#cowboy hat

Not just one, bobbing above the crowd like it had wandered in from a completely different genre of party. The guy wearing it was in a black button-up rolled to the elbows, dark jeans, boots that had actually seen dirt, and that ridiculous tan hat tilted just enough to look intentional. He was dancing like he didn’t care who was watching, hips loose, one hand on the brim of the hat to keep it in place while he spun some girl in fairy wings. When she wandered off, he didn’t miss a beat, just pivoted and kept moving to the beat of whatever remix of "Sweet Home Alabama" the DJ had butchered next.

You realized you were staring when he looked straight at you and grinned.

Oh no.

He made his way over, weaving through bodies without spilling a drop of whatever was in his cup. When he reached you, he didn’t crowd, just leaned one shoulder against the wall beside you and tipped the hat in an exaggerated salute.

"Howdy" he said, voice warm with laughter. "You look like you’re planning your escape route."

You snorted before you could stop yourself. "Is it that obvious?"

"Little bit. I’m Jake." He offered the cup. "Want some? It’s mostly Sprite pretending to be a cocktail."

You took it, mostly to have something to do with your hands. "Y/N. And I’m not escaping yet. Just… assessing."

"Smart. Always case the exits." He nodded seriously, then ruined it with another grin. "But you should stay. The cowboy hat is a limited-time offer."

You raised an eyebrow. "You always wear that to frat parties?"

"Only when I lose a bet." He spun the hat off his head and plopped it onto yours before you could dodge. It was warm from his hair and smelled faintly of cedar and something citrus. "Looks better on you anyway."

You reached up to adjust it, suddenly hyper-aware of how many people were around. "Smooth."

"I try." He tilted his head. "Dance with me?"

"I don’t really-"

"It’s not a question of skill" he said, already taking your hand. "It’s a question of whether you letting me embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl."

You let him pull you into the crowd.

Jake danced like someone who’d grown up doing it, two-stepping effortlessly even when the music was pure chaos. He kept one hand lightly at your waist, the other holding yours, guiding you through turns that made the room spin in the best way. The cowboy hat stayed on your head the whole time; every time you tried to give it back, he just pushed it down more firmly and said "Finders keepers."

After the third song, you were laughing too hard to protest when he tugged you toward the kitchen for water. He poured two glasses from the sink filter like it was a five-star bar, then hopped up to sit on the counter, legs swinging.

"So" he said "what’s your major, Y/N-with-the-stolen-hat?"

"English lit. You?"

"Architecture. I like building things." He paused. "And tearing them down, if we’re talking about my GPA."

You laughed. "How do you have time for cowboy cosplay with all that demolition?"

"Priorities." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Tell me something real. One true thing."

You blinked. "What?"

"No major, no hometown, favorite color. Something real."

You thought for a second. "I’m terrified I’m going to graduate and still not know what I want to do with my life."

He nodded slowly. "I’m terrified I do know, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life regretting it."

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward; it just felt honest.

Then he smiled, softer this time. "Come on. I need air."

He led you through the back door onto a tiny porch lit by one string of Christmas lights someone never took down. The music was muffled out here, replaced by crickets and distant traffic. Jake sat on the top step; you sat beside him, still wearing his hat.

He bumped your shoulder. "You cold?"

"A little."

Without asking, he shrugged out of his overshirt, black flannel, warm from his body, and draped it over your shoulders. You pulled it closer.

"You do this often?" you asked. "The whole charming-stranger-on-the-porch thing?"

"Only when I see someone who looks like she’s carrying the weight of her future on her shoulders and still managing to look that good doing it."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. "You’ve been hitting on me for, like, thirty minutes straight."

"Has it only been thirty?" He checked an imaginary watch. "I’m losing my touch."

You laughed again, he had a way of making it impossible not to, and when you turned, he was already looking at you. The Christmas lights reflected in his eyes, turning them amber.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, quiet.

You nodded before your brain caught up.

He leaned in slow enough that you could have stopped him. You didn’t. The kiss was soft at first, just a brush of lips, testing. Then you tilted your head and it deepened, his hand coming up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek. He tasted like Sprite and something sharper, whiskey maybe, and you felt the cowboy hat slip backward off your head. He caught it one-handed without breaking the kiss and set it gently on the step beside you.

When you pulled apart, foreheads still touching, he whispered "Still planning your escape?"

"Changed my mind" you whispered back.

He smiled against your mouth. "Good."

You made out on the porch until your lips were swollen and the cold finally won. Jake stood first, offering his hand. "My place is two blocks away. Roommates are at some engineering formal tonight. We’d have it to ourselves."

You hesitated for half a second. Then you took his hand.

