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shakespeareanwannabe · 30 days

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As You Wish, Chapter 8

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings/Disclaimers: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, breastfeeding, swearing, angst, tears, references to drinking, sadness, references to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, adults doing sneaky things, references to babies

San Diego, California, almost 12 years ago

Buttercup slowly rocked in her chair, the slight breeze from the open window fluttering the pale-yellow curtains that she had hung so carefully while Jake had been deployed. Of course, he had lost his ever-loving shit when he had come home to find the nursery half decorated and the furniture half built, but the hour-long lecture about taking it easy during pregnancy and not doing any heavy lifting had been worth it.

The nursery was exactly as she had pictured it, once Jake had finished building the furniture and Javy and Bob had finished painting the walls the pale-yellow she had chosen. The mural of pink and purple butterflies she had painted on the wall looked so perfect behind the dark cherry wood cribs, and the colours perfectly matched the crib bedding she had ordered.

She had poured her heart and soul into decorating the nursery, their forever home…and now she was leaving it. Her bags were packed and stacked by the door. She was just waiting for Jake to return with Abby so they could go their separate ways.

Buttercup sniffled as she looked down at the tiny baby suckling on her breast. “I hope you know that I would take you both with me in a heartbeat if I could,” she whispered down to her sweet Charlie. “But we have to be fair. And…” she choked back a sob. “Your sister needs me more than you do right now.”

Abby’s weight had been dropping steadily in the weeks since the divorce had been finalized, and Buttercup’s doctor thought that the stress of it all had been affecting her milk supply, and so had recommended switching Charlie to formula so that Abby could absorb all the extra nutrients she needed. Therefore, when the judge had agreed to their abnormal custody arrangement, Buttercup had made the difficult decision to take Abby, leaving Jake with all the pumped breastmilk she had stored so that Charlie wouldn’t have to transition to formula right away.

Still, the decision had nearly broken her, as much as the decision to divorce her husband had.

“I’ll see you again soon,” she whispered as Charlie released her. Buttercup lifted her daughter onto her shoulder and patted her back. “As soon as your dad’s schedule calms down a little and I get settled in my new home, we’ll start figuring out how to share custody, okay? But I promise you, Charlie. I love you and I will miss you so much.” Buttercup’s shoulders heaved with the effort it took not to break down into sobs. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. You don’t deserve any of this happening to you. I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work. I’m sorry I can’t take both of you. I…I’m so sorry.”

Buttercup snuggled Charlie closer and gently rocked, willing time to either slow down or just stop. It was moments like this that made her second guess every decision she had made in her life. Feelings of failure and shame washed over her as easily as the ocean washed over the sand in the distance. She had failed the sweet little girl in her arms and her sister. They both had.

Buttercup didn’t know how much time had passed before a low cough broke her concentrated view on the ocean in the distance.

Jake stood with a sleeping Abby in his arms, shadows of grief and longing painting his face. “Hey…”

All the words she wanted to say pressed against lips, but she was able to squeeze out a small, “Hey,” in reply without breaking down.

“She…she’s all ready,” Jake murmured, his falling to the infant in his arms.

“So is she,” Buttercup whispered. “All the milk I pumped is in the fridge, and…and her favourite blanket is in her crib. She…” Buttercup bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She couldn’t cry in front of him. She wouldn’t let herself cry in front of him, not again. Not ever again.

“I know,” Jake saved her, nodding at the list pinned to the corkboard. “You wrote it all down for me.”

As though moving through quicksand, Buttercup stood and waded towards him. With practiced, ease they switched babies, Abby now content in her mother’s arms and Charlie in her father’s.

“Hey…maybe we could—”

Buttercup shook her head, her eyes trained on Charlie’s sleeping face. If she met those green eyes of his, she’d fall apart for sure.

“No…we can’t.”

Somehow, she knew Jake was nodding. “Right…we can’t.”

Buttercup’s lips trembled but she refused to break. “I guess we’ll be in touch about custody…”

Jake sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be in touch.”

“O-okay…goodbye, Jake.”

Heaviness hung over both of them, the weight of everything they were leaving unsaid sitting like a leaden cloud. “Goodbye, Buttercup.”

London, England, Now

When Charlie awoke the next morning, it was to a growing sense of relief mixed with absolute dread. Relief because she wasn’t holding onto this huge dark secret that had been taking up the majority of her brain power. Uncle Bob knew. He knew and he wasn’t upset. He loved her despite her not being Abby. He loved her despite not seeing her for almost 12 years. He held her and let her cry, then ate ice cream with her and talked about her life in Texas, all the questions she’d been wanting to ask pouring from her lips like some sort of waterfall. Bob knew her secret and still loved her. In fact, he’d known the whole time, but Mom didn’t know. And he wasn’t going to tell her.

That’s where the dread came in. Telling mom. She wasn’t worried that Mom wouldn’t love her once she found out that she wasn’t Charlie, but she was worried about her reaction. Would she cry? How would she react if her Mom started crying right in front of her? What if she was angry at them for doing something so reckless? Charlie didn’t know if she could handle her mom being angry with her. What if she blamed her father? Dad hadn’t known anything about this plan and, according to Abby at least, he was completely clueless about the switch, but if their divorce had been so bad that they had to put an ocean between them, who could say if Mom would get irrationally angry at Dad for letting this happen? Even though Charlie had mixed feelings about her dad and uncles lately, she wouldn’t be able to sit there and listen to her Dad be dragged through the dirt by her Mom. However, she had promised Bob that she would tell her, and she always kept her promises.

Charlie yawned and stretched and rolled out of bed, stopping to get dressed and grab her phone, where a notification from Abby was waiting.

A: Rooster knows.

Charlie’s heart stuttered in her chest.

C: WHAT? HOW?

A: Your stupid horse gave me away. You didn’t tell me she was so skittish.

Crap. She’d known she’d forgotten something, but there wasn’t exactly anything she could do about Lovebug being bonded to her and only her. Dad and Javy had a hard time getting close to her sometimes.

C: Crap. Sorry!

A: It’s okay. He said my lack of football knowledge and my vocabulary gave me away too. But he’s not going to tell Dad.

C: He’s not?

A: Yeah, he said it would be more fun for him to mess with Dad.

Charlie took a deep breath. At least there was that. Javy might have been willing to tell Dad because the two had been best friends since they were kids, so Rooster was the better person to find out anyway.

C: Okay…well, Bob found out too.

A: Oh no!

C: Turns out I’m not very convincing. He figured me out at the airport…in Buffalo.

A: What’s he going to do?

C: He said he wasn’t going to tell Mom…but that I have to.

A: Okay. When are you going to?

C: Today

A: So soon? What if she wants us to switch back?

Charlie frowned, a plan slowly taking form in her mind.

C: That wouldn’t be so bad. We could meet at a hotel in Texas and have them fall back in love with each other there?

A: And Savannah?

Charlie rolled her eyes.

C: I don’t know. But Dad can’t possibly be happy with her. Once he sees Mom again, the engagement will be off, and we’ll get to be a family again.

A: And if that doesn’t work?

C: We’ll figure it out. Together.

That’s what Uncle Bob had said. That they’d figure everything out together. Whether or not their parents fell back in love with each other, they wouldn’t be on their own to figure out a solution to their problems.

A: Okay. Tell me if Mum wants to talk to me?

C: I will…love you

A: Love you too

Charlie tucked her phone away and went downstairs, finding Bob drinking his coffee, dressed in an old Top Gun t-shirt and sweatpants, and Natasha, lounging on the couch, still in her pajamas.

“Good morning, everyone,” the slight British lilt that she had been practicing quavered as Bob met her eyes over the rim of his mug.

“Hey kid,” Nat greeted, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

Bob gently placed his mug down and came over to greet her with a hug. “Sleep well?” he whispered into her hair.

“Better. A lot better after talking to you,” she admitted, relaxing into the hug. “Are you not working today?”

He shook his head, straightening to his full height. “It’s my day off anyway, but I cancelled my plans. Figured you might want some emotional support, so I’ll be here if you need me.”

Charlie squeezed her arms around him, the same way she did with her dad or uncles whenever she was overwhelmed by the way they always had her back.

“Thanks, Uncle Bob,” she whispered, the lilted accent in her voice dropping away for a moment.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Nat sat up and stared at them over the back of the couch.

Charlie’s eyes shot to Bob’s, but he nodded reassuringly. “Nat should probably know, right? And you can see it as a sort of…rehearsal for telling your mom.”

Gulping, Charlie nodded and turned, squaring her shoulders.

“You two are acting so weird. Is someone dying?” Nat placed her bowl down and stood, coming around to stand in front of her. “Abby, doll, you know you can tell me anything. What is with all the whispering?”

Charlie took a deep breath and looked into her aunt’s eyes, ignoring the clouding and the scar that had stolen her aunt’s career and part of her vision.

“…I’m not,” she replied in a shaky breath.

“You’re not what? Dying? That’s good to know, kid, but I kinda figured.”

“No…I’m not A-Abby,” Charlie swallowed hard.

Nat’s brows furrowed, the silvery scar jumping slightly. “Of course you are,” Nat shook her head. “You’re not making any sense. You’re Abby. You have to be Abby. If you’re not Abby, then you’re…”

Bob stepped closer and put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder.

“I’m what?” Charlie’s throat felt like it was closing up as Nat knelt down so they were eye to eye, her good eye furiously racing over her features as though trying to detect the truth.

“Charlie?” her aunt whispered, looking up to Bob for confirmation as Charlie nodded hesitantly. “Holy shit…Charlie?”

“Language, Nat,” Bob admonished with a chuckle as Charlie was swept off her feet into a bear hug that left her ribs aching and her heart singing.

“Oh, fuck off!” Nat placed Charlie on her feet and whirled around to meet her former partner. “You knew and you didn’t tell me? How long have you known? How long has he known?”

“I always knew,” Bob said with a shrug, retreating behind the kitchen counter as Nat advanced on him.

“Always…always knew? You mean you’ve known this entire freaking time? And you didn’t tell me? What the hell, Robert?”

Bob winced slightly. “I figured it wasn’t my secret to tell. And could you keep your voice down, please? My sister doesn’t know yet.”

“Your sist…Buttercup doesn’t know?” Nat gaped at them both. “Okay, we are sitting down right now, and you are telling me the whole story. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” uncle and niece sat on the couch, their proverbial tails tucked between their legs.

Nat sat in the armchair across from them and folded her arms. “Speak.”

“Before I do,” blurted Charlie. “Where’s mom?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Apparently, she dreamt up a solution to her plot problem and just had to write it down while it was fresh. She’s been at it since 4 a.m., and I don’t see her coming down any time soon.”

“Okay…” Charlie took a deep breath and launched into the story: being sent to Penny’s camp, meeting Abby and immediately disliking her, the shoving match that led to them being sent to the brig, finding the photos from Las Vegas, Amelia telling them about their parents’ marriage, and, finally, their brilliant idea to switch places so they could meet their missing parent. “We plan on telling them the truth at the end of the week and refusing to switch back unless they meet in person.”

Nat studied her, brow furrowed and eyes never leaving her face. “What are you two hoping to achieve with this?”

Charlie bit her thumb nail and shrugged. “Best case scenario? They figure out a better custody arrangement so I’ll still get to see mom and Abby can still see dad. Dream scenario?” Charlie blushed. “Mom and dad fall back in love and we won’t need a custody arrangement at all.”

Natasha shook her head. “Sorry to burst your bubble, kid, but I don’t think that dream is gonna come true. Even getting a better custody arrangement would be really difficult. Sure, there’s no global pandemic to contend with now, but trying to line up visitation while your dad runs the risk of getting deployed would make it—”

“Dad’s not getting deployed anymore,” Charlie interrupted. “He—”

“Okay, so he got promoted enough so that he’s not going to be called away from home to deal with a crisis. And trust me, there’s always some crisis or another that’ll keep your dad away from San Diego.”

“We don’t live in San Diego, Auntie Nat.”

Nat stopped rambling and looked at her. “Okay then, where do you live?”

“On the ranch in Texas with Uncle Rooster and Uncle Javy.”

Bob leaned forward. “Javy and Rooster live with you too?”

“Yeah, they retired from the Navy the same day you did. How do you guys not know this? Didn’t you keep in touch with anyone from the Dagger Squad? Mickey or Reuben or Kally?” Charlie stared at them, aghast. She’d always assumed that the members of the Dagger Squad had kept in touch with each other, even if Uncle Bob and Natasha had become mom’s support system after the divorce, same as Javy and Rooster had become dad’s.

They both slowly shook their heads. “We, uh…we kind of lost contact with everyone after we left the Navy,” Bob replied. “It all happened so fast, Charlie. We were given the option of retiring or moving on to a different unit, and that was that.”

“But why? I thought you guys were a team? A family? That’s what Aunt Penny always says! How could you just lose touch with them?”

“Because it was too damn hard, that’s why,” Natasha bit out, an unreadable look in her eyes. “Because I didn’t want to hear about them flying missions and hitting me with the “Sorry, Phoenix, but it’s classified” line whenever I ask about their work, if I ever asked about their work. Because I didn’t want their damn pity. Because it was hard enough being a female pilot, but almost losing my eye and being grounded? That was damn near unbearable.”

Charlie shrank back in her seat and nodded. “Oh…sorry.”

Bob placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Charlie. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault, really. Sometimes it’s just easier to say goodbye and let everyone go their separate ways instead of trying to hang onto something that’s not there anymore. I tried to reach out to a few people on the team, including your dad, but they were either always deployed or their numbers weren’t reachable or their numbers had changed. That’s what happens sometimes, kiddo. That’s just life.”

Charlie bit her lip, the question she had been longing to ask pushing against her lips until she finally asked, “So…that’s what happened? It’s not that you didn’t want me? It’s that you couldn’t reach my dad?”

Bob wrapped an arm around her shoulders as Nat slid onto the couch cushion next to her, the two of them pulling her into a hug.

“Of course we wanted you, Charlie,” Nat whispered. “We missed you like crazy, kid.”

Bob pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Your mom wanted you too. And she’s going to be so happy when she finds out you’re here.”

Charlie pulled away and chanced a glance over the back of the couch towards the stairs. “I…I should go tell her.”

Bob nodded. “Yeah, kiddo. You should. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Charlie stood and Natasha jabbed an elbow into Bob’s gut. “You mean, we’ll be right here if you need us.”

Charlie grinned as Bob rubbed his stomach. “Thanks guys.”

She turned and faced the stairs, feeling like her stomach was somewhere near her feet. Then, she started to climb.

Charlie stood outside her mother’s bedroom, hand poised to knock, but her stomach was still living somewhere near her feet and her hand was shaking so badly that she was afraid that she would miss the door completely when she tried to knock.

Everything was happening so quickly. Just last month, she had been an only child on a ranch full of men. Now, she was a twin with three uncles and an aunt and, most importantly, two parents who loved and wanted her. Or so Bob and Natasha had said. She knew that they loved her, but the fear that her mother would end up rejecting her was so strong that it made her want to run out of the house and hide somewhere. But she couldn’t. She had promised Bob and Natasha and besides that, she didn’t want to live somewhere she wasn’t accepted for who she was. So, if mom rejected her, she would happily go back to Texas and live a happy ever after life with her family, who was clearly trying to protect her.

Nodding determinedly at the solution she had formulated in her head, she knocked quickly on the door and stuck her head in, spotting her mother folded into her writing chair.

“Hey babe,” Buttercup yawned, tilting her computer screen down. “Sorry I didn’t come down for breakfast. I thought I solved my issues; I had this whole dream about the solution. But the characters don’t want to listen to me. I swear, Abby, it makes me want to throw in the towel.”

Charlie fiddled with her fingers as she listened. The past few days, she had loved listening to her mother talk about her stories and how she teased out the plot points, but now she felt guilt and anxiety weigh on her heart. As much as she wanted to act tough, she desperately wanted her mother to love her for her, not because she thought she was Abby.

“Mom? Can we talk about something?”

In less than a second, she watched Buttercup go from author mode to mom mode. She stood, pulled her light cotton robe over her pajamas and stretched, putting a gentle hand between her shoulder blades and steering her towards the bed.

“Of course, Abby. Hop on up and we can talk about whatever you want.”

Buttercup propped herself up against the pillows and turned her body towards Charlie, who crawled into the left side of the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest.

“I…” To her horror, Charlie felt tears well up in her eyes. She slammed them shut before any could escape and felt her hands tremble.

The mattress shifted and warm arms encircled her before Buttercup spoke. “Abby, sweetheart, what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

“I…I don’t want you to get mad,” Charlie whimpered into her mother’s shoulder.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think it’s possible for me to get mad at you,” Buttercup hummed, pulling her close and rocking her gently side to side. “Remember when you accidentally kidnapped Mr. Tomkit’s cat? You were holding poor Shadow hostage in your closet and dressing him up for tea for three days before we found out. Did I get mad then?”

Charlie’s tears streamed down her face. “I…I don’t know,” she murmured truthfully. Abby had never shared that story with her.

“Of course I didn’t,” Buttercup replied in a soft voice. “You were only six. The point is, whatever happened, an accident or a mistake, we’ll figure it out like we always do, yeah? It’s you and me, sweetheart. It always has been, and we’ve managed well so far, haven’t we?”

“B-but what if this time makes you not love me anymore?” The question leapt forth before she could stop it, the question she had been both dying to ask and too afraid of hearing the answer.

Buttercup’s hands found Charlie’s shoulders and eased her away just enough to look in her eyes. “Abigail Juliet Floyd, nothing could ever make me not love you anymore. Nothing in this whole universe. You hear me?”

“But I’m not Abby! I’m Charlie!” she sobbed, her hands raising to cover her face. “Abby and I met at camp, and she really wanted to meet dad and I really wanted to meet you, so we swapped places!” To Charlie, it was as though everything had been frozen in time. She couldn’t hear the birds chirping outside her mother’s window or Auntie Nat’s trashy tv shows playing on the tv downstairs. Nothing moved and nothing sounded in the longest minute of Charlotte Delta Seresin’s life.

And then, those warm arms wrapped around her tightly and held her close. “My baby…my sweet Charlotte…”

Charlie flung her arms around her mother and buried her head in her neck, breathing in the hibiscus and jasmine perfume and feeling the soft silk of her mother’s pajamas under her cheek. “You’re not m-mad?” Charlie whispered.

She fought her hands not to cling to her mother as she pulled away, just far enough to look at her. “How could I be mad?” Charlie’s heart clenched at the sight of the pearly tears clinging to her mother’s cheeks. “It’s really you, Charlie?”

Charlie nodded meekly, tucking her feet up underneath her. “Abby taught me everything about her life while we were at camp. She wanted to meet dad so badly, and I always dreamed of meeting you. I was so scared to tell you because I was afraid you left me because you didn’t want me…”

Buttercup’s gentle fingers traced over her daughter’s features, sadness filling her eyes. “I’ve loved you and wanted you since before you were even born, Charlie,” she whispered. “I…I’m so sorry we failed you, love. It’s no excuse, but this was never supposed to be permanent. We just let time get away from us, I suppose. But please…you need to know that I missed you every single day, sweetpea. I love you so much.”

