right about the boob shirt. You looked good, better than good. You knew Murph was going to love it, and Jake was going to hate every second of seeing you in it with someone that isn’t him.

You slip on your boots and swipe on your lip gloss, grabbing your bag and making your way downstairs to the lobby. As you step outside the glass doors you see Murph leaning up against the hood of a truck, arms crossed across his chest. His muscles are defined beneath his t-shirt, his hat turned backwards as he eyes you up and down.

“My, my, well don’t you look gorgeous,” he smiles.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, handsome,” you flirt. You see his smile grow as he pushes off the truck and moves to open the door for you. You can smell his cologne wafting off of him, dark and masculine. It’s intoxicating, and you stop yourself from breathing in too much.

You jump up into the truck, letting him shut the door behind you. He makes his way around to the other side, getting in next to you and starting the engine. “You ready?”

“More than,” you grin, crossing your legs.

“Me too,” he smiles, pulling out onto the busy street.

“How do you always manage to get your own vehicles in every place we go?” you laugh, turning to look at him.

“Some say I’m a magic man,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

“I like the sound of that,” you answer, rubbing your glossed lips together.

“You smell amazing,” he says, almost as if he’d been dying to say it.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah, like, very very fucking good,” he admits.

“Well, it’s pheromones. It reacts differently on everyone’s skin, and it smells different to everyone who smells it. It’s supposed to help you attract people,” you smile.

“Not to be too forward, but it’s making me want to fucking devour you,” he confesses through a grin.

Your chest swells with lust as his words sink in, and in that moment you briefly consider skipping the concert so he can do just that. His phone rings, breaking your conversation. He holds his phone to his ear as he answers.

“Murph,” he says.

“Yeah, we are about ten minutes out. Tell them I will meet them at the artist entrance and walk them in the side doors,” he continues. “Sounds good, see you then.”

Your brow furrows as you try to figure out what he could possibly be talking about. He ends the call and turns to look at you with a sneaky look on his face.

“Who are we meeting?” you ask nervously.

“Well, as much as I would like to have you to myself tonight, it’s a bit of a family trip. Gotta walk the crew in then I’m all yours once Paul and Dean show up.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. That’s no problem. I mean, it’s your job and all,” you grin, feeling his hand slide over to rest on your bare thigh.

“You’re sweet, you know?”

You shrug your shoulders and blush, wondering if you’d ever received such a genuine compliment.

The rest of the car ride is spent listening to music and soaking in the feeling of his warm protective hand on your leg. He pulls into the parking lot and pulls into a space, smiling as he puts the car in park.

“Oh, that reminds me, there is actually one more thing I forgot to tell you,” he grins.

“Oh, gosh, what?” you ask nervously.

He reaches into the backseat and pulls out two lanyards with laminated badges reading Backstage - All Access.

“Ezra,” you gasp. “How–”

“Surprise, baby,” he smiles, placing the black lanyard over your head. He pulls your hair over the strap, letting it fall back over your shoulders.

“How did you– Please tell me how you managed to get backstage passes?! Like, this is almost impossible, I’ve tried,” you huff into the air as you and Murph jump out of the truck and high-step it into the venue, following behind the hoards of people who are also running late for the show.

He steps sideways, wrapping his strong arm around your neck as he pulls you into him for just a few seconds as if you’re his kid sister.

“I think you need to stop asking questions and just trust that I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever met,” he boasts into your ear, kissing the side of your head quickly before releasing your neck and pushing you away again.

You scoff at him through your teeth, your heart doing backflips at his gesture. “I don’t know about the coolest…maybe the most annoying, though…” you tease, shooting him a wink.

You both skip every other step as you rush up the concrete stairs to the venue doors, already hearing the loud crashing music of the openers. You’d seen the Black Keys twice before, the last time being almost five years ago, now. But since then they've put out so much more music. Since then you’d fallen so much more in love with them. And since then, you’d met Murph. Who just kissed the side of your head, and is taking you backstage.

“Am I really annoying?” he asks, letting you step ahead of him to go through the metal detectors at the entrance. His look had turned from playful to genuinely concerned, and you halfway wonder if he actually believed your statement.

“No! Crazy, you’re not annoying in the least,” you smile, picking your purse back up from the container as he follows you through it. “You’re amazing.”

His eyes are already scanning around, and you can tell that he’s not used to being on this side of these kinds of events. “Fuck, good. Last thing I wanna do is get on your nerves.”

The two of you dash and wind through the crowds, and you know that he’s searching for the guys. He is semi off the clock tonight, but watching out for them has already become ingrained in his mind…more than a job, and more of a duty.

“Danny said they’d be over this way, come on!” He shouts toward you, and you wonder how on earth, and why on earth they decided to be part of the general admission pit when they share fans with half of the Keys’ fandom. Seems a bit…unsafe, but, whatever.

Murph takes your hand in his as you push through the thickening crowd, sweetly intertwining his fingers with yours. He feels strong and steadfast, people basically stepping aside for him as you trail behind. You watch as he nods quick ‘thank you’s’ to each person that lets you through. Such a gentleman.

He squeezes your hand every few seconds, silently asking if you’re okay back there. You return the squeeze, his oversized, calloused palms gently scratching against your soft hands. You wonder what they’d feel like touching you in other places…

“Murph! Hey man!” You hear Danny’s voice beckon, and you see his curls sitting on his head, taller than everyone else. Murph turns back to look at you, pulling you to the right a little as he leads you toward the group.

Your stomach sinks when you see Jake, dressed in all black with his hair pulled back in a low bun, his blue-tinted sunglasses sitting on his nose. His tongue sucks into his cheek as he gives you an up-down, noticing first how your hand is tightly clasped in Murph’s. You can see his chest rise with a sarcastic laugh as he continues to wrap his arm around Isla’s waist, swigging beer from the plastic cup in his other hand.

Fucking asshole. You know he’s just being touchy to get under your skin.

You stand awkwardly as you watch Danny turn to look at the two of you, giving you a questioning look as he contorts his face up as if to say, ‘Murph, what have you got here, attached to your side?’

Murph reads his expression, leaning in close to whisper in Danny’s ear. Danny responds with a satisfied and agreeing head nod, giving him a quick fist bump as he looks back at Jake, but only for a second. Danny bites the edge of his beer cup between his front two teeth as he turns back to the stage, giving you a quick wink before he wraps his arm around Mia.

Fuck, what did Murph say?

“Y/N, they’re in like, a roped-off type area. We can stand beside them but I can’t get us over there,” Murph yells into your ear.

You bite your lips in and give him a pitiful look, standing on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his ear. “…But we have backstage passes, and they don’t. Who are the real winners here?”

As you pull back, you’re met with his hundred-watt smile, sending butterflies all through your stomach. God, he is so…

You both know you’re lying to yourselves, the guys have met them before and probably even had conversations with them. But it was fun to pretend for just a little while that you were the famous ones, ready to flash your badges at whoever asks to see them.

“You’re so right,” he rolls his eyes, motioning to the guys behind them like they were beneath you. “You wanna watch the show from here, or go watch from the side-stage? My buddy is back there working tonight, said we could come say hi…”

“Oh, so it’s a buddy that got you these passes, huh?” you tease, letting your other hand join in with the other, squeezing into his rough hands. Your eyes drift over to the guys again, and you see Ty motion for you to come and stand with them. But you pretend like you didn’t see him. You pretend that the guy that’s had you secretly crying every night for the past couple weeks wasn’t standing there with his beautiful girlfriend, pulling her into him as they ignored everyone else around them.

“Let’s go up there,” you make the executive decision, which Murph seems completely alright with.

“Yes ma’am,” he responds, turning to give one last word to Danny and Sam, and to Dean and Monty before taking off toward the staircase to head backstage. The sky is growing dark with clouds, and you wonder if it is going to rain on you.

You spend much of the show watching from side stage, dancing along to every song and singing at the top of your lungs. You’re pretty sure Murph didn’t realize how big of a fan you were when you didn’t miss a single lyric. A few times you caught him staring at you in awe, taking in the sight of you as you enjoyed every single second of the show.

He could hardly keep his hands off of you, circling your waist or holding onto your hips as you danced. It felt good. He felt safe. He sang along to the slower songs, his lips only inches from your ear as his deep voice ran shivers up your spine. Your eyes peered out into the crowd, and you saw him. Jake’s eyes locked on you as you were wrapped in Murph’s arms singing the words to ‘She’s Long Gone’. It felt a bit ironic, truthfully, because in a way you were. Or atleast, you wanted to be.

You let your eyes meet his as you mouth the words, his jaw hardening and his lips growing thin as he sipped from his beer. He was mad, maybe even jealous, probably both. You tried not to pay attention, looking up to see Murph standing behind you. His eyes met yours as he kissed the top of your head, sending a flutter of butterflies into your stomach.

You look over again to see him on his phone, feeling a buzz in your purse almost immediately. You pull your phone from your purse just enough to read his message.

Jake

9:16PM: What the fuck are you doing right now Y/N

You make eye contact with him as you shove the phone back into your purse and purposefully spin around in Murph’s arms to face him. He knows exactly what you’re doing. He’s watching your every move instead of his girlfriend right next to him. Let him watch. Let him feel how you felt.

It’s at that moment the guy next to you stumbles backwards, spilling his entire beer all over you.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps, “I’m so sorry.”

Murph immediately grows stiff behind you, “Hey man, watch yourself.”

“My bad dude,” he growls.

“Yeah, it was your bad. Watch yourself next time,” he snaps.

You turn to Murph and give him a reassuring nod, “It’s okay, let me just go to the bathroom and clean up real quick,” you say.

“I’ll go with you,” he answers, a crackle of thunder rumbling in the distance.

“No, no. You stay here. Don’t lose our spot. I will be right back, promise.”

“Alright, don’t be long or I’ll come looking for you,” he smiles, squeezing your arm.

You make your way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning off the spilled beer and freshening up your makeup. You can hear them starting the encore, just as you step out into the crowd. You see the man that spilled his beer on you approaching you with a smug look on his face.

“Hey, sorry about that sweetheart. Let me make it up to you? Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.

“Um, no. I need to get back to my date, actually,” you answer.

“That brute?” he asks in his thick accent.

“Yeah. That brute,” you scoff.

His hand reaches for you as you walk away, grabbing your arm and pulling you back towards him. You see him go flying across the crowd as Murph pushes him off of you, pulling you behind him in a matter of a second.

“No one ever teach you not to grab a lady?” he says, spitting venom at the man. “I think you should go.”

“Go where?” she spits.

“Somewhere,” Murph says, and you can feel the fury pouring off of him. “Would be in your best interest to get far fucking away from me, sir. And as quickly as possible.”

He looks Murph up and down, quickly realizing he is no match for him. Not in this lifetime at least. The man mumbles something in a different language and walks in the other direction, admitting defeat.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Murph, I didn’t think he would follow me,” you whine.

“Not your fault, baby. Let’s go, yeah? Encore is almost over.”

“Okay, yeah. Hey, thanks for that,” you say, linking your fingers with his. He immediately softens, the tension releasing from his demeanor.

“Of course, wish I could have been there the first time,” he grins.

“Yeah, me too,” you say, thinking of Jake coming to your rescue, and if you truly meant that.

“Just gotta find the guys and then we can go,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. Another crack of thunder lights up the sky, and you know it's about to pour.

“I’m with you,” you smile, following happily at his side as the rain finally does start to fall around you.

—

JAKE POV

“You guys all good? Everyone here and accounted for?” Murph asks as he stands just outside of the awning of the back exit of the venue.

“We’re fine, you can go,” you bark under your breath, earning yourself a slight of Murph’s eyes. Y/N is standing beside him, his soaked leather jacket draped over her head as she watches him do his job. She’s not complaining, she doesn’t seem bothered by the cold, pouring rain at all. She actually looks…

He’s soaking wet, completely unbothered by the rain soaking through his shirt, too. Does this guy feel anything? Ever? Fucking man’s man.

As you slip through the back private door exit into the pouring rain behind them, you can’t help but feel overwhelmingly defeated. Defeated, and also so fucking envious that you know that your eyes are turning green. You can feel Isla’s finger slip through your back belt loop, following behind you as she shields herself from the blowing rain. You make little to no effort to hold her hand, or offer her your jacket, because frankly, you just don’t fucking think to.

All you can think of is seeing her hand in Murph’s, the genuine smile on her face as he pulled her toward backstage, and the joy in her eyes as he tossed his jacket over her head as they rushed outside. Fuck him. Fuck it. Does he even have any fucking clue that you and her–

No. He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, because if she had told him about you and her, he would not be pursuing her right now. So he’s living blindly. Great.

Your hands are almost visibly shaking as you think about what they’re probably going to do tonight, and the way you left things with her. You still crave her, want to be involved with every little detail of her life, but now… god dammit, everything is ruined. Totally and completely fucking ruined.

Josh swings the door to the van open as you let everyone else climb inside ahead of you. You feel Isla’s finger slip free finally, and you let her climb in before you, hoping that there won’t be any room left for you to sit beside her.

But of course, your luck has run all the way out, and the only seat left in the van is squished in beside Mia, Danny, and her. She pats the seat, giving you her faux- fuck me eyes. “Sit here, baby, plenty of room…”

You audibly groan, contemplating walking for just a second before a loud crack of thunder shakes the air, forcing you inside the van. As it takes off through the puddling rain, you stare out the window in an attempt to ignore Isla’s wandering hand on your knee, getting way too close for comfort.

It’s as you grip her hand in yours and pull it away that you catch sight of them, Y/N and Murph booking it down the sidewalk toward the parking lot, hand in hand as their faces are lit up with laughter. She’s smiling so big as the rain soaks her clothing, seeming to have no care in the world as they make the tight turn into the lot. Before you lose sight of them, you catch him throwing his arm around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head. It takes everything in you to not punch the window and break every single piece of glass from it, letting it shatter and cut your hands as you yell obscenities through the air. Who the fuck does he think he is?!

You’re sick with rage, the jealousy so overwhelming you swear you might be going insane. You feel your breathing pick up and your jaw tighten, physically ill with the thought of his hands on her. Where your hands belong. You think back to last night in the gym, how she yelled at you, how she seemed so distraught, and so disappointed in how things had worked out. Your heart is deafening in your ears, your fists balled up tightly as you try to talk yourself down.

Has she forgotten all the things you said to her? All the promises you made, all the honesty you’d shown when you let your guard down? Is she really about to waste it all?

Suddenly Isla’s hand on your thigh seems a lot less like an aggravation, and a lot more like the perfect opportunity, presenting itself on a silver platter.

Suddenly a slew of evil thoughts creep into the back corners of your mind, spiteful and grating as the bitterness takes up shop in your bones like a family of snakes.

Suddenly, resentment is the only emotion you feel.

—

HER POV

Your hand is on Murph’s thigh as he zips in and out of traffic as you leave the venue. Your whole body is buzzing after watching him show his authority to that stupid drunk guy, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said your mind hadn’t already traveled to some dark places in just the few short minutes you’d been in the car.

“That guy was a fucking idiot, Y/N. I almost fucking throttled him right then and there…” he says through gritted teeth. You squeeze his leg, trying your best to calm him, or even better, get him worked up in another way.

“It was fine, he was fine…I was handling it, I’m—”

“He spilled his beer all over you, Y/N! That’s not fucking okay! Following you? Grabbing you?” he stopped there, tapping his fingers angrily on the steering wheel.

“Well, it’s a good thing your friend was the one working their security tonight, right? You don’t always have to take care of everyone all the time, ya know…” you tried to speak quietly.

“Yes I do, Y/N. I don’t know any other way. Especially when it comes to someone like you…” he goes on, his eyes never leaving the road. He’s hunched forward in his seat, the windshield wipers on full blast as they swipe the raindrops falling heavily on the windshield.

“Someone like me?” You ask, hoping that he will explain further. Your body is burning with want for him, watching as his hands white-knuckle the wheel, and his left foot taps against the floorboards. The rain is still dripping down his cheeks, the top-half of his t-shirt almost completely soaked, making the material stick to his toned arms just a little too perfectly.

You shudder under the warmth of his jacket that he threw over you as you ran out the side exit into the downpour, ready to be away from the chaos that had just ensued inside.

“Yeah, someone like you. Someone I’m determined to keep around,” he says, giving you a quick glance from the side of his eye.

Your hand squeezes tighter around his thigh, and you feel no shame in moving it just a little higher. “You want me around?” you purr, like you don’t already know how into you he is.

He takes a deep breath as you near the parking lot of your hotel, his body slowly but surely calming from his adrenaline rush. “Yeah, I want you around. I want you around really fucking bad…” his hand mirrors yours, drifting to wrap almost completely around your leg, choosing a spot much, much higher than the one where your hand rests on his.

You almost moaned at his touch, his hand warm against the bare, chilled skin of your legs. You suck in a quick breath at his show of what is obviously desperation.

“Murph…” you breathe, your voice almost choked as you rise from your seat a little more, begging him to move his hand, dig his fingers in, anything…

“What, baby? Tell me what you want…” he growls, his chest heaving a little as one hand steers the car, while the other steers you into oblivion.

You exhale hard as his grip tightens, the pads of his fingertips adding extra pressure as he slowly ascends higher and higher on your leg.

The stoplight hanging above you turns red, and you curse it, or thank it, really…for giving you a second.

“I want…I—” you can hardly form the words, and he is hardly even touching you.

When you refuse to answer him, he retreats, his hand drifting away now down toward your knee.

“No, don’t…”

He’s finally able to make eye contact with you as the light stays red. “I said tell me, Y/N. Tell me exactly what you want, and I’ll give it to you, whatever you want…” he shakes his head slowly as he talks, promising you his whole world like he doesn’t even know he’s slowly destroying yours.

“Want you to—to touch me, please, Murph. I—”

Without a word his hand climbs up again, snaking underneath your skirt to cup his palm directly over your cunt. The feeling is enough to pull a quiet whine from your chest, and you grip both armrests with haste as he presses two fingers expertly exactly where you need them.

“Fuck…” you breathe, his fingers slowly beginning to move.

The light turns green, and you slowly take off again. “This it? This what you wanted?” he asks.

You nod hard. “Mhm, yeah…” your legs fall apart a little bit on their own, your body pleading for him to have more access to you. Where the fuck is the hotel?!

You hear him breathing heavily as you know he wants nothing more than to touch you better, watch your face as his fingers move across you, already dripping wet for him.

As his fingers pull your panties to the side with one quick motion, your entire body feels like it’s about to erupt into flames. His fingers finally connect with you, skin on skin, and it’s almost too much. Your arms pick you up from your seat a little as your head hits the headrest, your mouth falling open as his middle finger connects with your clit.

“Oh my god…” you mutter, a little more loudly than earlier. Your new position allows him to dip his fingers low again, brushing against your opening and dragging your wetness through your folds. Your hand finds his arm, squeezing the muscle as you feel his tendons tighten and loosen as he works his hand expertly beneath your skirt.

You take a second to glance down, his hand completely hidden by the material of your skirt. The visual is all-encompassing as the lightning flashes another loud rumble of thunder through the air.

“God I can’t wait to park this fucking car,” Murph grits as he pulls into the private parking garage. It’s generally empty, save for a few cars here and there that look like they haven’t moved in a while. Most of the overhead lights are burnt out, leaving the garage nothing but a winding maze of shadows.

Murph whips the vehicle into a parking place against the back wall, into an area not illuminated with much light, at all. As soon as he puts it in park, he reaches underneath the seat to pull the lever, sending his chair as far back as it will go.

“Get the fuck over here,” he demands, holding up the two fingers that were just nearly inside you up, motioning for you to climb over the console.

You do as he asks, clambering over top of the center console and falling into his lap. One knee on either side of him, you press your entire body weight into him, both of you still soaked and frozen from the rain.

His hands are immediately gripping the backs of your thighs, jerking you into a position that he’s happy with as you grab his face, pressing your lips hard against his. Both of you are ripping and tearing at each other’s clothes, nails scraping and pulling across the skin of one another as your yearning finally comes to a head.

Your arms snake from his face to around his neck, your fingers catching the bill of his backwards hat, tearing it off his head and throwing it into the backseat. For the first time, you see his full head of dark, straight hair, a tousled mess, but matching the brown of his eyes perfectly.

You take his strands between the cracks of your fingers, pulling and twisting it into your grasp as he starts to make noises, now. Your tongues are fighting each other, the sweetness of the taste of him bringing you back to all the other times you’ve kissed him, but none ever this intense. None ever this desperate.

You take the time to press yourself down against his lap, finally feeling him hard and ready between your legs. He moans into your mouth, his hands now snaked up under your skirt again, his hands fully cupping both your asscheeks.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, baby…” he says as you break away for a second. “Feel so fuckin’ good…”

“You haven’t even felt me yet, Murph…” you laugh.

“Don’t need to feel you to know how good you are…how perfect…” he praises through pants of air. You reach behind you, searching with your hand until you find his cock, basically bursting at the seams of his still-damp jeans. You brush your hand across it a little before you squeeze. Just that touch makes him jump, his hands disconnecting from you for just a second as he gathers himself, his head rolling back a little as he grips your face in his hands, returning back to the heated kiss.

“Unbutton your jeans, Ezra,” you finally demand, unable to take this foreplay any longer.

He wordlessly obeys your command, lifting you up with one hand while the other does what you want, and unbuckles his belt. You never let up on moving your lips across his neck and behind his ear, needing him to know how badly you want this. You want him.

You can feel your arousal pooling again as his fingers fidget so closely to where you need them, but finally you hear the sound of his zipper pulling down, and the feeling of his dick springing free.