The walk was quiet, fingers intertwined, the cowboy hat back on your head because he insisted. His house was one of those old converted Victorians split into student apartments, lights off except for the porch one someone always forgot to turn off. He unlocked the door, let you in first, then followed and clicked it shut behind him.

The living room was typical guy chaos, gaming controllers, empty cans, a single houseplant that was definitely dead, but he didn’t stop there. He led you down the hall to his room, shutting that door too.

His room was surprisingly tidy. A desk covered in sketches and models, string lights around the window, a record player in the corner. The bed was made, navy comforter pulled tight.

Jake kicked off his boots, then looked at you, suddenly a little shy. "We can just talk, if you-"

You stepped forward and kissed him again, harder this time. Jake groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling you against him so you could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing through his jeans. It sent a thrill through you, heat pooling low in your belly. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, revealing smooth, tanned skin stretched over lean muscle. He wasn't bulky like some of the frat guys you'd seen at the party, but there was a quiet strength there, from hours spent sketching or maybe hiking, whatever architects did in their free time.

Your fingers traced the lines of his chest, down to the faint trail of hair disappearing into his waistband. He shivered under your touch, his own hands working at the buttons of the flannel he'd given you earlier. It slipped off your shoulders, pooling on the floor, and then he was lifting your top, cool air hitting your skin as he tossed it aside. His gaze dropped to your bra, simple black lace that you'd thrown on without much thought, but the way he looked at it, like it was a gift, made you feel exposed in the best way.

"God, you're beautiful" he murmured, voice rough. His fingers skimmed the straps, pushing them down your arms before reaching behind to unhook it with surprising ease. The bra joined the growing pile on the floor, and Jake's mouth was on you immediately, lips closing around one nipple while his hand cupped the other breast, thumb circling the peak.

You arched into him, a gasp escaping as pleasure sparked through you. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him there as he lavished attention on your chest, switching sides with a wet pop that made your thighs clench. He kissed lower, trailing his mouth down your sternum, over your ribs, until he was kneeling in front of you, hands at the button of your jeans.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours in silent question. "Yes" you whispered, nodding for emphasis.

Jake popped the button, tugged down the zipper, and helped you shimmy out of the denim, taking your underwear with it in one smooth motion. You stepped out of them, feeling vulnerable but empowered by the hunger in his expression. He pressed a kiss to your hipbone, then another to the inside of your thigh, his breath hot against your skin.

"Jake" you breathed, not sure if you were begging or just saying his name.

He stood slowly, his hands gliding up your legs, your sides, until he was cupping your face again. "I've got you" he said softly, then kissed you as he backed you toward the bed.

The mattress hit the back of your knees, and you sat, then scooted back as he followed, crawling over you. But you had other ideas. You pushed at his shoulders, flipping your positions so he was on his back, looking up at you with a surprised grin.

"Bossy" he teased, but his hands were already on your thighs, squeezing gently.

You straddled his hips, feeling the rough denim against your bare skin. "You're complaining?"

"Not even a little." His voice was husky, eyes roaming over your naked body like he was committing it to memory.

You leaned down to kiss him, deep and slow, your breasts brushing his chest. As the kiss heated up, you ground against him, the friction of his jeans against your core making you whimper. Jake's hands gripped your ass, guiding your movements, his hips bucking up to meet you.

"Need you" you murmured against his lips, reaching between you to fumble with his belt.

Jake chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. "Impatient, huh?" But he complied, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt while you worked on the button and zipper. Together, you shoved the jeans down his legs, along with his boxers, kicking them off the bed in a tangled heap. His cock sprang free, hard and heavy, curving slightly toward his abdomen. The sight of it made your mouth water: thick, veined, with a flushed tip already beading with precum.

You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly from base to tip, feeling him twitch in your grip. Jake hissed, his head falling back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. "Fuck, Y/N" he groaned, hips bucking up into your touch. "That feels too good."

You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his collarbone, then lower, trailing your lips over the defined ridges of his abs. His skin was warm, tasting faintly of salt from the sweat of dancing earlier. As you stroked him, you watched his reactions, the way his chest rose and fell faster, the muscles in his thighs tensing. Power surged through you; this confident, charming guy was coming undone under your hands.

A moan escaped you as he sat up slightly, pulling you closer so he could take one nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it, sucking gently, then harder, sending jolts of pleasure straight between your legs. You arched into him, your free hand tangling in his hair, holding him there. The other hand kept stroking him, twisting slightly at the head, spreading the slickness.

"Jake" you breathed, grinding against his thigh for some relief. The pressure built inside you, a needy ache that demanded more.

But you wanted more, wanted to feel him inside you.