Charlie let herself relax into Buttercup’s arms, her tears slowing and her breathing steadying. “I love you too, mom.”

A few hours later, the three Floyds and their honorary fourth member sat clustered around Buttercup’s computer, a Zoom call open in front of them as they waited for the call to be answered.

“I still can’t believe you knew before I did. A mother is supposed to know her own children,” Buttercup worried her lower lip as she stared at Bob, on the other side of Charlie.

“In Charlie’s defence, she really pulled the act together once she got to the house,” Bob replied. “And in your defence, you do know your children. It might have just been too difficult for you to even try to rationalize that the girl in front of you might not be Abby.” Bob shot Buttercup a meaningful look as the dark screen in front of them suddenly filled with colour.

“Uncle Roo, you need to back up,” they heard Abby gripe. “They can only see your shirt right now.”

Rooster backed up and sat in a chair behind a desk, Abby perched next to him.

“Hey, old man,” Natasha teased.

Bradley huffed slightly, a light smile dancing across his face. “Hey yourself, Phoenix. Hey Buttercup.”

Buttercup’s face filled with fondness. “Hey Bradley, how are you?”

He shrugged as the pixels danced across the screen. “Can’t complain. How’s my girl? Ow! Sorry, Jesus. I mean, how’s my other girl?” he shot a glare at Abby, who grinned back at him.

“Hey Uncle Roo,” Charlie beamed at him through the camera. “Hey Abby!”

“Hey Charlie, hey Auntie Nat! Hey Uncle Bob, Charlie told me you figured it out right away!”

Bob nodded once and pushed his glasses up. “You’re one of a kind, Abby. No emulating it.”

“Damn, you figured it out right away?” Rooster whistled through his teeth. “It took me a couple of days to figure it out. You two never thought to teach your girl about American football? Javy thought she got a brain transplant at camp.”

Buttercup and Bob chuckled but Natasha remained suspiciously silent as Charlie filled them in on how life was in England and Abby filled them in on all the Texas goings on.

“…and dad’s engaged to this dreadful woman who wants to go wedding venue shopping on Saturday!” Abby groaned.

“Abby,” Buttercup admonished. “You just met this woman. Give her time to adjust. I’m sure it was quiet something when your father told her that his daughters had switched places.”

“Oh, well, actually…” Abby started.

“Yeah, she didn’t take it that great, Buttercup,” Bradley cut in, giving Abby a little nudge with his elbow. “Remember, kid?”

“Oh…uh…yeah. She didn’t take it that well at all.”

Charlie would blame the emotional day for the fact that her mother didn’t pick up on the strange behaviour behind the screen at all.

“So, give her some time, and she’ll…she’ll come around,” Buttercup gulped slightly and reached for her bottle of water.

“Yeah, I’m sure she will,” Rooster rolled his eyes. “Why don’t y’all come to Texas for the weekend? We’re stayin’ at some fancy hotel in Austin for the weekend while Savannah looks around at different venues. She wanted to make it a weekend getaway. But you guys should come so you and Hangman can figure out an arrangement that keeps these two from pulling a Trading Places again.”

Buttercup was chewing on her bottom lip again. “I…I don’t know. It’s supposed to be a wedding related trip. I wouldn’t feel comfortable crashing it.”

“You wouldn’t be crashing it,” Rooster replied. “Jake invited you. He wants to figure out a solution too, before the wedding.”

Buttercup sighed heavily, the breath tinged with sadness. “Yeah…yeah, that makes sense. Bob, can you—”

“I’ll clear my schedule so I can go with you, and I’ll book our flights there,” Bob replied, his phone already in his hand.

Buttercup smiled gratefully. “Natasha—”

“I’ll keep in contact with the old man and make sure we book the right hotel,” Natasha replied, fixing Rooster with a glare that would have paralyzed him if they were in the same time zone.

Buttercup sighed resignedly. “Okay, then. I guess we’ll all see you on Saturday.”

“See you then, Buttercup,” Rooster winked.

“Bye mum! I love you!”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Rooster whipped around as a voice rang out behind them. “Mum? Buttercup? Dude, what the hell is—”

“Gotta go, mum! Bye!” Abby shouted as she slammed the laptop screen down, cutting off the call.

“Well, that wasn’t ominous at all,” Natasha muttered.

Buttercup’s worried face reflected back at her on the darkened screen. “Oh god…what have I gotten myself into?”

Rooster glared at Javy. “Nice going, dipshit.”

“What? Me? Who the hell were you talking to on that call, man? Because I only know one Buttercup and—”

“And what, Uncle Javy?” Abby blinked up at him innocently. “Who is Buttercup?”

Javy gaped at her. “She…uh…she’s, um…”

Rooster rolled his eyes. “Cut the guy some slack, would ya, Abby?”

Abby’s grin widened as Javy’s mouth dropped even further. “Nah…man, there ain’t no way…”

“You didn’t think it was suspicious that Penny wouldn’t quit pesterin’ us both until we got Hangman to agree to send Charlie to camp on that specific day? You don’t think it’s weird that Lovebug treats her like she’s a stranger? You never noticed that your favourite assistant coach knows jack all about football now?”

Javy crouched down in front of her. “You’re not Charlie, are you?” Abby shook her head and Javy’s eyes welled with tears. “C-can I hug you, darlin’?” Abby nodded with a smile, and she was suddenly scooped up into a massive hug. “Oh my god, man…this is unbelievable!”

“What’s unbelievable?”

The three turned to see Jake standing behind them in the doorway of the office, his arms folded across his chest.

“Hey, man,” Rooster greeted. “What’s up?”

“Was just coming to try to find my daughter.”

Abby gulped. She hadn’t really spoken to her father since her blow up at the news of his engagement. The news still weighed heavily on her, but Rooster’s plan would work, she just knew it. Plus, she would get to see her mum soon, and that always made her feel better.

“H-hey, dad.”

Jake’s face softened. “Hey Charlie, I was hoping we could have a chat before dinner. Just you and me.”

Javy opened his mouth and Abby pinched him hard on the shoulder blade, out of view of her father.

“Sure, dad. I think that’s a good idea. Can you put me down, Uncle Javy?” Javy hesitated but Abby begged him with her eyes not to blow this for them, and he conceded.

“Sure…Charlie.”

Abby smiled at him as she went to her father’s side.

“We’ll see y’all at dinner, alright?” Jake nodded at them as he let the office door close behind him.

“Alright, dude, you’re gonna tell me what’s goin’ on right now, or I swear to god, I’m telling Jake why that pair of men’s boxer shorts were hanging outside his window.”

“Relax, Coyote,” Rooster sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk. “You and me are gonna have a lot of fun with Hangman this weekend.”

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floral-force · 1 year

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Fire Up the Engines - oneshot

din djarin x female reader, mechanic!reader (no y/n)

summary: Din Djarin's ship is in need of intense repairs, and he lands in Peli's hangar for help. The witty mechanic assisting Peli with the work might be too enticing and seductive for Din to ignore.

words: 5.9k+

warnings: Explicit, 18+ ONLY; smut (rough sex, fingering, p-in-v), unprotected sex

note: this is filth. plain and simple. have you ever thought about fucking din in his ship? me too--so i wrote a fic. read on ao3 | fic masterlist

Peli shielded her eyes from Tatooine’s blazing twin suns to watch the pre-Empire ship that was landing in her hanger, its engines roaring. She grinned as Din Djarin walked down its lowered ramp with Grogu in the satchel across his chest. He met her where she stood in the shaded tool shed, light bouncing off his armor and onto the curved ceiling.

“Didn’t expect to see you back so soon! But I’d never turn down a chance to see my little buddy!”

Grogu chirped at her and looked up at Din, wiggling around. His helmet tilted back slightly and he sighed, lifting the child out of the satchel and handing him to Peli. He popped his hand on his hip and let the surrogate aunt coo and bounce his strange, adopted child in her arms, the large ears on his wrinkled green head perked up. Din knew Grogu liked visiting Peli—she coddled him almost more than Din did. Aside from that, he could never deny one of the few people he trusted Grogu’s affection.

“I need some repairs,” he stated, watching some of her droids hesitantly pick up toolboxes.

“Already? I just got you this while you were here helping the other guy! Should be as good as—well, not new, but as good as we got it when you were here.”

Din exhaled and crossed his arms. “I had a rough couple of bounties.”

“Pirates?”

“And raiders.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Well, thank the Force you made it here. If it’s really that bad, then I think I need to contact one of my guys.”

“I don—”

She waved a hand and shushed him. “Before you even start, I trust this one. She’s my go-to when I know that only using my droids won’t be enough.”

Din rolled his shoulders back and looked at Grogu, who tilted his head and gurgled. He sighed and simply said, “Fine.”

“Alright!” She smiled, her missing tooth adding to the charisma and brightness that she managed to bring no matter where she went. “I’ll go give her a quick call. Shouldn’t be long.”

Din took a step forward and extended his arms. Grogu’s tiny claws wiggled at Peli as she gently passed him off to Din, telling him she’d be back soon with a snack for him. Din cradled the child in his left arm and turned to face the hangar. His visor settled on a crate on the other side, his boots kicking up tiny puffs of sand as he walked over to it under the suns’ relentless rays. The clan of two was soon hidden again in the shade, Din’s knees cracking as he sat on the crate.

“What do you think, kid?” he asked, running his index finger along one of Grogu’s large, pointed ears.

“Patu,” Grogu chirped, tilting his head in response, his large brown eyes fixed on Din’s beskar helmet.

Din nodded in agreement and tried to ignore the heat of Tatooine even as he sat in the shade. He hoped that Peli’s contact would be over sooner rather than later and would help make short work of the damage his attackers had done before he blasted them to bits.

Din watched her with crossed arms as she inspected the ship with Peli, her brow furrowing when she noticed a dent or carbon scoring. She was constantly taking notes on her holopad, wiping her brow while she wrote and listened to Peli. At one point, she squatted down ten feet in front of where Din stood to point something out to Peli—a couple tubes were exposed, the metal covering completely blown off—and his eyes lingered too long on the wet spots that had already formed on her back before they trailed down further. He had to avert his eyes, turning his head ever so slightly.

After what felt like hours, she walked over to where he stood in the shade with Grogu at his feet, curiously peeking out from behind his calf. She chuckled at the green toddler, wiping her brow as her eyes settled onto his visor.

“So, Mando, you’ve had quite the adventure, huh?” she asked, the corner of her lips quirking up into a smile.

“You could say that.”

“I think the carbon scoring and the busted turbine in one of your engines said it for me,” she teased, looking down at her holopad and leaning on her hip. “Well, it might take until the suns set, but Peli and I can get it done. It’ll set you back, though.”

“I can pay.”

She looked up at him through her lashes and his heart quickened when he noticed her gaze linger on his utility built, grazing slowly back up to his helmet. “I’m sure you can.”

He hesitated, his pulse pounding in his ears as she smiled coyly at him. Din was good for the money—and whatever else she desired from him.

She finally broke her gaze, turning over her shoulder to wave at Peli and give her a thumbs up. Peli nodded and started rounding her droids up and yelling at them to pick up their tools and hustle for her best customer. When she turned back around to face Din, he focused on how soft her lips looked as she flashed him yet another killer smile. He tried his best not to let his eyes get too greedy taking in her figure, but he couldn’t help stop himself from watching a bead of sweat travel down her neck and across the ridge of her collarbone, slipping into her cleavage. A heat rushed throughout his body, and it wasn’t from the brutal midday heat.

“Well, um…I’ll get to it then.” She rubbed the back of her neck and took a step back towards the tool shed. “Shouldn’t be long, Mando. I’ll try not to keep you waiting.”

Din stared at her as she turned and walked away, his attention stolen by the way her long brown cargo pants perfectly outlined her ass.

Grogu’s chirps snapped him out of his trance, and he picked his son up, letting him nestle into the bend of his arm.

“You hungry?” he asked, looking down at his son. “Me too.”

After taking Grogu to a nearby market for a meal and ration restock, he arrived back to the hangar as the suns were setting. The sky was turning a light shade of pink, purple melting into it as dusk approached. He saw Peli’s droids wiping down different parts of his ship with polishing rags, their binary chatter filling the empty evening air.

“Make that hunk’a junk sparkle!” Peli yelled, her hands on her hips.

“Thought you said my ship was in the best condition you’d ever seen for what it was.”

She jumped around in surprise, her unique smile lighting up the hangar as he stepped into it from the entryway. “Mando! You’re back right in time. Droids are polishing her up, and she’s finishing up one last thing with one of the guns.”

Din nodded, feeling Grogu wiggle in the satchel. “Can I set these things down in the hull?” he asked, lifting the bags of rations—and a few special treats Grogu had waved into Din’s basket with his powers—he carried in his hands.

“Go right ahead! But before you do—” Peli ran in front of him and held her hands out. “Lemme have the little womp rat! I gotta show him how to kick butt at cards.”

Din heard Grogu babble up at him, and he sighed, setting the heavy bags down. Those eyes were his biggest weakness. He gently took the satchel off, handing the gurgling bundle off to a very excited Peli. He watched her walk away with a spring her step, responding to Grogu’s chirps with colorful commentary. He shook his head and chuckled under the helmet. Something told him Grogu would leave Tatooine even morespoiled than the last time they’d visited.

He pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp lowered. Din picked the bags up again, his muscles straining with the weight, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle; Tatooine just made every physical task more tiring than it was to begin with. He walked up and into his ship, heading over to the ration crate. Din dropped the bags in with a grunt, then put his hands on his hips, satisfied. After raising the ramp and closing the ship up, he dropped to one knee and sifted through the bags, looking for Grogu’s special treats so he could set them aside.

“You’ve got quite a unique ship, Mando.”

Din immediately drew his blaster, his head snapping up so he could better his aim at the woman in front of him.

“Whoa! It’s me!” she said, throwing her hands up. Her clothes had splotches of dirt and grease on them, the palms of her working gloves dirtied as well. There was a smear of grease on her cheek, and it wrinkled when she smiled at him. The sweat on her brow and under her eyes sent a chill down his spine; it was oddly enticing, highlighting features he hadn’t noticed earlier.

He should know better by now when it came to Peli and trusting people. It only got him into trouble he hadn’t wanted in the first place.

And this mechanic was the epitome of trouble, her seductive smile and enticing body only fueling the growing fire within him.

He squeezed his blaster, the pinch of his glove snapping him back to the present threat. “How did you get in here?” Din asked, his voice darkening.

“I was fixing the gun and had to open the belly up a bit to get to some wires. I ended up over by the privy.” When Din didn’t lower his blaster, she quickly added, “Don’t worry, I didn’t touch anything! You do a good enough job messing her up on your own.”

Din answered her quip with silence. Her smile fell, and she looked down at the floor. He kept his blaster raised only so he could keep her in front of him—he wanted to take in every part of her that he didn’t get to earlier, from her messy hair to her scuffed-up boots. The cargo pants she wore were now stained with dirt and grease, and they hugged her perfectly in the thighs—and he knew from earlier that they made her ass look delicious, too. They were sloppily cuffed over leather lace-up boots, but he paid no mind to them. His mind was focused solely on how fast he could undo the belt cinched around her waist and gain access to the skin hidden under fabric and mesh. The thought alone was enough to send a chill down his spine and make his cock twitch; she was totally clothed and yet his head grew heavy with lust.

Din had to wrench his eyes up and away from the belt; any longer, and he knew his cock would grow visibly hard. The gray sleeveless shirt she wore clung to her body, grease and other random splotches lightly patterning it. His eyes landed on her chest, and he noticed that she was breathing a little heavier than she had been earlier, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm driven by nerves and, maybe, anticipation. The straps of the sleeveless top rested on top of darker ones, which led him to believe that she was wearing some sort of bra; Din made a mental note to take care of that when the time came. He’d been too busy studying the way sweat dripped into her cleavage to have noticed it earlier. Even in the cool hull of the ship, her bare arms and shoulders glistened with sweat. Her gloved hands were trembling so softly that Din wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been imagining them clutching his armor.

Under his scrutiny, she felt her skin tingle. Her heart was starting to speed up, banging against her ribs, pumping her blood full of adrenaline. Underneath the anxiety, though, was a hint of excitement. Something about the void of the visor sucked her right in, dropping her into a black pool of desire—desire.

He tilted his helmet up at her, and her eyes caught the movement. He stood and holstered his blaster, and she dropped her hands, a sigh escaping her lips. Din took a step closer, invading her space. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him through her lashes. Din clenched his fists when she bit her bottom lip and looked down at the ground again. He almost wanted her to see his growing erection, wantedher to see that she was close to pushing him past the point of no return.

“You’re a man of few words,” she quietly remarked, her heart fluttering a bit when he tilted his head to the side.

“I’m more of a man of action.”

His smooth voice ran over her like water after a long day, seeping into her bones—but his voice was pure gasoline, lighting her insides on fire instead of quenching her thirst for more. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she gingerly placed a gloved hand on his chest, the metal dividing them. Din didn’t even care that he’d have to polish it and work a little harder to get the grease and grime off it; his thoughts were clouded with her, desire starting to overtake him.

“Wanna show me, Mando?”

Her sultry invitation sent flames through his veins. She yelped when his hands pushed her back into the wall near the ladder to the cockpit; her coy smile up at him and soft nod let him know that she liked it. The force of him pushing her back and pressing her against the cold metal wall added fuel to the growing fire he’d lit within her, and she squirmed when she felt a throb between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip. Din wished he could be the one tugging on it with his teeth, but he’d have to settle with the show she was giving him, her lovely face’s demure expression beginning to melt and reveal the neediness below the surface.

Din used her need to his advantage, crowding into her, slotting his left thigh between her legs. He could hear her soft pants, his helmet close enough that the hot exhales fogged up the beskar. The way her legs shifted to welcome his leg gave her growing arousal away. He chuckled, and she immediately perked up, her eyes opening and centering back on his visor. Her pupils were blown, her lips gently parted, sweat gathering again on her forehead because of the Mandalorian pressing up against her. Din drank it all in, his lips parted underneath his helmet, eyes heavy with want.

She whined and looked up when his hands trailed slowly down from her shoulders to her chest, the rough leather dragging across the sensitive, sticky skin.

“Do you want more?”

Her eyes dropped back to his visor. She nodded enthusiastically, whispering yes please touch me more as Din traced a finger back up to her shoulder, his cock aching in response to her plea. When he took a small step back, she whimpered, already feeling an ache at the loss of his thigh and the pressure from his armor.

She kept her eyes on his helmet, watching it turn to the left as he toyed with the straps on her shoulder, pulling them up with two fingers.

“Take these—” He released the straps, the snap against her skin making her whine, “—Off.”

He took his hands off her, taking a few more steps back so he could take all of her in. He dropped a hand over the bulge in his pants and roughly palmed it through his pants as she lifted the dirty shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. Din choked and his cock throbbed when she pulled her banded bra off, finally revealing her tits. He noticed her nipples pebble almost immediately, accenting the soft skin she’d been hiding from him all this time.

“Fuck,” he growled, closing the short distance between them with heavy, needy steps.

She giggled when he lifted her off her feet, moving her back to the wall, closer to the ladder this time. He set her down with a low groan that sent electric shocks throughout her body and heat to her cheeks. She closed her eyes, her mind racing as much as her heart was. She wanted to run her hands across his body, finger the uncovered parts of him, work him and unravel him as much as he was doing it to her.