You sit back, your back almost hitting the steering wheel as you take a good look at him, hair a mess and face flushed in the darkness, before letting your eyes travel down his torso and land on his cock.

Your hand gravitates to it, wasting no time in letting yourself feel him, finally. His left hand shoots behind him and wraps around the headrest, while the other one trails along your face, your shoulder, your hip…

Your hand begins to work him, barely enough material in his jeans and boxers to give him enough room to spring all the way free. “Fuck, Y/N…” he breathes, bucking his hips up into your touch. Your eyes flitter to watch his face, his eyelids hooded and his mouth hanging open.

“I don’t have any protection…” he finally admits, breathing out a dissatisfied sigh.

“Good thing I don’t care,” you respond, surprising yourself. You know you aren’t ovulating, and you know Murph isn’t the type of man to even let you get this far if you had anything else to worry about. Your mind is spinning too fast and your body is ravaging itself with want too badly to care, anyway.

You wrap your arms around his neck again, sitting up as you let yourself search for his tip. Your hips swirl around a little until you finally find it, teasing yourself just a little as you let your wetness coat him.

“Are you sure, baby…” he begs, truly showing his gentlemanly morals, as far in as you already are.

“Do I have anything to worry about?” you ask, feeling a little annoyed.

He shakes his head quickly from side to side. “No. I promise.”

“Good then, I’m positive…” you respond, lining up perfectly with him. You slowly begin to sink yourself down on him, letting your body adjust to this new stretch as you do so. “Ffff…” you breathe out as you realize he just keeps filling you and filling you, so deliciously sweet you think you could come undone already.

The sounds that escape both of you bounce off the windows of the car as the steam already starts to coat them, both of you unable to utter a coherent word at all. You lift off of him again, finding him to be of notable size, before sinking back down and bottoming out again. “Shit, Y/N… my god, baby…” he says as he brushes your damp hair from your face, giving your whole body an up-down.

“Mhmm…” you agree, pressing your chest back to his as you lean forward, starting to find a little bit of a rhythm. Things are always more difficult in a vehicle, especially in the cramped front seat of one, but you could truly care less that your knee is shoving into the seatbelt and your head is hitting the top of the cab.

His hands are traveling all over you, warming your skin as they do, and you wish that he could touch you all over and caress the places he can’t reach, all for the sake of warming you up. Your handles, your sides, your breasts… he takes special care to take his time and memorize you, all while the both of you are straining to keep yourselves together.

“Fuck, you feel good,” you say as your hands dig in to his pecs.

“All yours baby, take what you want,” he growls, thrusting up into you.

He buries his head in your chest, and you silently thank Ruth for the shirt suggestion. His lips drag warm and wet across your chest, pulling the fabric of your shirt to the side to reveal your chest. He drags his teeth against your sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to rise and your nipples to harden further.

“Baby, shit…”

“God, Ez, keep going,” you beg breathlessly.

The sounds filling the cab are lewd and wet and everything you knew this would be. His mouth is velvet against your skin as your fingers grip harder into his hair. You start to roll your hips to meet his thrusts, knowing you aren’t going to last very much longer, especially in this position.

“Y/N,” he groans, letting his hands rest at the curve of your waist, “I want you, baby,” he pauses, gasping for air as he fights his release, “Want you all the time.”

His hips snap up into you, your eyes watering at the sensation. He feels so fucking good. “I want you,” you whine, tightening and fluttering around his cock.

“I’ll give it to you. You just fucking say it and I’ll give it to you,” he begs, needing desperately to claim you as his own.

His hand snakes down, his fingers circling rapidly over your swollen clit, pushing you over the edge.

“Murph, baby, yes! I’m there. I’m coming, fuck,” you cry out, the windows of the car practically dripping with condensation.

“Yeah, baby, me too, god you’re so fuckin’ sexy. Fuckin’ gorgeous, cum Y/N, let me fill you,” he says, thrusting into you one last time as you both meet your collective release.

Your name falls from his lips as you gasp his, your hands never leaving his hair as you unravel around him. You feel him warm and full inside of you, his eyes rolled back in his head as he starts to come down.

“I don’t wanna move,” you smile, pressing your lips to his.

“Don’t have to. More than happy to keep you right here, just like this,” he grins, nipping at your bottom lip. “Though I’d love to take you back to my room to get cleaned up.”

“Yeah? You want more?” you tease.

“I’ll never get enough of you girl,” he says, a little bit of an accent peeking through.

“Makes two of us,” you grin, rolling your hips one last time before lifting up off of him.

“I think we have early call time tomorrow, though,” he says, seemingly disappointed.

“We do. Full day, but then we have a week off,” you say, raising your eyebrows suggestively.

“Hmm, and just what am I gonna do with you for a full week,” he teases.

“I can think of a few things,” you wink.

“Come on, trouble. Let me walk you back to your room.”

—

JAKE POV

Pulling back into the hotel, you find yourself still reeling with madness, hoping to god you don’t run into Y/N and Murph in the lobby. It’d be in their best interest to stay far, far away from you right now.

You feel Josh at your side as you shake your jacket free of the residual rain and beeline toward the elevator, daring someone to even try and talk to you.

“Jake, baby, I’ll see you upstairs?” Isla asks from across the lobby as Lyla pulls her to the hotel bar. “We’re just having one drink.” You nod at her and wave her off, not really giving a fuck. Your mind is still rushing with those horrible thoughts of revenge, and you tell yourself that it would be the most delicious thing right now, to get a taste of retaliation and forbidden fruit at the same time. It’s fucking dirty and you know it, but it makes the thought all the more alluring.

“Hey, asshole, do not do what I think you’re gonna do…” you hear Josh in your ear as you step onto the elevator, Ty right behind him.

“Yeah, Jake, we saw them going to the parking garage too, I know you’re fucking seething with jealousy right now, but do not do this…” Ty agrees as you press the button for your floor repeatedly.

You cross your arms in front of you, staring up at the ceiling as you ignore them. Your skin is absolutely freezing, but it’s almost as if you can’t even feel it, completely numb physically and emotionally.

“I’m going to do whatever I fucking want,” you say, keeping monotone.

“Jake, I know you think that this is a good idea right now, but I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow and find out you fucking slept with her–” Josh grits in your ear, and you know he will probably make your life a living hell. But in all actuality, he doesn’t have to know shit.

The elevator dings for your floor, and you make a quick exit, leaving the two of them without another glance. “Night.”

You make a mad dash to your room, ripping your wet clothes off and changing into a pair of loose black sweatpants, forgoing a shirt. You make your way to the mini bar, grabbing two bottles of tequila and a cup, deciding to dig into the half-melted ice in the bucket from earlier in the day. You crack them open and pour them over the melted ice, drinking down half of it in one swallow.

What the fuck are you even thinking?

Suddenly Isla bursts back into the room, and that one drink at the bar must have ended pretty quickly, as she still had the bar glass full in her hand. “Heyyyyy baby!” she gloats with a hiccup. “I couldn’t wait any more, I wanted to come back up here with you…”

You recline back in your spot on the bed, grabbing your phone to mindlessly scroll as you attempt to ignore her. You’re going to fight this tooth and nail…

She begins dancing around the room, sipping her drink as she does. She’s singing a familiar tune, and it only takes you a few seconds to recognize it as a Keys song from tonight. You pay a little bit more attention, noticing that she isn’t singing any of the words correctly.

“Isla, get the words right, or don’t sing it at all. You’re insulting them,” you say, cutting your eyes at her.

She scoffs, “Ugh, at least I’m trying, their music just… was never really my cup of tea.”

You nearly choke on your own tongue. “Uh excuse me? They’ve been one of my biggest influences for the past ten years, all I fucking play and you don’t even like their music? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorrrrrry!” She falls onto the bed belly first, giggling at herself as she bounces. “They’re just kind of boring, I guess.”

If you weren’t insulted by the wrong lyrics, you’re fucking insulted now. No wonder things aren’t working out between the two of you. You toss back another drink of your liquor, resorting back to your phone to occupy you. Images of Murph and Y/N litter your mind again, and the envy piles back up in your chest, wondering what the hell they are doing right now. How fucking could she? And how the fuck could he?? His job is to come here and work for you, not galavant around with his coworkers…

Your eyes are caught watching the same video on repeat when Isla stands back up and pulls her shirt over her head, tossing it to her bag in the corner. You can't help but let your eyes drift, watching as she pulls her tight skirt down, revealing her perfectly proportioned body in a matching deep purple lace set. You swallow as you watch her move, running her hands over her body as she adjusts the thong, then as she runs her hands through her long tousled hair.

Fuck, look away.

She turns, her left hand lightly cupping her breast as she faces you completely, hardly paying you any mind as she lifts her drink to her lips again. She slowly sits on the edge of the bed, running her hand over her legs in an attempt to warm herself up. “That was a really good show though, wasn’t it Jake?” she asks, her eyes flicking to you for just a second as the remnants of her red lipstick stick to the white straw. “I see why you love them so much, and I’m sorry I never paid much attention before. ‘M gonna download a bunch of their songs right now…”

Your nose scrunches up in disbelief. She what?

“Yeah um, they’re excellent. Been around a really long time,” you agree, clearing your throat as you speak. She tilts her drink back a little as she nears the bottom of it, scrolling on her phone as she plays the beginnings of the Keys most popular songs. She stretches her neck as she listens and bobs her head, adding the songs to her playlist as she goes. Your eyes can’t help but wander again, taking in the shape of her back and legs, once all yours for the taking.

Her lingerie looks familiar, but you don’t want to let your eyes sit too long to figure out why. She stands and flips the lamp by the bed off, placing her empty glass on the nightstand. She lays down beside you, still completely invested in her phone and her music, humming along to the songs as she plays them.

For a second, things feel like they did a year ago, the two of you in a comfortable silence as you minded your own business, just happy to be in each others’ presence. No arguing, no yelling, just listening to music and being near one another.

It feels… nice.

She’s ignoring you altogether now, watching the videos she took tonight as she smiles and laughs at them, sending a few to Mia and Lyla.

Her hair is so long that the ends of it are tickling your arm, sending a little bit of a chill through your body. Your eyes begin to blur from the straight tequila, a familiar warmth coming through your veins. Suddenly memories come flowing back of the last time you saw her in that set, your brain racking with visions of her trying to take it off, but you making her leave it on.

You feel a wave of anxiousness shoot through you as her eyes pop to yours, catching you looking at her. “What are you looking at, Jacob?” she asks flatly.

“Nothing,” you reply, your eyes shooting back to your phone.

“Doesn’t look like nothing…” she grins, her eyes going back to her phone, too.

Before you can stop the words, they fall freely from your mouth. “Why did you wear that under your dress tonight?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “I dunno, it has good memories attached to it. Was hoping you’d take it off of me… You bought it for me for our anniversary last year, remember?”

Ah, that’s why it’s so familiar.

“Oh yeah, I remember,” you reply, and suddenly you remember a lot more from that night. Dinner and drinks had turned into a wild night, both of you passing out on the couch completely nude after not having made it back to the bed, at all.

“But, that didn’t happen,” she goes on, “I didn’t wanna waste it again, so I’m just wearing it for myself.” Her voice is light and airy, the complete opposite of what it normally is these days. The normal weight that sits above the two of you suddenly feels like a cloud full of sunlight, and you can’t lie, your sex-starved mind is having trouble taking your eyes off of her as her thumb mindlessly runs along the front seam of her thong.

She crosses one of her legs over the other as they’re bent up on the bed, her finger still scrolling through old Keys albums as she listens to her snippets, tapping her foot along in the air as the music plays. What the fuck, Jake? Get it together… Tooth and nail, remember? Tooth. And. Nail.

Just like she can read your mind, her free hand comes up and begins drifting over her skin, tickling herself just like she always does when she starts to get sleepy. You watch as her red fingernails lightly dust over her thighs and stomach, then along the side of her tit as she continues to ignore your existence, all the while you have begun to fight for your life through the lust that’s unabashedly coursing through your body. Ignore it Jake…

But the lust is too strong, and your need for revenge is greater than giving a fuck about the repercussions. Hell, Y/N is probably naked and under Murph right now, what do you have to lose? You remember the look Danny gave you at the show after Murph whispered in his ear, and the text that he sent you shortly thereafter that simply said ‘Yeah, it’s what you think’. She ignored you all day, your text at the show, won’t even give you the time or a second glance… Everything is fucked anyway…

Isla is still relaxed across the bed, slurping at the melted ice in the bottom of her glass without a care. Is she really ignoring you right now? After being so persistent the past few days, what switched?

Her fingers are still drifting, her tits sitting perfectly in the purple lace cups, and your hands begin to remember what they feel like when you squeezed them, that deep-rooted feeling of desire burning hot in your belly and chest. God damnit…

She moans a little yawn as she switches her crossed leg, obviously making a spectacle of her own body, but you swear on your life, she doesn’t seem to be doing it on purpose. She truly looks like she’s just laying and relaxing in her own little world on her phone. This is your old Isla. You hear another laugh fall from her lips as she’s now switched to texting in a group with Mia and Lyla, completely uncaring that you can fully see her screen. The sound is like music to your intoxicated ears, reminding you of all the times you would make her make that sound. When you would make her make even better sounds.

Truly, sex was never your issue. It came so naturally to the two of you that it felt habitual but in a good way, leaving little to discuss because you each knew the other's body so intimately, so perfectly. You feel your dick hardening in your jeans as you try to distract your thoughts, but also, why should you?

Just then, Isla sets her glass back down, turning her body to face you with her hand tucked up under her cheek. “Do you wish these were your hands on me, Jake? I can feel your eyes...”

You swallow harshly as you’re caught. “Maybe,” you growl.

She giggles, leaning in closely as her lips drift across yours. You feel her essence take over your senses, remembering the smell of her like it was yesterday. The intoxicating feeling of her body on yours when you weren’t screaming at each other tumbling back from its place in your memory box. Her hand drifts up to grip in your roots, pulling your face further into her, but not yet making contact.

You’re breathless as you watch her eyes scan yours, her brow furrowed as she tries to read you. Your chest is tight and your limbs are frozen in place. You feel like you’re unable to think as you decide on your next move. Your body wants to pick her up and bend her over, rip her thong to the side and fuck her into the headboard until she’s screaming your name… but your mind is begging you to stay away. Back out now. Run so far away that you get lost.

But the devil on your shoulder begins to win the fight as your body betrays you, your head leaning in to finally let your lips make contact with hers. Her grip on your hair tightens as she kisses you back, her tongue already diving deep into your mouth. You bite it, pulling on it with force before switching to holding it with your lips, popping it before you dive right back in.

Motherfucker she tastes so good, the cold tequila still very much present on her lips.

The both of you are ravenous once contact is made, your arms wrapping around her to lie her back into the pillows, giving you a bit more control as your hands begin to explore her body.

Fuck, this is so wrong. This is such a bad goddamned idea. Stop, just stop now, while you’re ahead…

But she tastes like fucking honey. And your dick is throbbing. And she’s so familiar, and gorgeous, and begging for you to fuck her…

She whimpers into your mouth as your hand drifts down to grip her tit, ripping the fabric away as your fingers pinch at her nipple, rolling it between your thumb and pointer finger. The sound alone makes your dick twitch in your pants, and all you can imagine is her hand on you, pulling you free from the confines of your boxers. Your hand moves from her tit to her side, gripping your fingertips into it as you move down to her hip, your mouths still fighting each other for dominance.

You press down on her hip with force, making one of her knees bend up. Your hand brushes across her stomach and down to her cunt, her body already bucking itself up into your touch and you haven’t even given it to her yet. You break away from the kiss, panting and sweating with blind lust as you look into her eyes, deep and dark as she bites her swollen lips together.

Finally she gives you what you want, her hand reaching between you to brush over your dick, hard as rock under her hand. “Hm, still get hard for me, huh Jacob? I knew you did–”

You silence her quickly with a harsh hand over her mouth blocking any more words from escaping. You pause, giving her a look so menacing you think it might scare her off, but instead, you feel her smile under it. She undoes the button of your jeans with one quick motion, letting her hand dive inside your jeans and boxers, finding your cock with ease. You inhale sharply at the feeling of her grip, your jaw tightening down as you continue to press your hand on her mouth. She pulls your waistband down with her other hand as your dick springs free, bobbing and grazing the inside of her leg.

Her hand travels to tease the tip, lightly tickling over it as your eyes begin to roll back. Her eyebrows raise in question, and you know exactly what she’s thinking, the conniving–

You thrust into her hand, your entire self burning with desire to fill her up, but your hand presses on her mouth harder. Her leg falls to the side even more as your free hand reaches down to grip yourself, running it over the fabric of her thong. Her eyes close quickly as you tease her back, pushing the head of your dick against her opening, already drenched through the lace.

You kiss her again, but only once before breaking away. Your finger hooks in the seam of her thong, pulling it to the side as you use your hand to guide yourself into her, slowly, so fucking painfully slowly…

“You don’t say a mother fucking word about this to anyone, you hear me?” you ask quietly as you hold eye contact, your hand still covering her mouth. “No one knows.”

You stupid idiot motherfucker.

Your hand is still gripped on your shaft as you circle around her entrance, still only allowing yourself a few centimeters of access. “Do you hear me?” you ask, of which she responds with a quick nod.

“If you want me to fuck you, say yes… but if I hear of you sharing this with even fucking Lyla, I swear to god…”

You pull your hand away from her mouth for long enough to hear her speak. “Yes, Jake, please… I promise, it’s our secret… no one has to know…” she pleads, and you know she could be lying, but you’re already in this far. “Please, baby I need to feel you…” Finally, against every voice screaming at you in the back of your mind, you let your hips press into her all the way, her leg flying out to the side as her head tilts back into the pillows. “Ahhhh, oh my god oh my god baby…” she groans as you bottom out, and you have to admit, she still feels fucking perfect wrapped around you. One of the best you have ever fucking had.

Your mind is racing with thoughts so fast you can hardly see straight, the liquor definitely doing its job in assisting your lust. You pull out, your dick completely drenched with her wetness, before pushing back in again. You want to take it slow, enjoy every single second of your revenge, but on the other hand you want to get this over with. You know you’ve already made a grave mistake.

You maneuver yourself to place both hands on either side of her head, hovering over her completely now as her hands latch on to your sides, pulling you further into her. “God baby, harder, please…” she begs.

You tap her lips with your fingertips. “Shh. Quiet, remember?”

She nods accordingly, biting her lips to keep herself from screaming out. You place both of your knees between her legs as you sit back a little bit, taking in the blurry sight of her. So gorgeous and perfect just like you remember. Just as your eyes hit where the two of your bodies are connected, she reaches down with both hands, pulling her lips apart even further for you. The visual is enough to make you want to cum right then and there, and you groan loudly as you press into her again, a new sensation as her hands make her opening even tighter for you.

“Jacob, baby, I thought we were being quiet?” she says, biting into your shoulder.

You breathe a displeased huff as her teeth dig into your muscle, causing you to want to choke out another moan of pleasure. She knows exactly what she’s doing. You pick up with pace for real now, holding on to the back of the headboard as you lift one of her legs to bend to her chest, and wrapping the other one around your waist. You begin pounding into her with a force so dramatic the headboard is beating against the wall, but you could care less.

She’s still biting her lips, trying her best to hold her sounds in, but then again, you’re having a hard time, too. God, this feels so fucking good. But it doesn’t feel right. Not in the least. Your guilt is starting to sink in as you look down at Isla’s gorgeous face begging to scream your name, all the while imagining Y/N doing the same for you, not that long ago.

It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair. Your body has rejected you, your mind isn’t as strong as you thought. The most devastating mistake you could ever make is happening right now in real time, and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re not going to make it out alive.

Isla gushes around you as you feel her body tightening, her nails gripping into your sides as she makes her marks on you. She reaches behind your neck, pulling you down to her. You release your grip on the headboard and follow her guidance. “C’mere, baby, want you down here with me where I can see you, where I can feel you. Missed you so bad… wanted us again for so long. Fuck, you feel so goddamn good inside of me, baby…” she whispers, still following your instruction of being quiet. Her words were always the cherry on top of her already top-notch fucking, and you halfway consider flipping her to let her ride you, but you avoid the thought.

You slow things down as her hand still stays rested between you, the other still pulling at your hair drifting down into your face. You feel her hand move between you, massaging her clit as you begin to roll your hips at a slower pace. “What, I’m not enough for you?” you ask, swiping her hand away and taking over the motion yourself.

Isla laughs. “No, just wanted you to take that job over for me,” she smirks with a satisfied smile. Fuck, she did it again. You can feel her wetness all over your hand as you continue your languid swipes into her, your thumb working her up even more, now. The sounds that fill the room are wet and smacking, making the high you’re reaching for all the more craveable. She feels fucking perfect. But, you know that she is not.

Your hand covers her mouth again as her moans become closer and closer together, her eyes closing as her jaw falls open. You know she’s close, but you’re not going to let anyone hear the commotion if they happen to come knocking on your door.

“Gonna come, Jake… baby–” she says from behind your hand, and you feel her whole body tensing and tightening as her orgasm washes over her, her nails digging roughly into your sides. And the feeling of her coming apart beneath you for what had to be the thousandth time, finally feels like what would be the last.

Her pathetic sounds make you begin to throb inside her, and you know you’ll be following closely behind in a matter of seconds. You release your hold on her mouth as you steady yourself, your hands gripping hard into the sheets as the white light hits your eyes.

Jake, no.

