Nothing But Thieves Imagines (Mature Content)

Authorized for Takeoff - Joe

Hey y'all, here's a request! It's my first Joe fic so bear with me! And help me decide where to go next... 

Request: "The reader and Joe at an airport, and on the plane they are teasing each other, and just being cute, then when they land things get a bit more... heated?and maybe y/n likes his hair cuz that hair is fr healthier than my future- my love language is touch so if you could do something with that I'd really appreciate it :D"

healthier than my future haha love it! ok here we go ;)

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It had all started last night.

Wait, is that even true? Not really. It had started long before last night.

It had really started six weeks ago, the minute I arrived for the North America tour. I just hadn't noticed until it was too late, and I was a goner.

Now I stood staring at Joe's back, his shoulders sagging as he gazed out the window to the night sky, a nearly finished bottle of beer dangling from his hand. That dejected form nearly broke my heart in two. And it was all my fault.

Six short weeks ago, I'd been so excited to finally get a gig as a head sound tech. I'd seen photos on the band, and I'd always liked their music. When I met them, though, I was simply floored. They were more genuine and kind than I'd expected, ensuring all the crew's needs were seen to from day one. And they didn't just keep to themselves, like some bands – each night was a new adventure in a new city for them, and they often treated all the crew to beers after an especially successful night.

It didn't take long for me and Joe to strike up a friendship. One day he'd wandered into the booth after their soundcheck, all crooked grins and curious questions. I'd shown him the new sound board and the different effects we could achieve.

"What's the switch that toggles those muting effects again?" he's asked, his tongue pressing against his teeth.

I'd started to show him, then froze.

"Why do you want to know?" I'd asked, skeptically. He'd just grinned mysteriously.

"You want to play tricks on Jack and them, don't you." He laughed a hearty, unfettered laugh, and a tingle panged through my stomach at the sound. His hair shook at floated through the air when he laughed. It....did things to me. 

But despite his protests, I shooed him out.

"Aw, come on, those guys deserve it, did you see what they did to our bus last night-"

"Out with you, now," I'd retorted, scooting him out.

After that, his visits to the sound booth became a staple of the pre-gig afternoons. At first I thought he was still trying to soak up tech knowledge to prank the Kid Kaphichi guys during their opening set. But he never asked again, just sidling by with his pre-show beer to shoot the shit while I set up. When he discovered my love of classical history we'd talked Homeric epics, and when I'd discovered his love of football we talked Premier League.

I began to secretly look forward to these little interactions, to our fifteen or so minutes where we'd shoot the shit before he went backstage. He'd always place an affectionate hand on my shoulder before leaving. I'd always feel that warm, invisible handprint for quite awhile after.

And it wasn't just in the sound booth that we interacted. As a woman in a predominantly male industry, I was used to guys hitting on me, and knew how to handle most anything – from politely rebuffing genuine requests to get to know me better, to defending myself from overt harassment.

On this tour, however, I noticed that whenever the group was out drinking, Joe was never far from my line of sight. He didn't spend a noticeably different amount of time around me – on the contrary, it was difficult to get his attention during post-show parties, what with everyone crowding around to listen to his whip-smart opinions on everything in the world.