She was also perfectly happy to let the Mandalorian grip her skin hard and tight, make her hiss when he pinched her nipples between gloved fingers, and to let him press into her, the cold metal of his armor leaving shallow indents in her skin. His roughness enticed her and made her burn even more, the heat starting to pool in her core, more dripping down with every squeeze of her ass and heady groan that escaped his lips.

The clang of metal hitting metal disrupted her thoughts of peeling the armor off piece by piece, and she looked down to see the Mandalorian on his knees, his helmet fixed on her face. When his hands came to grip her shins, she closed her eyes and let the back of her head hit the wall, arousal pooling low in her core and dampening her panties. She giggled when one of his hands squeezed her thigh, almost missing the low groan that slipped out of him.

“So fucking sexy,” he purred, his hands now running up and down her legs, the pads of his fingers digging in and applying pressure.

Her knees trembled, and the whine that slipped out of her mouth made him pause for a moment. Din Djarin wasn’t normally greedy, but in this moment, he wanted to own every part of her. Every part of her demanded attention, and he was determined to be the only one who could tame and satiate her. He wanted to be the one she thought of when she touched herself, the one she compared every other person to, the one who drove her crazy with lust.

Din knew exactly where to strike next to make his purpose clear.

He looked up at her, the skin of her torso glistening with sweat, her breasts tempting him and teasing him. Din edged his right hand down to her knee, and his left resumed stroking up and down. With no ceremony or grace, he looped his arm under her left leg and lifted it, adjusting his position and her leg so her knee came to rest on his shoulder, the cool metal of his pauldron slowly seeping through the fabric of her pants. She gasped and her hands clutched the wall, her left landing on a rung of the ladder. Din smiled under his helmet at the sight of her, half naked and unconsciously rocking her hips towards his helmet.

He cupped his left hand against her hidden sex, and she whined, pressing down for some sort of release. His quiet laughter at her neediness only made her cunt ache more, his roughness only turning her on more.

“Please, touch me,” she panted, her knuckles white and skin sensitive.

“I already am.” When she groaned at his snarky answer, he abruptly pressed the palm of his hand against her with more pressure, whisking the irritation right out of her mind. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Her head felt light as he began to slowly rub his hand back and forth, the broad pressure and sensation making her wetter by the second. She managed to collect herself and mumble between pants and whimpers, “Please…Please touch my…touch my pussy.”

“Good girl.”

The purred praise made her body shake and the whine that she released was music to Din’s ears. Under the helmet, a devilish grin spread across his face as he lowered her leg off his shoulder and then quickly undid her belt, throwing it to the side, the tools attached to it clattering on the metal ground. All she could do was watch him stand up and yank her pants and underwear down to her boots. She hissed when cold air hit her hot skin, her naked body on display to the Mandalorian. Leather traced down her legs as she drew her arms back in to her body. She tore her gloves off and let her bare hands find their way to her tits, massaging them and slipping over the sweat that had gathered on her skin.

“Wish I could just cut these in two,” she heard him growl before forcing her to spread her legs as much as she could.

“Gotta make it challenging somehow,” she teased.

He nodded, his left arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her off the wall a bit. His left leg came to rest between hers, and she whimpered when he pushed against her right leg, forcing her to stay spread open for him. Din’s free hand came to rest on her cheek before pushing her hands out of the way so he could roughly massage her tits, the force of it all making her melt. He could smell her—sweat, grease, lust—as he bent his neck and nudged his helmet against her head, pleased when her hands gripped his wrist, begging him to explore her further.

He straightened up, his helmet once again focused on her, her wide eyes and sweaty brow giving him a primal satisfaction that rushed to his cock. He saw her eyes dart to the obvious bulge, and as her hands started to make a dive for it, he clicked his tongue and snatched her wrists in his hand.

“Not yet,” he said in response to her whine. “Keep massaging those pretty tits of yours for me, baby.”

She nodded, immediately doing as told. When he interrupted her, taking one of her hands in his, she gave him a quizzical look, catching her breath. “Something wrong?”

“Take the glove off for me, pretty girl.”

Her plush lips spread into an eager smile, and she quickly yanked his glove off. Before he could work any lower, she looked right into his visor and gripped his wrist, bringing his index and middle fingers to her lips. Din sharply inhaled when she took them into her mouth, her tongue swirling around them, carving patterns only she knew into his skin. His cock was heavy and ready, and Din had to bite the inside of his cheek so he didn’t just fuck her right where she stood. Her pretty lips wrapped around his fingers, and she moaned at the salty taste of his skin, knowing exactly where his fingers were going next when she took them out of her mouth with a pop.

Din pulled his hand out of her weak grip, reaching between her legs and sliding between her folds. He focused on her the entire time, his helmet never focused on anything other than her face, perspiration sitting at her hairline. Noticing hers made him suddenly feel the sweat dripping down his neck and temples, physical proof of the heat from his motion and of the fire within him.

When his fingers graced over her clit, she jumped and hissed, arching and bucking into him. He pushed further back, and when his fingers grazed over her slit, a loud whine filled the hull, a moan trailing after it when he slipped a digit into her. He exhaled a gentle laugh at her neediness as he listened to her begs for more, more fill the air. He could feel her walls already starting to tighten, and he couldn’t deny her any longer.

Din slowly pulled his finger out of her slick cunt, trailing it back up and adding a second to rub slow circles on the sensitive bud. She keened and pressed her hands against his shoulders at his achingly slow touch, her fingers clutching at his pauldrons. Heat ran through her, sweat dripping down her forehead and starting to collect behind her knees as she chased her climax. The Mandalorian’s fingers worked her clit perfectly, her achingly empty cunt starting to tighten and flutter. He sensed her growing desperation and traced his fingers back to her slit, the pads of them circling and dragging the slick that leaked out of her around her entrance. She whined even louder, moaning and begging and bucking her hips forward.

“You’ve been so good for me,” Din purred, his head light. “And you know what good girls get?”

She opened her eyes and shook her head.

“They get to come for me.”

As Din spoke, he slid two thick fingers inside of her, her gasp making him grin in satisfaction. Her eyes went wide, and then she squeezed them shut, her entire body tensing up. Din pumped his fingers, his left hand splaying across her back to hold her steady and support her as she reached her peak. Her mouth fell open, her eyelids fluttering. He curled his fingers and stroked back and forth in a certain spot he’d noticed had been making her cry out, focusing all his attention there. Din was rewarded with a strangled cry and felt her tighten around him, even her legs getting tense.

“Look at me.”

Din’s command broke through her ecstasy. Her eyes opened and focused on him. A bead of sweat trailed down her neck—he wished he could lick it up with his tongue.

“Don’t hold back,” Din grunted, “Be a good girl and come for me.”

She kept her eyes open as her jaw dropped, a silent scream escaping her open mouth as her climax set her on fire. Her legs shook and Din licked his lips as her cunt pulsed and contracted around his fingers, dragging his fingers against that spot one last time before pulling them out. Her chest heaved up and down, waves of pleasure and flames of want still clashing within her. She whined at the empty feeling, then yelped in surprise when he slid his fingers into her mouth, her orgasm still coating them.

“Taste yourself.” Din’s helmet tilted up slightly as he slid them into her mouth all the way to the knuckle. She stared at him as her tongue went to work, eagerly licking his fingers clean. Her head was heavy with pleasure, and she worked fast so her empty cunt could be filled again.

“Good fucking girl,” Din growled. He slid his fingers out of her mouth and placed his hand on her waist. He took a moment to take in her sweaty skin, his eyes scanning her again, plotting his next move.

He wanted that tongue on his cock, but he’d tortured himself enough.

From the look in her eyes, Din could tell she knew it too.

Under the helmet, he spotted two crates stacked on top of each other to his left. His eyes went back to her, and before she had time to process what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. She squealed, stumbling when he roughly set her down. After she caught her balance, he pushed her lower back down, forcing her to bend over. The slight arch of her back skillfully presented the thighs and ass she’d kept hidden under the cargo pants; the seductive sight of it caused Din to already start to unravel.

“How’s the view?”

Her cheeky question made him laugh as he quickly undid his belt and dropped his pants enough for his cock to spring out, the tip leaking sticky beads of fluid. He stroked himself, giving her plump ass a smack with his gloved hand and enjoying the way it moved. She recoiled and hissed at the sting, but it sent a jolt of electricity through her, the fire in her core sparked and growing again.

“I love it,” he said, accenting his statement with another spank.

He pressed the fat head of his cock against her slit, soaking it in her arousal and groaning at how wet she still was. Din guided his cock up and down through her folds with his bare hand, biting his lip when he felt her juices start to coat his fingers. Slowly, he started to rock his hips into her, his restrained moans joining her shameless begging as his cock glided back and forth from her slick entrance to her clit and back again at a faster pace. He placed his hands on her hips and massaged the sensitive skin, enjoying the warmth of it. It was torture for both, flames engulfing them and demanding attention. She gasped and mewled—Mando, Mando, fuck—and pressed her ass back as much as she could just to feel more of him. The desire to be full of him was overriding everything else within her, and Din had teased himself long enough.

“Fuck, I can’t take it anymore,” he growled, his fingers digging into her flesh.

He slid into her cunt, her walls still slick from the orgasm he pulled out of her. Her moan echoed in the hull and bounced around in his helmet, a sound he never wanted to forget. A moan slipped from Din’s mouth after he buried himself to the hilt inside of her, a strangled groan and growl from deep in his throat.

“Stars, you fill me up so fucking good,” she mewled, a sharp thrust eliciting a high-pitched whimper immediately after.

Din’s brow furrowed and sweat dripped down his temples. He was already close to spilling, his cock throbbing as he fucked her, his speed increasing after her praise. The obscene sound of skin slapping skin reverberated in the hull, the canvas that they painted with their moans and whines. Her ass bounced beautifully with every thrust, and the way his greedy gloved hand massaged the meaty flesh sent jolts of pleasure throughout her body.

She had never been fucked like this—so primal, rough, fast—and it made her cunt clamp around him again. When he placed his bare hand on the small of her back and pushed down, pressing her into the crate, she gasped, her fingers flexing out for stability. The new angle allowed his cock to drive into her, filling her to the brim even more than he already had. She whined and her cries grew louder, finally turning her head to try to see the Mandalorian. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his helmet was tilted back, his groans so loud that they overpowered the vocoder in his helmet.

He was raw and burning and harsh. The way he fucked her without mercy made her eyes roll back into her head; he impaled her on his length and she loved it. Every thrust was pushing her closer to the edge again, and she made sure he knew it. She twisted her arm to find the wrist on her back and gripped it. The contact caused his hips to stutter briefly as she started to meet his thrusts with needy movements of her own, pushing back with her ass to chase her growing orgasm. He was lavishing her with aggressive attention, slamming into her just to prove his point, driving her further into pleasure. Her mouth fell open, eyebrows scrunching together as his cock tore through her and shocked her entire body.

“Please don’t stop—Mando—fuck, I-I’m so fucking close, I’m right fucking there,” she whined, moaning Mando over and over, a prayer that flooded his entire body with fire, shooting electricity into his veins.

She moaned and her walls fluttered around him, the movement making his head light and his breath quicken. He fucked into her faster, harder, relentlessly so he could follow with her. Din’s grip on her tightened as his thrusts became erratic. She was already committing this to memory—his sharp thrusts, the modulated groans and growls, the full feeling in her core—just so she could pleasure herself to it again.

There was only one piece missing—one thing that would send her toppling over the edge. She forced her lips to close again, willing her muscles to work so she could speak coherently.

“Breed me,” she groaned, twisting to look at him with drool dripping down her chin.

The sight alone nearly tipped Din over the edge, but he held back just to fuck her a few moments more. He wanted to selfishly relish in the way he’d made her look, all messy and subdued. Tamed. And now, she wanted to be bred, claimed.

She had pushed him to the edge, made his cock throb against her walls. Din gasped and grunted as he kept fucking her, knowing he couldn’t deny himself much longer.

“I wanna be fucking leaking after this,” she growled, gritting her teeth. “Breed me, Mando.”

Din threw his head back at her demand, screwing his eyes shut as he felt himself tip over the edge. She growled when he yanked his hand out of her grasp to grip her hip, slamming her back onto his cock. Their animalistic grunts and moans reached a crescendo as Din felt her cunt clench around him right as he erupted, his cock entirely sheathed inside of her. Din groaned with every pulse of his cock, the tight grip he had on her hips slowly loosening. She was gasping, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm.

Din pulled out with a hiss, and he spread her cheeks with his hands, stepping back and tilting his head. His seed was already spilling out of her hole, and she gasped when he gently fingered it back inside of her.

“Can’t waste a single drop of this,” he murmured, licking his lips.

Her small laugh was muffled. He stepped back and gingerly sheathed his cock as she slowly stood up on shaking legs.

“Your ship is a real—ah—piece of work,” she said as she tugged her pants back on, using too much force and irritating her still-sensitive cunt.

“You may have mentioned that,” Din replied.

Din watched as she walked over to her discarded shirt and bra, smiling to himself when he noticed how her gait was a little more awkward than it had been before he bent her over and fucked her senseless. The proof of it was on his fingers, but he destroyed the sweet evidence with a quick wipe of a cloth lying in his rack. The hole she’d climbed out of was nearby, her tools forgotten about. He looked at it, then at her. Sweat glistened on her chest and forehead, the smear of grease on her cheek had disappeared—smudged off on the crate as he fucked her, most likely.

She shot him a shy smile and turned around to pick up her tool belt, facing him again as she strapped it back on. Her work gloves lay near the ladder, and she bent over to grab them. His gaze made her skin feel hot and nervous, but excited. Her body was already begging for more, the fire still raging despite the water thrown on it.

Her fingers toyed with the gloves, and she tapped the toe of one scuffed boot into the metal floor. Her eyes were focused on the floor, teeth worrying her bottom lip. She slowly looked back up at the Mandalorian, trying to push back thoughts of their animalistic sex and the dull throbbing of her cunt.

“Maybe you could use a mechanic,” she shrugged, a playful smile teasing across her lips.

“Yeah,” Din nodded. “I think I could.”

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starogeorgina · 3 months

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𝐑𝐮𝐧

Paring: Joel Miller × reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions SA, violence, vomit

1.03

“D’ya hear me?”

The sun was beating down, making all three of you sweat like pigs. You lick at your dry lips before responding, “No, I didn’t hear you.”

“It doesn’t matter; it wasn’t important.” Joel straightens up his posture and looks down at you, worried. You’d been silently sitting by the side of the road for some time, arms clutching at your knees. He offers you his hand and says, “We're moving out.”

Automatically, you push up from the ground and wipe the dirt and sand off your trousers. It’s not until you do so that you realize Joel’s hand is still outstretched. Joel had been struggling with knowing how to comfort you and Ellie; for you, the slightest touch could bring the feeling of your throat being squeezed and your arms and legs being pinned back. And Ellie had lost some of her light due to the trauma she had been through.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Don’t be,” he says quietly. Joel glances back at Ellie, who is sitting on the back of a truck, swinging her feet back and forth. “I’m worried about you, both of you.”

“I’m fine.”

He sighs. “Look, you don’t need to tell me what happened, but I’m always here if you ever decide you want to.”

You did want to tell him, but you were afraid you’d break if you said the things those men tried to do to you out loud.

Joel picks your backpack up off the ground and shakes it off before handing it to you. “Come on, let’s go.”

—

Cautiously, you follow closely behind Joel as he leads you and Ellie into another run-down building covered with rumbles. The hospital you were looking for wasn’t too much further away, and the idea was to get to higher ground to see what direction was best to go in.

“It looks as if some kind of construction work started here before the world went to hell.” You stare up at a ledge leading to the next floor. “If one of us goes up, they can pass the ladder down.”

“Ellie, I’ll give you a boost.”

When Ellie doesn’t respond, you go over to her and say, “Hey, are you alright?”

She says nothing but continues to flip the blank pages of a book. The paper had changed color due to elements around it, making it change to an almost skin-like color. Imagine the things you saw while being held captive flooding your minds. You quickly pull your hair out of your face and vomit.

“Oh shit.”

“Ellie, go over to Joel.”

She remains standing beside you while Joel watches from a safe distance. People getting too close while you felt like this only made things worse.

“Go, now,” you say sternly, not wanting her to see you like this.

“Okay, bossy boots.”

The hope that Ellie didn’t see what you saw when you looked at the paper made you feel a little better. Tears spring to your eyes while you take deep breaths, trying to stop yourself from vomiting again. You stay like this until you hear a loud clattering noise from behind you and turn to see the ladder landing on the ground beside Joel.

“God damn it, Ellie!” He picks the ladder up and says, “Shit.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know; she dropped the ladder and ran off.”

You practically snatch the ladders, throw them into place, and start climbing them without checking if they are secure. When it wobbles, Joel grips either side of the ladder or holds it in place and says, “It's fine, I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you; you’re safe.”

You finish climbing up. “Ellie, stay there!”

“Come on, you gotta see this.”

You both take after her; being faster than Joel, you reach where Ellie ran first and freeze on the spot. “Oh, my god,” you smile. “Oh my god, I never thought I’d see one in the wild.”

“It’s so cool.”

You didn’t know what was more beautiful: seeing a giraffe in the wild or the way Ellie’s eyes lit up at seeing one for the first time.

“What the—” Joel stops running and stands beside you.

You look down between you and briefly flinch when your hands brush together, but Joel seems oblivious. He slowly steps forward, breaks off a few branches covered in green leaves, and hands them to Ellie so she can feed the giraffe.

The giggle that she lets out causes tears of happiness to fall from your eyes. You had convinced yourself that Ellie was just as broken as you were, but she wasn’t. Seeing her happy and laughing reminded you that everything you did was worth it to save her.

When the giraffe finishes eating, it starts to walk off in a different direction, out of sight. Excitedly, Ellie starts to follow it along the roof of the building. “Was she going? Come on.”

Joel offers you his hand, but this time with a small smile on his face. “It’s okay if you say no, but I promise in time... You’ll heal, never fully, but things do get better.”

“You know better than to say shit like that.” Your eyes gloss over, but you managed to hold the tears back. “We better keep an eye on the kid; otherwise, she might decide to just stay here instead.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“That’s for her to decide, not us.”

—

The view from where you stood now was amazing; there were multiple animals, including a family of giraffes, living in an area that seemed to have been affected. The animals had healthy green grass to graze on, which itself was breathtaking. You remain silent while observing the beautiful view while Joel tries to have a serious conversation with Ellie.

“Look, I don’t know exactly where this hospital is,” he starts.

“Yeah, we’ll find it.”

“Sure. It’s just... maybe there’s nothin bad out there, but so far there’s always been something bad out there.”

Ellie shrugs. “We’re still here, though.”

“I know. I’m only saying there's a risk.”

After watching Joel struggle to ask what he wanted to ask for a few moments, you insert yourself into the conversation and say, “El, we can just turn around and go back to Tommy’s. You don’t owe the fireflies anything; we don’t need to do this if you don’t want to.”