At the very last second, you pull away from her, taking yourself in your hand and pumping a few times before you let yourself go, coating her stomach and legs with your release.

The both of you breathe through the comedowns, sweaty and panting as the reality of what just happened sets in. You hop up to get her a towel, returning to help her wipe herself clean.

“You could have, you know…” she says with disappointment.

You shake your head as you toss the rag to the floor and lay back down again, still out of breath. “No. I couldn’t have. How would I know if you skipped a pill or something?”

“Jake, I would never–”

“You wouldn’t? Are you sure about that?” you ask, proud of yourself for not making that mistake.

She stays quiet as she avoids eye contact with you. “You’re probably not even on it anymore, are you?” you ask. She solemnly shakes her head.

“Made me sick.”

You nod, knowing that that wasn’t a conversation that would have been appropriate at all in the past few months.

“This goes nowhere but in this bedroom, Isla, please promise me. You understand?” you ask. “It was a moment of weakness. This doesn’t change anything about where we stand.”

She sniffles her nose clear. “It changes nothing, huh?”

You swallow, finding the courage to speak on this once and for all. Finding a clear and level head like you’d never found it before. “Nothing.”

And it truly didn’t. You still feel the exact same. Though your bodies mesh so perfectly that it’s a sin in itself to go unacted upon, you know that the toxicity would come creeping back, just like it always does. It’s time to wash your hands clean.

“Do you still love me, Jake? Even a little bit?”

You shake your head. “No, Isla. It’s gone.”

—

HER POV

You roll over to find yourself in an unfamiliar place, your hair a mess over your eyes as the sunlight beams onto your face. You sit up in a hurry, the memories of last night coming back into your mind one by one. Ezra’s room. You calm a little as you brush the strands from your eyes, huffing a breath of relief as you search around the room for him, but you come up short.

The bathroom light is off, and you notice that his boots are not by the door. You glance to the clock to find it still fairly early, your call time not for another hour. There, laying on the nightstand by the clock, is a folded piece of white paper with your name written on the front in scribbled pen. You pick it up and unfold it, finding it to be the receipt from the place you’d grabbed a late, greasy dinner with Murph at a place by the hotel last night. He’d insisted that you eat, even though you both were a soaked, freezing, post-sex mess.

Mornin’ sunshine

Couldn’t wake you, you looked too damn pretty

Had a great time with you last night

The boys are gonna have a hard time knockin this smile off my face today

But I won’t tell them why : )

The breakfast downstairs ain’t my momma’s, but it’s close

See you later on baby

-Ezra

You swoon at the fact he left you a love note to wake up to, and you fold it back up, tucking it perfectly into your purse that lied on the floor by the bed. Your mood has instantly changed, and you’d almost completely forgotten about the dramatics that Jake decided to add to the evening with his text and song addition last night.

He looked absolutely miserable. You know that his hands on Isla were just to piss you off and attempt to make you jealous, and they did to an extent, but really all it did was make you feel even worse for him. You know that if you hadn’t been standing there with Murph, he would have been enjoying the show with his brothers, one hand stuffed in his pocket and not wrapped around Isla’s waist in a petty attempt to jab at you.

Poor guy, honestly. Maybe you were too harsh on him in the gym. But damn, if it doesn’t feel like all Jake does is try to explain himself to you. Maybe one last try. One last go around of hearing his side of things…

You pick up your phone seeing a slew of notifications, but what you can’t seem to shake away is the song on repeat in your mind. The one he added to tell you how he feels. He doesn’t want to fight. Hell, you don’t want to fight either. It’s been exhausting. You toss your phone onto the bed as you run your fingers through your hair, deciding that against your better judgment you want to give Jake one more shot, one more chance to clear things up. You’ve got to be an adult about this, your job depends on it.

You make yourself look presentable, brushing your teeth and throwing on something more appropriate as you snatch a keycard from the dresser.

You know Isla will be in there with him, but she is going to give you a minute to speak to Jake. You have just as much dog in this fight as she does, given that Jake and everyone else has been telling you the truth about their relationship for all this time. You had somewhat of a relationship with him, too. And if you’re going to continue to work professionally by his side, you’re clearing it up. Now.

You make a quick pit stop in the downstairs lobby, grabbing not two, but three coffees and a handful of sugar packets. Peace offering. Like adults.

You rush back upstairs and knock a few times on his door, stepping back to gain your confidence to ask him to speak privately in the hall. No emotions, no ties. Just a chance to clear the air, that’s all you really want.

You hear a commotion behind the door and a high-pitched giggle that you instantly recognize. Suddenly the door swings open, revealing a scantily-clad Isla, her body wrapped up in the bed sheets that are hardly doing enough to cover her barren chest and legs. Oh. A quick glance behind her shows Jake in almost the same attire, sitting anxiously on the edge of the bed as he tries to cover himself.

Fucking shit.

You watch as his eyes fall shut and his face grimaces, knowing that this is the worst possible way they could have been caught. And that’s exactly what you did. You fucking caught them.

“Oh, hey, we didn’t order room service… Jake already ate plenty last night, but thanks anyway,” Isla smirks a harsh wink at you as she attempts to pull the sheet more tightly around her before slamming the door in your face.

Tears are already filling your eyes as you set the coffees down on the floor, rushing back off toward the elevator as quickly as you can. That was the last fucking thing you thought you’d see this morning.

Your breath is catching in your throat as you pace, and you hear the faint sound of Jake’s voice yelling after you as you get closer to your destination. You ignore it, but hear it and his footsteps getting closer. Fuck him, fuck all of this.

Finally you reach the metal doors, pressing the button over and over and over until it finally springs open and you step inside, watching the image of Jake running down the hall toward you, your name falling from his lips as the doors cut him off. You hear his fists bang on the cold metal before it takes off on its descent, leaving your heart to plummet to the ground right along with it.

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aziraphales-library · 1 year

Note

Hi! I feel like in a lot of fics Crowley will casually flirt with Aziraphale (before they're together) making him flustered and i wondered if you knew of any fics where it's the opposite? Like where Aziraphale will casually just flirt with Crowley? I'd just like some confident Aziraphale and some flustered Crowley tbh. It could be any rating ^_^

Thanks in advance!!!

Hello. We have a plentiful #flustered crowley tag that you should check out for more fics like this. Here are some more to add to the collection...

Strawberry Meringues by heldtogetherwithstring (G)

Aziraphale and Crowley finally have their picnic, during which they discuss the invention of meringues and the discovery of honey. The St James Park duck population watches in approval, but neither they nor Crowley could have predicted what Aziraphale's next move would be. OR Aziraphale and Crowley have been pining for so long and Azirphale decides enough is enough.

Sunk On You by Ambra_Sue (T)

When Crowley had to bring his nephew Adam to swimming lessons, he didn't expect to sink quite so fast for the hot, blond swim teacher.

The Burning of Sulphur (Reminds me I'm Home) by Fizzy25 (T)

Crowley wonders if this is what he was made for. If he was made to only admire Aziraphale. If every moment in his life, the stars, the fall, the apple, was only a prelude to this singular moment. He wonders if there will never be anymore to them. Crowley hopes that he will be content with this. In which Crowley is a lovesick, touched-starved occult being who is too in love with Aziraphale to do anything but stare.

Ice to Meet You (Dutch Waltz Into My Heart) by BooknerdMiss (G)

Crowley takes (read: is dragged by) his nephew Warlock to a professional sporting event that he's less-than-thrilled about. Lucky for him, he gets to sit by an angel.

Extraordinary Amounts of Alcohol by AppleSeeds (T)

Crowley gets extremely drunk and stumbles into Aziraphale's bedroom, mistaking it for the bathroom. Crowley doesn't remember much of what happened or anything about his drunken confessions, but Aziraphale does... He just needs to work out whether Crowley really meant what he said or whether it was just alcohol-induced rambling, and what better way to find out than to see how Crowley responds to a bit of subtle, and slightly less than subtle, flirting?

at the airport terminal by bearwonder (E)

Crowley has worked the same soulless job for two decades, and he hasn't had anyone to talk to since his pet snake died a couple years ago. When Industrial Holdings (Holdings) PLC sends him to their annual conference in the US, he expects a week of mind-numbing boredom bookended by two torturous half-days spent in airplanes. But as fate would have it, an embarrassing mishap leads him to meet an unrelentingly positive flight attendant who smiles at him like he's a real human being, and makes him think that maybe, if he plays this right, he won’t have to die alone.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #flustered crowley #flirting #mod d

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loosingmoreletters · 8 months

Note

For the ask game and because I’m soooo curious about what you’ll do with this: best friends sibling au for wangxian

The way I needed a second to parse this prompt. It’s best friend’s sibling, right?

Wei Wuxian is smart, the kind of smart that meant you either went down in the history books for revolutionizing cultivation or died trying. He knows that most people assume he’s going to die trying in the attempt. He’s fairly sure his mother has had his eulogy written since he was ten and his father started picking out coffins when he hit thirteen.

It’s whatever, Wei Wuxian’s got a goal in life, and he won’t stop accelerating until he reaches it.

Everyone knows it, and he supposes that’s the reason he got introduced to Lan Xichen at the itty-bitty age of five. Well, introduced, is a rather generous way to say his mom grabbed Lan Xichen and plopped him in front of Wei Wuxian in a sort of “behold, a fellow child” movement, mortifying everyone else in attendance, particularly Uncle Lan.

Wei Wuxian struggled to get along with his agemates, outpacing them easily, and Lan Xichen apparently needed someone to poke fun at him before he turned into a total rock. They had an odd give and take relationship, and not just because Wei Wuxian’s parents were independent cultivators and homeschooled him all over the world.

At sixteen, Wei Wuxian knew that Lan Xichen latched on to him because of the end result of a messy divorce. Sects, even in this day and age, didn’t particularly condone divorce. Separation tended to be the end all, which was the reason why they never got to see Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli on the weekends.

But Lan Xichen’s parents had gone through a divorce and Gusu Lan got to keep their sect heir and Lan Xichen’s mom her youngest. She’d wanted custody of both children, but the sects wouldn’t ever allow that.

And all of this culminated in Wei Wuxian accompanying Lan Xichen to the airport to pick said younger brother up. Well, that and the broken arm. Cultivation didn’t revolutionize itself and Wei Wuxian suspected that if he’d spent another hour in the library, Uncle Lan would’ve thrown him out himself.

Lan Wangji, the brother to be picked up and taken to Gusu for the first time in ten years, was sixteen, like Wei Wuxian himself, but that didn’t mean much given how much better Wei Wuxian did around older peers.

And apparently he looked a lot like Lan Xichen—

Oh.

“Well, that was a fucking lie,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Xichen the moment he spotted what could only be Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian supposed that at first glance, Lan Wangji looked a lot like Lan Xichen to someone who’d seen Lan Xichen out of sect robes, but a simple comparison didn’t measure up.

“You never told me your brother was hot,” Wei Wuxian hissed. “How have I known you for two thirds of my life and never known your brother was hot?”

“I’ve shown you photos,” Lan Xichen pointed out.

Well, yeah, but Wei Wuxian hadn’t wanted to see them because he’d been dragged to the Cloud Recesses by his mother only to be told that Lan Xichen would be gone for the summer, visiting his brother and mother. And the Lan Wangji in those pictures had been inherently ugly by virtue of stealing Wei Wuxian’s best friend.

This Lan Wangji was not.

“Does Uncle Lan know your brother has an undercut?”

Holy shit, Wei Wuxian needed to touch Lan Wangji’s head so badly. Squish his face between his hands and bite his lips.

“No,” Lan Xichen said and waved at the Hottest Man Alive, trademark pending. “Would you do me the favor and tell him?”

Wei Wuxian turned to his best friend and snorted. “I love you, but if I piss of Uncle Lan one more time, he’s banning me from the Cloud Reccesses too.”

“Thought so.”

#mdzs #wangxian #lan xichen #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mdzs fanfic #fanfic #ask #anon #prompts

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suhyla · 5 months

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I know, I know. I cringe at the “Coffee = Love” Instagram posts too.

But back when my relationship with my dad had gotten pretty sour — one thing remained constant: my dad would get me an iced coffee every night, even learning to make it himself when my favorite coffee spot was closed. It was such a simple gesture but it meant so much to me. It was an act of love.

So much has changed since then. Different cities. Different people in my life. I myself have changed so much. But it’s so comforting that people express love for me the same way — over coffee.

A few months ago I spent a week with some of the most phenomenal people I ever met. Saying goodbye felt so bittersweet. Who knew one could have so much love for people they’ve only known for a week? And when we realized some of us would be in the airport at the same time, we hurried over to their gate to say one final goodbye before our flights. When one of those dear friends bid me farewell with a latte, I felt my eyes water. What a fitting end.

When I was late for taraweeh and couldn’t grab coffee beforehand, the sweetest girls ran up to me, saying their friend was on the way and would pick one up for me. When my favorite coffee shop was closed, my friends surprised me and drove us to another location instead of going home. I invited a friend I met only once to an event I thought might interest them. They greeted me with a hot cup of coffee with cardamom, because I liked it so much when we last met. My brother and I have gotten closer for the first time. I knew something was different when he began picking me up, an iced coffee waiting for me in the cup holder. I love the friends who walk me to grab coffee, though they don’t drink it, and the ones who send me cafe recommendations they heard of from other friends.

At its core, each of these memories is filled with love. More importantly, how beautiful is it that Allah, who knows us most intimately, gifts us with people who love us in the ways that are most meaningful to us. Every time someone has gone out of their way to make, pick up, try, or share a coffee with me, I have been filled with so much warmth. I have been filled with so much love.

instagram

#coffee #love language #love #poetry #words #poems #love poem

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lonelywhalien22 · 2 years

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pretty lies - part nine (finale)

pairing: vernon x reader

rating/genre: enemies to lovers, slow burn, ANGSTY fluff, band au

summary: supporting your friend mingyu becomes way more than you ever could have bargained for when you become involved with one of his bandmates

warnings: cussing, vernon has issues in this story but please remember this is a work of fiction, mingyu stans don’t hate me but mingyu and reader are just friends

*credit: the lyrics referenced in this chapter are not mine, they are from the actual song black eye by vernon. and if you really wanna nerd out with me, listen to the band live session version he released, as that is what i imagined specifically while writing this part - trust me, it hits different.*

word count: 6.4k

prev. chapt. | series masterlist

~One year later~

“Ok, I think that’s enough for today,” you said to yourself, wiping the back of your hand across your brow as you stood up from your crouched position. You glanced around your apartment, trying to find your glass of water as you caught your breath.

Your living room was full of cardboard boxes, some of them taped shut with short descriptions scribbled hastily on the outside while others were still open, various items thrown inside haphazardly. It was spring once again, but instead of the seasonal cleaning you loved to indulge in at the first sign of sunny skies and warmer temperatures, you were moving out.

When you’d first been contacted about a competitive job offer a few months ago, you had immediately dismissed the idea. Though the hiring manager had been highly impressed with your skillset, the work would be notably different from what you were used to doing at your old job, and you doubted whether you could handle the requirements of the role. Your hesitation only became stronger when you were informed that you’d also have to relocate to take on the position.

What about my family? Mingyu and the rest of my friends? The life I have here? You’d spent weeks pondering the possible scenarios and all the things that would change if you took the offer, and you’d almost talked yourself into declining it. That was until you realized how much had already changed.

It had been nine months since the guys had left to go work on their recording with Woozi. You still remembered the final hugs you’d given to Jay and Mingyu at the airport before they’d gone through security, a certain third person having not yet arrived. You still wondered to this day if he’d purposely chosen to show up as late as possible or if it was you who had come extra early to avoid having to interact. Perhaps it was both.

You and Mingyu had facetimed pretty regularly for the first month that they were gone. Sometimes you’d even see Jay in the background during your video chats as well, the two of you exchanging greetings and asking how the other was doing. By the time the second month had come around however, the distance made it hard to always remember to keep in touch. Eventually you all became busier and busier, your lives naturally moving in different directions. No matter how much time passed though, Mingyu always made sure to at the very least share the bigger updates with you:

“Why’s it taking so long to finish recording? I thought you guys would have been back by now,” you asked during one of your monthly catch ups. It had been four months at this point since they’d left.

“Yeah me too. Woozi wanted it out sooner but his team advised against it. They thought it’d be best to let some time pass between the competition and the release so there would be less of a chance of his image getting tarnished with all the drama from the fight.” Mingyu skirted over that last part quickly, knowing that it was still a sore subject for you. “But in a weird way it works out well - with the extra time, we’re gonna be able to write some more stuff and put together a whole EP.”

“What is that? Like five or six songs? That’s so amazing, I can’t wait to hear them!”

“You know, you could always get a sneak peak if you flew out here for a few days,” Mingyu offered once again. He’d been trying to get you to come for weeks now. “Nikki’s already seen me twice since we left!”

“She’s your girlfriend, of course she has. And you know I don’t have the time anyways - my boss would never let me take off for that long.” It was true that your job was a pain in the ass, but you and Mingyu both knew you had other reasons for not coming to visit in person.

“Just promise you’ll come see us perform when the EP is released.”

“Of course. I’ll be there.”

Now in the present, when you really thought about it, you realized that there wasn’t much tying you to the place in which you currently resided. Watching Mingyu and the guys for so long had given you a taste of all the possibilities life had to offer, and you were tired of limiting yourself to what you currently knew when it wasn’t really doing you any favors anyways. The job offer had just been the final push you needed, and at last you felt ready and excited to pursue your own little sort of adventure. Even if it wasn’t as glamorous as flying across the country to work with world-renowned producers, it was yours and yours alone.

You pushed the boxes you’d been working on packing up to a corner of the room, ready to call it a day, when you heard your phone ring from somewhere in your apartment. Taking a few moments to find it amongst all the disarray, you managed to answer right before it went to voicemail.

“Hey, what time did you say your flight was landing?” It was Mingyu. You could hear lots of commotion in the background wherever he was, voices and instruments faintly reaching your ears.

“Should be around eleven in the morning.” With the career change you had several weeks of cherished personal time before you began your new job. Besides the time you’d need to relocate, you were finally able to take a few days to visit Mingyu and see what the band had been working on for yourself.

“Shit, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to meet you at the airport. We’re putting the final touches on some stuff and won’t be done until around one.” You could hear the regret in his voice, but all you could do was chuckle in response.

“I’m gonna get there Thursday and I’ll be staying all the way through the weekend. Trust me, you’re not missing much. Airports suck anyways.”

“I know, but still. We’re all looking forward to seeing you. It’s been way too long.”

You couldn’t help but wonder who was included in that “we,” but there was no way you were gonna ask.

“Well, that’ll all be fixed very soon,” you said instead, glancing over at your half packed suitcase.

“I’ll see if Nikki can meet you at the airport instead since she’s also visiting,” Mingyu offered. You squealed in excitement. Since the guys had left, you and Mingyu’s girlfriend had become pretty close, unsurprisingly. What had at first seemed like an obligatory relationship born out of a common bond had over time blossomed into a true friendship. She was definitely going to be someone you missed hanging out with when you moved.

“You should have started with that option,” you joked as you tried to figure out how many pairs of socks you needed to pack and where on earth you’d put them. “Tell her I need someone to show me around when I get there.”

“She’ll be glad to hear that,” Mingyu said happily before he was interrupted by someone on his end. “Y/n, I gotta go. But we’ll see you soon, ok?” he finished quickly.

“See you soon.”

—————

When your flight landed, it only took you a handful of minutes to find Nikki, the brunette jumping up and down excitedly as soon as she caught sight of you in baggage claim.

“Hey -” you greeted, letting out a slight “oof” as she gave you a big hug before immediately taking the bags you’d been carrying out of your hands.

“I’m so excited you’re here! How was the flight?”

“Good, just glad there weren’t any delays,” you said as you took a deep breath. You couldn’t believe you were really here, about to see the guys in person again after nearly a year.

“I know you’re probably hungry, but do you think you’d be good with just some snacks for now?” Nikki asked. “I tried talking him out of it but Mingyu’s insisting on everyone meeting up for lunch after they finish for today.”

“That’s fine,” you said as you began looking around for some place where you could buy some fruit or a salad, craving something fresh after being forced to eat airplane food. Nikki noticed the look in your eye, the way in which you immediately distracted yourself at the mention of the lunch. It was something that only she could have picked up on besides Mingyu, the two of them knowing the most about your past with a certain someone.

“In case you were wondering, he will be there,” she said softly, following behind you as you picked out a snack from a nearby stall and found your wallet to pay. “I just thought you’d wanna know.”

You let out a sigh.

“I appreciate that, but I’m fine. It’s been months,” you said simply.

Nikki only stared back at you, her brow raised slightly as she tried to keep herself from calling you out on your bullshit.

“Really. I am,” you insisted. “Is it gonna be awkward at first? Yeah, probably. But this was bound to happen at some point. Let’s hope he doesn’t hate me and everything should be fine,” you said jokingly at the end, hoping she’d believe you then.

“Ok…” Nikki said. She piped up again after a few beats. “You know y/n, he’s changed - since being out here.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not the same person he was the night of the Battle of the Bands competition.”

“Nikki,” you said with a warning tone, not liking where this was going.

“I’m not telling you to get back with him or anything,” her hands raised themselves innocently into the air. “I just don’t want you to let the way things ended between you two a year ago get in the way of you having a good time while you’re here,” she said gently.

“Thank you for that, but for the last time, I promise I am fine. Now - no more guy talk. Wasn’t there some thrift store you wanted to show me?” You brought up her weakness for clothes in an effort to change the subject once and for all.