You positioned yourself over him, lining him up with your entrance. Jake's hands steadied your hips, his eyes locked on where you were about to join. "Condom?" he asked suddenly, voice strained.

You paused, cursing internally. "Shit, do you have one?"

He nodded toward the nightstand. "Drawer."

You leaned over, fumbling it open and grabbing a foil packet. Tearing it with your teeth, you rolled it on him with steady hands, his cock twitching under your fingers. Then you were back, hovering above him.

Slowly, you sank down, taking him inch by inch. The stretch was exquisite, a burn that quickly melted into pleasure as you adjusted. Jake's fingers dug into your hips, his jaw clenched, breath coming in short pants.

"Oh god" you moaned when he was fully seated, your walls fluttering around him.He sat up slightly, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, his mouth finding your neck. "You feel so good" he whispered, nipping at your earlobe. "So tight, so wet for me."

You rocked experimentally, and pleasure shot through you like lightning. Bracing your hands on his chest, you started to move, lifting up and sliding back down in a slow rhythm. Jake's hands guided you, but he let you set the pace, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you ride him.

The room filled with the sounds of your bodies: skin slapping, heavy breaths, soft moans. You leaned forward, changing the angle so your clit rubbed against his pelvis with every thrust. It built the pressure inside you, coiling tighter and tighter.

Jake's hands roamed, one sliding up to pinch your nipple, the other dipping between your legs to circle your clit with his thumb. "That's it" he encouraged, voice gravelly. "Ride, cowgirl. Use me."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you picked up speed, bouncing harder. The bed creaked under you, but you didn't care. All that mattered was the way he filled you, the friction, the heat.

He thrust up to meet you, hitting that spot deep inside that made you see stars. "Jake!" you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Yeah, say my name" he growled, his thumb pressing harder on your clit. "Let me hear you."

You did, moaning it over and over as you chased your release. Sweat slicked your skin, making your bodies glide together. Jake's free hand cupped your breast, kneading it as he sucked the other nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing just enough to sting.

The dual sensations pushed you closer to the edge. You ground down, circling your hips, and he cursed, his control fraying. "I'm close" he warned, hips snapping up harder.

"Me too" you panted, riding him faster, the coil in your belly about to snap.

He shifted so you were still on top but he could thrust deeper, his feet planted on the bed for leverage. "Come for me" he demanded, fingers working your clit relentlessly.

It hit you like a wave, crashing over you as your orgasm ripped through. You clenched around him, crying out his name, body shaking. Jake followed seconds later, groaning as he spilled into the condom, his hips stuttering.

You collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing hard. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as the aftershocks faded.

"That was..." you trailed off, words failing.

"Amazing," he finished, kissing your forehead. "You're amazing."

You smiled, content in the glow. For now, this was enough, the cowboy hat long forgotten on the floor.

After, tangled in sheets and each other, he traced lazy circles on your back.

"So" he murmured, voice sleepy and satisfied, "can I get your number, or is the hat the only thing I get to keep?"

You laughed into his shoulder. "You can have both."

He kissed your temple.

Down the road, the party had probably ended hours ago. Here, the string lights glowed soft gold, and Jake’s heartbeat under your cheek was steady and real. You weren’t thinking about the future regrets anymore.

Just this. Just now. Just him.

• when traveling from stop to stop in that cramped tour bus he always makes sure you're comfortable no matter what, even if it sacrifices his own comfort

• makes sure you have a seat for each stop, and makes sure its a good one each time because he wants you to be able to enjoy the show like any other fan would

• got you an aisle seat for one of the stops and when they went down the aisles he stopped near where you where and then helds fans hands, yet when he gripped yours he looked you dead in the eyes and held on for just a fraction longer than the other fans, giving it a squeeze before letting go

• makes sure the food backstage is safe for you to eat if you have any restrictions or preferences, he wants you to be fed so he'll do anything to keep you happy and healthy

• during the irving stop he wore a cowboy hat, it made such an impact that you went out before everyone had to leave and bought him his own hat just for you two to enjoy

• if theres a hotel involved just know he'll make sure you're rooming with him, and close by at all times as he doesnt want you to feel ostracized from the group by being in a separate room (he also just always wants to cuddle)

• will mention certain sentences and phrases on stage that you two use together on a daily basis, and do dance moves that you two laugh about together in a room at 2am

• will always make sure to go a little wild on your side of the stage just because he knows for a fact it drives you insane and he'll be all over you later

• swears on stage only cause he knows you like it.

• after a show, and you're backstage with them, even though he's drenched in sweat he will hug you and when you try and push him away he'll just pick you up and spin you around

• bought you his shirt from the tour merch and makes sure you wear it to every show and if you dont he'll get all sulky

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