“After everything we’ve done and everything we’ve been through, turning back now would mean it was all for nothing.” Her eyes are solely on Joel. “Once the fireflies have what they want, we can go wherever you want. Tommy’s, a sheep ranch, the moon. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

—

You make it down the opposite side of the building, back out onto the street without incident, and walk into a deserted medical camp site.

You peek a quick glance into some of the tents, careful not to touch anything but to observe enough to see if there’s anything worth taking left. Since it was a camp run by the army, you doubted it but thought you’d at least try.

Joel kept glancing over to you, so thinking he was wanting you to hurry up, you stop looking and make your way to them while trying to count how many tents there are. You lose count when you reach twelve. Joel sits down on a wall that is hip level with him and starts to tell you and Ellie about his experience in a similar camp after Sarah had died.

“Oh yeah, the guy that shot and missed,” you say, looking down at the ground, not wanting to stare at the scar left behind. You always wanted to know if it was that blast that left him partially deaf, but thought it was far too rude a question to ask.

“It was me. I was the guy who shot and missed.”

You almost gasp at his confession. Even though Joel had endured years of trauma, you were still shocked to learn that he attempted suicide.

“There’s no story. Sarah died, and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn’t scared either; I was ready. I couldn’t have been more ready. WhenI—” his voice starts to shake with raw emotion, something that was unusual for Joel. “When I went to pull the trigger, I flinched. I still don’t know why. Anyway, the reason I’m saying all this—”

Ellie interrupts him. “I know why you’re telling us this.”

“Yeah, I reckon you do.”

“So time heals all wounds, I guess.”

“It wasn’t time that did it,” he says.

The fatherly love that kept Joel fighting at the start of the apocalypse was lost the day Sarah died, but his mission to ship ‘cargo’ for the fireflies reignited that same love, but this time it was for Ellie. His love for her healed him.

To lighten the mood when you start walking again. Joel says, “You know what I’m in the mood for? Shitty puns.”

Delighted that she can read more of the puns from the book she found, Ellie happily retrieves it from her backpack. You smile while listening to them go back and forth over the terrible puns.

Hearing a metallic clanging noise coming from behind, you turn back, except to see a bird or different animal, and are shocked to see a man dressed in camouflage pointing his gun in your direction. Before you can say anything, Joel grabs you and Ellie and tries to shield you from the smoke.

Seconds later, everything goes back.

—

“Did Joel do this to you?”

“Fuck you.”

Marlene tilts her head and gives you a sympathetic look. Without so many layers of clothing on, the cuts and bruises covering your body were much easier to see. She goes to inspect one of the larger cuts on your bare arm, but you snatch your arms back and shuffle further back in the hospital bed until your back hits the wall. You had no memory of being brought inside, but it doesn’t bode well that the three of you had been split up.

“I never noticed these types of injuries on Ellie.” She crouches down to be level with you. “What happened? You get on Miller's bad side?”

If it wasn’t for fabric bounding your hands together, you would have swung for her. You grit your teeth. “Joel would never hurt me.”

“Are you sure about that?” She asks in a condescending tone.

“He risked his life saving me and Ellie. I’m fucking sure of it.”

“Good,” she smiles and stands again. “That means you’ll be useful to us after all.”

—

One of the men grabs you by the arm and roughly drags you out of the cubicle and down a filthy hospital hallway. Splatters of dried blood and dirt covered the floor and walls, but the smell of strong cleaning fluids caused your nose to run. You hear Marlene before you see her; she is telling Joel that Ellie is going to die.

Fucking fireflies, you were a fool for ever trusting them.

When you reach the cubicle Joel’s in, the man digs his foot into the back of your knee cap, causing your leg to buckle, making it easier for him to force you to your knees.

“What’s this?” Joel barks.

“Insurance,” Marlene says. “If you don’t go quietly, then we’ll have no choice but to kill her.”

Your eyes sting with tears when you meet Joel’s dark eyes. He lacked color, like he was about to throw up; he always looked like this when he was ill. You wouldn’t have been mad if he still fought like hell to get to Ellie, even if it meant losing you.

“Walk them out to the highway; leave them there with their packs.” Marlene hands one of the men Ellie’s pocket knives and says, “Give him this. He tries anything—shoot the girl, then shoot him.”

—

Guns pointed at your back, and you were pushed to a stairwell. You weren’t allowed to speak to anyone until you were at the highway, but all you needed was one look from Joel to know what he was planning.

When one of the men pushes your back to get you to move faster, you use it to your advantage and let out a small cry, “Don’t touch me.”

Rolling his eyes, he pushes again.

You freeze on the steps. “Stop fucking touching me!”

With the men momentarily distracted by your yelling, Joel takes the opportunity, hits the man closest to him, and takes his gun, then shoots him and the man beside you in the head. He takes the weapons from their bodies, including Ellie’s knife, and when he reaches you, he cups your face.

“There’s only a few bullets left; don’t shoot unless necessary,” he says, putting a gun in your free hand. “Stay close behind me, and soon as we find Ellie, you grab her and run.”

Joel kills multiple people without hesitation by either shooting or stabbing them. You never had the stomach for violence, but it was killed or be killed. All the fireflies and soldiers wouldn’t think twice before putting a bullet between your eyes.

When you reach the pediatric surgery unit, you start to speed up, but Joel holds you back, keeping you behind him. “Stay close,” he whispers. “Whatever happens next, Ellie is the priority; even if I fall, you keep going. You run and don’t look back.”

You both crouch down to walk underneath frosted windows and speak in a hushed voice. “Joel… Uh, you and Ellie are the best things that have happened to me in a long time.”

His lips are parted slightly when he turns back to look at you. “I know, and Ellie wasn’t the only one who healed me.”

You’re silent until you find Ellie knocked out on a hospital bed. She and her nurses and doctor surround her just as they are about to start surgery.

Joel pushes the door open, “unhooking her.”

The surgeon picks up a blade, and Joel shoots him in the head.

You repeat his words, “Unhook her.”

The nurses unhook her, and on Joel’s order, turn to face the wall. You pick Ellie up and are surprised by how weightless she feels.

—

You manage to make it to the elevator and to the underground parking garage. Joel points out a vehicle that still works. “Go, go, go.”

Just as you approach it, Marlene appears and aims her gun at Joel. “You can’t keep her safe forever. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she's going to grow up, Joel. And then you’ll die, and she’ll leave. Then what?”

You slowly reach for your gun, which is hidden by Ellie’s oversized hospital gown hanging down, and click the safety off.

“How long till she’s torn apart by being infected or murdered by raiders? Because she lives in a broken world that you could have saved.”

“Maybe.” His voice is cold. “But it isn’t for you to decide.”

“Or you. What would she decide?”

“She’s just a girl,” you say. “You can’t kill a child and say it’s in the name of science.”

“Would Ellie see it that way? I think you both know if she knew all the facts, Ellie would volunteer to sacrifice herself for the greater good.”

You kiss Ellie on the forehead and mumble, “I’m sorry.”

Joel’s eyes widen when you move quickly, raising your gun and pulling the trigger. When Marlene falls to the ground, you walk away, and Ellie is in the backseat of the vehicle.

—

“It’s alright, you’re with us; take it slow,” Joel says when Ellie starts to wake up. “The drugs are still wearing off.”

Her voice is groggy as she struggles to fully wake up. “I was with the fireflies, and then... what drugs?”

“They were running some tests on you—ones that they needed you asleep for,” you say quickly.

“They did tests on others as well,” Joel lies. “It turns out there’s a whole lot more like you. People who are immune. There are dozens of them. And the doctors couldn’t make any of it work. They’ve actually stopped looking for a cure.”

You watched Ellie’s face in the reflection of the mirror and could tell she didn’t believe anything she was hearing. You and Joel had already discussed that telling her the truth wasn’t a good idea. It was better to lie than for Ellie to know all those people died to save her.

A parent's love knows no bounds.

“Where are my clothes?” She asks, confused, why she’s still in a hospital gown.

“The hospital was overrun by raiders; we didn’t have time to find your clothes or my jacket.” You gulp down, “Joel only just managed to get us out in time.”

“Where people hurt?”

“Yes,” he says bluntly.

“What about Marlene?”

When neither of you answer, Ellie turns to face the other way, curling into herself while trying to fall back asleep.

—

After checking the bathroom of what was a functional gas station, it was clear that you should wait outside with Joel while Ellie gets changed into clothes that you found for her.

You lean back against the car door. “I can feel you staring.”

“I was going to say you look cold, but you’ll just tell me you’re not.”

“My arms aren’t cold, just sore,” you admit. The flesh of your arms is decorated by bruises in different stages of healing.

“I found these,” he says, holding up a brown leather jacket and a red zip-up jumper. “Just in case you ever start to feel cold.”

You take the jacket from him and say, “Thank you; it will at least hide these. I feel bad that Ellie can see them; it’s just a constant reminder for her.”

“And you,” he says softly. “I don’t know what happened inside that building, but from what Ellie told me... It won’t be easy for either of you to forget.”

You zip the jacket up, enjoying the comfort and secureness you felt from your arms now being covered. You sigh, “The first man I killed in that place was called James. He told me I was lucky, chosen that instead of killing me, they would take turns trying to get me pregnant, and that’s what they did with most women they took in.”

Maybe it was the fact that Joel made you feel safe, or everything that happened with Ellie and the fireflies, but you no longer felt terrified to talk about what happened.

“What did they do with the others?” He asks.

You chew on your bottom lips before answering, “Kill them, then eat them.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“No kidding,” you finally meet his gaze. There were no traces of judgment in his eyes, only compassion. “Three men came into the room. They untied me and dragged me on top of a metal table, and two of them pinned me down by my arms. I waited until James had pulled his cock out and kicked him between the legs. They bit one of them, grabbed the knife from the table, and... I just started stabbing and cutting them.”

“We’ve all done some pretty bad shit to survive.”

“I stabbed James in the dick. I thought I'd be every woman they must have raped, and something in me just snapped.”

Joel moves closer to you, but not close enough to make you uncomfortable. “I those men weren’t already dead…”

“I know, but they are. All we can do now is try our best to keep all this shit away from Ellie.”

“When we get to Tommy’s community in Jackson, I want us to live together.”

You chuckle. “I just assumed we would be.”

You’re taken aback by how nervous he looks, his foot kicking at the dirt below. “I mean, live together as a real couple, that sort of thing.”

You smile up at him and say, “I think we can make that work.”

—

Your legs ache, and a five-hour hike up a hill wasn’t easy with the feeling of exhaustion weighing you down.

“You know, Sarah and I used to hike like this all the time,” Joel smiles. “I wouldn’t say it was her favorite thing. She wasn’t a fan of mosquitoes and such, but she was a big climber or scamper. That’s probably the right word. That girl, she’d see a big rock and just go.”

He turns back to face Ellie and says, “She would have liked you. Not to say the two of you are the same. Differently different kids.”

“How so?” She asks.

“Well, she was a lot more, I wanna say girly. And I’m not saying you’re not girly.”

You snort, “El is the exact opposite of girly.”

“I’m really not girly.”

“Yeah, you’re not.” Joel’s arms sway slightly as he relaxes his shoulders. “So that, and Sarah was taller. She had a killer smile, again not saying you don’t. But you know why I think she’d like you?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh. Anyway, I bet you would have liked her back.”

“Yeah, I bet I would’ve.”

You reach the top of the hill, which looks down on your new home. “Not much further now.”

“Hey, wait,” Ellie says. “Fuck. Back in Kansas City, you asked me about the first time I killed someone. When I got bit in the mall, I wasn’t on my own. My best friend was there; she got a bit too. We didn’t know what to do, and she says, ‘We can just wait it out, be all poetic, and just lose our minds together.’ And then she did, and I had to…”

You let Ellie hold your hand as she started to choke up.

“Her name was Riley, and she was the first to die. And then it was Tess. And then Sam.”

“Those deaths aren’t on you; none of them are.”

Joel nods in agreement. “Sometimes things don’t work out the way we hope. You can feel like you’ve come to an end and you don’t know what to do next, but if you just keep going, you’ll find something new to fight for. And maybe that’s not what—”

“Swear to me,” she says, looking between you and Joel with fierceness in her eyes. “Swear to me that everything you said about the fireflies is true.”

Immediately, Joel says, “I swear.”

“It’s true, kid.”

“Okay,” she nods. “Just one more thing, when are you going to cut this longing romance shit out and admit you are together?”

You and Joel share a look and a smile.

#the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller/you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #run

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respectthepetty · 7 months

Note

Nick is a green boy.

Anon, I would categorize Nicolas as un pendejo, but I haven't really put any thought into his color. Not really at least. None. Not even a little. I haven't really thought about colors for Only Friends.

*makes direct eye contact with you because I'm about to get creepy while you stare at the picture of Nick in a green and blue striped shirt*

But if I were to really think about it, which I haven't, not at all, not even a little, Nicolas would a Blue Boy, not a Green Guy.

He just masquerades as a Green Guy since they are chill and laid back

and that's what he wants Boston to believe he is.

Like Top!

Boston is a "No Drama Llama" type guy. Green is cool for him!

Which is why that hypocrite has the green car.

So Nick is trying to be a chill Green Guy like Top.

And it works for a bit when he changes his wardrobe and hairstyle.

But, really, Nick is loyal, sensitive, inspirational, and just a teeny tiny bit sad, you know, like a Blue Boy.

Because when he finds the pictures of Boston and Top in Boston's room, the lighting turns blue.

And now that I think about it, which I haven't, not at all, not even a little, I've never seen a Green Guy and Red Rascal do well together romantically. It's usually a Green Guy paired with a Blue Boy.

So it has to mean Nicolas is really a Blue Boy since Blue Boys usually partner well with Red Rascals, but oh, darn it. Sorry, you're probably confused because I forgot to mention who the hell the Red Rascal is! It's Boston, you know, because he is confident, sexual, aggressive, and vengeful.

Which would make sense because when they first started sleeping together, the colors were Boston's red and Nick's fake green that we saw pop up in the first pictures mixed with his actual blue.

Because the more they slept together and Nick developed feelings, his true blue color started emerging.

So it makes sense that they both show their true color around each other.

Or more like they both see each other's true color.

Even though Boston tries to act like a Green Guy also.

Nicolas sees him for what he really is - a Red Rascal trying to masquerade as a Green Guy too.

Because when no one is watching, Boston is truly a Red Rascal, and Nicolas KNOWS this because Nicolas was allowed to go into Boston's real space, his red photo room.

Yet no matter how much he stepped into Boston's red, he couldn't merge their colors.

So it must have really hurt that just when Boston was possibly coming around to Nick's love (Boston is wearing a blue shirt with a green and blue checker board on the back that states "Make Love Not War" while Nick wears a blue and green striped shirt), just like Nick said to Sand, Boston got the rug ripped right out from underneath him.

I know it sucked since Boston sits at the bar in Nick's blue, drinking and looking at pictures of him and Nick.

So when they see each other at the Halloween party, all pretense is gone. They finally can admit that they see each other, as they stand there wearing their true color, yet standing in front of the other's color.

Which is funny because right after, Boston fucks Atom and turns the reddest he has ever been. The audience probably hadn't even noticed how much Nick calmed Boston's red when he was in the photo room, but I noticed! Scroll back up! Look at the pictures. Wild, right?

And Nick is, once again, trying to play the cool Green Guy with Dan as he wears his green shirt, yet Dan seems more than willing to see Nick's true color and merge.

Because a Blue Boy can't really hide his color, mostly when Nick follows Boston into the bathroom to remind Boston that he sees who Boston really is and loves him because of it, you know, like a Blue Boy would.

So maybe, just maybe, when they are sitting outside together next week, Boston will acknowledge that he, too, sees Nick for who he is. Not the guy wearing a green shirt across from him, but the sensitive Blue Boy who actually likes him for the Red Rascal he is.

But I mean, I haven't really thought about colors at all for this show, so who knows?! Not me!

#only friends #only friends the series #boston x nick #color coded boys in love #the colors mean things #but I have no idea what because I haven't thought them #not at all #not even a little #but it's interesting that without Nick this is the reddest Boston has even been

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deangirlsstuff67 · 1 year

Text

Wanna Touch?

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Nipple and Clit Piercing, dirty talk, fingering, oral mentioned, Unprotected sex, P in V, cum play, creampie, PWP

Summary: Dean's been with his share of women, but none have ever had piercings.

Masterlist | Patreon

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Dean's always been a charmer. Could get into any woman's panties with just a sexy smirk and wink. Y/N was no different, you'd have to be blind not to fall in love with the man.

The boys saved y/n ass on a solo hunt one day years ago and since then the three have been inseparable. Even added Cas and Jack to their little family along the way.

You never allowed yourself to cross the invisible line you placed in the sand. You also highly doubt Dean sees you any other way than a friend. Knowing your luck he sees you like he sees Charlie, a little sister.

Friend zoned by your own doing.

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Dean and you are training yet again this week. It started when you went to the gym this morning sexually frustrated after dreaming of a certain green eyed hunter.

Hoping hitting the bag will relieve some tension.

Wrong.

Dean found you a hour later asking if you wanted to do some training. Knowing it was a bad idea you agreed, at least he would be touching you. Nothing turns you on more than playing with fire.

That's how you found yourself in this situation. Dean has you pinned by your throat against the gym wall. Both of you breathing heavy and staring at one another. His leg is between your thighs while he's hard body is pinning yours.

In your spandex work out shorts you have the perfect feeling against your clit hood piercing. He's rubbing in all the right ways without knowing it.

Your mind is a fog of desire as you drown in the sound of his husky voice. All of a sudden a moan slips from your lips,silencing Dean.

Embarrassed and even more frustrated than before you try to wiggle out of his grasp. That make fires and your eyes roll when you hit your piercing again.

God that feels amazing.

You feel his thigh move slightly drawing another breathy moan from you. "Well shit." Then he does it again.

Move. Moan. Move. Moan. Pretty soon your riding his thigh. Dean brings his lips to yours, taking them in a deep passionate kiss. You bite down on his lower lip causing his hips to jerk into your body. His hard and big.

Soon it's not enough. You need him to touch you. "Dean, please."

"I got you sweetheart." You feel his large hand descend down your body and beneath your waist band. You have done laundry yet, and just prefer to be commando.

"Youre going to kill me y/n." His calloused fingers spread your lower lips wide as he finds your clit. Just when you thought he was going to put you out of your misery, he stills.

Looking at his shocked face you begin to think he's regretting this, "what's wrong?"

"Fuck that's hot." He flicks your piercing, watching pleasure wash over your features. "Never gotten to play with one of these before." He flicks it again, this time smiling as he watches you. "Oh baby, I'm going to have fun with you."

Before you can respond He is knuckle deep with two thick fingers in your dripping core, thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit, purposely hitting the jeweled ring every time.

Moaning in your ear he asks, "you're dripping sweetheart , all this from my hands on your body?"

"Yes Dean."

He quickly works you over. Has you clamping down around his fingers as he works you through it. Pulling his fingers from your shorts he puts them in your mouth and you suck the taste of yourself from them, making him groan.

"Next time baby. Right now I need to be in you."

Releasing his fingers with a 'pop', "god... yes"

He holds you against the wall still, wrapping your legs around his waist before pull his sweats just far enough down to release his huge cock. Looking down you see his perfect cock glistening with pre cum and angry.