“Say less,” Nikki said eagerly as she ushered you out of the airport and the two of you caught a ride to the hotel.

—————

“Y/n!”

Mingyu immediately pulled you into a hug that was even stronger than Nikki’s from earlier when he saw you. You couldn’t help the toothy smile that emerged on your face.

“Hey Mingyu,” you said simply. You really had missed your friend so much.

“Let her breathe,” Nikki chided playfully.

“Yeah, leave some hugs for the rest of us,” Jay said, arms open wide as you gave him a hug next.

“It’s so great to see you guys. I missed everyone so much.”

It was a little after one, and you and Nikki had finally met up with the guys to have a late lunch at a spot near the studio where they were recording. It was a bright and sunny day so you all had elected to eat at the patio seating out front. There was just one person missing though.

“Vernon’s running a little late but he’ll be here,” Mingyu said, seeing the question in your eyes. “He just had to finish going over some edits.”

Some things never change, you thought before you could stop yourself. You wondered if they were just covering for him with empty promises - if he’d somehow manage to avoid you for this entire trip.

You all finally sat down at a circular table outside. Mingyu and Nikki were to your right and Jay was to your left, leaving one last spot for Vernon just across from you.

“So what’s this I hear about you moving? And a new job? Congrats!” Jay started once a waitress had brought you all drinks. The four of you immediately began to catch up, most of the focus on you.

“I still can’t believe you’re gonna be gone,” Mingyu whined.

“I’m not dying, just moving. And now you know how I felt when you guys left,” you said playfully. “Who could have predicted we’d be spread all over the place like this?”

As you continued to chat, you couldn’t help but reminisce about where you all had been just a year ago - struggling to get by and constantly putting in overtime to make things work with the band, your day jobs, and your personal lives. And now look at you all, on your way to better things. It made you feel so proud when you really thought about it.

“I’m really sorry I’m late you guys.”

You all looked up at the interruption, seeing Vernon approach the table in a bit of disarray. He was clad in a simple white tee and light wash denim jeans, an unbuttoned light blue collared shirt layered over his tee. As he sat down, his hand came up to brush some hair out of his face, but a few stray strands fell onto his forehead anyways.

“Was it the sound engineer guy again?” Mingyu asked him knowingly with a smirk. Vernon laughed in response.

“Yeah - he went on a rant about compression techniques this time.”

“I told you to stop asking him questions,” Jay threw in, “you’re too curious for your own good sometimes man.”

“I know, I can’t help it, but anyways - ”

He looked over at you, a polite smile on his face as he scooted up his chair.

“Hi y/n.”

“Hi Vernon,” you said curtly with a tight-lipped smile. You looked down at the menu in your hands, eyes skimming over the entrees again even though you already knew what you wanted to order.

“So,” Nikki started, clearing her throat in the lingering silence. “What did you all work on today?”

“Just rehearsing the songs from the EP in preparation for the showcase,” Mingyu responded, the two of them tag-teaming on moving the conversation along.

“Vern’s been instrumental in helping us craft some amazing songs,” Jay propped the man up with a pat to his back.

“It’s all thanks to Woozi really,” Vernon brushed off shyly, but Mingyu shook his head adamantly.

“Don’t sell yourself short bro, you’ve done some great work on this.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Nikki piled on another compliment.

“Thanks guys.” Vernon let out a cheeky smile, looking down at his lap for a moment before fiddling with the menu on the table to distract himself, his cheeks burning.

You hadn’t really taken Nikki seriously at first when she’d said so earlier, but she was right - something was different about Vernon. He seemed lighter somehow. And it was quickly becoming apparent to you that the guys had grown much closer after working on music together for the last nine months. You could see it immediately in the way they interacted with each other, the three of them trading jokes and stories easily as you all waited for the waitress to come back.

“What’s that you mentioned about a showcase?” you asked.

“We’re putting on a performance the day after the EP is released,” Jay explained. “Woozi and Seventeen are gonna make an appearance as well, so we’ll likely be performing in front of thousands.”

“That’s incredible,” you said with a stunned expression.

“It’s part of the reason I wanted you to come this weekend specifically,” Mingyu said. “I’m not sure the timing would have lined up so nicely if you didn’t already happen to be moving -”

Nikki nudged Mingyu, cutting him off with a stern look, but it was too late.

“Wait, you’re moving?”

You looked back over at Vernon, his brow furrowing as he looked at you with a crestfallen expression. No one had told him?

“Yeah,” you said nervously, glancing over at him for a second before looking away again. You reached for your glass of lemonade, taking a sip so you didn’t have to say anything else, another awkward silence filling the table.

“So, what can I get you all,” the waitress finally appeared, ready to take your orders.

You’d never felt more thankful for a distraction.

—————

The rest of lunch had gone as smoothly as it could have considering the circumstances, with everyone mainly focused on their food. Mingyu, Jay and Nikki did most of the talking, sharing more stories from their time away from home as you politely listened along, soaking up just how much you had missed and throwing in a question or two from time to time. You tried your best to keep from looking at Vernon, which wasn’t really all that hard considering he stayed quiet for the rest of the meal. When his name came up in the conversation he’d always give a smile or a nod, laughing along at Mingyu’s ridiculous exaggerations, but besides that he gave no input.

“Well this was fun,” you said as you all walked out of the restaurant. “I guess we can hang out more tomorrow when you guys are finished with work again?”

“Actually…we were wondering if you’d come with us to the studio,” Mingyu suggested. “We wanna show you what we’ve been working on.”

“Really? Now?” you said in surprise. “Are you sure?” You’d assumed you wouldn’t be able to hear any of the actual songs until the official release of the EP.

Jay nodded before adding on, “As of today, the mastering is done so the songs are officially finished.” You noticed how he looked over at Vernon briefly, the man’s face a little red with eyes averted and hands tucked in his pockets quietly, before he continued. “We all agreed awhile ago that we wanted you to be the first outside of the production team to listen to it, as a thank you for all of your support.”

You felt honored, nearly tearing up at their words. It was such a kind gesture that you didn’t bother worrying too much about the fact that you’d have to spend even more time around Vernon. Like Nikki had said earlier, you didn’t want your history with him to stop you from sharing in such a precious moment.

“You guys…this is really sweet…”

“We know. Now come on,” Mingyu ushered you towards him eagerly.

You looked back at Nikki in confusion as she kept her place on the sidewalk.

“Go on,” she said with a smile. “The guys insisted you had to hear it first. Alone.” She said that last part with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I’ll be waiting for you back at the hotel.”

—————

“Wow,” was the first word that left your mouth when you and the guys arrived at the studio.

The main area was bigger than the living room of your old apartment, a bunch of fancy recording equipment with hundreds of knobs and dials against one wall to your right. Comfy couches and chairs adorned the wall that was directly across, with plush carpets and decorative little knickknacks accenting the space. The recording booth was its own room, separated from everything else by a shiny sleek glass. When you peeked inside you saw a plethora of instruments and mic stands, and you even recognized Vernon’s guitar sitting in one corner.

“Crazy, right?” Mingyu urged you on with an elbow to your arm before he plopped himself into one of the chairs near the control booth. Vernon and Jay had already seated themselves.

“Sit down!” Mingyu said, patting the last empty chair, which was beside him but also just so happened to be next to Vernon. You knew it was just by chance and that Mingyu would never set you up like that purposely, but that didn’t stop the nervousness that bubbled in your stomach.

“No way am I sitting that close to the controls,” you tried joking as an excuse. “I’m scared I’ll break something.”

You backed up towards the couch against the opposite wall, planning to sit there instead, but the devastated look on Mingyu’s face made you stop in your tracks. Unable to take anymore of his expression, you glanced over at Vernon on instinct and your heart fell even more when you saw the way he immediately looked down at his lap, scratching the back of his head despondently.

Fuck. Was I that obvious? you thought, immediately feeling stupid for making things awkward.

“I can switch with Jay if - ” Vernon started, but you quickly cut him off.

“No! No it’s fine,” you said, shaking your head before taking a step forward. “I’ll just - ” you didn’t bother finishing that sentence because what were you supposed to say exactly? No, it’s fine, I’ll just sit down next to my ex instead of making you all switch chairs because I still feel weird about breaking up with him? That would have been even more embarrassing. Maybe Nikki was right - you weren’t as over your past with Vernon as you’d thought.

You finished making your way to the final seat at the booth and promptly sat down, folding your hands in your lap as you tried to muster up some semblance of poise.

“Show me what you guys have been working on.”

Mingyu looked at you seriously for a moment, making sure you were really ok first. Once you gave him a genuine smile and elbowed him playfully, he released a breath, the anticipation growing on his face again.

“Jay, can you play the first track?” he asked.

“Sure thing man.” The bassist clicked away on a nearby monitor before sitting back, sound beginning to flow from the speakers.

For the next half hour or so, you listened to several of the songs the guys had spent months crafting, worries quickly melting away as you couldn’t help but absorb yourself completely into the music. At the end of each one you immediately gushed over the melody, production elements, or other details, Mingyu and Jay eagerly offering in-depth input on more of the behind-the-scenes process. Vernon also chimed in from time to time, slowly becoming more comfortable as he gave insight on lyrical choices or even helped to elaborate upon your comments when you struggled to articulate in technical terms what it was you’d noticed in each song - “We added some more reverb here in the bridge,” “Woozi had them redo the mixing so many times on this song so they could capture Jay’s pedaling,” “That bit you’re hearing is a layer of syncopation over the main melody.” It was hard not to notice the passion in his voice. It exuded from him every time he spoke - an unbridled joy you had never seen before. You found it endearing, a smile slowly growing on your face the more you watched him.

The fourth track was the official recording of Visions. The four of you stayed completely quiet throughout the entirety of this song, fully absorbing Vernon’s raw vocals and the way they glided over the rich instrumental. Goosebumps covered your skin by the end.

“Vernon…that was beautiful.”

You were the first to interrupt the silence that filled the space afterwards, unable to stop yourself from looking directly at him. Despite everything that had happened, Visions would always make you feel something that was hard to put into words. You two didn’t have to still be together for you to regard that song with incredible care and awe.

“Thank you…that means a lot,” Vernon said, holding your gaze timidly for a moment before looking down, rubbing his hands across his jeans. He hoped you couldn’t see in his eyes how much your words still meant to him, after all this time.

“Thank you for trusting us with it,” Jay added in, Mingyu nodding along.

No more words had to be said, the group of you sitting comfortably in the silence for a little longer before Mingyu quietly spoke up again.

“There’s just one more song left,” he said, eyebrows beginning to wiggle mischievously.

“There is?” you asked, curiosity peaked at the thought of even more music to listen to. But Vernon’s head jerked back up in panic at Mingyu’s words.

“N-No. There’s not,” he said abruptly, eyes wide as he quickly shook his head in denial. He looked legitimately scared.

“We discussed this already and you said you’d do it. I really think it’s best you stick to your word,” Mingyu said to Vernon, getting up from his chair and patting him on the back before walking towards the door. “Y/n. You good?”

“Yes…?” you said, appreciating his checking in before he seemingly left you alone with your ex.

“No - Mingyu wait -” Vernon said.

“You got this bro.”

“Rarely do I say it, but for once I’d have to agree with Mingyu here,” Jay said as he also got up and retreated towards the studio door. “Plus he stole my guitar pics and won’t give them back unless I agree to this plan so…”

The two bandmates exited the room, the door closing with a sort of finality as you and Vernon were left alone together in the studio.

What is happening right now? Why the hell would I tell Mingyu I was ok with this? Your mind went into overdrive as you fully processed the situation you’d so easily gotten yourself into, and yet, there was another part of you with so many questions that you found yourself glued to your seat.

If it was any consolation, Vernon looked just as unnerved as you.

“I’m sorry. I swear I had no idea they were gonna do this, I promise,” he said as he glanced over at you, immediately feeling the need to explain.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined sharing this last song with you. If he was being honest, he’d never been able to figure out how to go about it, or if he should even try at all. So now that you were right here, sitting beside him again after a whole year had passed, he felt himself panicking. When all he heard was your silence in response, he continued to ramble on nervously.

“You can totally leave if you want. I won’t stop you.” It may have sounded like a cruel suggestion, but to Vernon it would actually have been so much easier if you did - if you left him again just like you had at that bench by the river a year ago. That way he wouldn’t have to reopen an old wound - wouldn’t have to rub salt in something he wasn’t entirely sure had healed. He could just continue to live in denial, never again having to confront the pain that had been so much of his existence or the hurt from his past with you.

“Why did you decide to record Visions? After everything that happened?” Vernon finally heard you ask instead.

It was something that had tormented you nearly every day since your breakup, the question coming to you randomly late at night or when, against your better judgement, you’d listen to certain songs you knew would make you think of him. If you’d been in his shoes you didn’t think you could have done it, and so in this moment you found yourself desperate for an answer.

“I almost didn’t,” Vernon admitted, the confession spilling from his lips rather effortlessly once he’d recovered from his surprise. “But every time I tried to convince myself not to, I would think about the times I’d gotten to perform it on stage…” He looked forward, focusing on the recording booth before continuing. “I didn’t have the words for it then, but now I realize that it was healing - getting to share that song with others. And I think deep down there was a part of me that was tired of hurting myself as a way to cope with the things that had happened to me. So when you still asked me to record it, even after the way things ended, I couldn’t ignore that.” He looked over at you again, repeating your words from a year ago: “It’s like you said, I was tired of hiding in silence. So thank you - for encouraging me. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

You weren’t sure what you thought you’d hear, but you certainly hadn’t expected something so…introspective.

“I’m glad. That it was healing for you.”

His words were their own kind of salve, freeing you from a self-inflicted purgatory you hadn’t realized you were in until that very moment.

“Sometimes I worried that maybe you hated me for it,” you acknowledged the last bit of fear you’d been holding in your heart.

“I can’t deny that I wasn’t upset at times, but I’ve never once hated you,” Vernon said earnestly. “Not even the first night we met - and not after you told me goodbye either.” He desperately needed you to know that.

You let his words seep into your heart, the look in his eyes telling you that he truly meant it, before you finally moved on. Once and for all.

“So,” you said with a deep exhale, suddenly finding it hard to hold his gaze. “What’s this last song? The one the guys want you to play for me?”

“Right. The song…” Vernon began with an anxious gulp - he’d almost forgotten why the two of you were in this situation to begin with. He mulled it over in his head for a second, trying to find the right words to explain what the song meant and why he’d written it, but eventually he realized that defeated the purpose. The song existed for this precisely - because he had always struggled to adequately articulate his feelings in any other way. So instead of stumbling over his words for any longer, he leaned over the control booth and pressed play:

Running 'round the whole city for someone

To look me in my eyes and tell me pretty lies

Teardrops keep blurring up my sight

And right now I'm driving in my car

Going so fast, baby, so fast, baby

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

Don't leave me in the dark

You said you won't be far

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

I can't stand the quiet

Is anyone out there?

I'm on my worst behavior

Don't stop me now

I fucking hate this world

So show me a way out

Wake me up from this nightmare, please

I can't stand this reality

I'm on my worst behavior

How you like me now?

Put a muzzle on me

I'll spit in your mouth

Wake me up from this nightmarе, please

I'm scarred and bruisеd with a black eyed face

Woke up on the highway

I didn't go home last night

What you know 'bout me?

I ain't got nothing

So why you keep coming to me?

With your innocent eyes, you smile so bright

Stop wasting your sunshine on me

'Cause I can't tell if it's real or a lie

Solitude

I got a couple friends

Just me, myself, and I

We play with fireworks all night

I'm okay

I'll just let it burn everything around me

'Cause you can't save me from my sadness

No, don't save me

I'm on my worst behavior

Don't stop me now

I fucking hate this world

So show me a way out

Wake me up from this nightmare, please

I can't stand this reality

I'm on my worst behavior

How you like me now?

Put a muzzle on me

I'll spit in your mouth

Wake me up from this nightmare, please

I'm scarred and bruised with a black eyed face

Turn on the radio all the way up

'Til your eardrums explode

Let's dance all night long

But if you come too close

I might just burn you whole

Turn my back and shut the door

Knock, knock

Is there anybody out there?

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Vernon as the song filled the studio, body frozen in your seat even after it was finished. So many lyrics had stood out to you:

pretty lies

tears blurring up my sight

don’t leave me in the dark

you said you won’t be far

I can’t stand the quiet

on my worst behavior

didn't go home last night

what you know 'bout me?

your innocent eyes, you smile so bright

stop wasting your sunshine on me

can't tell if it's real or a lie

just let it burn everything around me

you can't save me from my sadness

black eyed face

“Y/n? Are you ok?” Vernon asked, turning his chair to face you fully as he saw your expression. He was terrified of what your reaction would be.

“I’m not sure…” you said honestly, finally looking over at him. “Are you ok?”

“I am, I promise. This is something I started writing around the time I joined the band. Right before I met you,” he tried to explain.

“But clearly that’s not when you wrote all of it - black eyed face? ” The more you went over the bits of lyrics you could remember, the more you saw parts of your relationship and his time with the band sprinkled all over it. You didn’t really know how to feel.

“You're right - I added different parts at different times until it all came together. It was my way of coping with what I was going through at the time…and eventually that included pieces of you too - pieces of us.”

“Pretty lies? Wasting my sunshine on you? Is that really all you remember when you think of our relationship? The painful parts?” you asked quietly, a little afraid to hear his answer.

“No, of course not,” Vernon looked at you gently. He wished he could hold your hand in that moment but he held himself back.

“Then I don’t understand. Why write this -”

“Because I love you,” Vernon said finally, his stomach dropping at the confession. He couldn’t bear the thought of you misinterpreting his words any longer. “I love you and I’m sorry for how things ended. For what I put you through. This song was my way of acknowledging that - not by attacking our relationship, but by putting myself back in that negative headspace and being open for once about the fact that I still had things to work through. When it was too late to be better for you or for the guys, I had to find a reason to be better for myself. And so I wrote this song as a reminder.”

You heard everything he said, but you could only focus on one thing.

“You love me?” you couldn’t help but ask, feeling strangely emotional for someone who had supposedly moved on.

“I mean…yeah. I’m not sure the feeling will ever go away,” Vernon’s face turned red as he decided to be completely honest with you.

“I…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m not asking you to take me back - it’s just something I want you to know.”

Just then you heard a noise on the other side of the door, the two of you looking over just in time to see Mingyu peek his head into the room.

“Sooo…the song’s good isn’t it???” the man blurted out, brows once again wiggling. “I was thinking we could call it Pretty Lies.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, ready to tell him to knock it off, but someone else beat you to it.

“Leave them alone!” you heard Nikki say, dragging him back by the collar of his shirt. You thought she was at the hotel, but apparently even she couldn’t stay away for long.

“What? I just wanna -” but the door promptly shut, blocking out Mingyu’s antics.

The two of them really were made for each other, you thought with a bit of admiration. You and Vernon couldn’t help but begin to laugh.

“I guess that means it’s time to wrap it up,” you started, standing as you gathered your belongings. Vernon followed suit, still facing you.

“Just so you know - the label doesn’t know about this song,” Vernon said. “And regardless of what Mingyu wants, I’m not sharing it unless you’re comfortable. The EP is great as is.”

“You’re right that it’s great,” you started, “but it’d be even better with this song. It’s really, really, good Vernon,” you said honestly. You couldn’t deny that, even if it had been a little surreal to listen to in the beginning.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, walking towards him and reaching out for a hug. He was the only person you hadn’t given one to since arriving, though this one felt notably different from the others, the familiarity of his touch sparking something in you.

Vernon held on to you tightly, his head instinctively tucking into that familiar spot on the side of your neck while you rubbed his back softly, neither of you letting go.

“We’re gonna miss you. I’m gonna miss you,” he admitted once you two had lessened your hold enough to look at each other, the thought finally dawning on him that whenever he did finally return home, you wouldn’t be there waiting for him.

“I know. I will too,” you said wistfully. “But this doesn’t have to be goodbye forever, you know?”

You stood up on your tip toes then and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. It wasn’t one of fiery passion, nor was it one loaded with secrecy or shame or hurt. And to Vernon, it was his absolute favorite of any of the kisses you two had ever shared. When you looked up at him, you could barely hold in your laughter, his face morphing into the perfect mixture of bliss and confusion.

“But how? You’re moving,” Vernon couldn’t help but ask despite the happiness he felt.

“Slowly. We can visit each other. With my new job I’ve got more flexibility, and you’re all gonna be famous soon anyways,” you only half-joked. “Even when you guys finally do come home, I have a feeling you won’t be there for long…”

He looked down bashfully at that but you placed a hand to his face, angling it back towards you as you looked at him seriously again.

“Vernon. I want us to explore this - the way we are now. If you want to.”

“I do,” Vernon said confidently.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” you said assuredly. “I trust this. I trust us. Ok?”

“Ok.”

—————

When you and Vernon finally left the studio, you found Mingyu, Jay, and Nikki all waiting for you out in the lobby with bated breath. Nikki let out a near shriek when she saw that the two of you were holding hands.

“You guys have my blessing to include the final song,” you said immediately, deciding not to keep them in suspense for any longer.

“Oh thank god,” Mingyu immediately blurted out. “If I’m being honest it’s my favorite and I really wanna make it the single -” Nikki smacked Mingyu’s arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“‘Gyu would you please think before you speak???”

“What are you talking about??? You screamed before I said anything and have been gushing about double dates for the last five minutes.”

The two of them continued bickering playfully.

“What they’re trying to say is - we’re really thankful we get to share the song,” Jay translated. “And we’re happy for you guys.”

“I am too,” you chuckled lightly. “Although now that I think about it, I have one request - can you call it Black Eye instead of Pretty Lies?”

The guys all looked at each other for less than a second before speaking in unison.

“Deal!”

—————

It was the day of the showcase. You stood in the crowd once again, just a speck in a sea of thousands of fans as you watched the guys perform. It brought you back to the best parts of old times, sitting around on Jay’s beaten up couch when all they could have hoped for were a hundred people to show up if they were lucky. But now you got to see them on their biggest stage yet, Mingyu happily tapping away at the drums, his head of hair moving all over the place as he kept the beat going. Jay was his usual chill self, just vibing out on the bass contentedly. And then there was Vernon, looking a little shy as the opening chords of Black Eye began to ring out from the strings of his guitar for the first time live. It reminded you of when you’d seen him take the mic at the first gig the guys had ever performed at together, except that now there was a distinct sense of determination in his eyes despite the trepidation that you couldn’t help but admire - the sight awakening a long lost feeling of butterflies in your stomach. He caught you looking at him, gazing at you fondly for one last time before leaning into the mic and beginning to sing.

prev. chapt. | series masterlist

a/n: if you made it all the way here to the end, I just wanted to say thank you to each and every one of you who took the time to read this story! if you've got feels, feel free to share them with me here or reblog the ml if you're so inclined. please take care <3

taglist: @twogyuu @yourfavoritefreakyhan

#vernon fluff #vernon smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen #vernon x reader

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enam3l · 1 year

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love, lola / chapter nine pt.1 / going solo (5.7k)

Eddie’s arrived in California, leaving you behind, to start his new life as a rockstar.

thank you for 1.2k of you kind angels!!!??? and thank you guys for your patience, life has been hectic with work and school and after the anniversary of eddie’s death (but not in this fic baby) i thought fuck it imma post what we got for chapter 9 - I hope it’ll all be worth the wait

a/n: sex drugs and rock and roll - no fr there is graphic sex here

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

California is too fucking hot. That is what Eddie Munson has learnt since moving. Far too hot for hair like his and definitely far too hot to stay hidden behind the safety of his leather jacket. After years of the mind numbing mundanity of Hawkins, Eddie was propelled into the fast pace L.A. mindset. Each morning for a moment his heart hammered, wondering where he was until the palm trees outside the window reminded him it definitely wasn't Indiana. The apartment the record label had set him and rest of Kraven up in was definitely not the trailer - maybe the size of every single one in the park combined.

So far, everyone had been nice; a niceness you're not usually privy to when you're known as 'The Freak'. Kraven were excited he accepted the offer and their label and manager had heralded him the hero of the hour. But a nagging part of Eddie couldn't ignore the feeling that this wasn't really his band, he was a replacement. There was a brotherhood between the bandmates long before his arrival and it's hard to ever truly assimilate with a bond like that. Regardless, he was there, escaped the confines of his small town and now living the dream of becoming a rockstar. This was always the fantasy, wasn't it?

September 2nd 1986

For the first time in his life, Eddie is sat in a real life, high tech, actual recording studio. A far cry from Gareth’s egg box insulated garage. An egg shaped chair swallows him whole which feels tediously symbolic of his time so far in California. Everything is much bigger than him. As the band and producers play him the demos they have already, with hopeful looks on their faces, he resorts to anxiously twisting the rings on his fingers. They're a tangible reminder of home. He thumbs them in order. Skull. Pig. Cross and bones. Mom's. But now there's a new edition - yours.

It made its way onto his finger as you said your final goodbyes in the airport terminal and it hasn't left since. Between runny noses and weepy eyes, Eddie frowned as you withdrew from a hug that had already lasted several minutes (which was still not long enough).

'I have something for you, Teddy,' you confess as you sift through your bag.

'You already threw the party, sweetheart. Whatcha wasting money on me for?' He sighs.

The protests were not what you wanted clearly as he's met with a silencing finger until you finally found what you were looking for. Now you chew your lip anxiously, fumbling with a little velvet pouch.

'It's not for going away... it's - well, I gathered, this will be the first time since we met that we've not spent our birthdays together...'

Eddie's stomach drops, he had not gathered that. 'Oh...' he murmurs.

'So, I thought I'd give you your present now. I guess. If that's okay?'

Totally thrown, he only blinked and nodded. Taking his hand, you lay his palm out flat and shake the pouch until Eddie hears a little clinking, then feels cool metal on the skin.

'It's the big 2-1, y'know. I wanted us to have something special. I couldn't think of anything to buy. But, I - uhhh - I could think of something to make.'

Finally, he moves and inspects your gift closer. Two silver rings, perfectly imperfect. Carefully, he spins them round until he can finally see what the feature of them is. It causes him to gasp and you to resort to nervously stumbling over your words.

'I was taking a silversmithing class at college and I was thinking about your rings and then I thought I could make you one. Then I thought I could make us some. Matching ones. For our birthdays. It's silly. They're not professional or anything. Y'know a little wonky. Just thought it'd be nice...'

Eddie balls his fist up, clutching the precious contents and closes his eyes to swallow up a sniffle. One ring has E for Eddie on, the other identical except for your initial.

'Wonky? Y/N... they're perfect. This is, holy shit, this is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me...'

The compliment makes your insides fizz.

'Are you sure? I mean, I was gonna tidy them up more but when you were in hospital. When I went back to New York... I brought them back with me. Just incase... y'know...'

Just incase Eddie never made it to his 21st is the unspoken ending to that sentence that you both understand. Eddie takes your hands in his and squeezes. The rings shielded by your conjoined palms.

'Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you... put it on me! Go on! Make me your little hand model m!'

As usual, Eddie's theatrics ease the tension and force you into giggles.

Carefully, you slide the E ring over Eddie's finger. He prompts you to place it on the bare one next to where his Mom's old ring resides. Then, he takes your hand and delicately places your own ring onto the matching finger. To the rest of the people in the airport, it must've looked like the exchanging of vows between two lovers being forced apart. Really, they wouldn't have been entirely incorrect.

‘So what do you think man?’

Eddie breaks his daze to be met with a room of hopeful eyes.

‘Huh?’ He murmurs.

‘The demos!’ The manager Chris encourages, ‘for the album! These are what the guys have put down so far. Love em?’

Eddie’s brain stumbles over what will be the correct thing to say. The songs bad? God no, there was a reason the bad were signed. But were they what he would do? Not really. It was clear they were angling as more commercially marketable, less niche like metal, a more digestible rock. Taylor was more Iggy than Ozzy.

‘Yeah, yeah they’re tight,’ Eddie scrambles, praying he didn’t appear rude.

Already though, his brain has calculated how he would rearrange each element of the songs, what lyrics he’d tweak, how he’d make it his own - but he has to remind himself that’s not why he’s here.

‘We want a single out for Christmas. Make a big splash over the festive season. Hit the talk shows, the radios. Get you boys out there. Build up the hype for a Valentine’s album release,’ Chris cheerfully continues.

‘But don’t forget, none of these songs are finalised,’ a rough voice from the corner of the room interrupts Chris’ ambitions.

Riz, the producer, sits like the mastermind behind the console in his swivel chair. His skin weathered and tanned, littered with scribbled tattoos not unlike Eddie’s own. Tired eyes that have seen too many young ambitious bands and their teams come in and out of his studio, are concealed by thin tinted glasses. A mane of salt and pepper curls, some formed into dreads cascade past his broad shoulders. A real old school rocker.

‘Oh well, yes, yes of course,’ Chris fumbles, ‘plenty of room for your inputs Eddie.’

It’s clear Chris is entirely intimidated by Riz’s presence. His clean cut Armani suited self a direct contrast to the producer’s rough look. One is the face, the other is the real brains.

‘Speaking of, Chris, why don’t you take Taylor, Spike and Keith to lunch. Use that gold card the label bestowed upon you whilst me and Eddie get accompanied?’

Eddie shoots round to look at Riz, used to his name being called out as the signal he’s in trouble. But when he meets his eyes, they only offer warmth and a small smirk; something Eddie had yet to see him crack so far.

‘Oh are you sure?’

‘Yeah, yeah, lots of technical things I need to adjust now Eddie is with his. Go on,’ Riz practically shoos Chris out the door. The rest of Kraven following suit, amused by their manager’s nervous babbling.

Finally, once the door is shut and locked, Riz returns to his throne, spinning round and looking at Eddie expectantly.

‘Well, come on then,’ he chuckles, smacking his tattooed hand against a leather chair beside him. Eddie immediately scrambles over, Sweetheart safely in her case towing behind him. There’s an awkward silence as Eddie toys with his guitar case, desperate to avoid Riz’s piercing gaze.

Nonchalantly, Riz swings his feet up onto a nearby stool and reclines in his chair.

‘So… you hate the songs,’ he chuckles.

Eddie finally looks up to gawp, scrambling for a response.

‘No, I don’t, it’s not, I never said I-‘

‘It’s cool brother. You’re a metalhead. They aren’t a metal band. They’re not your first choice, no sweat.’

Riz, in just a few minutes of knowing each other, has called Eddie’s bluff. The tone in his voice is not anger or judgment, it’s just matter of fact with a hint of amusement.

‘They’re not my first choice either, sound wise. I’m a lot more old school myself, personally. But, fuck, you know what, those boys got more star power than anyone else who’s been brought to me in the last two decades.’

Eddie nods eagerly. There’s a reason he was honoured Kraven had asked him, they were really fucking good and most surprisingly - nice. Riz eyes the boy before him, big brown soulful eyes that scream there’s a story behind them.

‘I think you’re an old soul like me though, Munson. Let me guess… you’ve got notebooks full of lyrics in that case of yours?’

A beetroot blush flushes Eddie’s cheeks, he’s been rumbled and stutters an agreement.

‘And I bet you’ve never shown anyone either, huh?’

Two for two.

‘No, never. They’re all a little… personal,’ Eddie murmurs.

‘All the best stuff is. So what you’re gonna do is get them out and show me who the musician Eddie Munson really is.’

With an eagle eye, Riz combs through the tattered pages of scrawling lyrics. Words dating back years. The afternoon flies by as Eddie demonstrates the melodies he wrote for each with Riz adding his own input.

‘Well, Munson. I don’t think Kraven or the label know what they’ve accidentally come across with you,’ Riz scoffs. His fingers gloss over the stacks of song lyrics Eddie’s unveiled.

‘And you better be marrying this girl you’re writing about. Ain’t heard love songs like this in a lifetime.’

The way Eddie nervously shrinks in on himself over his words isn’t lost on Riz, things rarely ever are.

September 21st 1986

‘TWENTY ONE MOTHERFUCKER’

Raucous laughter and cheers manage to erupt over the booming club music. The fine spray of champagne, more expensive than his trailer, soaking Eddie’s curls. The women that had crowded the booth, struggle to get in the stream of booze. Liquid gold dripping from their open mouths and exposed cleavage. No, this was not the usual Munson birthday set up.

Despite attempting to keep his twenty-first birthday a secret, Eddie had been rumbled. Chris’ assistant Sammy had discovered his impending celebration after going through files. That was spilt during bedroom talk with Spike the bass player who she’d been hooking up with. Spike then mentioned a small night with the boys to Taylor and Keith to celebrate, which was overheard by manager Chris. So now due to Chris’ inability for subtlety, the boys found themselves in an exclusive WeHo club, surrounded by bottomless bottles, scantily clad girls and yes men - all courtesy of the label. Eddie was light years away from where he’d usually spend his evenings round humble drama room DnD table or with lukewarm beers in Gareth’s garage.

After three weeks of locking themselves in the studio when the sun had begun to rise, only leaving well after, the band were finally letting loose. The guys had all told Eddie their tales of L.A’s debaucherous rock’n’roll night life; the secret places where other musicians mingled, where dealers made their money and girls got the memorable nights they went looking for. But so far, he’d yet to experience it and now he was, Eddie wasn’t sure it was for him. A rainbow of pills scattered the table without discretion, he could tell they were far better quality than the shit he used to sell. Servers came with an endless supply of bottles, money no question. A far cry from the gruff, stingy bartenders at The Hideout. The clientele is a far cry as well. The girls that had flocked to their booth looked straight off a Hollywood set. One busty blonde sat on a bewildered Chris’ knee, his eyes desperately trying not to focus on the cleavage that bobbed below his chin. Spike was making it clear he and Sammy weren’t exclusive as a brunette and a redhead sat either side of him as they purred in his ear. Taylor had disappeared into the crowd, ever the life of the party, surely feeling the effects of the pills he’d let fizzle on his tongue. Out of everyone, the only person Eddie felt envious of was Keith.

Nestled happily in the corner of the booth sat Keith and his fiancee Grace, lost in their own little world. The pair had scoffed when a girl had tried to luck with Keith, knowing hell would freeze over before he left Grace. High school sweethearts who had made it work as he’d followed the path of wannabe rockstar. She was no eager groupie or ditzy model, Grace was a lawyer; officially Kraven’s lawyer. Put together, fierce and completely soft on Keith - reminding Eddie of you. Although, they were a real couple, best friends and lovers, exactly what Eddie had failed in making the two of you. When they whispered private jokes or sleepy appeared from their bedroom, his heart panged with envy. Mind racing with questions of how they managed to make it work. Who made the first move? How did they know it was mutual? How did they know it wasn’t a mistake? All the questions he fretted over when his lips burnt with desperation to meet yours.

Eddie’s wishful gaze is interrupted by a sudden touch to his thigh. Eyes wide with confusion, his head spins round and are met with a fluttering pair staring right back at him. The stranger’s fingers tucking rogue curls behind his ear causes Eddie to freeze. A touch too intimate to receive from anyone but you or his family.

‘Your hair is nearly as long as mine,’ the girl drawls. Long nails still trailing up his shredded jeans and now up his exposed bicep. Whether she hadn’t noticed Eddie’s bewildered look or had just chosen to ignore it, the girl pressed on.

‘The boys told me you're the new lead guitar… I think you’re definitely an upgrade, honey.’

Eddie gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. So far he had been able to avoid interacting with these legendary California girls. Throwing himself into rehearsals with the band and his own late sessions with Riz long after the rest of the guys go home. Women weren’t on his radar. Everyone dull in comparison to the shine he knows radiates off you.

‘Urm, thanks,’ he mumbles, trying to squirm out of her grasp.

‘And he’s a little shy?’ She giggles, ‘sooo cute.’

Eddie’s eyes, wide like saucers, scan the surroundings rapidly, desperate to escape this uncomfortable encounter. He wasn’t interest in a hook up, the thought unimaginable and he definitely didn’t want this. He’s desperate for you more than ever now, wishing for your soft touch, wishing it was your tipsy words being whispered in his ear. His birthdays weren’t for sharing with random hookups, they were always reserved for you. After being separated by your college, Eddie was giddy at the thought of getting to spend your birthdays together again. But now you were torn apart again, now even further apart.

Finally, Eddie spots his opening. The girl leans over to the table to pour another drink, her grip on him loosening. Quickly, he darts up, hopping over everyone’s legs and abandoning the booth as the girl calls after him. Eddie’s feet seem to take him away before his mind is even sure where he wants to go. Hand’s planting on the bar top, causing an unexpecting bartender to jump, Eddie pleas,

‘Is there a phone anywhere I can use?’

The bartender nods, finger jabbing to a corridor beside the toilets. Shouting a thanks behind him, Eddie shoots off in the direction of the promised phones.

Frantically, he punches in a number he’s known by heart for most of his life. Ringed fingers twist round the cord anxiously and the dial tone hums over the vibrations of the club’s speakers.

Eddie’s breath hitches as the other end picks up and fumbling can be heard.

‘H-hello?’ Your sleepy voice croaks.

It’s the best noise he’s heard since he arrived, better than anything he’s heard in the studio.

‘Hi,�� he whispers shyly, ‘it’s me, it’s Eddie. I’m sorry, did I wake you?’

Your giggle makes his stomach churn.

‘I know it’s you, Eds or should I say birthday boy? No, no, it’s okay. I was already awake.’

‘Are you okay? Are you sick?’ He enquires desperately. For a moment, Eddie is sure he hears a hesitation in your voice.

‘No, no, I - urm, you know, just one of those nights. I’m fine! It’s nice to hear your voice.’

Eddie for once is grateful for the distance that separates you for seeing the blush that spreads across his cheeks.

‘It’s really nice to hear yours too. I’m sorry I’ve not been keeping up with the calls, it’s all just -‘

You interrupt before he falls into a spiral of apologies.

‘Eds, it’s fine! You’re a rockstar in training, I don’t expect you to be missing all the fun to be calling me every second.’

‘But, I want to, sweetheart… I wish you were here,’ he sighs.

‘I wish I was too… but this your adventure. This is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.’

Eddie desperately wants to let the alcohol coursing through his system to take ahold of his tongue and confess no, you’re everything I’ve dreamed of. But he doesn’t. Your voice chirps up again, trying to dispel the sad silence that took over the line.

‘So, how’s your birthday? How is being 21? Are you not out and drowning in booze and those Cali girls?’ You’re chuckling but he doesn’t laugh.

‘No, no I’m out with the guys. But, urm, no Cali girls. Definitely not.’

Eddie’s not sure if you let out a relieved sigh or it’s just wishful thinking.

‘You’re out?! Eddie, what on earth are you calling me for!’

Your scolding tone makes him grin. He can picture perfectly how your brows are furrowed and how if you were in front of him your hands would be flailing animatedly.

‘Cos birthdays are our thing. You’re much better than this club full of fuckin’ posers.’

‘Yeah, they are. Am I now? Are you trying to flatter me, mister?’

‘Always, sweetheart.’

The pair of you giggle down the phone. His dimpled cheeks aching from the grin you inspire. As the giggles finally subside, Eddie hears you attempt to disguise a yawn and remembers how once again distance keeps you apart.

‘Guess I should let you get to sleep then, huh sweet?’

‘You should go and enjoy your birthday more importantly!’

Eddie huffs, knowing such a thing is impossible without your presence.

‘I’ll try… I’ll speak to you soon, promise.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Eds. Whenever you have time!’

‘I’ll always have time for you. I’ll make sure I at least call you on your birthday.’

‘You better,’ you sleepily smirk, ‘it’s two days after yours, you’ve got no excuse to forget.’

‘How could I?’

Eddie rakes a hand through his curls, knowing he needs to hang up but it’s too hard to let you go.

‘Get some sleep, sweetheart. I miss you.’

‘Goodnight Eddie, I miss you too.’

The line goes dead and once again the only sound filling his ears is the throbbing base. Trying to replay your words in his head, Eddie flops against the wall. Eyes closed tight as he wishes it was you he was breathing in rather than the cloud of perfume wafting from the women’s bathroom nearby.

It’s only when he can feel a presence beside him does Eddie open his eyes. A woman mirrors his position against the wall but faces him, a wicked glint in her cat-like eyes. Taken aback by her close proximity, Eddie jumps causing her to giggle at his squirming.

‘Whatcha waiting for cutie?’

Eddie continues to shuffle away, the phone your warm voice once echoed out of, now uncomfortably sticking into his back.

‘Was just… just using the phone…’ he murmurs nervously.

‘Oh?’ she cocks her head, auburn waves tumbling, ‘and here I thought you were waiting out here for some fun.’

A slender manicured finger reaches out, tugging at a bewildered Eddie’s bottom lip. He stutters as his brain scrambles for a response. Another awkward round of full frontal flirting from random girls. The thought of supermodel groupies throwing themselves at him was somewhat appealing when he was a raging hormone of a teenager. But even then, you were still in the back of his mind on a pedestal, now you live there front and centre. Eddie recoils from her touch, swatting her hand away.

‘No!’ he surprises himself with the firmness in his voice, ‘M’sorry, not looking for anything.’

The girl scoffs a ‘whatever’, rolling her eyes and flouncing off. Just as Eddie finally feels his body relax, a snigger from the corner catches his attention. A frame steps forward from the shadows.

A man, also in his twenties, grins an infectious smile that makes Eddie feel a little giddy. Shorter than himself, but broader, tanned muscles that glistened with sweat from dancing.

‘I think she’s a little disappointed,’ the guy chuckles.

‘I really was just using the phone!’ Eddie insists.

Gradually the two move closer towards each other, Eddie drawn in by the piercing pale eyes that never leave him. Despite the corridor being much cooler than the dance floor, heat bubbled between their bodies.

‘So… Eddie, are you definitely not looking for any kind of fun?’

October 31st 1986

Now in the depths of autumn, the madness of life had only increased. Kraven had found their sound with the addition of Eddie, days spent mastering their sound in the studio. When out of the studio, the boys sat round meeting tables listening to suits spew corporate jargon about their mastermind ideas for selling the band. That was his least favourite part, hearing his existence and passion whittled down to money making schemes. It’s also where Eddie was forced to tackle the idea of fame. Seeing his name in small print under photographs of the band, plastered in pages of music magazines about the next hot thing. Personally, he found it mortifying but Wayne insisted it was proof of him achieving his dreams, whereas you cackled down the phone at the surrealness of it all.

At the end of the day, Eddie buried himself in sheets of paper, attempting to put into words the feelings that brewed inside. Trying to heal the internal wounds the events of the year had left, whilst being a thousand miles from the people who actually understood. Vocalising the sadness he wished he didn’t feel over achieving his dreams of making it but not with his own band. Then as ever, trying to find an outlet for the love he felt for you that bubbled with fervency in your absence and

with every stolen phone call. Then, a couple of times a week, Eddie would present his lyrics to Riz to make sense of, during after-hours at the studio. A secret project the two of them found themselves falling into outside of Kraven. That was another source of guilt, that his heart and soul weren’t invested in the band in the same way Taylor, Spike and Keith’s were. That he reserved the heartfelt work for himself, letting his real passion erupt during the late night sessions with Riz.