Dean captures your lips with his again as he thrusts himself to the hilt in your velvety walls. You cry out with the stretch he causes as your body struggles to take him.

"Son of a bitch y/n, you feel amazing." Then he begins to slowly thrust inside of you.

After a couple minutes you need more, "Dean... more please. I need more."

Dean doesn't have to be asked twice. Smiling before taking your nipple through your sports bra and snapping his hips fast and rough into your tight core.

"God damn even your nipples are pierced." He bites down on one, sending you into the strongest orgasm you've ever experienced. "Going to have to play with these later."

You feel his rhythm faulter as he's release grows closer. Three more hard thrusts and his fingers rubbing your clit into another small orgasm, thanks to his new toy, you feel find splatter your inner walls in warmth as rope after rope of cum fills you.

His cum begins to leak past his cock as he slowly thrusts into your soaked pussy to completely empty himself. Groans and whimpers fill the otherwise silent room.

He's head on your chest you both try to catch your breath for a moment. His now softening cock slips from you, your combined juices begin to leak from your opening.

You feel a low growl vibrates your chest, "fuck, look at you leaking my cum and making a mess." His fingers begin to play with the mess between your legs, "shit that's fucking sexy as sin."

You feel him grow against you leg. Round two it is.

#dean girl #dean winchester #jensen ackles #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x you #deanwinchtser #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester x reader

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meshlasolus · 3 months

Text

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 1

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: The Hunger Games reaping. Canon typical angst. Reader has a speech impediment.

Chapter Summary: Lukas Artanhour is your best friend since childhood who makes the worst decision of his life when he volunteers as tribute for the 71st annual hunger games... Luckily, he won't be going alone, and you didn't even have to volunteer.

Word Count: 2.8k

Don't be detered by the OC in this chapter, he is just someone I made up to make the hunger games more emotional of an event 🙃

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells.

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

It’s cold and windy down by the docks, with the sand getting kicked up from time to time. District Four is one of the most beautiful places in all of Panem, and it’s known, as all districts are, for its main production to the Capitol. Fish.

The people here are wealthier than most in the districts, a close third in rank to both one and two, who reign supremely amongst the favorites. The Hunger Games have obviously played a serious part in all of that. Four being a career district meant that the Capitol goers were far more likely to invest. Careers are the favorites, no matter which district they come from.

The reaping is today, and you don’t want to think about it. It is why you arrive at your work station an hour before you need to be there. You’ve spent years of your life down here by the docks, whether it was waiting for your father’s boat to return, or your friend to bring you the boxes that needed to be loaded onto Capitol trucks. You’re a mover, it’s your job. It doesn’t pay well, because the real money is in fishing, but you wouldn’t dare go out on a boat.

“You’re early,” Lukas nearly spooks you, smiling after watching you jump from surprise. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s r-reaping day. I couldn’t s-sleep.”

He was used to the skip and stutter of your words, un-phasing him as you spoke each one.

“I get it. My mom keeps hounding me about it. Every year I grow taller, stronger, she tells me I could win,” he sat down next to you in the sand, handing you a shell he found on his way here. “Another for the collection.”

“Thanks,” you took it gratefully, placing it in your pocket for safekeeping until later. You journeyed back to his previous words, what he meant by them. “Does your mother w-wish you’d gone through the career program?”

He shrugged, looking out into the sea, his mind just as full of indecent thoughts as yours.

“I’m not sure what she wants. Ever since dad died she’s just been… different.”

“My parents have s-said, if it ever gets t-too bad, you c-can always stay with us.”

He nods, his appreciation shown through a single sideways glance. He knows he has places to go, he knows that there are others that are willing to treat him as a son should be treated, but he wants his own mother to do it. He longs for the woman she once was, and hopes if he can make her proud enough, maybe she will be that way again.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, but he’d been saying that for the past year.

So far, you’d learned she’d been hitting him, been yelling and screaming about how he would never measure up to his father. You never saw these interactions of course, because if you had you may have broken down for him, your friend of eleven years. In school, he was the only one who would talk to you, the only person who ever gave a damn about the girl with the stutter. He defended you when they made fun of you left and right, for nearly everything they thought was wrong with you.

“You s-shouldn’t listen to her,” you shook your head, the waves crashing on the shoreline several yards down. It was the only thing that would remain peaceful about today, when later on two children would be hauled off and expected to fight or die. “She isn’t in her r-right mind anymore.”

“I know that.”

He agrees, he knows. He is well aware that her mind slipped maybe even before her husband died. She had been driving him to the long hours that he’d worked, and eventually made him work out on a ship during a storm. The boat sinking was just fan to the flame of her deteriorating mental state.

He picked up a rock from the sand a few feet over, standing up and tossing it to skip over the water before it began to wash on the shore. He gave you a hand to your feet, pulling you up until you were steady.

“Boat leaves in a few minutes, I’ll see you when we get back,” he said, turning on his heel in the sand. You nodded at him before he walked off, into the working hours of the day. You shouldn’t even be here for another hour. You know that they’ll be gone for two or more and you don’t need that long to prep the boxes. But you can’t sleep.

Lukas returned to the docks with a much better mindset. The water always made him feel serene. He came to land, lugging the giant nets tied together to keep the fish from falling out. Today’s catch was good as any other, and the songs the boys sang on board nearly made him forget everything else.

“Salmon are catching like crazy this time of year,” he muttered, meeting you halfway to help you untie the knots and start packing the boxes. “Thinking I might sneak one home if there’s extra. You probably can, too.”

“I’ll t-try. My pa could use s-something more to eat.”

He weeded through all the skimpy ones, pulling the biggest catches out first and laying them sideways in the boxes, filling the middles with ice before adding another layer. It was the same thing everyday, but he never tired of it. He was content to live the life of a district four fisherman, and he was good at it.

“How’s his arm doing?” He asked, since you’d brought up your father.

He’d broken it in a rigging accident about two months ago, and the slow healing process was not doing your family any favors. You’d been hungry several times, so obviously extreme measures had to be taken. You won’t think about that right now, though.

“Not any better, n-not any worse.” The fish box was nearly packed, but you paused to think for a moment. “Maybe I s-should try and catch. It pays a lot m-more, and we could use the money.”

He grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you to face him.

“You’d be scared to death. If your family needs some money, I can help out. It’s the least I can do when they offer me free lodging,” he half joked, completely serious in all aspects about the help with financial assistance.

“Lodging that y-you’ve never taken.”

“Listen, I’m happy to help if you need me to. Especially with your brother, now,” he mentioned, making you think about the sweet little sleeping face you’d passed by on the way out of your home. Your baby brother, born not a year ago. You hated the idea of him growing up hungry, or having to start work early in his life like you did.

“Well, t-thank you. I’ll think about it.”

He shook his head, seeing as how you quoted him from all the times your family offered him help before.

He waved you off when you finished stacking the prepared boxes onto your slab dolly, tilting it back and beginning to push it towards the truck that pulled in not too long ago. It was a steep climb, up the ramp from the docks and onto the street, but it made you quite strong over the years. That and all the heavy lifting, becoming easier with every twenty by thirty of fish.

Lukas would be taking off early today, as would most of the other boys of age. You would be heading home after loading this shipment as it were. You had to shower, had to clean up your hair and skin and make yourself presentable for the reaping.

You opened the back of the truck, tossing the boxes up one at a time, before climbing into it and stacking them neatly in one of the four corners. You always managed to obtain a single splinter from every shipment loaded, but luckily today’s wasn't too bad, you could probably dig it out with a small pin.

Later in the day, your mother gave you a solemn smile as you walked out the door, having just been readied and dressed in your best clothes. Even in a wealthier district, they still had mended holes in the bottom of your skirt. That’s the sad thing about every district. Even amongst the wealthier ones, there’s still poverty that simply cannot be helped. The Capitol's greed and thirst for luxury, needing every little thing that life has to offer at their beck and call. You can’t even imagine what it’s like in places like eight or twelve. Places where food is not the primary cultivation of the people.

It was light green, your outfit. It had white seashells on the waist of the top, and a few along the edge of the skirt as well. They hadn’t always been there, but you insisted they should be. You didn’t really have much else of a use for all the shells you stole from the sands of the shoreline. You hated wearing the same outfit to this single event every year. You hardly wore it any other time, which made a distaste for it grow every time it came out of your closet.

The way your mother did your hair was simple. A single french braid down the back of your head, tied off with a light green ribbon to match everything else. She watched how it fell a bit looser with every step you took, making your way across the streets and into the city’s center. It’s your last year, and having avoided every year before, you know you should feel a semblance of relief, but you don’t.

Your mother waits for the peacekeeper behind a stand to check your name off a list before she parts with you, hugging you tightly one last time and allowing you to kiss the head of the baby on her hip. He’s primarily the reason you remain so nervous. Even if your name doesn’t get called, his could be, someday.

You line up in an open space, next to the last girl that checked in. She wasn’t in your row last year, you would have remembered her. She was pretty, with blue eyes and dark raven hair. Her skin was tanned like most in four, but had a certain glow about it. She’s too pretty to be reaped, you thought. It didn’t make a difference, though. As you stared head on to the bowl on the stage, centered in front of the girl’s side, you got tense. Your name is in there six times this year. That’s three more than last year, and five more than the year before.

Someone could still volunteer. But the career program had not made mention of producing a female tribute this year. It all depended on the luck of today’s draw. For all you knew, your name would be surpassed by someone else. There were other poverty stricken areas in four besides yours, and it made sense that somebody else could have been hungry enough to outgo you.

You looked around to the boy's side. Lukas was there, and further up in the rows. He must have gotten here quickly after leaving the docks. His face was sullen, and something had changed, but you were unsure of what it was. When he looked around, you almost thought he’d been looking for somebody, but his expression told a far different story.

The last few children in the line were filing in, and the musical fanfare blasted through the speakers by the stage. You were grateful not to be so close to those this year.

His rabble was boring, and nearly the same as it was last time. The anticipation was killing just about every girl and boy in this crowd, knowing there were no careers at the ready this year. It was always easier to rest at night while knowing if your name was called, another courageous youngster would step in to take your place.

“I’m so excited to be back and reaping this year’s tributes for the 71st annual Hunger Games!”

There was a surge of excitement coming from the sidelines, and it was only now that you looked past the blockades to see that there were actual Capitol civilians standing there this year. How nice, some onlookers for when an innocent child gets sent away to their death. Absolutely wonderful. You looked on past them, towards the victors standing close by. They seemed anxious as well, the old woman holding one fist to her mouth while the other clutched her chest. She rocked back and forth on her heels, and had to take a step every few seconds to keep from becoming too restless. The young man was stiff, his arms behind his back and every muscle in his body tense as a board. His eyeline never left the bowls on the stage. They went through this once, too.

When you refocused on the man at the microphone, your heart beat rapidly. He was approaching the boy’s side of the stage.

After a small flourish of his hand, the Capitol rep stuck his hand into the glass, two papers in his hand before he dropped one. The dropped paper’s namesake got immensely lucky this year.

“Harley Miggsen,” he read the paper, but before the peacekeepers had a shot at cornering the poor fourteen year old kid, with his eyes wide in horror, another voice spoke up.

“I volunteer.”

Your head snapped to Lukas, his hand raised high in the air. Murmurs started almost immediately about how everyone thought there weren’t any careers prepared. They spoke softly and wondered if there would be a career for the girls, too. Lukas isn’t a career, why would he do this?

“I… guess we have a volunteer,” the man at the mic clapped his hand, watching the young man getting ushered up the stairs to stand beside him on the stage. “What’s your name, son?”

“Lukas Artanhour, sir.”

“Lukas Artanhour, everyone!” He raised his hand as to signal applause from the capitol guests, and they cheered, happy to see that there was now a potential victor as opposed to that poor boy from before. “Now for the ladies.”

You spared a glance at the victors once more, and they looked even more on edge for this pick than the last. Female victors were obviously more rare in every district, so getting a decent tribute that wouldn’t die right away was probably preferable. You couldn’t imagine all the people they’ve tried and failed to save over the years. The young man won only six years ago, but with no other victors since, that means he’s gone through twelve tributes. All dead, all gone.

Your mind had been momentarily distracted, or at least it had been until the next name came over the loudspeakers.

“Mercedes Blythe.”

It almost didn’t register.

It almost went in one ear and out the other.

It almost was paid no mind or attention…

But that is your name, and you’ve heard it said a million times since you were a baby. Not once did it ever sound like that, though.

You stood still until you realized there were peacekeepers on their way to grab you.

It was slow, the way you took steady steps from your row towards the stage. You couldn’t be rushed even if they tried to make you. You could only look at the ground. You didn’t want to chance looking up and seeing your mother past the blockades. God only knows what she’s thinking and feeling right now. After everything bad happens to a family, the mother of that family should not have to wonder whether her child will live or be killed in an arena.

You finally looked up when you got to the stairs, meeting Lukas’ eyes first, and seeing they were sad and full of pity. You stood beside the Capitol rep on the other side, allowing him to raise your hands together while the tears finally welled up in your eyes. The delay in your mind was the only one to blame for that.

“Ladies and gentlemen, district four’s tributes!”

Tags (open):

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair hunger games #finnick x reader #sam claflin #the hunger games

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gretavangroupie · 11 months

Text

Vigilance (Chapter 11)

Word count: 25.5k

Pairings: Jake x OC, Jake x Reader, Sam x OC

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

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

STRANGE HORIZONS: BRIDGEPORT

ONE DAY BEFORE SHOW

HER POV

You pull the ticket from the parking meter as you make your way into the garage, circling around and around trying to find an empty space to park. It was similar to the thoughts in your mind, circling round and round hoping to find one that didn’t include Jake. You waited for that to happen, but it never did.

It had been two weeks since you left Nashville, and you only returned now because you had to. You wanted nothing more than to stay isolated on the sand of that sunny beach in North Carolina. Nothing but the sound of crashing waves and the feeling of the sun on your skin. A momentary escape from the real world. From your real thoughts. Your real feelings. Or at least, that's what you hoped would happen.

Your eyes caught an empty space, quickly turning into it and sitting in park. You took a deep breath as you grabbed your things from the front seat, and stepped out into the humid Tennessee air. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy, nothing ever was when it came to Jake.

Your trip was supposed to clear your head, not sully it further. Caught in the crossfire of your own mind, you spent each day trying to sort out your thoughts. Find the solution you were looking for. But as the days dwindled down with no answer, you felt as if you left Nashville feeling better than when you returned to it. And now as you walked into the airport completely hazy, you wished you were still there wallowing in your own suffering on that quiet little beach.

You perched yourself on one of the overly stiff couches outside of the ticket counter, pulling your phone from your bag to check the group chat. You hadn’t spoken to any of them since you left. Well, not really anyways. Just one email with their travel information, thoroughly detailed just so that they wouldn’t have any reason to reach out. But they did. Mainly Sam. Even a few messages rolled in from Josh. Those didn’t bother you so much. It was the messages from Jake that got to you. Each one left on read.

The truth is that you didn’t know what to say. You were hurt and confused. You believed the things Josh told you about Jake that day in the green room. Believed him when he said he loved you. That he wanted you. But reality hit you that morning in his hotel room. He had slept with Summer. He didn’t want you. He just wanted someone.

But what right did you have to be upset about that? You were sleeping with Sam. His brother, for god’s sake. That was not lost on you. You had no room to talk. So you didn’t. And now here you sat, counting down the minutes until you would have to face him again.

As the group walked through the sliding doors, you could hear them before you saw them. They stepped into the clearing looking left and right, until finally spotting you. You watched as they rolled their suitcases towards you, Sam breaking into a full out sprint. You braced yourself for the hug you were about to receive as he wrapped his arms around you pulling you up from the couch.

He spun around in a circle before setting you back on your feet, and looking you over. His eyes flashed to the phone in your hand, “Wow, so that thing does work!” he laughed.

“Yeah, I was starting to think you were dead?” Josh joked.

You grabbed your bag from the couch, as you started to lead the group over to the ticketing counter, “What, can a girl not take a little unplugged vacation?” you asked, not planning on letting them in on the real reason you left.

Sam threw his arm around your shoulder as you continued to walk, “I just wish you would have told me. I was starting to worry if you were even going to be here today.” he laughed nervously.

“Of course I’m here Sammy…where else would I be?” you say, knowing deep down, it would be anywhere but here.

—

“You look awfully tan, where did you run off to anyways?” Sam asks, tossing peanuts into his mouth.

You look up from your book, trying to keep yourself occupied so that no one would try to strike up a conversation, which clearly wasn’t working. “North Carolina. Emerald Isle… It sounded…peaceful.” you answered.

“You didn’t text me back…” he trailed off.

“I know. I didn’t text anyone back. I just needed some time. Speaking of time…” you said looking at your phone, “We should be boarding in a few minutes.”

Your knee began to bounce nervously as the time drew nearer, the anxiety setting in about the impending flight.

Sam noticed, placing his hand on your arm. “Just like last time. It will be fine.”

—

You had to admit, one of the perks of the job was flying first class with the rest of the guys. As someone who felt uneasy about flying in the first place, the extra space and free alcohol seemed to help calm those nerves, at least while the plane was still on the ground. As you made your way to your seat you looked for Sam, but as you arrived next to him you saw the wrong seat number. Glancing down at your ticket in confusion, you saw your number was actually the next row back. I thought I was next to Sam, maybe I’m next to Daniel?

You slide into the aisle seat, and pull out your phone. The guys file in behind you, reading the strip of numbers as they find their seats, but when Daniel walks past you, you feel the bile start to rise in your stomach. You begin to mentally flip through the bookings desperately trying to remember who was supposed to sit where. You were absolutely positive you placed yourself next to Sam. This couldn’t be right.

As you try to pull up the booking information on your phone, the gravelly voice that has been playing in your head for weeks rings out clear as day, “Looks like I’m right there.”

Your eyes flash up to meet his, partially hidden by the blue tinted lenses. You stand up, and step out into the aisle, letting him past you but not without being overtaken by the smell of his cologne. He tosses his backpack under the seat in front of him, before buckling his seatbelt and crossing his legs. You slide back into your seat, resituating yourself and turning your face back to your phone.

“Hey Jake…” Sam says, turning around, pushing his face between the openings of the seats.

Jake lifts his head to look at him, raising his eyebrows.

“She’s a nervous flier…” Sam says, causing Jake to turn his attention to you.

You shrug your shoulders in agreement and he nods his head, “It will be over quick.” he says, sending you a gentle smile.

Sam sits back down in his seat, and you lean down to grab your book from your bag, rustling around in the overly full abyss until your fingers find the dog-eared pages.

The flight attendant greets the two of you taking your drink orders and returning immediately with the beverages. As you sip on your tequila soda, Jake follows suit taking small sips of his Jack and Coke. “These should help, no?” he asks.

You glance up at him and you can tell that there is a sense of nervousness in his question, almost as if he was afraid to speak to you.

You swallow quickly, “Maybe. I–I hope so.” you answer, taking in the sight of him in what you’ve come to know is his favorite black button up. Made of soft cotton and broken in just right. A staple from his slim collection, paired with a pair of worn-in jeans, rolled at the ankles as his legs sit crossed comfortably in front of him.

He takes you in just the same, admiring the glow of your sunkissed skin, further enhancing the small sprinkle of freckles on your arms, only visible during the warm summer months. He pries his eyes away from you so as not to stare, but you find yourself wishing for his gaze to return. Missing the feeling of his eyes on you.

You continue to sip at your drink, hoping the alcohol would work faster in aiding your fears but as the attendants ended their safety demonstration you knew your time was almost up. Throwing back the rest of the drink, you sat the empty cup in the tiny cup holder in front of you, wishing it would somehow magically refill in the next ten seconds.

The plane began to taxi the runway as your knee started to bounce nervously. You ran your sweaty palms over the tops of your bare legs, in an attempt to rid yourself of some of your nervous energy. Suddenly the plane began to accelerate, tearing down the runway rapidly moving almost as quickly as your heart rate. Your hands gripped the arm rests as the negative G’s began to pull you backwards.

Squeezing your eyes tightly shut you felt the plane lifting off the ground. But the other thing you felt was the warm, soft hand that came to rest on your bouncing knee, instantly calming the action beneath it. Opening your eyes at the contact you were taken aback. The two of you had hardly spoken two words to each other, but for some reason this was different. This wasn’t him making a move on you. No, this was Jake doing what he did best. Providing the calm energy that flowed through his veins to someone who needed it.

You could feel it, transferring from his skin to yours, feeling your body physically relax at his gentle touch. His hand rested on the top of your bare thigh, burning into your skin like scorching flames. The fire traveling through your leg and up into your chest, weaving paths through your body until it completely consumed you.

The weight of his hand was sure and steady as it rested there, a place he hadn’t touched in years, but what only felt like minutes. As the plane continued to gain altitude his hand remained, waiting there until he felt it was safe to remove it. Part of you hoping he never did.

You could feel his fingers as they sunk into the soft flesh of your thigh, his calloused fingertips gliding up and down just barely noticeable unless you were watching. Which you were. You could hardly peel your eyes away from it. When the plane hit a tiny bit of turbulence on the ascent you found your hand flying down to lay on top of his, grasping for something solid. Something safe.

His head snapped to look at you, your eyes flicking up to his, full of panic and never breaking contact until the plane slowly began to level out at the final cruising altitude. You swallowed nervously, releasing your hand from his. His index finger raising to meet your palm as you pulled your hand away. Such a simple action sending a twist into your stomach and a chill down your spine.

Then suddenly his hand was gone. The warmth from where it once sat now met with the cool cabin air. You were sure if you looked down you would see a fiery red print of his hand left emblazoned on your skin, but as your eyes glanced down you saw nothing. No mark, no sign, no trace that it ever happened. However, you could still feel it there, almost as if it never really left.

But that was Jake. Leaving his invisible mark on you. One you could never see but would always feel. No matter how hard you tried not to. That’s how you knew this wasn’t really over. Not even close.

—

You catch him out of the corner of your eye, peeking over the pages of his book to grab a glimpse of you. His book, seemingly far less interesting than the thought of you sitting next to him on this flight. You smile to yourself each time you see him do it, wondering what he must be thinking as his eyes trail up and over the pages.

You bury your nose in your own book, hoping to immerse yourself in the pages in front of you, momentarily taking you out of your own reality. At least that's how you felt when you started it. Now, you weren’t quite sure you wanted to be anywhere other than right here. It was stupid of you, you thought. Your heart flip flopping on how it felt about him every other minute. You loved him, yes, but that didn’t necessarily mean you liked him right now. How simple was it for him to change that thought with just the touch of his hand? Which brought you circling back to your argument of why it even mattered to you that he slept with Summer, since you two had given each other no indication of your feelings for each other, or if they even really existed.

In a frustrated huff you closed your book and set it on your lap, rubbing your fingers over your eyes. You could feel his eyes on you as you opened your own, setting your hands to rest in your lap.

You turn your head to face him, his eyes wide as he realizes he's been caught in the act this time. You raise an eyebrow at him, as he closes his book and tucks it under his leg. You watch him swallow nervously as he goes to speak, “How was your…trip?” he asks, his voice low and cautious.

His eyes search yours as he waits to hear your answer, but begins to second guess himself. “Or, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I can just keep reading my book...”

“It was…warm. But not what I expected. I don’t think I care too much for the Atlantic Ocean.” you answer.

He chuckles under his breath, holding up the book that was just under his leg. ‘We The Drowned’ adorning the cover. “Some of the most interesting shipwrecks took place in the Atlantic.” he says flipping through the pages of the book.

“Probably because it’s one of the most dangerous in the world.” you offered.

“That it is, but beauty hides in danger you know…” he replies, in his usual cryptic way, just before changing the subject. “Why did you go? On your trip…” he asks.

“To… get out of Nashville.” you answer, not completely a lie.

He looks to the floor, nodding his head, “Ahh…To get away from me.”

His eyes look to yours, and he finds his answer as he plays with the rolled edges of his book.

“No…” you squeak out.

A soft push of air leaves his nose and a smile curls his lips, “I can still tell when you’re lying you know…” he says, turning to look at you.

Of course he can.

“I just wanted to go…Somewhere quiet where I could think…Figure some things out. Find some answers. Just needed a little bit of me time.” you answer.

“And did you find your answers?” he asks, bringing his fingertips to his chin.

“No.” you reply defeatedly.

He runs his fingers over hip lips, thinking about his response almost as if he knew he had the answer you needed, “It will come to you. When you least expect it.”

—

You all stand in front of the luggage carousel, looking for your bags as they circle around, waiting to be plucked from the line. Jake’s words circled through your mind just the same, ‘When you least expect it…’ You wondered what he meant.

Sam threw his arm around you as he took a spot next to you, “How was it? You good?” he asks.

“It was fine, although I swear I booked our seats together.” you answer.

“I don’t see any blood, so it looks like you two didn’t kill each other.” he laughs.

You elbow his ribs, sending him hurdling dramatically into Daniel.

You watch as he and Daniel begin to collect their bags and instrument cases, placing them onto the rolling cart. You watch patiently for yours, knowing it will be coming around any second.

You spot it, stepping forward to grab it but it's Jake’s hand that takes the handle, yanking it from the belt. Shocked, you turned to look at him, “How did you know that was mine?”

“Oh, uh, I saw it when we got to the airport this morning. I guess I just remembered what it looked like.” he said with a soft hopeful smile.

“Well thanks, I could have grabbed it, you didn’t have to do that…” you trail off.

“I know. I wanted to.” he says, placing the suitcase on the cart. He turns back, grabbing his guitar case as it passes, and you all start to make your way to the exit. Pulling your phone from your bag, you pull up the information for the pickup spot and lead the way.

—

Loading five suitcases and two instrument cases into a van proved to be more difficult than you anticipated. After roughly twenty minutes of luggage tetris you were on your way to the hotel, fully ready to have a drink. The ride was relatively quiet, Sam spent most of the time showing you pictures on his phone of all of the things he did over the past two weeks that he didn’t get to tell you about, flicking away the messages that would occasionally pop up across the screen.

You felt bad about leaving Sam hanging, not even mentioning you were leaving. But you knew if you told him, he would come to you. He would find you, and fuck you until you couldn’t remember your own name. So you said nothing, and simply left without even so much as a text. But as you laid on that beach it wasn’t Sam you thought of.

The van pulling into the hotel drop off snapped you back to the present. Everyone began to file out, pulling the carefully arranged bags from the back one by one until yours was the last one left, and sure enough there was Jake again to lend a hand. You blushed as he rolled it towards you with a subtle nod.

You grabbed your phone as you made your way into the lobby, telling the guys you would be back with their room keys. But as you approached the front desk and gave the man your confirmation number, he turned you away stating that your check in time was not until 4:00 pm and it was only 2:30. You pulled up your confirmation, to show him where you had selected an early check in, but to your surprise it wasn’t there. You hadn’t done it. Now, this wouldn’t have been a problem if the guys didn’t have to be in the van and ready to go at 3:45 to head to the venue. But they did, and you needed to figure this out quickly.

You fumbled with the iPad in your bag trying to pull it out of the mess, thoughts swirling a mile a minute. You placed yourself on one of the lobby chairs and began checking times and booking information. You were so sure you selected early check in? How did you manage to get two things wrong in one day?

You just need to call the venue and tell them you’ll be late, then call the van driver and tell him the new time, and everything will be fine. Except it wasn’t. The venue was more than willing to accommodate the later meeting, however the van driver had another pick up and wouldn’t be able to come back until 5:30, pushing everything back significantly. You had no choice but to agree. Your hands were tied.

The guys all walked through the door as you hung up with the driver, seeing the look of panic on your face as they approached you.

“We good to go?” Josh asked.

“Not exactly... Apparently I forgot to request an early check in, so they wont let us into our rooms for another hour and a half.” you say.

“You forgot? What do you mean you forgot?” Josh asks, furrowing his brow.

“I swear I selected it, I’m not sure what happened but it definitely is not on our booking, and the receptionist was not budging.” you answer.

“Great…” he gripes. “Don’t we have to be at the venue in like an hour?”

“Yeah, you do. I just got off the phone with your driver and told him they wont let us check in until later and that you would need to be picked up later than planned. I called the venue and they were fine with pushing the meeting back, but the driver can't come until 5:30 now, due to a previously scheduled pickup. But I–” Josh’s voice suddenly interrupted you.

“Y/N, are you fucking serious?” Josh asks.

You recoiled at the harshness of his words. He didn’t let you finish.

“I’m sorry?” you ask.

“This isn’t some fun little vacation Y/N, this is work. This is your job. It is your job to make sure shit like this doesn’t happen! Our whole day is going to be thrown off because you forgot to do something? I thought you could handle this! You can't even deal with an early check in? Do you know how bad this makes us look to the venue staff?” he seethes, shaking his head. “Maybe if you weren’t so far up my brother's asses you would have more time to focus on what you’re actually here to do. Maybe I was wrong about you.”

You feel your eyes well with tears and overwhelming guilt take over your body. Your eyes leave his and look down to the floor in embarrassment.

Was he right?

JAKE POV

“Josh!” you yell, you can feel your blood boiling under your skin.

His eyes snap to you in a silent ‘what’.

“That’s fucking enough! What is wrong with you?! Since when do you talk to people like that, let alone Y/N? You prick, you’re lucky she doesn’t quit on the spot and leave your ass to figure this shit out for yourself! Unbelievable.” you continue, shaking your head. “You know she is doing a damn good job, you said it yourself a week ago! Sure it's an inconvenience, but are you really going to stand here and say you’ve never made a mistake? Get a grip Josh.”

His face softens and demeanor shifts, he knows you’re right, whether he will admit it or not.

Daniel turns to her, placing his hand on her arm, “Y/N, don’t listen to him. I don’t know what crawled up his ass. You’re doing great, I’m sure everything will work out fine.”

Your eyes flick over to hers, filled with tears but trying her best not to crack in front of all of you. Don’t break baby, hold strong. You watch as she swallows down the lump in her throat, and turns away, walking back to the front desk.

When she is out of earshot you step up closer to Josh, grabbing him forcefully by the back of his neck, and growling into his ear, “Don’t ever let me hear you talk to her like that again, or you and I are going to have a fucking problem. Understand?” you say, releasing him with a push. He shrugs you off and turns away.

You look over to Sam, who is completely oblivious to everything around him as he talks on the phone in the corner. Who the fuck is he talking to? Why is he not over here defending her?

Josh pulls out his phone and ignores you as you stand there watching him, wondering what the fuck came over him to make him snap like that. You see Y/N walking back towards the group, with room keys and a stoic expression.

She clears her throat to address the group, “I talked to the manager and explained the situation. She issued us our keys. I’m gonna go to my room and change, and make a few calls but I will send you all a text when the van gets here.” she says, completely dejected not making eye contact with any of you.

She passes out the keys to each of you, eyes full of sadness as she hands Josh his last. “Sorry I’m not what you expected. I understand if you need to find someone else.”

She turns and walks away, her suitcase rolling next to her as she makes her way to the elevator. Fuck.

Daniel turns to Josh, “God damn dude. If that’s how you treat your friends, I would hate to be your enemy.”

—

Tapping your keycard to the door you enter your room, which is much larger and nicer than the last hotel, with a stunning view of the ocean. You set your things on the table and open the curtains, fully taking in the beauty of the Atlantic, smiling to yourself as you thought back to your conversation with Y/N just a few short hours ago.

You knew she was going to run. She always did. If she was hurt, really hurt, she was going to run away, and isolate herself. Completely shut the world out trying to close herself off from the pain, hoping that it wouldn’t find her wherever she was going. But it always did, it was written all over her face as you saw her at the airport this morning. You couldn’t exactly blame her, you were hurting too.

You kicked off your boots, as you made your way over to the bed, laying down into the fluffy white duvet with a sigh. The feeling of her skin against your hand playing on repeat in your mind. You weren’t sure why you did it, instinct maybe, but you don’t regret it. You could feel her relax at your touch. You still had that effect on her. It gave you hope. Hope that maybe she didn’t hate you. Hope that maybe she would hear you out. You wanted to show her that she could trust you. That you were always there for her. Vigilant for her.

But now you lay here picturing her face as Josh berated her just a few minutes ago. The tears in her eyes and the pain on her face. How could he say that? Right in front of everyone. You wanted to grab her, take her away and tell her he was wrong. Hold her until she believed you. But you couldn’t.

You force yourself up from the bed, scanning the room for the mini bar. You pull one of the mini bottles from the cabinet, along with a tonic water and mix together the tequila and bubbles. It would at least take the edge off.

You walk over to the couch and sit, staring out at the ocean as you sip your drink. You watch the waves as they kiss the rocky shoreline, only for a moment before being pulled away again, but knowing it will be a short time before they return once more. A hopeful sentiment that was so applicable to you. You began to wonder if Josh was right. Would she return to you? Would she come back?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Leaning over you pulled the shiny black device into view, knowing it was probably just the group chat, but to your surprise it wasn’t.

2:57pm: Is he right?

Oh god, she is still tearing herself up.

You

2:58pm: No, not this time.

You want to say more, but you don’t. You were shocked she even messaged you to begin with. You scrolled up, looking at the messages you sent her or the last few weeks, all read but never responded to. You didn’t expect her to, but you still hoped. A few minutes pass, your knee anxiously bouncing as you wait to see if she will message you again.

3:01pm: Thank you for saying what you did.

You

3:02pm: It’s true, you know. You are doing a good job. I’m proud of you.

3:05pm: Thanks…I needed that. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you too.

Your heart leaps in your chest. She is proud of you. Just as you go to reply, a text comes across the screen in the group chat.

3:10pm: Change of plans…Driver will be here in 20. Sorry for the confusion, we are back on schedule. See you in the lobby.

—

Anxiety swirls in your chest as you ride the elevator down. The line of communication had been reopened, you were making progress. You were nervous to see her after your text exchange just minutes ago, but as the doors opened to the lobby, it wasn’t her that you saw, it was Josh talking to Summer.

You walked past them, nodding your head as a hello, and pulling your phone from your pocket. You hadn’t spoken to Summer about what happened, unsure what to say in the moment without blowing up on her. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t know what she was doing when it happened. As far as you knew she had no idea about you and Y/N, and you planned to keep it that way. But what you didn’t want was for Y/N to step off the elevator and see you talking to her. You made your way over to a couch and began to scroll through Instagram.

A few minutes later, Sam and Daniel join you on the couch making small talk while mindlessly scrolling on their own phones. Y/N was the last one down, her cheeks still slightly swollen from the remnants of her inevitable break down when she got back to her room. A pang shot through your chest at the thought, followed closely by anger knowing that Josh caused it. You swallowed back your emotions as she made her way over to the group, sending her a soft smile as she approached.

“Have everything you need?” she asks the group. Summer and Josh, walking over to join you.

You all stand to meet her, grabbing your cases and heading over towards the door. She buries her face in her iPad, checking the schedule as you walk behind her before climbing into the van.

—

After a short ride, you’re walking through the door at the venue, depositing your guitar with your tech, making sure he has ample time to do his job before you need it, then returning back to the group.

You watch as inconspicuously as possible as Y/N goes over details with the venue staff, signing paperwork, and discussing timelines. You won't soundcheck until tomorrow morning, but the venue requested you be present during the stage set up. So here you sat, watching as the stage you so loved grew on the once empty platform.

After about an hour, the stage was built and the crew was adding the finishing touches. Josh approached you and Daniel talking on the side of the stage, “Should we go eat? You guys hungry?” he asked.

“I’m always hungry. Where do you want to go? What’s around here?” Daniel replies.

“Ask Sam, he always knows a place.” You suggest. Josh nods and goes to find Sam in search of a restaurant.

“You think he’s gonna apologize?” Danny asks.

“He needs to. I think he hurt her feelings pretty bad.” you reply.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“She texted me, after we all got into our rooms. I couldn’t believe it honestly. Asked me if he was right.” you say.

“Damn, he got to her.” he says.

“Think so. I think he knows he fucked up too. Hasn’t talked to her since.” you say shoving your hands into your pockets.

Daniel nods his head, “You know how he is…I’m sure he will. He just has to find the right arrangement of words.”

—

Sam did in fact have a restaurant in mind, only two blocks away from the hotel. A swanky little seafood restaurant that overlooked Port Jefferson. Leave it to Sam to find the most expensive oysters in Connecticut.

The van dropped you off outside, and you all scurried inside the large glass doors. You rode the elevator up to the top floor of the building, all of you huddled into the small space. When the doors opened you stepped out into the large waiting area that held the hostess stand. Y/N stepped up, giving the girl the name on the reservation she was miraculously able to book at the last minute.

You don't know how Josh could ever justify saying the things he did when she was able do things like this. The hostess led you to a large table littered with candles and polished glasses that shone in the flicker of the candle light. Everyone chose a seat, and for once you sat as far away from Josh as you could. Y/N clearly had the same idea, taking the seat between you and Sam.

You all began flipping through the menus over small talk, looking over the extensive drink menu and discussing the options. As your eyes scanned over the list you decided you wanted to take it easy tonight. Maybe prove to yourself that you could handle your emotions without the help of hard liquor. So you decided to stick to wine, ordering a glass of Chardonnay, but not without ridicule from Sam.

As the waiter brought out everyone's drinks you began to sip the crisp white, a perfect pairing with the overpriced oysters sitting on the table. You tried not to stare as you watched Y/N tip the oyster shell to her lips, the action sending a jolt straight to your groin. Your eyes traveled down her neck, watching as she swallowed before taking in the rest of her. Her burgundy dress held her curves just right, her hair hanging in waves around her shoulders. She was so pretty. She always was.

Sam turns to look at you, catching you in the act as you study her. Your guilty eyes flick up to his, and you watch a sly grin cross his face. “Jake, did you know oysters are an aphrodisiac?” he says, sending you a wink.

The fuck? Did she see that?

“Are you going to tell me that every time we eat oysters, Sammy?” you ask.

“No, I’ve just never seen them in action before.” he quips.

Your jaw clenches and you grab your wine taking a long swig, hoping the redness of your cheeks is concealed by the glass. As you return it to the table, Sam sparks a new conversation with her, pulling her attention from his comments as he raises an eyebrow in victory. He wins this round.