Then there was another output Eddie found for his pent up frustrations about his overwhelming emotions and suffocating new lifestyle. A way to let go in a way that didn't leave him ashamed as if he had betrayed you. The guy at the club on his 21st birthday had opened up possibilities that Hawkins had limited. Small town life was oppressive, he didn’t need the rumour mill buzzing with fresh stories that the satanist Munson was also a sodomist. Whilst Taylor and Spike drowned in girls, Eddie became comfortable seeking out something else in the bars and clubs they’d frequent. It was easier, less intimate. He didn’t need to worry about coy teasing, didn’t need to exchange names and take girls home. Eddie could find release down the back of another guy's throat, quick and hot in dark corners and back allies. He was unsure if his bandmates had realised and was anxious that they’d reject him for it but that was another issue forced to the back of his mind, stored in another box overflowing with anxieties.

Halloween was decided as a good marketing angle for the band. Their name added to the line up of hot new rock bands performing at an infamous West Hollywood Halloween party. Something thrown by a record executive’s tabloid covering daughter that had become notorious enough to be spoken about on MTV. Eddie being no stranger to a costume and outlandishness being second nature to Taylor, the pair had put themselves in charge of putting together the band’s costume.

‘This is pretty hardcore you guys,’ Spike admitted, ‘didn’t think you’d pull it off.’

The four cramped into a backstage room at the venue, getting ready for their performance. Eddie’s tongue stuck out in concentration as he finished painting Spike’s body. All four of them were skeletons. Leather trousers and boots embellished with white paint, creating the illusion when on stage they were void of flesh. Their torsos mostly exposed aside from frankly decorative scraps of leather. Spike in long leather sleeves that covered wrist to arm and left the entirety of his chest exposed. Eddie and Keith both in tight leather waistcoats. Then Taylor, naturally, entirely topless aside from some leather wrist cuffs and mask that made him appear as a devilish gimp. All exposed skin had bones painted on top which was now Eddie’s current job.

‘Of course we did,’ Taylor boasts, ‘you really doubted our little DnD nerd’s ability to put together a costume?’

Eddie splatters paint in the singer's direction. Even if they weren’t his friends from home, his band mates had become real friends. Their bantering is interrupted by the door opening and a fallen angel with a clipboard appearing.

‘You guys gotta be outta here in like a minute, the band on stage are wrapping up and you’re next.’ Her sentence is finished with a pop of her bubble gum and the slam of the door.

After final adjustments to the costumes, the boys file out to the side of the stage. Eddie’s chipped black nails gripping at the neck of his guitar. The usual pre-show jitters causing his stomach to flutter.

‘You good brother?’ Keith whispers, a reassuring firm hand bracing Eddie’s shoulder.

‘Yeah, yeah, all cool, I mean y’know aside from usual pre-show nerves,’ he shrugs. Keith nods with understanding, spinning his sticks - a nervous tick Eddie has come to notice.

‘Damn, you better at this fuckin rockstar shit than me. My heart feels like it’s about to fall out my god damn asshole knowing who’s in that audience!’

Quirking an eyebrow, Eddie warily responds,

‘What do you mean… who’s here?’

Keith’s eyes bulge at his bandmate’s obliviousness.

‘Holy shit, you got no gossip rags in that little town of yours? This party is infamous. It’s some real Motley Crue as shit out there. Full of rockstars fuckin heiresses n shit! Little Miss Clipboard said mother fucking Slash is here!’

Before Eddie can even clear his now dry throat to respond, the sound system booms with the excited announcement of the MC.

‘Next up is rock’s hottest new band… Kraven!’

The cheers are muddled by the ringing in Eddie’s ears, his body seized up until Spike nudges him along. With a gulp, he steps out into the spotlight, trusty axe in one hand whilst the other spins the ring you made him.

Dripping sweat causes the paint to bleed down Eddie’s exposed skin. Unsteady hands grab one of the bottles of whiskey thrusted upon them once the band exited the stage and merged into the party. Eddie’s ear’s still buzzed with the raucous applause and hollering that erupted once Kraven finished their set. Immediately after they were mobbed by names he’d read on the backs of cassettes he couldn’t afford in record stores. Producers, lyricists and fellow musicians, all congratulating and praising him - Eddie the freak Munson, the kid who grew up awkward, poor and unwanted. The change of pace in his life was surreal; after a lifetime of critical fails, he’s been rolling nat20s.

A soft evening breeze provides Eddie with as much needed respite as California weather can. The surrealness of inside was getting to him. Skin sticky from sweat induced by the growing crowd of important people with his name on their tongue. His name. Eddie Munson.

‘Eddie Munson?’

It takes a moment for Eddie to realise that voice wasn’t coming from inside his head. A few feet before him, leaning against the roped barrier a guy peers with his head cock. Soft flopping quaff falling into his curious eyes. A cowboy. Blue wash denim waistcoat with nothing underneath exposing taught tanned muscles. A tanned cowboy hat pushed back so it hangs off the back of his neck.

‘Uh, yeah, yeah… can I help you?’

The guy shrugs, hands sliding into the back pockets of tight jeans and rocking on the balls of his cowboy boots.

‘Nope. Just thought it was you. Saw you perform, you were great. More talented than most of these rockstars,’ he scoffs.

‘Oh, I - I don’t know about that. Thanks, I guess,’ Eddie fumbles over his words, eyes focused downwards at those damn cowboy boots.

With a chuckle the guy responds, now daring to move forward, strong hand adjusting Eddie’s waistcoat.

‘See, you just proved me right. Most of those guys would’ve agreed and definitely wouldn’t thank me…’

His fingers brush over Eddie’s jittering own.

‘Need a light for that?’

He pulls up Eddie’s hand that holds a long forgotten cigarette that remained unlit. Gulping, he nods. The mystery cowboy draws nearer, a zippo and a cigarette for himself materialising from inside the waistcoat.

‘I’m Max by the way,’ he smiles as he takes Eddie’s cigarette and places it into his agape mouth for him.

‘I’m Eddie…’

‘I know, babe,’ Max whispers, his own cigarette in his mouth now.

The tips of both cigarettes almost kiss as the distance closes between the two men. The zippo crackles alight, the flame illuminating a pair of wide chocolate eyes staring at a charming pair of green, both sets of pupils dilated.

‘Holy fuck, I knew you were big. Could see it on stage in that tight ass leather,’ Max groans. Metal scrapes on marble as Eddie Munson’s ringed fingers grip at a bathroom countertop as the man he met moments ago pumps his aching cock. Finally the tension built up inside him from the pressure of the evening was on the brink of dissipating. Huffs of air escape his mouth as Max drops to his knees, long tongue flicking at the drip of precum.

‘Knew you’d taste good as well,’ he smirks.

‘God damn, shit,’ Eddie pants as warm lips caress his tip, he struggles to contain himself. His hand lunges out, grabbing at Max’s soft locks. ‘Shit, my balls, suck my fucking balls.’

Pliant, Max does as he’s told, firm balls popping into his mouth causing wild bush to prickle at his face. After a few luxurious sucks, he’s hauled back to his feet and Eddie’s previously shaking hands are nowhere to be seen as he swiftly unbuttons denim.

‘I can’t be the only one to play show and tell.’

Eddie smirks as he watches green eyes flicker in bliss as his fat cock is released from its denim cage. Tanned to match Max’s toned body with a pretty pink head, fair pubes trimmed neatly. A real pretty boy.

‘No wonder you were so confident,’ Eddie chuckles, ‘knew you had that ready and loaded, huh?’

Max whimpers now he’s the one to receive relief from another’s hand. Eddie tugs his chin to force eye contact. Only a moment can they maintain contact before both men are chest to chest, jerking the other off, a mess of precum leaking between them. Open mouths and tongues flickering at each other, spit swapping. It’s dirty and hot and far too filthy for this fancy carpeted bathroom.

Pushing aside a wail of pleasure, Max uses a free hand to fumble inside his waistcoat until he brandishes a foil square. Eddie arches a brow.

‘Jesus, just, just fuck me before I cum,’ Max pleads.

The desperation makes Eddie snigger but it’s mutual.

Quickly, the man is bent over the counter, ass exposed as Eddie’s warm spit drips down. Groans echo as his thumb circles over Max’s tight hole, slipping in as both men’s dicks twitch in suspense.

‘P-please, fuck me,’ he grunts.

‘Alright, alright. You ready cowboy?’

Moans echo off the tiles as Eddie eases into Max’s asshole. The pair’s eyes meet in the mirror they face until he tops out and his head drops into denim. After a moment, Max begins to wriggle beneath, fucking himself on Eddie’s cock until the message is received. Eddie braces himself, fingers digging into hip bone as he begins to drag his length in and out.

Eventually the air is thick with heat and the sound of skin on skin. Full balls slapping against each other. A ringed hand against a plush asscheek. Feral groans and whines of pleasure. So loud that no head is turned when the bathroom door bursts open.

‘What the fuck is this shit?!’ A new voice booms off the tiles.

Eddie and Max’s heads snapped round to the figure in the doorway. The pair caught, trousers round their ankles and Eddie balls deep in a stranger. The image is too incriminating to be anything other than it was. He was exposed and the sweat from the impending orgasm now runs cold. There was no hiding.

-----

damn who tf at the door? my man didnt even get to nut in the hot cowboy

tag list: @tlclick73 @probablyin-bed @fangirling-4-ever @booksarekindaneat @azydrateanatomy @sadbitchfangirl @fluffybunnyu @big-ope-vibes @beam86 @midnightsgetawaycar @stevieharringtonswife

#enam3l love lola #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x best friend reader #rockstar eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson is bisexual #rockstar eddie munson x you #eddie munson series

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newtonsheffield · 1 year

Note

If you’re feeling a Spicy Sunday this week, can we see Mile High once they finally get their ish together and are in the start of their HEA phase?? Or anything Mile High really haha 😛

Okay, let’s see these two sluts shutting around tbh.

Contrary to popular belief honestly, Kate had found that her life as a commercial pilot was relatively free of casual sex. She knew it was a stereotype, the partner in every port idea but she honestly found the idea a little bit offensive. The idea that flight crew travelled too much, spent too much time together and they’d inevitably cheat was ridiculous. Plenty of people travelled for work and at the end of the day she viewed monogamy as a commitment. You decided to commit to that person and that was that.

“Do you… maybe think that… the fact that you weren’t hooking up in bars had anything to do with the fact you. Well… you and Anthony were sort of developing?”

Edwina had blinked at her when Kate had laughed about it, her eyebrows raised.

“I’ll have you know: I met Anthony when we were both being bar whores.”

Edwina gave her a somewhat dispassionate look, “Please stop reminding me. Before I realised it was you, I kept pushing him for details.”

Kate rolled her eyes, “You also are hardly wearing a hole int he carport of your hotel rooms with the traffic, thanks.”

“Well, that’s because I’m still in love with my ex girlfriend. Who has a girlfriend. so Sophie and I watch Pride and Prejudice and cry.”

Kate had to admit she had a point. Every Monet since he’d reached out and taken her hand when she’d stepped onto that plane, everything had stopped. She’d been so aware of Anthony. Even when she’d gone out to bars on her time off she’d scanned the room and remembered how his body had felt pressed against hers when someone had passed her a drink. And she’d remembered the way his eyes had raked over her as they’d strode through the airport and eventually she’d call Anthony, or he would call her and one of them would fall to their knees while they fumbled with clothing and their limbs would tangle together, desperate for each other. And now, she supposed it was different.

It had been a little awkward at first, newly in their relationship, an awkward little dance with their fingers intertwined as they left dinner.

Anthony shifting nervously, his body pressed against her side. “Do you… want space tonight?”

She’d roll her eyes, tugging him inside her room or his, whosever was closer, their hands already fumbling.

One room always sat abandoned, with Edwina rolling her eyes as they loaded into the bus the next morning, “Who do I have to talk to about not getting the room next to these two again? The fucking bed nearly came through the wall I swear to god. There’s just some things a sister shouldn’t have to hear.”

But that was months ago now. Months even after the HR manager had sighed,

“Do we actually have to keep booking seperate rooms for you two?It’s become a waste of money at this point, Lord.”

They’d settled into their relationship now. More casual intimacies like her fingers slipping over the silk of Anthony’s tie as she looped it around his neck, buttoning his vest for him, or Anthony sighing as they left every morning without fail.

“Babe, you don’t have your ID tags.”

“Why do I need my ID tags to fly the plane?!”

Anthony always rolled his eyes, lint rolling his jacket, “To make sure you’re actually a pilot.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t vouch for me?” She nudged him playfully.

“Rules are rules, Kate. I’m not a lunatic.”

They knew one another, inside and out now, one another’s mannerisms and needs. Everything that they’d both been so afraid of at first had come to be comforting. The fact that they could walk out of security hand in hand, and collapse into bed together exhausted from a long flight felt nice rather than terrifying. There was comfort, in having someone who knew you that well. In coming home and finding a new bottle of juice in the fridge because Anthony knew she’d forget on her way home. Casual intimacy. She’s thought it would make the other kind of intimacy, the burning desire that prickled down her spine would give way into nothingness. But it didn’t, it only shifted, changed and grew like the two of them had into something entirely different.

kate had felt Anthony’s eyes on her since they’d woken this morning. The alarm had blared, jolting them both awake with a groan at half five, and Anthony had pulled her back against his chest and his lips had pressed lightly to her neck and her stomach had dropped. It had dropped again when they’d slipped into the shower and her arms had wrapped around his waist and their eyes had caught and tension had flickered between them.

“We don’t have time for this.” Anthony moaned as his thigh slipped between hers and his muscles tightened around her.

“Stop then.” She gasped against him as her hips started grinding against him.

“You stop.”

She’d reached out just to spite him and turned off the hot water, jumping out of the spray before the cold water could hit her as well as Anthony.

“Fucking hell, Kate!”

“Love you!” She called out, more than a little smug even if she did still feel the burn in the pit of her stomach.

The cold water didn’t help. She seemed to be hyper aware of Anthony today. Every movement he made she could feel. Every breath seemed to tickle her skin. His fingers seemed to burn in his as they strode into Heathrow, scanning their badges as they made their way to the staff area. His hand was too low on her back as they stood in the short security line, sitting on the swell of her arse as she put her shoes back on.

“Hands above the belt Anthony.” Kate rolled her eyes despite the fact she was fighting the urge to lean back against his hand.

He raised his eyebrows, looking around to make sure nobody was watching before he planted his hand firmly on her chest. “Better?”

Before Kate could answer Edwina had pushed her way between them, “No! No! We’re going to Hong Kong, it’s two days before Christmas and the love of my life is engaged to someone else, no Kate and Anthony Heathrow groping this morning! It’s barely 6am!”

“That was your fault!” Anthony hissed as they strode towards the gate.

“My fault?! Are you scared of Edwina?”

“I have to survive a flight time of 12hr and 25minutes with her. And she’s clearly going through it.”

“Do you want to talk about it Eddie?” Kate called out.

“Nope! Not until we get home!”

Even that hadn’t deterred them though. Not even that. His fingers lingered as he dropped off her dinner in the cockpit and she’d felt his eyes prickling down her spine when she’d slipped into the galley after. Felt his body press against hers and by the time they left the airport, headed towards the hotel to get a little bit of sleep before heading back, it felt like her entire body was on fire.

Anthony’s hand was low on her waist as they collected the keys and the tension rippled through the air as they stood in the lift. She could feel Anthony’s breath on her neck and felt his foot nudge hers slightly wider, his hands tugging her skirt further up her legs until his knee was settled between her thighs snugly, the fabric of his trousers tickling her thighs through her stockings.

Kate swallowed thickly, unbuttoning her jacket against the heat of the tiny lift suddenly oppressive. She let out an audible sigh of relief as the doors opened and she spilled out onto the floor. She snatched up Anthony’s hand, tugging him towards the room. He moved irritatingly slowly, a smug smile on his face, his hair still perfectly in place despite the fact that their day had seemed neverending.

The second they were inside it was a different story.

Anthony’s hand caught around the back of her neck and tugged her to meet the crush of his lips. Their teeth clashed and their tongues tangled and all the while their hands tugged at their clothing.

Anthony’s chest was warm and firm under her fingertips and she longed to feel it pressed against hers as he slowly thrust into her but something in her was too desperate for that today, the fire between them already too hot. Anthoy let out a groan as he slid her jacket from her shoulders, letting it crumple on the floor, his voice rough

“I love that fucking uniform. One of these days you’re going to fuck me with that hat on Kate. I won’t let you say no.”

Kate felt her spine shiver as his hand twisted in her stockings and she felt them give way as he tried to pull them off her, and then her skirt until they were both standing in the middle of the room, in only their underwear.

Anthony;s hands were warm on the back of her thighs as he tugged them around his waist and his teeth bit into her neck, marking her skin for him the way her fingernails were biting into his chest and shoulders as she rolled her hips against them.

Anthony fell backwards onto the bed, his eyes dark as her weight settled over him, her torn stockings still clung to her. His fingers walked slowly up her thigh leaving a trail of fire in their wake and Kate tasted the whine in the back of her throat as they tugged the edge of her underwear aside.

“Please.”

Anthony chuckled as his fingers slipped inside but his eyes fluttered closed, and she felt his voice rumble in his chest through her hands, “Fuck, were you like this all day.”

Kate nodded, her hips bucking against him desperately, “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

“So bossy today.” Anthony sighed, slipping his fingers from her and ignoring her whine as he brought them to his lips.

“You like that.”

The sound Anthony made, part growl part moan as he sucked his fingers into his mouth shot heat straight back through her and his hips bucked up against her. “No. I fucking love that.”

Quicker than Kate could react his hips thrust upwards and the air left her lungs as they joined together and Anthony’s fingers pressed against her lips as the rhythm started to carry them away. Anthony’s arm was tight around her waist and the taste of her was on her tongue as their hips ground desperately together, chasing the relief they’d needed all day. The air felt stagnant, stifling as tension thickened in it and gasps and moans filled the air. The bed slid across the floor, thumping rhythmically against the wall and even that seemed to spur them on, move them faster.

Anthony’s hand was warm against her chest and the silky strands of his hair slipped over Kate’s fingers as heat coiled tightly in her stomach, tighter and tighter and-

Anthony stopped and then again, so quickly it stole the breath from her body he rolled them. The weight of him on top of her was so comforting and the slide of their skin felt so fucking good as he let out a sharp gran and his hips snapped forward roughly and both of them lost themselves on it.

Anthony’s teeth bit into his lips as everyone of his movements seemed harder, deeper, faster and the bedsheets burned against her back with the friction of it as the moments hung int he air, stretching on forever. His cheeks were flushed and his hair fell in his eyes and everything about him kept Kate’s eyes firmly on him, staring at him as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. Her vision started to blur and every muscle in her body seemed to tighter as she dangled over the edge and Anthony’s sweat slid against her skin.

“Come on, Kate. Let go, Babe. Fuck you feel so incredible. Come.”

She fell over the edge and Anthony swallowed the shout that had threatened to bubble over, his own moan pressed onto her tongue as he shuddered above her, the moment frozen.

He collapsed on top of her with one last moan, exhausted, and their chests heaved in sync as they fought for breath.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

“Fucking enough!” Sophie’s voice shouted as she banged on the other side of the wall. “Some of us are fucking single as fuck you smug twats!”

And with one look, they burst out laughing.

#mile high #spicy sunday🌶️#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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yetanothersparrowofthedawn · 8 months

Text

The Way I Loved You

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt, ex!Jake

Context: YN has some big news. Chaos ensues, as per usual.

Disclaimer: THIS IS UNEDITED, this chapter has been driving me insane and I just wanted to get it out of my drafts. Also, English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Previous Track: Style

Chapter soundtrack: That’s the way I loved you – Taylor Swift

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

He is sensible and so incredible

He opens up my door and I get into his car

And he says, "You look beautiful tonight"

And I feel perfectly fine.

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain,

And It's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name.

So in love that you act insane,

And that's the way I loved you.

Breaking down and coming undone,

It's a roller coaster kind of rush.

I never knew I could feel that much

And that's the way I loved you.

Alright, let’s get into this.

The plane cut through the clouds, having left the US behind as YN and the band embarked on a journey together. YN couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia mixed with anticipation as the Paris skyline unfolded beneath them.

The past six months had been quite a personal success. A mosaic of regular shared experiences had broken down any residual tension that might’ve lingered between her and Jake. Their casual encounters at shows, festivals, and birthdays-alike had served as genuine moments of connection, reforging the group dynamic they had all missed.

YN’s relationship with Harry, on the other hand, had blossomed into a real spectacle that constantly adorned the front pages of tabloids. This, of course, earned her a lot of suffocating attention, but amidst the whirlwind of it all, she managed to find refuge in the simplicity of the few moments she spent with the band.

The purpose of their Parisian escapade was twofold — YN was set to attend the art exhibit opening of an old friend of hers, while the band sought out some specific piece of music equipment that Sam had simply refused to order online.

It was a perfect opportunity to blend business with pleasure.

The jet touched down at Charles de Gaulle Airport and as they stepped onto the tarmac, the crisp Parisian air infused the atmosphere with a sense of adventure.

As the day unfolded, the city of lights revealed its magic. Goofing around in a place where no one paid attention to them was exactly what they’d needed. It felt just like old times.