After a delicious meal and a few glasses of wine, you felt the anxiety in your chest start to wither away. Everyone was laughing and talking freely now, as if the incident in the lobby hadn’t even happened. Y/N and Sam were giggling with each other, and you were just happy to hear her laugh again. She had her fair share of alcohol tonight, a French 75 being her drink of choice for the evening. Her cheeks were flushed and her guard was lowered, the quiet and collected facade she typically wore had dissipated.

When the waiter came by to ask if the group wanted another round, she declined, stating that she probably had too much already, laughing as she said it.

“Just have one more! Come on, we’re all getting another, right Jake?” Sam asked..

You could see her thinking about it, the way the little crease in her brow appeared as she debated with herself. She looked over to Josh, his own cheeks red as he animatedly spoke to Summer. Then she turned to you, to hear your response, her eyes twinkling in the candle light. With a gentle smile you leaned in to whisper, “You should get another, you earned it. I’m not drinking anymore, but don’t tell Sam.”

You saw her nose crinkle with a smile as she nodded her head. “Okay, one more, but that’s it.” and with that the waiter was off the fetch another round.

“You two are a bad influence…” she laughed.

“But we’re your favorite bad influences…” Sam presses.

Her eyes flick to yours, “More than you know…”

A giggle left your chest, you knew she was done for and her drink hadn’t even come yet.

—

One more drink turned into two more, and you watched as her, Sam, and Daniel were instantly transported back to high school, reliving the old days and laughing at the memories shared.

One story in particular caught your interest, you adding your own anecdotes, sending all of them into a fit of laughter. You hadn’t seen them all laugh that hard in years. As the laughter started to die down, Sam and Daniel started a new conversation as Y/N turned to face you. You knew she was drunk, you could see it in her eyes. Glassy and bloodshot, a permanent smile on her face, making way for the barely there dimple in her left cheek. One of your favorite things about her.

“Just one more, huh?” you ask jokingly, as she puts down the empty glass.

She huffs as she slaps your leg playfully. But she doesn’t remove it right away. It stays there sliding down to reach just above your knee, causing you to stiffen in your chair.

“I’m fine…I’m not even that drunk…” she slurs, a soft giggle leaving her chest.

“Mmm, I beg to differ darlin’, you’re in rare form.” you reply, feeling her grip on your knee tighten.

“I…didn’tmeanto…” she says, almost as one word.

You slide your hand down to meet hers resting on your thigh, feeling her fingers against yours. “I know, it’s okay. I don’t think anyone else has noticed.” you say, squeezing her hand before pulling it away. You see her brow furrow at the loss of contact as she pulls her own hand away.

A few minutes later, Daniel stands up from the table and makes the first move to head back to the hotel, “Let’s go, I’m ready to go to bed.” he laughs.

The rest of you agree and stand to meet him, but as you are pushing in your chair you notice Y/N, silently struggling to find her balance. The drinks definitely got her, but she was trying to play it cool.

Finding her footing, you all made your way to the elevator and down to the main lobby of the building. The hotel was only about two blocks away, and it was a nice night so you all decided to walk, instead of calling an Uber, knowing a walk would sober you up anyways.

You let everyone walk in front of you, feeling like you could keep a better eye on them from there, watching as Josh and Daniel chatted, Summer played on her phone, and Sam and Y/N tried to have a conversation. You smirked at her trying to walk normally in her heels, knowing it was taking every ounce of effort she had.

She turned back to look for you, smiling as your eyes met before turning back around. Sam whispered in her ear before running to catch up with Josh and Daniel, leaving Y/N to hobble along by herself.

You picked up your pace a little, now only a few steps behind her, taking in the smell of her perfume floating behind her as she walked. As you drew closer to the hotel, you pulled your phone from your pocket to scroll through your notifications. As usual, there was nothing important, so you returned it back to your pocket. As your eyes glanced up, you saw Y/N misstep, and start to fall forwards. You lunged forward grabbing her arm, and holding her steady. She spun to look at you, shocked that you caught her.

“Been walking long?” you joke with a playful smirk.

She just giggles and turns to keep moving, but as you release your grip on her arm you feel her hand slide down and brush yours, before grabbing it completely. Thinking she may just need you for balance you let her take it, secretly reveling in intimacy of the act. The hotel was in your sights, and you found yourself wishing the walk was longer. You’ve touched her more today than you had in years.

Her fingers moved to intertwine with yours causing your breath to hitch in your throat. You could feel the pang in your chest as her thumb slid across your wrist. She turned to look at you as it happened, her eyes heavy and a beautiful flush of pink still across her cheeks. You continued to walk hand in hand, feeling her legs try to carry her in all different directions.

As you approached the front door of the lobby, you begrudgingly released her hand, grabbing the door from Sam, and ushering her inside with your left hand placed gently to her back. You let go of her as she walked to the elevator, and it becoming very clear to you just how drunk she was.

Stepping inside, you pressed the button for floor six, before turning to her, “What floor are you?”

She just stares at you, and you can see her mind trying to process the words you’re saying.

“Do you have your room key?” you ask.

“Yesssss.” she answers, digging into her purse. She pulls it out, and thankfully it is still in the paper wrapper with her room number written on it. “Oh, you’re the same as me.”

The elevator begins to move and you lean backwards onto the railing with a sigh.

“You good?” Sam whispers, looking at her, before flicking his eyes to you.

“I’m fine, she is not.” you laugh.

“I haven’t seen her this drunk in…years.” he replies.

“I think we have Josh to thank for that.” you say sending him a look.

“Want me to take her to her room?” he asks.

“Ahhh, we’re on the same floor, I’ll do it…” you answer. “Also, that oyster comment? Fuck off…”

He smiled and shrugged his shoulders as the elevator stopped at his floor, and he was walking out with a laugh.

As the elevator continues to climb it reaches floor six and the doors spring open. You step off, and motion your head for her to follow you. She turns to the group and gives them a hearty ‘goodnight’ as you laugh and shake your head.

The doors shut and you begin to walk her down the hallway to her room. You tap her keycard to her door and you can feel her eyes burning into the side of your head. You glance over at her as you hear the door unlock, and just by looking at her you can tell her mind is hazy and uninhibited.

You push the door open, and she steps inside. You briefly wonder if you should just shut the door and go back to your room, but after what happened with Josh today, you decide to make sure her alarm is set, just in case.

You let the door close behind you as you step over the threshold and into her room. It’s the same set up as yours, just reversed with a smaller bed. Her things are scattered everywhere, paperwork, and the like. You really had no idea how much went on behind the scenes. You just showed up when you were told.

She threw her purse onto the dresser, and you took the initiative to step into the bathroom, and quickly look through her makeup bag to see if she had any ibuprofen. Pushing around the brushes and sparkly things you found a bottle at the very bottom. Bingo. You twisted the lid, and poured out 4 small red pills before putting the bottle back into the bag and stepping back out.

She had positioned herself on the end of the bed, fiddling with the straps of her shoes. You walked over to the mini bar, grabbing a bottle of water and placing it and the pills on the bedside table.

“Jake?” she says looking up at you.

“Mhmm?” you reply.

“I think I drank too much...” she admits.

You let out a small laugh and smile back at her, “I know you did, love. It’s okay, just get in bed.”

She lets out a groan as she continues to struggle with her shoes, throwing herself back onto the fluffy mattress.

You nervously sit on the couch across from her, and hold your hand out, “Here.” you say, gesturing to her shoe.

She leans up on her elbows, eyes heavy and dark. She lifts her foot up to your hand, and you unbuckle the first shoe with ease, tossing it across the room and resting her foot on the floor. She lifts her other foot placing it in your hand and you remove the second shoe, tossing it to meet the other, giving her foot a slight squeeze as you release it.

“Where’s your phone?” you ask.

“Mmm’bag… over there…” she says, pointing to the dresser.

You stand up and walk over to it, lifting the flap to search for it. How do women find anything in here?

You feel it, and pull it out, seeing that it’s completely dead. “Charger?” you ask.

“Mmmmmm suitcase!” she giggles. She thinks this is funny…

With her phone in hand you walk over to her suitcase and search through it until you see the long white cord. Seeing a t-shirt you grab it too and stand up. You raise your eyebrows at her, tossing the shirt in her direction, landing on her stomach.

“You go change, I’m gonna plug this in and set your alarm, then I am leaving. You need to sleep.” you say.

“Don’t wanna change… gonna sleep in this…” she slurs.

“Y/N…” you warn, sending her a stern look.

She pushes herself up off of the bed, with the t-shirt in tow, “Ughhh you’re so… bossy. You know? Bossy…Actually…Actually, you’re not the boss of me…” she continues, stomping off to the bathroom.

She returned way too soon, walking toward you, barefoot and still clad in her dress. She held hazy eye contact as she slowly approached you, and you felt your heartbeat run wild. She turned around slowly, whispering over her shoulder, “Can you undo me?”

The heartbeat that was running wild now felt different, as every drop of blood you had in your veins traveled straight to your dick. You felt dizzy at the sound of her words, wishing you could oblige and undo her in every sense of the word. She definitely still had that effect on you, even after all these years.

With a rush of adrenaline, you stepped forward, bringing your hand up to push the hair gently over her shoulder exposing her neck and the tiny red zipper. As you settle her silky smooth locks over her shoulder, you drag your finger down the back of her neck until it meets the zipper. You grab it between your fingers, beginning to glide it down agonizingly slow. Leaning towards her, you whisper directly into her ear, “Actually sweetheart, I am the boss of you.”

You watched as goosebumps physically formed on her body, sending a jolt of energy through her. You inhaled deeply and quietly, trying not to let your own visceral reaction at this motion be known. You purposefully pulled it slowly, letting your fingers graze down her spine as you continued its descent until finally you approached the end, not wanting it to be over.

She spun around quickly, your hand still in the same position balancing on her lower back. As she turned, you left your hand there, bringing you face to face with her. Your eyes met, and you couldn’t stop yourself from letting your eyes fall to her lips, still stained with the prettiest shade of lipstick that she’d chosen for the night.

You wanted so badly to pull her into you, feel her chest rest on yours, bring yourself into her space more than you already were…but instead you released her, and she bounded off back to the bathroom, but not before stopping in the doorway and looking back at you, “Thank you…boss.” she said, sending you a wink and a salute.

When you hear the door shut you let out a giggle, laughing at her drunkenness. And god damn if she wasn’t sexy. You plugged the charger into the wall, and plugged the phone into the charger. You set it on the nightstand next to the water, waiting for it to turn on so you can set her alarm. Is this something you would do for anyone? Absolutely not. But for her… always. Even if things between the two of you were still rocky in the light of day.

You stood there with your hands in your pockets, just looking around the room as you waited for her to come out. When she finally did it was as if all the air had disappeared from your lungs. You hadn’t fully considered that you only threw her a t-shirt until she came out in just that.

You forced your eyes to look away from her, instead focusing on the bed, pulling back the sheets for her to climb in. You lift them up as she falls into the bed. Positioning herself to get comfortable. Almost immediately she softens, snuggling her face into the pillow. Her phone comes to life on the nightstand and you look to her, “Are you going to set your alarm, or should I do it?” you ask.

“You.” she answers.

You smirk, picking up her phone to set the alarm, only to be met with a passcode. You sit on the bed in front of her, as you stare at the screen. “What’s your code?” you ask, glancing over to her.

She forces her eyes open, but only barely, grabbing your hand and turning the phone to face her. She types in the numbers but you feel the phone buzz in your hand, as she groans.

She tries again, but the same thing happens, “Oh forget it, you do it. It’s, two-zero-one-three.” she says and your heart nearly stops.

You type in the numbers with a shaky hand and the screen unlocks granting you access.

She never changed it, it’s still 2013.

You set her alarm for 7:00am, and wince at the current time. It’s just past midnight and you know you all have a long day tomorrow. You place her phone back on the nightstand and turn to face her. Her eyes are blinking rapidly as she tries to keep them open, sleep threatening to take her at any second.

You stand up and walk across the room, turning off the lights. You return to the side of the bed, and you turn off that lamp too, “I’m leaving okay? There is water here if you need it.” you offer.

“Jake…” she breathes, voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah baby…” you answer, the word slipping out before you could stop it. Hopefully she didn’t notice.

“Don’t go yet…Stay…” she says. Fuck. You know this girl. You’ve met her before. That very first night in your bedroom all those years ago. If you couldn’t say no then, how could you possibly say no now?

“Only a few minutes…” you bargain.

You walk back to the edge of the bed, trying to decide where to go. Almost as if she could read your mind she turned to her other side and placed her hand on the opposite side of the bed, “Here.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Y/N...” you say, going against every fiber of your being.

“Just for a minute… please?” she begs.

Your legs carry you over to the other side of the bed as you dodge the objects littering the floor, the room shrouded in darkness.

You slip off your shoes and in a risky move, lay down on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbow. You can barely see her face in the darkness of the room, the light shining in from the window providing the only illumination.

You can see her eyes fluttering open and closed as she looks at you, “You look so different now…” she says, her voice soft and drawn out. “But not really that different…it’s a good different.”

You laugh and smile back at her, “Thanks, I think.”

“Yeah… you may be all hot and mysterious now, but you’re still the same here.” she says touching your chest. It was as if you had been shocked, 120 volts running straight through your body.

“Ahh… I’ve seen better days where that is concerned.” you reply.

She pulls her hand away and rests it in front of you. You can tell the alcohol is still strong in her bloodstream by how brave she is being. Knowing full well that she would never say these things sober. It’s quiet for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“Jake? Will you…play my song…” she asks, drawing out her words.

You inhale sharply at the request. Her song…Which one? They were all her songs as far as you were concerned.

“Which one, love?” you breathed.

“The flower song. Makes me cry.” she slurs. Of course it's that one. It’s always been that one.

“Mmm I don’t have my guitar darlin’…But if I did…” you pause, “I would play it for you a thousand times.”

She rolls closer to you, her hand reaching up to touch your face. “You would?”

“I would.” you answer. You grab her hand from your cheek and ghost her fingers over your lips, as you begin to hum the familiar tune that you’ve pushed from your mind for years. It’s not perfect by any means, you really only know the guitar chords, but for her, it’s enough.

“One day?” she whispers.

“Yeah baby. One day.” you answer, placing her hand to your chest leaving it there as you pull yours away. You gently roll to your back and place your hands behind your head on the pillow, continuing to hum as her fingers start to trace the plains of your chest. “Close your eyes, beautiful. Time to go to sleep.” you whisper.

You close your own eyes taking in the feeling of her fingertips on your bare skin, silently thanking yourself for choosing not to button your shirts all the way. There was something about her touch that was so addicting, so magnetizing, you couldn’t drag yourself away if you tried.

After a few minutes her fingers stopped moving, and you knew she was close to falling asleep. You carefully rolled back over to face her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as you whispered closely, “I’m gonna go, love. I’ll see you in the morning.” Your hand sliding down to rest at the side of her face.

She rolled further into your touch, humming at the warmth of your palm, and through a tired breath she whispers into the darkness, “I love you…”

You drop your head pressing your forehead to hers wanting so badly to say it back, but you don’t. You trail your thumb over her cheekbone as your quiet whisper dances across her lips, “Will you still love me in the morning?”

You wait for a few seconds to see if she is going to answer, but when you feel her long slow breaths fanning over your face, you know she's asleep. You leave the room quietly knowing that tonight, without a doubt, she fell asleep thinking of you.

—

NIGHT ONE

HER POV

Your alarm had been going off for a solid 5 minutes before you even attempted to reach over and silence it, the thumping in your head already making a strong entrance. I really need to change that damn alert tone.

You sat up slowly, feeling the rushing and swooshing of your hangover begin to consume you. You looked to your night stand, and noticed an unopened bottle of water and 4 ibuprofen sitting by the lamp. Hmm…how did that get there?

You tried to flip through your memories of the night before, oysters...cocktails…and lots of good conversation with the guys. Sam must have walked you back to your room and left it for you. You made a mental note to thank him later.

You popped the pills into your mouth and chugged from the plastic bottle, having a little bit of a hard time choking it down. You really must have had one too many. You drug yourself into the shower and rinsed off the smell of gin seeping from your pores, trying your best to piece together the evening. You turned the water on extra hot while you massaged your scalp, adding extra pressure to your temples to try and relieve the ache.

Right before you got out, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself. You turned the hot water almost all the way off, feeling the temperature shoot to almost ice cold as you stood under the shower head, allowing the cold water to wash over you. You didn’t remember who taught you that trick in college, but it was the best quick-fix to a hangover that you had right now.

You got dressed for the day, and realized you felt a lot better than you should, given your lack of memory from last night’s escapades. You grabbed the spare room keys, and began knocking on the guys’ doors to get them going for the day. You got to Sam’s door, using your key to open it just slightly and peek your head inside.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head!” You called into the room. All he did was raise a thumbs-up into the air before rolling around in his sheets. You trusted that he was awake; if there was one thing Sam never did, it was fall back asleep after he was awakened.

“Hey, thanks for leaving me the water and ibuprofen last night. I really appreciate it.” you said.

He turned to face you, rubbing his hands over his sleepy eyes, “I didn’t leave you water and pills...Wasn’t me in there.” He said, cracking a knowing, but sleepy smile.

“What? Stop playing Sam, who else would it have been–” you stopped yourself as soon as you saw Sam cheesing hard back at you from across the room.

He shrugged his shoulders hard, “Guess you shouldn’t have had that last drink, huh? Miss memory loss.” He laughed.

You scoffed at him, letting the door slam closed.

Who brought you back last night? How did you get back last night? No way it was Josh, Danny wouldn’t impose, that only leaves…No. Couldn’t be.

Knocks and yells through the door were next for Danny and Josh. You wholeheartedly hoped Josh wouldn’t open his door to greet you, as you were still feeling indifferent toward him for scolding you during yesterday’s mix-up.

You really wondered why he had said those things to you, it was so out of character for him. It hurt, badly, and you were embarrassed, but you decided to not let it get to you. You knew you were good at your job. You were great at problem solving and putting out fires, and you were glad you were able to show him that by resolving the issue. You were proud of yourself. Jake was proud of you.

Last was Jake’s room. You nervously brought your knuckles to the door, rapping on it a few times and listening for any signs of life. Instead of the normal four or five rounds of knocking before finally rustling him from his bedsheets, you were surprised with his bright and cheery face opening the door.

He was up and showered, still shirtless with a pair of sweats hugging his lower half. His hair was falling in damp strands over his shoulders, and he had his toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and a little bit of toothpaste showing through his lips. He was…radiant.

“Morning!” He perked up. “You look…rested.” He said through a cheeky smile, continuing to brush his teeth. He leaned in his open doorway, crossing his ankles over one another as he took you in. You did the same, unable to form words from the mixture of his morning voice filling your ears, his long locks looking fresh, and his still shower-soaked skin glistening from the sunrise coming through the window behind him.

You felt a heat rush over your face seeing him this way, something your eyes hadn’t had the pleasure of feasting on in many years.

You blinked your intrusive thoughts away, “I…could say the same for you. Why are you up so early?” you asked, crossing your arms across your chest, truly questioning his out-of-character motives.