They explored hidden corners and indulged in local delicacies until the jet lag simply became too much to bear. With tired but cheerful eyes, they returned to the hotel as the city lights began to shimmer.

__________

The lobby buzzed with the chatter of a day well-spent. YN got off the elevator on her floor, wishing the boys a good night with a smile.

As she stepped into her hotel room, her gaze wandered across the space. The muted ambiance contrasted sharply with the vibrant memories of the day.

The blinking light on the telephone caught her attention, and curiosity compelled her to check the answering machine.

With the press of a button, none other than her fiancé's voice resonated in the room, a familiar warmth despite the miles that separated them.

"Hi, love, hope you're havin' a good time with the guys. Wish I could be there with you, but I'm still in London.” She smiled softly as his words wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

“Listen, I just wanted to let you know I just got off the phone with the jeweler,” a pause hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the unspoken, “they said they're done."

YN fell back onto the bed with a huff, the mattress embracing her in its soft contours. Stretched out on the bed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the weight of the secret she’d been keeping pressed on her conscience.

Harry’s voice, a distant echo, continued to fill the room, “The ring should fit perfectly now."

The next day arrived, and jet lag had firmly taken hold, but YN shook off its drowsy grip to join Josh, Jake, and Danny in the hotel's dining room for some brunch.

The fatigue was evident on everyone's faces. She inquired about their plans for the day.

"Well, we have an appointment at the music store in an hour," Danny replied.

Josh scoffed, "If Sam ever decides to—"

"If Sam ever decides to what?" Sam's challenging voice cut in as he strolled over, taking a seat at their table.

"Samuel, how nice of you to join us," Jake teased.

"You know I need my beauty sleep, brother. Don't be jealous," Sam retorted. YN chuckled at the banter, enjoying the familiar dynamic.

As the conversation continued, Danny, with a raised eyebrow, steered the discussion back to the important topic, “As I was saying,” he resumed, “we have an appointment at the music store in an hour. How long do you reckon that will last?” he asked.

Sam, with his typical nonchalance, replied, “Not sure; the call was all in French. Might be ten minutes, could also be ten hours.”

The eye rolls from Josh and Jake were nearly audible, a synchronized response to their younger brother’s signature unpreparedness.

“Alright, we should probably head out right about now,” Jake declared, scanning the surroundings. He sighed in anticipation, “For all we know Sam may have gotten the address wrong as well.”

The youngest, catching wind of the ribbing, protested with a whine, “Hey now, that’s not fair,” as the group headed out through the bustling lobby.

__________

Once they stood outside the hotel, Danny turned to YN, “Are you heading to your friend’s thing?”

One of YN’s old friends was having the opening night of her new art exhibit, an event which they were all planning on attending later that evening, and YN had mentioned the possibility of going early to lend a hand.

“Yeah,” she replied absent-mindedly, “I’ll see if she needs anything.” She looked away in apprehension.

“Alright then,” Sam said, “we’ll see you later.”

As they were about to part ways, YN nervously blurted out, “Do you all need to be at that appointment thing?” She paused, turning to Josh, “I mean… the equipment is just for the players, isn’t it?”

Josh instantly scoffed, feigning an offended expression, “Well, I happen to play something called the vocals, YN, thank you very much.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” she insisted, an unusually tense expression on her face, “please?”

Sam was about to retort with a whole bunch of technical issues but Josh, catching on to his friend’s unspoken plea, quickly intervened, "Uh, you know what, guys? I think I'll stick around with YN for a bit. I can catch up with you later."

The others, slightly taken aback, glanced at each other, then at Josh and YN.

“Sure, no problem,” Danny smiled.

YN grabbed Josh and the pair strode away, arm in arm, leaving the others slightly dumbfounded.

Josh couldn't help but shoot YN a puzzled look, to which she responded with a silent gratitude that spoke volumes.

The rhythm of their footsteps echoed a subtle tension in the air. After twenty minutes, Josh, usually the easygoing one, couldn't help but enquire, "So, what was that about?"

She glanced at him, her expression a mix of urgency and hesitation. "It’s nothing, let’s keep going we’re almost there.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, “come on, there clearly is something,” he stated, crossing his arms, “and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

She stared at him, tempted to call out his bluff, but decided against it, knowing it was only a matter of minutes anyway.

“Alright,” she sighed nervously, “I have some news.”

___________

The air hung heavy with the weight of revelation. YN's eyes, now wide with anticipation, searched Josh's face for a reaction, a sign that he had processed the bombshell she had just dropped. The silence echoed like a distant melody, the street a quiet stage for the unfolding drama.

YN finally broke through the deafening quiet. "Aren’t you going to say anything?" her voice carried a mix of vulnerability and desperation, a plea for connection.

Josh, still processing, stared into the distance as if searching for answers among the unseen horizons. The creases on his forehead deepened, and the corners of his lips twitched with unspoken thoughts. "I just—” he finally uttered, “this- it’s is a lot to take in."

"I know, I'm sorry to spring this on you like that," YN said, her words softening the room's tension. She continued, "I've been dying to tell you- or anyone for that matter, but- with the boys and other people always around, I was afraid it would turn into a big thing, and the news would get out."

Josh remained silent; his eyes still locked on some distant point.

"So..?" YN pressed on. She needed a reaction, a response, anything to bridge the chasm that had opened between them.

"So..." Josh hesitated, choosing his words with measured precision, "we're not heading to your friend's exhibit, are we?" he finally inquired, his question cutting through the haze with unexpected clarity.

"Well,” YN couldn't help but let a smirk play on her lips, “remember we always said you'd have dibs on giving your- style opinion if I ever tied the knot?" she teased, the corners of her lips curling with a hint of mischief.

Josh’s eyes widened with surprise, "Hold on, what?" he exclaimed. The tempo of the conversation had, once again, caught him off guard. "Didn't you just get engaged?"

"I know, it's all going a bit fast," she admitted with an excited sigh. "But Harry and I were at this Westwood show a week ago and the bridal look was just exquisite," she paused, “one thing led to another and we just- booked an appointment.”

Josh returned to his silence; surprise still etched on his face.

"Come on, don't be mad," she implored, her tone softening. "You know you love a private fitting," she added, attempting to inject a bit of lightness into the atmosphere, to soften the edges of the unexpected news.

After a while, Josh looked up, meeting her eyes. "There’d better be a lot of champagne involved," he finally quipped.

She smirked, a sense of relief washing over her. Finally, a normal reaction from her friend. "And only the best,” she assured, “this is Paris, after all."

_____________

The boutique, nestled in the heart of the 7th arrondissement, exuded an air of exclusivity that transcended the ordinary. As YN and Josh stepped into its realm, they were greeted by the hushed whispers of luxury. The walls, adorned with mirrors, reflected the rare creations that hung elegantly on display.

An impeccably dressed man emerged to welcome them with a pronounced French accent. Every detail of his attire spoke of an innate understanding of elegance, a testament to the boutique's commitment to excellence.

It was the kind of boutique that dealt exclusively in one-of-a-kind couture looks, each piece meticulously curated through age-old relationships with some of the most illustrious maisons in the world. It housed creations that transcended mere garments; they were wearable art, destined for the most exclusive clientele.

Led by the man, Josh and YN were ushered into a private fitting room. A sanctuary of privacy, it was adorned with soft, indirect lighting and the air was filled with a faint scent of peonies.

With a polite nod, the man assured them that he would return shortly with the dress YN had come to try on. As he exited the room, Josh couldn't resist calling after him, sending a playful reminder to bring in the champagne.

The leather sofa cradled them in its plush embrace as a delicate silence lingered, both YN and Josh settling into a cocoon of thoughts.

Josh, breaking the quietude, voiced the question that hovered between them. "So, you're really engaged, then?" His words hung in the air.

“Yeah,” a wistful smile played on YN's lips at the surreal nature of her situation. "I guess I am."

"How did it happen?" Josh asked, the question laced with genuine curiosity and a hint of brotherly concern. Her eyes sparkled as she recounted the proposal.

Josh listened attentively, a complex array of emotions crossing his features. He wanted to be solely happy for her, to share in the joy of her new life, but the reality of the situation still needed time to settle.

"It's all moving so fast, isn't it?" he mused, a thoughtful expression clouding his features. YN nodded in acknowledgement.

The atmosphere shifted as Josh leaned back against the velvety cushions, his eyes fixed on a distant point. "On the bright side of things,” he suddenly stated, “Sam owes everyone twenty bucks.”

She looked at him with a confused smile, “What?”

Josh sighed, memories flashing through his eyes. “About four years ago, the guys and I made this whole wedding bet thing” he giggled, “Sam, of course, bet the first marriage among all of us would be him and Carole King,” they both laughed, “guess that’s not happening.”

“Did you bet on anyone?” YN asked playfully.

Josh nodded silently, a serious expression quietly returning to his face. “Yeah," he finally admitted, a veil of nostalgia covering his eyes. YN's smile softened, a hint of understanding in her eyes. Of course, Josh would’ve bet on her and Jake.

"Life takes unexpected turns," she gently stated as she leaned back into the sofa. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Yep,” he mirrored her words, “who would’ve thought?”

As the minutes passed, the pair found solace in the shared silence.

The man finally returned with a garment bag that made YN’s eyes sparkle in excitement. Josh, taking charge of the celebratory mood, promptly popped the bottle of champagne, the effervescent bubbles escaping with a soft hiss.

He poured the bubbly liquid into two crystal flutes, the delicate clink resonating in the air as a toast to the unfolding moment.

_____________

As YN disappeared into the changing area, Josh took a seat, sipping the effervescent liquid and allowing its crisp taste to dance on his palate.

Amid the subtle symphony of sips and the rustle of fabric, Josh suddenly heard some noise emanating from the main area of the boutique. Curiosity piqued, Josh set down his glass and ventured toward the source of the commotion.

“I don’t think this is the place, it’s all clothes in here.”

Josh closed his eyes as he recognized the all too familiar voice. Sammy. He sighed, recognizing the imminent chaos that his baby brother, in all his oblivious glory, was probably about to unleash upon the sophisticated boutique.

Josh let out an exasperated breath, mentally preparing for hurricane Sammy. As the chaos drew nearer, he glanced toward the main area.

« Puis-je vous aider? » the owner inquired, attempting to bring order to the unfolding comedy.

“Oh, um, oui, oui, oui, Bonjourrrr Monsieurrrrr, ” Sam stammered in response, « nous, uh- ouch! Daniel, my foot!” he whined.

Danny interrupted, mercifully ending the linguistic massacre, “I’m sorry, do you speak English?” The owner nodded in response. “Great, um, I don’t suppose this building is also an art gallery by any chance? We’re looking for our friends.”

“I’m afraid not. Who are your—” the manager began before being cut off.

“It’s okay,” Josh interjected, stepping out from the doorway to the fitting room with a mixture of amusement and mild irritation, “they’re mine.”

“There he is!” Sam exclaimed before turning back to the owner, “merci very much, pal,” he said, tapping the flabbergasted-looking man on the shoulder.

As Sam and Danny approached, Josh wasted no time addressing the impending chaos. "How did you even find us her—” he interrupted himself, “Danny, how many times do I have to tell you to stop tracking my phone?"

Danny, caught off guard, stammered, his ears turning red, "I don’t know what you’re talking ab—"

"I swear to G—" Josh began, frustration evident in his tone.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sammy interjected, nonchalantly dismissing the potential drama. “Weren’t you going to some gallery?”

“It’s- a long story, not really mine to tell,” Josh replied, visibly nervous, “weren’t you going to the music store?”

“Well, we did go,” Danny rolled his eyes, “only someone apparently booked an appointment for the year 2032-”

“Here we go again!” Sam groaned, throwing his arms up, in the air “I already said it was my bad, what more do you want from m-”

“Alright,” Josh sighed, his patience wearing thin, “you guys should head out, like, right now. Where’s Jake?”

“Jesus, chill out, he’s just outside, on the phone with Ma’,” Sam informed, attempting to diffuse the tension.

Danny, with his signature grin, couldn’t resist adding his two cents. "You know," he said, "if you guys wanted to go shopping, you could’ve just said so."

"That’s- not it," Josh retorted, his tone carrying a mix of irritation and urgency. "Will you please just listen to me and go before—"

“Hey!” Jake suddenly appeared from behind the other two, “Ma’ says hello,” he slowly looked up from his phone. “What are we doing here?” He took a moment to assess his surroundings, “Are we going shopping?”

“No, we were just about to leave, actually,” Josh replied nervously, his words rushing out. “Y/N will meet us later.” The air seemed to tense with an unspoken secret, the ambiance of the couture boutique now a battleground for conflicting interests.

"Is she not here?" Sam asked, glancing around the shop.

"No, she’s—" Josh began, but he was suddenly cut off by a voice from behind him.

“Alright, I’m coming out…” a voice range out.

Lord, help us all.

“…but I swear to God if you start crying, I will kick your—" YN’s figure materialized from the fitting room, and instantly froze. Her eyes widened, and her words hung in the air as she recognized the crumpling faces in front of her.

The four guys, equally dumbfounded, if not more so, slowly took in the sight of their friend wearing, what very much appeared to be a wedding gown.

Sammy was the first to break the silence, “What the—”

Fuck.

___________

"So… now you know," Josh announced, absurdly loud, attempting to divert attention, "This year’s MET Gala theme is all-things-white, I know, I know, controversial, but, uh—"

“Josh,” YN cut in. She was thankful for her friend’s futile attempt to cover for her, but it was time to be honest. She turned to the boys.

“So…” She sighed hesitantly, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag, then. I’m kind of—" she paused, the word struggling to come out, “engaged?”

“You’re joking,” Sam blurted out.

“I don’t have my ring,” she clarified, “It’s getting resized, but—”

“Are you for real?” Danny interrupted.

There was a moment of palpable silence, and then YN timidly confirmed, “Y-yeah.” She wore a shy smile, and they scanned her face for any sign of dishonesty, finding nothing but sincerity. The realization hit them like a freight train.

“When’s the due date?” Sam couldn't resist adding.

“I’m not pregnant, Sam,” she snapped back, her eyes rolling with annoyance.

“Holy shit,” Danny exclaimed, rushing towards her and spinning her around. She laughed, feeling the tension dissipate.

“Someone’s making an honest woman out of YN, that certainly wasn’t on my bingo card” Sam teased, earning a look from YN, a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Alright, come here,” he opened his arms, and she gladly stepped into the embrace. “Congrats, superstar,” he mumbled into her scalp.

YN’s eyes finally landed on the one person who had yet to say a word.

Jake stood there, completely still. His gaze remained fixed on YN, an array of emotions flickering across his face. Surprise, disbelief, and perhaps a touch of realization danced in his eyes as he took in the sight of YN in a wedding dress.

In that moment of stillness, Jake's mind raced. The news of YN's engagement hit him with an unexpected force. Despite knowing that they had both moved on, seeing his ex-girlfriend on the verge of marriage obviously stirred something within.

He watched as YN stood before him. She radiated excitement, yet looked at him with nervous doe eyes, as though seeking approval. Jake's features softened into a faint smile and he finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so happy for you.”

She instinctively wrapped him in a soft embrace. Taken aback, he eventually wrapped his arms around her waist. “Thank you” she mumbled against his chest, “that means the world.”

“Okay,” Sam’s voice interrupted the moment of tenderness, “now that this is out of the way, let’s talk about this” he said, motioning to the dress she was wearing with an expression of disgust.

The atmosphere lightened as the group transitioned seamlessly from the weight of the revelation to their usual playful banter. "You don't like it?" YN inquired with genuine surprise, her eyes flickering from Sam to Josh, seeking confirmation.

Josh’s mirrored expression conveyed that his baby brother may have had a point, the unison hinting at a rare consensus. YN sighed with playful resignation, a mischievous grin creeping across her face as she hatched a plan to address the situation.

"Alright,” she announced, the glint of mischief in her eyes, “you know what we have to do, then." The boys, catching on to her playful intent, mirrored her smirk in anticipation.

"Fitting Frenzy!" they chanted with a jump, as Danny and Jake shook their head with both amusement and despair. The impromptu decision dispelling any lingering tension as they embraced the whimsical spirit of the moment.

____________

The boutique transformed into a whirlwind of shades, fabrics, and laughter as said fitting frenzy ensued. Each member of the group contributed their unique flair to the impromptu dress-hunt, turning what was initially a stressful situation into a memorable experience.

"Eggshell, Daniel?" Josh's voice echoed through the boutique, a mock sense of outrage coloring his words. "Have you gone mad? Do you think our Y/N will have some barn wedding?"

Danny, unfazed, shot back with playful defiance, "Well, I'd rather have her in an eggshell gown than that horrendous bedazzled mess you suggested." Their banter echoed through the fitting rooms, punctuated by bursts of laughter that drew bewildered glances from the boutique staff.

YN, caught in the middle of the sartorial crossfire, couldn't help but chuckle at the playful antics of her friends.

Amidst the banter, Sam emerged from a changing room, strutting down the shop in a princess ballgown layered over his shirt. "You know, this is actually much more fun than what we had planned for today," he declared, twirling around.

The boutique's managing director, growing increasingly concerned with the boys' chaotic energy which clashed with the usual etiquette of his establishment, observed the spectacle with a mix of confusion and disapproval.

As the afternoon continued, YN found herself submerged in a sea of fabrics and styles. The excitement that had initially fueled the endeavor was now tinged with a hint of desperation as she tried on dress after dress, searching for the perfect one. Despite the growing frustration, she maintained a sense of fun, laughing at the playful banter of her friends.

Throughout the disorder, Jake moved around the boutique, occasionally offering suggestions but seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts. His attention wavered here and there.

“Hey how about this one?” Sam interrupted his brother’s train of thoughts holding up a dress to him, but Jake wasn’t paying attention, his gaze seemingly stuck on something. “Jake?” Sam inquired.

Breaking from his distracted reverie, Jake finally voiced his suggestion, pointing at the specific garment that had captured his attention. "No," he said definitively, "She should try this one."

The owner's enthusiasm echoed through the opulent boutique, his thick French accent lending an air of sophistication to his words. "Aaaah, I see you have the American eye, don't you? We curate very few pieces of American design, but this one," he declared, his fingers delicately grazing the luxurious fabric of the dress in contemplation, "yes, it is… quite delectable, is it not? Tom Ford, 1986. A good year."

As he held the dress with a certain reverence, Sam eagerly announced, "We'll take it," seizing the hanger from the poor man's hands and dashing toward the fitting room. "YN, look what we found!" he gleefully shouted through the boutique, the proclamation carrying a hint of mischief that made the owner flinch.

Apologizing once again for his brother's exuberance, Jake offered a sincere "Sorry about that" to the slightly rattled proprietor. The old man, despite the chaos Sam had caused, chuckled halfheartedly as he returned to the meticulous task of sorting the upscale garments.

After a pause, he turned back to Jake, his eyes holding a glint of appreciation. "If I may," he said with a knowing smile, "you have a good eye. She will look exquisite in it."

Jake nodded in acknowledgment, a sense of satisfaction warming his chest.

__________

As he headed back towards the fitting room. A chorus of oohs and aahs reached Jake’s ears.

There she was, YN, adorned in the dress he had chosen just moments ago, the sleek and elegant silk hugging her frame in a way that seemed tailor-made for her. The dress accentuated YN's beauty in a way that left him momentarily breathless.

Caught in the moment, YN looked around the room and inquired, "What do you think?" A chorus of enthusiastic responses filled the air.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Sam chimed in, eliciting a genuine smile from YN.

Turning to Josh for his opinion, YN received a heartfelt compliment that seemed to catch her off guard. "You look really beautiful," Josh admitted, his voice slightly breaking with emotion.

"Gosh, stop it,” she playfully remarked, attempting to lighten the mood, “You're going to make me cry, and I haven't even seen it."

“Well go on, then,” with a helpful hand from Danny, YN was guided onto the small platform, facing the grand mirror. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked up at her reflection, and the room held its breath in anticipation.

Her eyes began to glisten as she took in her own reflection. The dress reflected Jake’s taste for the understated, emphasizing the beauty of simplicity and allowing YN's natural grace to shine through. It was a creation of plain elegance, a sleek masterpiece crafted from immaculate porcelain silk that draped effortlessly on her frame.

A soft smile played on YN's lips as she stood there, momentarily rendered speechless by the sight before her. "It's-” she eventually said struggling to find the right words as emotions bubbled to the surface. “It’s so…"

"…you," Josh finished the sentence for her, “it’s so you.” The collective affirmation in the room conveyed a shared understanding—the dress wasn't just an exquisite garment; it seemed to be an embodiment of YN's essence, a celebration of her being.

The owner, with an air of grace, stepped forward, breaking the tender moment. He inquired, "Now, what are we thinking in terms of hair?"

"Up," Jake and Josh said in unison. Jake glanced down, slight embarrassment coloring his expression.

YN nodded with a radiant smile, "Up it is."

"Would you like to see our collection of hair accessories? Just to get an idea." the owner offered, leading to an affirmative nod from YN. A skilled stylist promptly approached, delicately crafting an elegant updo, revealing YN's delicate collarbones.

As she perused the display case of accessories, YN settled on a sophisticated white gold pin adorned a single pearl. The owner, appreciating her choice, carefully retrieved the accessory.

However, the pin slipped through the owner's fingers, hitting the floor with a delicate clink. Before anyone registered the mishap, Jake had descended to one knee. He delicately picked it up, his movements fluid and confident, as if the gesture had been rehearsed a thousand times before. The boutique seemed to hold its breath as Jake rose to his feet. Sam and Danny exchanged a knowing glance.

The clearing of Jake's throat pierced through the stillness, drawing attention from the clandestine intensity of the scene. His eyes met YN’s through the mirror, seeking permission.

A nod from her, gentle yet affirmative, signaled her consent, along with a soft flutter of her eyelashes. With a deliberate step, Jake closed the distance between them, the air charged with unspoken anticipation.

He extended his hand, gently placing the pin in her hair. In a moment suspended in time, his fingertips accidentally brushed against the nape of her neck. A feathery touch that let an electric current pass between them.

As the two stood side by side, the lavish Parisian boutique provided a glamorous backdrop to a silent interlude. YN, adorned in the white gown, and Jake beside her, found themselves momentarily immersed in the alternate reality painted in the mirrors. The soft ambient lights seemed to cast an otherworldly glow.

In that suspended moment, their reflection seemed to carry whispers of the 'what-ifs' and the divergent narratives that fate had penned for them.

As their gazes met in the mirrored picture, an unspoken understanding lingered in the air—a shared acknowledgment of a parallel universe where the threads of destiny had woven a different tapestry.

The boutique owner, sensing the shift in dynamics, played the role of an artful conductor, steering the ensemble away from treacherous territories. "Beautiful!" he exclaimed, his voice serving as a gentle reminder of the present moment. “Isn’t it?”

The spell broken, Jake and YN found themselves back in the shared reality of the Parisian boutique. The moment dissipated, leaving behind a trace of wistfulness and a shared understanding that some paths, no matter how enticing, were to remain veiled in the realm of what might have been.

In that fleeting moment, Josh and Sam exchanged another knowing look. They understood the silent undercurrents that had rippled through the room, visible only to those attuned to the intricacies of their story.

"Yeah,” echoed Jake softly, a touch of unease in his voice “Beautiful."

Suddenly, a voice breaks the contemplative atmosphere, announcing, "Hope I’m not interrupting." To everyone's surprise, the figure standing at the door is none other than that of YN’s fiancé.

Harry’s entrance cut through the atmosphere like a gentle disruption, eliciting a swift reaction from the gathered ensemble. In the blink of an eye, Jake stepped away from YN, creating a visible distance as the unexpected visitor approached.

The shift in dynamics was palpable, the subtle recalibration of postures a silent acknowledgment of unspoken boundaries.

"Oh my god,” the surprise painted across YN's face turned into sheer joy as she hopped off the platform, and sprinted towards Harry, her hand tenderly finding its place on his neck. In an impulsive burst of delight, she planted a kiss on his lips, an expression of unrestrained affection that spoke volumes to those around. “What are you doing here?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

Harry, with a casual charm, explained, "Just landed an hour ago, thought I’d surprise you." His eyes then shifted to greet the boys, who still bore the remnants of surprise on their faces. As the initial shock settled, YN, still wrapped in the delight of the moment, turned to Harry with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

"Are you coming to the opening tonight?" she asked, anticipation of his response lingering in the air.

“No, I’m flying back as soon as I’m done with my interview,” he said, “Actually, I have to run right now, I’ll make sure to send Camille flowers though, tell her congrats for me, will you?”

Camille, Jake thought reluctantly. Harry knew YN’s other friends. How come Harry already knew her other friends? How come he’d never heard of Camille before?”

“Are you sure you can’t stay just a little while longer?” she pleaded.

“Sorry, my manager’s expecting me back in London by tonight,” he said, prompting a subtle pout from YN. “Aw, come on, don’t make that face, love. Here, I have something that’ll cheer you up.” He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a small leather box and Josh cast a quick glance at his twin brother, who observed the scene. “I swung by Cartier on the way here,” Harry opened it to reveal a dazzling engagement ring. “There,” with gentle precision, he slid the ring onto YN's finger, “fits like a glove.”

"Thank you," YN smiled, her words accompanied by a tender kiss Harry planted on her hand.

“I left a little something at your hotel as well” he murmured, and she smirked sheepishly in response. She, by nature, may not have been driven by material gifts, but she knew how excited Harry always got.

“You’re the sweetest” she said softly.

“You are,” he retorted, “and would you look at you!” he exclaimed, eyes dancing with admiration as he twirled his fiancée around, reveling in the enchanting vision she presented. The moment, however, took an unexpected turn as he took a closer look at what she was wearing, “Hey, this isn’t the dress we’d talked about,” he questioned.

“Yeah, the Westwood didn’t exactly pan out,” Sam interjected, before YN could respond “that’s on us, mate.”

“Is this the one, then?” he said, gesturing to the gown she had on.

The room seemed to hold its breath as his question lingered. A wave of discomfort washed over YN. The very thought of walking down the aisle to Harry in the dress felt terribly inadequate for some reason.

“Uh, no,” she gently admitted after a pause, "I think I'll keep looking,” she shrugged. Her words prompted groans of disapproval from Sam and Danny. "It should be perfect for us," she insisted with a smile, though in truth, she was uncertain whose feelings she was trying to spare.

"Whatever feels right for you," Harry said, "I’ve got to run. It was nice seeing you all," and with one last peck on her lips, he exited the room.

Harry's departure left the boutique enveloped in a subtle sense of relief as Jake grappled with an internal turmoil that mirrored the brewing storm outside.

Irritation, disguised beneath a veneer of nonchalance, slowly began seeping through his veins.

Suppressing the inconvenient truth that lay dormant within him, Jake found himself grappling with an internal struggle between acknowledging the depth of his feelings and maintaining the carefully constructed walls he had erected around his heart.

YN silently turned back to the boys, casting a quick glance at Jake. The subtle creases of his brow, a silent acknowledgment of a storm brewing beneath the surface.

“I think we’re done for today,” she declared, as she fumbled with the ring on her finger. “We don’t want be late.”

______________

As the day melted into the evening, YN's wardrobe transitioned from the sleek ivory gowns of the boutique to a fun silver dress that shimmered with each step she took. The metallic fabric reflected the neon lights that illuminated the night, outside of the art gallery they were heading towards.

Adorning her ears were emerald earrings, thoughtful gift left by Harry at the hotel, glinting subtly as they caught the sporadic flashes of the vibrant light.

The anticipation of the evening's celebration seemed to clash with the subdued mood that had settled among the group as they approached the venue,

YN, still tense after the afternoon's emotional rollercoaster, maintained a dignified composure, though the echoes of her emotional turmoil lingered beneath the surface.

Jake, who hadn't uttered a word, let alone glanced in YN’s direction since their departure from the boutique, appeared increasingly tired as resentment simmered beneath the surface.

The vibrant energy that had characterized their friendship now hung in a delicate balance, disrupted by the unexpected currents set in motion. YN, though saddened and upset by the palpable shift in dynamics, chose to endure the silent treatment. It was true that she could have handled things with more thoughtfulness earlier.

They were welcomed into the space by the sound of music and sight of a decent crowd, a mix of art enthusiasts and socialites, swirling around the vibrant works of art.

Camille, with cheeks flushed and a self-soothed confidence fueled by a few drinks, spotted YN from across the room. "Oh my God, you're here!" she exclaimed, rushing towards her old friend with genuine excitement. She enveloped YN in a warm hug, her voice reflecting both joy and intoxication. "How have you been?" The two of them chatted for a minute.

The attention then shifted to the Greta boys, looking as handsome as ever. Camille, her eyes gleaming with mischief, greeted the boys with a seductive charm. "Well, bonsoir, gentlemen," she cooed, extending her hand with theatrical elegance, "Enchantée."

Seizing the opportunity for a flirtatious exchange, Sam pushed his brothers aside, positioning himself at the forefront. With a confident flair, he lay a delicate kiss on Camille's hand. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said, prompting the others to roll their eyes.

________

As the evening unfolded within the pulsating confines of the neon-lit gallery, Jake sought refuge at the bar, carefully avoiding any contact with YN like a sailor steering clear of a storm. His deliberate avoidance, a self-imposed exile, left her feeling adrift amidst the swirling currents of tension.

Distressed by the unspoken chasm between them, YN ended up seeking solace on the terrace, where the crisp night air provided a temporary respite from the stifling atmosphere inside. Her eyes were fixed on the ring on her finger, it glistened delicately in the light, yet felt heavier than ever on her finger.

“What are you doing out here?” Danny's voice interrupted the solitude, breaking the quietude of the night. He approached YN, his breath forming visible puffs in the chilly air.

"Is that a cigarette I see in your hand?" he asked, genuine surprise coloring his words.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," YN responded with a wry smirk. She wasn’t a regular smoker, but when days were high in stress, she sometimes found comfort in the smell and taste of tobacco, a weakness from years past. She took one last drag before moving to put out the cigarette.

"No need to put it out," Danny reassured her.

"It's okay, I don't mind," YN replied, extinguishing the cigarette with a flick of her fingers. The cool night air seemed to match the tense atmosphere lingering between them. Danny, breaking the silence, finally broached the sensitive topic that loomed over the night like a specter.

"So…" he began, his words hesitant.

"So…" she echoed, her eyes teasing him.

"Marriage, huh?" Danny eventually voiced, the question lingering in the air like an uncharted path in the dark.

"Yep," she replied, a soft smile playing on her lips. Danny and YN shared a glance that conveyed an unspoken acknowledgment — a few years back, the notion of YN embracing matrimony was nothing short of an absurdity. She and Jake had broached the topic once or twice, but it simply wasn’t her style. Not at the time, at least.

As her short response hung in the cold night air, Danny's eyes held a mix of curiosity and concern. "Are you happy?" he gently probed.

"You know…?" she paused, the words carrying the weight of introspection, "I think I am." As she spoke, the echoes of her own journey reverberated through her voice.

There was a time, not too long ago, when the prospect of happiness felt elusive, hidden in the shadows of heartbreak. After Jake, she had wandered through life with difficulty. The idea of happy-ever-after had seemed like a distant dream, an illusion shattered by the echoes of what had been.

Yet, Harry had entered her life like a gentle force, a subtle breeze that whispered promises of new beginnings. It wasn't the same love, nor did it intend to be. The edges were softer, the hues more muted, but it felt right, it felt- sensible.

She had once believed that devotion could only wear the guise of what she had known with Jake, but life had a way of rewriting its own narratives.

Danny, leaning against the cold metal railing of the terrace, absorbed YN's words with a thoughtful expression. "You've come a long way," he remarked, his voice gentle, “Both of you.”

"Yeah," YN responded, her gaze momentarily drifting to the city skyline. “He hasn’t said a word to me all afternoon, though.”

Danny nodded, understanding the weight of unspoken words. "You know him, better than most. It doesn't mean he's not happy for you; he’s just never good with change."

Amid the day's tumultuous atmosphere, Danny once again stepped into his role as the voice of reason. His words carried a soothing reassurance, a balm to the unease that had settled over YN.

She sighed, the night air carrying a hint of hesitation, "I hope so.”

A gust of wind swept through, eliciting a shiver from YN.

“You should go back inside,” Danny said with a gentle nudge, “Wouldn’t want you to catch death before you make it down the aisle.”

“Yeah,” YN chuckled back, “that would not be a good look.”

_______

As YN walked back inside, her eyes locked onto Jake, who, upon meeting her gaze, promptly diverted his course, striding purposefully in the opposite direction and disappearing into the men's room. The continuous avoidance and unspoken tension had reached its breaking point, and Danny’s reasonable words seemed like no more than a distant echo.

Fuck it.

Fed up with the unspoken rift, YN briskly followed the guitarist, determined to confront the lingering unease that had shadowed them throughout the day. With each step, her resolve strengthened. The hallway echoed with the clicking of her heels, a stark contrast to the lively hum emanating from the exhibit area behind her.

The door to the men's room swung open, revealing the dimly lit space within, and YN was met with the sight of Jake standing near the row of sinks. His posture, while seemingly casual, hinted at an anticipation that sent a ripple through the charged atmosphere.

She tried to hold onto her tenacity before it inevitably slipped away. "Can we talk?" she ventured, unnecessary loudly.

A flicker of discomfort crossed Jake's downturned gaze as he replied, "This is hardly the place."

"Since when has that been a problem?" she retorted, frustration seeping into the words. Jake's silence, an unnerving response, hung between them like an unspoken challenge. "We need to talk; you've been avoiding me all day," she continued, the weight of the unsaid pressing down on the confined space. “See? You won’t even look at me.”

"Alright," Jake finally shrugged, looking up at her, "Get on with it."

Caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze, YN hesitated for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked, concern evident in the furrow of her brow and the subtle quiver in her voice.

Jake scoffed, turning away. "What do you think?" he spat, his words cutting through the air with a sharp edge.

"You said you were happy for me," she countered, a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

"Yeah, well, what the hell d'you expect me to do?” he shot back, “I wasn't exactly about to make a scene in front of everyone."

"Jake,” she sighed, her voice softening in the face of his evident frustration, “I'm sor—"

"And to find out about it like that?" he interrupted, hurt evident in his eyes. "I mean, I know we've had our ups and downs, but Jesus, I thought we still had some respect for each other."

"I'm sorry," she offered sincerely, "this— it wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I wasn't—"

"Sure,” he pressed, his voice carrying a bitter edge, “and when exactly were you going to tell me, huh?"

"I— I don't know—" she stammered, her words an acknowledgment of the disarray surrounding the situation, a vulnerability laid bare.

"Were you just going to wait until paps got a shot of that huge rock you carry on your finger?" he continued, and YN wished she could sink into the ground. The rapid clenching and unclenching of Jake’s fists revealed the intensity of his emotional turmoil. "Or better yet, wait for me to see photos of your fucking honeymoon in the press—"

"Stop it, you know I'd never do that," she interjected defensively.

"Actually, I'm not sure I know anything about you right now," he retorted.

"And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?" she demanded, her voice tinged with defiance.

Jake looked at her for a moment, his own frustration simmering beneath the surface. "You're seriously going to make me say it?" he shot back.

"Well, I'm not a fucking mind-reader!" she roared.

"Come on, YN” he rolled his eyes, “Marriage? Mrs. Styles?" he mocked, his words carrying a weight of disbelief as if grappling with an inconceivable reality.

"Yeah, well, what about it?" she spat, attempting to conceal the hurt that flickered in her eyes.

"Please," he shook his head dismissively, as if challenging the very essence of the decision she'd made. “That's not you."

"And what do you know, huh?" she said, the echoes of her frustration reverberating off the restroom walls. "We haven't been together in years; what makes you think you know what I want for my life?"

"Because I know you!" he yelled, the force behind his words revealing a desperation to be understood. Silence hung in the air, a palpable tension between them before Jake pressed on, "and better than that jackass does, apparently,"

"You don't even know him!" she shot back, her defenses rising.

"See, that's the thing," he scoffed, a bitterness underlying his tone, "I don't need to know him. I know your taste in men."

Her eyes flickered with pain, a wounded expression betraying the impact of his words. "That's a low blow," she eventually said, a mix of hurt and indignation coloring her response, "even from you."

"Yeah, well, only the truth hurts, I guess," he mumbled, a bitter acknowledgment hanging in the air as he walked past her and headed towards the exit.

"So what?" she called out, the desperation evident in her voice. "Was I supposed to stay single for the rest of my life?" He turned around, his heart breaking as he met her sad eyes. She continued, "I—After everything- do I not deserve a chance?"

"No, that’s not-" an instinctive pull drawing him closer to her. His hand gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You know all I want is for you to be happy."

"Well, I am. For maybe the first time in years, I am," she whispered, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of his hand. "Harry, he's good, he makes me feel- safe."

He felt a pang in his chest at her words. "I'm sure he does," he said sadly, his words weighted with an unspoken ache. "That— that's not the problem."

"Well, then, what is it?" she searched his eyes, desperate for understanding.

"It's just— " he hesitated, the words burning in his throat, unwilling to ever come out. His fingers delicately brushed her hair behind her ear, and his gaze lingered on the emerald earring that dangled from her lobe. "He’s-” Jake continued, his eyelids flickering, “he's got good taste."

With those words, he walked out, leaving YN behind, paralyzed, the weight of the unspoken lingering in the air.

________

YN found herself back in the exhibition area, but the vibrant artwork was a blur as her mind wrestled with her recent exchange with Jake. The odd thrill of their heated encounter served as an unsettling reminder of what she’d left behind.

She’d messed up and he’d messed up, a pattern that seemed to keep on haunting the both of them, even in friendship.

Truth was, he’d probably been right. She wouldn’t have had the guts to tell him about her engagement.

Why, though, was a question she couldn’t quite answer. Perhaps she’d enjoyed that in-between. On some level. Perhaps she’d wanted to witness his unfiltered reaction, or she’d been curious as to what might happen if she let the news come out on its own. Perhaps she’d simply been bored out of her mind.

Her songwriting had seemed to have run dry recently. The more time passed, the more she found that ‘happiness’, whatever that was, presented a ridiculously uneventful subject. After all, there would be no grand choirs to sing, no chorus could come in about two people sitting doing nothing.

Perhaps Patty had been right when she’d said YN had always needed to go to war to find material to sing. But it was a dangerous game, one she’d renounced a long time ago. Too much of her blood had been shed. She had let the sword fall to the floor, only to be replaced by the ring on her finger.

Immobilized by a sea of emotion, YN suddenly felt a comforting presence beside her. Josh's voice cut through her thoughts.

"Don't worry about him,” he offered, “he'll come around eventually. It's just a lot to process."

"I know," she replied with uncertainty, her eyes still fixed on the artwork as if seeking solace in its silent forms.

"One of you was gonna end up getting married someday," Josh continued, "you just happened to be the first. That's nothing to apologize for." His hand found hers, the silent gesture conveying a silent promise of support.

_________

The following day unfurled with an air of quiet tension. It was YN’s turn to deliberately avoid Jake as they moved through the day's activities. However, the serendipity of travel arrangements had a laid out different plans for them.

As they boarded the plane, YN's eyes darted across the cabin in search of her seat, her desire to maintain distance palpable. Yet, the universe seemed intent on weaving a narrative of its own.

There, in the vast expanse of plane seats, she had apparently been expected to sit next to none other than the very person she’d been trying to avoid.

A flicker of reluctance crossed YN's face as she hesitated near the row, contemplating her options.

Just as she decided to retreat, Jake's hand gently reached out, “YN, come on,” a silent plea evident in his touch, "please?" His words hung in the air, soft yet compelling. It seemed he had renounced his fighting mood from the day before. She relented, sinking into the seat beside him.

The hum of the plane engines served as the backdrop to a charged silence, unspoken tension echoing in the space that stretched between their bodies.

Once takeoff was done, Jake hesitated, glancing towards YN with a contemplative expression. Breaking the uneasy silence, he began, "About yesterday..."

She met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions, a silent invitation for him to continue. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did," Jake admitted, his voice carrying a blend of regret and vulnerability. " It's just... it all caught me off guard."

YN, too, felt the weight of remorse settling in. "I should've told you. I should've found a way to tell you before,” she looked down at her hands, “but everything happened so fast, and I-I didn't know how…"

He nodded, a mix of regret and understanding in his eyes. "Still, I was an ass.”

"I get it," YN replied softly, meeting his gaze. "It's a big change. I never intended for you to feel blindsided."

He sighed in acknowledgment, "I guess we both have a lot to process. I never expected- I mean, I didn't think it would hit me that hard."

She met his gaze, a shared understanding passing between them. "To be fair, I never expected to find myself here either," she admitted, her voice soft. "But things change, I suppose."

"Yeah," he whispered, "they do."

The tension that had gripped the air between them began to slowly dissipate as YN chose to inject a much-needed dose of levity into the confined space of the plane.

"If that makes you feel better," she remarked with a gentle smile, "I’ll make sure to have a full-on meltdown when you get married, that way we’re even."

“Deal,” Jake chuckled, a warmth spreading through him, "just make it memorable, okay? Maybe hire a choir or something."

"Oh, absolutely," she nodded with mock seriousness, "I'm thinking fireworks, synchronized swimmers, the whole shebang. It's going to be an event."

“And of course, you'll need a soundtrack.” He mused, “Maybe something like ‘I Will Survive’ or ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’?"

"Solid choices," she laughed, "but I was thinking more along the lines of Cryingby Aerosmith. Really amp it up, you know?"

"Ah, a woman of refined taste," he quipped, "I'll be sure to add it to the playlist.”

She nodded, playing along, "And a fog machine as well, for my dramatic entrance.

"Well, naturally," Jake responded, “Can't forget the fog.”

The banter continued, a familiar cadence of playful exchanges that danced on the edge of shared memories. YN, feeling a sense of relief, leaned into the easy camaraderie they had always shared.

"So," Jake eventually needled, a curious glint dancing in his eyes, "have you set a date?"

“No, not yet" she responded with a casual shrug. "But knowing us, it's probably going to be a while. We're constantly swamped with work. You know how it is.”

“Too busy to plan your special day?” he smirked, “I don’t believe it, you were already picking your dress, weren’t you?”

“Well, I do have my priorities straight,” YN laughed. “But seriously, though,” she insisted, “I swear you might end up tying the knot before I do.”

Jake chuckled in response.

__________

He would contemplate the conversation in the following weeks, assuming the wedding talk had merely been banter. The idea of YN getting married seemed like a distant future, perhaps years away.

Little did he know that merely a month later, a small, elegant envelope would arrive in the mail, bearing news that would unknowingly alter the course of their fate.

Miss YN YLN and Mr Harry Styles Request the pleasure of your company at their Wedding Save the Date

Next Track : St Jude

Series Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

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