He began to head back to the bathroom, nodding his head for you to follow him inside. Reluctantly, you followed and let the door close behind you, feeling strange about entering his room.

You stayed perched in the doorway, not coming any further into the room so as not to cross any invisible boundaries.

He returned promptly, throwing a t-shirt over his head, “Ahhh, I started waking up a little earlier a few weeks ago. Getting my day started earlier…” He said, stepping into the bathroom to exchange his sweats for jeans. “Somebody told me once that if you didn’t wake up with the sun, you might miss something beautiful. Kinda started to resonate with me lately.”

You couldn’t help but blush, a smile sneaking to your face. You hadn’t talked to Jake this much in ages. And it felt good. Natural even.

“Really? That’s good advice. From your dad?” You asked.

He began grabbing for his already packed bags, slinging them over his shoulders.

“No. You told me that.” He said, sending a shockwave through your body. Did you really say that?

“Oh...I…guess I do kind of remember that now.” You felt like your mouth was full of mush, tongue twisted and trying to reply to his words.

He simply nodded, then frowned, “Did you…have a good time last night?” He asked, almost sounding a bit shy.

“Yeah, I really did. It felt good to relax a little. I may have…overdone it though. I don’t remember a damn thing. I’m actually not even sure how we got back.” You admitted, nervously running your hands through your hair.

You watched as his face fell, a tell-tale sign that it really must have been him who accompanied you to your room last night.

“You don’t...remember anything? At all?” He pressed.

“No. Nothing, everything is really fuzzy. But, did you…walk me back to my room?” you asked, feeling weird even saying it out loud.

He grinned with his lips pursed. “Yeah, I walked you back. You were having a hard time navigating, so...I thought I would... assist.” he said, offering little information.

“So you walked me back, did you also...leave me the water and medicine?” You pry, trying to make him answer more than you were asking.

He plopped back down on the bed behind him, suddenly making you realize you were on a time crunch, and shouldn’t be in here.

He nodded. “Yes. I left you the water and the meds. And helped you change, and get out of your heels. And set your phone alarm. You know you let your phone completely die?” He was laughing through his words, and you felt positively humiliated.

His words rang through your mind. You didn’t remember him being in your room at all, let alone helping you get changed? Out of your heels? Plugging in your dead phone? Your mind was spinning.

“Jake, wait. You didn’t have to do all that. Why did you take care of me? I would’ve been fine...” you ramble.

He leaned back on his arms. “No, I didn’t have to. But I wanted to. It wasn’t a big deal, Y/N, really.” He answered without a care in the world.

“Okay, but...” you fidgeted with your shirt. “Was I acting...dumb?” You knew how mindless you could get after too many drinks. And unfortunately, Jake was no stranger to that side of you.

He laughed. “You were a little silly, but nothing out of the ordinary. Sam and I actually said we hadn’t seen you like that in years. It was kind of…nostalgically sweet. Like we were teenagers again.”

You felt your head rush. Nostalgically sweet? Was he trying to kill you? You felt your face flush.

“God. Please don’t ever let me get that drunk again. Especially while we’re working.” you begged.

“We weren’t really working. We were eating, and that doesn’t count.” He stood from the bed, readjusting the bags that had fallen from his shoulders. He walked over and stood close, towering over you with a playfully scolding look on his face. “Besides, if I wouldn’t have taken care of you, it would’ve been me banging on your door this morning.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Still, you felt awful. Embarrassed that you had little to no memory of the night, aggravated with yourself for letting your phone die and potentially messing up the entire day again, and humiliated that Jake was the one to take care of you last night. He shouldn’t have had to do that. You decided you’d spend the rest of the day punishing yourself and wallowing in your own sorrow, just to make yourself feel bad enough that you’d never do it again. At least in this capacity.

“Shit. I just feel so stupid. Let’s just go, we’ve got a big day ahead. And, Jake, thank you. Really. I appreciate it.” you relented, placing your hand on his arm.

He grinned at you sideways, and took your hand from his arm and brought it to his lips. He brought his eyes to yours, the caramel of his irises still flickering in the morning rays. He smiled and gave your fingers the tiniest peck.

“You actually already thanked me, love.” He winked, dropping your hand and walking to the door, opening the lever forcefully.

He held his hand out, offering to follow you out, “Shall we?”

——

Everyone had successfully made their way downstairs, on time and ready to go. You had contacted the driver, and he was set to arrive in 5 minutes. You took a seat on a chair in the lobby, clicking through emails and updates as usual. You tried not to feel anxious again, and reminded yourself that you did it before, and you could do it again. You also had a new fire lit within you, wanting to prove to Josh that you weren’t as distracted as he thought.

After a few minutes of checking in with Allison and marking things off your checklist, Sam joined you in the oversized chair, squeezing his way in beside you.

“Hello, lovely. How’s it going?” He asked quietly, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“Oh, so far so good, I guess. Just doing all of the things involved with putting you on stage successfully.” You grinned and gave him an elbow to the ribs.

You still wondered where the line should be drawn with professionalism with them. They were all overly touchy humans at their core, so it wasn’t lost on them to make physical contact with everyone around them. You just didn’t want any of your constituents getting the wrong idea, though you were sure no one had.

“You know, we really appreciate you. And you’re really doing a great job. I know it’s only the beginning of the tour, but things have already gone a lot smoother than they have in the past. You really know how to make it happen.” He said confidently.

“Wow Sammy, thanks. I actually needed that.” you replied.

“All I’m saying is Josh didn’t mean what he said. I don’t know who pissed him off, but you know him. Take everything he says with a grain of salt. I’m sorry he was shitty. That was so out of line.” He went on. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to take up for you. Jake and Daniel told me it wasn’t pretty.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t the best but. He was partially right. I was a bit...distracted. We’re going to move on from it though, I’m not going to let it ruin the night.” You said, truly feeling better and offering Sam a reassuring smile.

“That’s my girl.” He said, getting up from the chair. “Hey, before I forget. Remind me later, I need a favor.” He shot finger guns toward you as he backed away and rejoined the rest of the guys.

A few minutes later, the van pulled up outside, and everyone grabbed their things to load up. Sound check started in just a few hours, and you could feel the same excitement building up as you did last time. You thought to yourself, you have one of the coolest jobs on the planet. And to be sharing it with your best friends? Could you be any luckier?

—-

You were kept busy for most of the morning, running tiny errands and performing menial tasks. Right before noon, you received a radio that the stage was set, and the crew was ready for sound check. You ran to their trailer, hoping to catch them all not preoccupied with something else.

Luckily they were all doing their normal things, Summer taking photos while Sam and Daniel played around with a hackysack. “Hey guys, time to check sound. Let’s go.” you instructed them. They all stood to follow, and you made your way to the stage.

“Perfect as always, guys!” Sam shot thumbs up into the air as they approved of everything, and walked toward the stage. You laughed as Sam began to hoot and holler, jumping on Danny’s back and spinning an invisible lasso above his head. Jake followed close behind, shoving Sam off of Danny and running away quickly as the three of them began to tussle. You shook your head in disbelief, always falling in love with their antics.

You found yourself always looking forward to sound check, knowing you had a few minutes of downtime to collect yourself before the show. Just then, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Josh, looking at you sorrowfully, his eyes full of sadness.

“Hey, think we can sit for a minute?” He said, motioning to the patch of grass below you.

“Uh, yeah sure. Don’t you need to...get up there, though?” You stammered.

“Ah, I’ve got a few minutes before they need me. They’re slow as shit anyway.” He took a seat right there in front of the stage, making himself comfortable in the grass. You hesitated, and he patted the spot next to him. You felt anxiety creeping up, knowing what was to come next.

He huffed a loud exhale through his mouth, and leaned his head back on his shoulder, looking you in the eyes.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I fucked up badly. I wanted to talk to you about it, because apparently my stupid comments to you have kind of had a ripple effect.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. You held eye contact, waiting for him to go on.

“You did not deserve what I said to you, none of it is true, it never has been. I don’t know why I said those horrible things. You’re killing it here, and you just started. Do you know how long it’s taken our coordinators to get the hang of things in the past? Weeks, months, even. And you waltzed into this job like you’ve been doing it for years.” he said.

You offered him a small smile, showing him that you were appreciating his apology.

“I just wanted to apologize, truly. I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He put his hand on his chest.

You rested on his words for a few beats, hearing the loud strumming of Jake’s guitar ringing out across the amphitheater grounds. You and Josh both looked his way, and Jake shot you a warm smile, one that you were very familiar with. He always smiled like that when he saw Josh happy.

“Thanks for apologizing. It really tore me up there for a bit, you know I take words to heart.” You replied quietly. “But you were right, Josh. Maybe I needed a little wake-up call. Honestly, it kind of was like a pep talk, in some weird way? I don’t know.”

“No, it shouldn’t have been like that. I was way out of line, and I made you unhappy. That’s not what I’m here to do.” He paused, watching as Danny tapped around, adjusting everything to be right in his reach.

“You see, if my brothers are unhappy, then I’m unhappy. And if I’m the one to cause their unhappiness, then it’s even worse for all of us. It’s a conundrum, really. Especially with Jake. I feel his emotions more than I feel my own, most of the time.” He stared off into the distance, eyes glossing over.

“I guess that’s why I blew up on you. It’s no excuse in the least, but it’s because I felt what he was feeling so intensely. It made me just…mad at you? I suppose? No...mad isn’t the word.” Josh was sputtering over his words, something you’d truly never seen him do. He was always so eloquent and well spoken, but right now, he was struggling. He sat up and crossed his legs, running his hands over his face.

“What do you mean, Josh?” You weren’t sure where he was going with this.

He took another deep breath. “I just...I know he’s still in love with you. And I’m willing to bet my life that you still feel the same. I hate watching him like this, feeling him like this. You’ve got him torn up, Y/N. And it’s been worse since we all went home for the Fourth. Then everything with Sophia really just sent him down hill…” he paused again. You let his words sink in. You knew you were hurting Jake, but things were starting to get better. Josh had to know that.

“I think he and Sam are okay. At first it had him really fucked up. But I think you guys worked that out. I’m just…I’m really trying over here. I feel his agitation and I just… Exploded on you. And you didn’t deserve that. And I’m very sorry. I hope you still love me.” He offered you a smile. “Please don’t quit on us. I almost had a heart attack when you told me to find someone else.” He gripped his chest again, chuckling his hearty laugh.

You laughed in return. “Thank you for apologizing, Josh. Everything is cool, and of course I still love you. You’re my brother.” You put your arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a squeeze. “And my boss, but we don’t have to talk about that.” You left your head on his shoulder, and suddenly the guys erupted in cheers and applause from on stage, obviously feeling relieved that you two had resolved things.

The two of you laughed together, and things immediately felt back to normal. You couldn’t stay upset with Josh if you tried. He stood up, wiping blades of grass from his backside.

“Hey, wait.” You went on. “What do you mean you’re ‘really trying over here’?”

He grinned and stretched his arms above his head, “Oh, you know. Just playing matchmaker. Do you really think you and Jake keep ending up in the same vicinity by accident? Side by side on airplanes...him walking you back to hotels from restaurants and tucking you into bed at night…I saw you holding hands on the walk back last night. Looked pretty cozy to me. No such thing as a coincidence, love.” He shot you a wink, and was off to join his brothers on stage.

And it was then you realized that it was because of Josh that Jake found his confidence to place himself beside you again.

—

The time came around for the show to start, and your anxious feeling rolled around once more. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of this feeling. The rush was addicting, you couldn’t imagine what it felt like for the guys.

You walked to the front door of the dressing room, knocking on it a few times before entering. Josh was rushing around, drink in hand, Danny was sitting on the couch with Jake showing each other videos, and Sam was laid out in a chair, almost completely undressed, typing madly on his phone.

“Sam, you know you go on in 15 minutes. Why aren’t you dressed?” You quip, aggravation in your voice. The rest of the guys laughed.

“Because, Y/N, I put on a pair of pants and a jacket. Tell me how on earth that takes more than literally 14 seconds? I don’t take half an hour to get dressed like my eldest brother, in case you haven’t noticed.” He said, keeping his seat.

You shut your eyes and bring your fingertips between your eyes, massaging the bridge of your nose. “Will you please just…get dressed? For the love of all that is holy…”

He stood up, laughing to himself at your expense. He tossed back the rest of his seltzer, and came over to you, kissing your forehead before disappearing toward the dressing room.

“God, I love getting on your nerves. Time me!” Sam spat from behind the curtain. You couldn’t help but giggle.

He returned within 30 seconds, failing to beat his own time. Josh had taken this time to pour up their shots, a perfect line of 5 tiny plastic cups overflowing with a cold, clear liquid.

‘Ten minutes, ten minutes to stage.’ Your radio beeped. You watched as Josh passed out the shots to everyone, this time toasting to the new city and the new fans it would bring them. You tossed back the liquor, and stepped away to watch them huddle close together, speaking quietly to one another before pressing their heads in close. Yeah, it’ll never get old.

You took in the sight of their outfits, each adorned in something new. You began making a habit out of checking them out before you allowed them to walk out the door, which actually was a good thing, given at least one of them always had something in disarray.

Danny and Sam gained your approval unscathed, both itching to get out the door for one last drink.

Josh’s golden jumpsuit was perfect...the green vines and white flower appliques were gorgeous, and looked even better up close. It had tiny rhinestones throughout, and they caught the light with every move he made. He spun and play-curtsied to you when you gave him the go ahead.

Jake. He walked toward you, holding his arms out to the sides and grinning from ear to ear. “What do you think, love? Will these rags do?” He said in his pirate accent. He’d been drinking whiskey, you could tell. You felt no shame as you raked your eyes from top to bottom, his suit complementary to the colors of Josh’s. Olive green, embellished with white embroidered moths and golden swirls. This might be your absolute favorite outfit yet.

“You look…” you opened your mouth to finish the sentence, but nothing came out.

“Ahh, don’t tell me I’ve rendered you speechless, eh love? I haven’t been able to do that in…many years...” he said, bringing his face closer to yours.

He was so close, that you could feel his whiskey drenched breath on your cheek. Suddenly he had his hand tucked under your coat, resting on your side. He slowly brushed his thumb across your ribs, almost as if he knew exactly where he was going. As he gently grazed the tiny cluster of stars, you knew your suspicion was right.

“Do you...remember those times? When you...forgot how to speak?” he whispered.

Mother fucker. What the hell was he on tonight? Your face went flush as you tried to bring yourself back to the here and now.

“I’m not speechless, I’m just…that suit is really gorgeous, Jake.” You finally stammered out. What you really wanted to say was that he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid your eyes on, and you weren’t sure how you were going to survive watching him play tonight. In that.

Your eyes traveled to his necklace resting between his pecs, and seeing his chest this closely again brought back a quick flash of a memory. From last night, when you were too intoxicated to remember hardly anything.

Jake, lying on your bed, with your hand on his bare chest, fingertips grazing along his skin and his lips, tracing his features…and he was, humming?

“Y/N, you ok? You look…deep in thought..” Jake said, snapping you away from the fuzzy memory.

“Umm, yeah. Yes I’m good.” You replied too quickly.

You noticed his sleeve was flipped and cuffed at the bottom. Always at least one thing wrong. You reached and grabbed his hand, pulling it up and in between you. His hand was clammy, probably his nerves and adrenaline setting in. But still, the touch of his hand on yours was enough to burn a hole right through your palm. You flipped the cuff, and released his hand to fall.

He smiled, bringing his hand up to your face to brush a tiny hair from your eyes. “I like it better when you don’t let go of my hand when you reach for it. Feels better there.”

You gave him a shy smile, unable to disagree. “Probably doesn’t feel as good as your guitar is about to feel in it, though...” You replied, recoiling slightly from his unexpected words.

He began to hop down the steps, turning back to you. “Nothing feels as good as your hand in mine, darlin’.” He sauntered through the area, leaving you standing in the doorway. He had, indeed, rendered you speechless.

“Oh!” He turned back around. “You going to be side stage tonight?” He yelled at you from across the lot.

“Of course!” You waved at him with one finger. “Good luck!”

He answered you with a one-finger wave back before he disappeared in a rush toward the stage.

A free feeling suddenly overtook you, the show was starting in less than a minute, your mind should be traveling a million miles a minute right now with work related tasks. But it wasn’t.

All you could think about was the fact that Jake Kiszka wanted to hold your hand.

—-

Side stage was a bit crowded with equipment and crew, the stage being a bit smaller compared to the last one. But you didn’t let it stop you from standing behind a case, leaning into it lightly so as not to roll it away.

The show began just like the others, a pit full of fans screaming and celebrating their time together with their favorite musicians. You kept the setlist in your hand, following along and trying to take in every single little detail that you could commit to memory. You were beginning to get the hang of the songs, and had gotten very good at recognizing them quickly. Of course, their albums were all you’d been listening to for the past few weeks. It had begun to hurt a little less, hearing the recorded versions of the songs, and then watching them play them live. There still were a couple songs, though, you couldn’t quite listen to so easily.

You watched as Sam worked his side of the crowd, flirting and drinking his little drinks. They absolutely fawned over him as they waved, and he waved back.

Josh worked the middle like there was nothing to it, being his hilarious and animated self. Danny was so sure of himself, so focused. He never missed a beat, literally, and you found yourself really studying how hard he worked to keep everyone in time so well.

The fans on Jake’s side seemed to crowd in closer, many of them looking like they were on top of one another. His side of the crowd seemed to move a lot, their hands hardly ever leaving the air. Their faces dropped in awe watching him play. How could you blame them?

The show was going on great, you only checked your phone for texts a couple of times, and everything was moving along smoothly through the first hour or so. As you watched Jake go insane on his guitar, you thought back to what had just happened in the trailer with him…his whiskey-soaked breath on your skin, his hand burning into your side, the suggestive words he spoke…

You couldn’t help but to flash back to those times when you truly were speechless, tangled up in his sheets, reliving the same body-shattering feeling again and again as often as your bodies would allow. The two of you would disappear for hours on end, both of your phones blowing up with his brothers searching for you. But you couldn’t care less. You were so soaked into each other that you’d go hours without speaking…no words uttered except the sound of him talking you through it, encouraging your every move and letting you know how good you made him feel...how beautiful you looked...and after each and every time, no words were ever able to find your lips.

You were brought out of your daydream by the sounds of familiar chords. In the middle of your trip down memory lane, Jake had somehow switched to his acoustic. The crowd went insane, cheering louder than they had the whole show. You looked out to them, seeing their faces wild with disbelief.

You glanced at Josh, who happened to be making sweet eye contact with you, giving you a quick smirk that made you more confused than anything. You continued to listen, the tune sounding more and more familiar as Danny and Sam came in.

Oh…my god…

There’s no way…

You looked to Jake, who had now turned his head toward you, smiling the same smile he’d given Josh earlier while you sat in the grass. You shook your head in disbelief, confusion written all over your face.

‘Babe…ain’t no denyin’…’

There is no way. Are they really playing this right now?

You glanced down to your setlist, not seeing this song on there. You looked back up to the rest of the band, all of them wearing the same facial expression, a smirk that they just couldn’t hide. Your mouth fell open on its own at the realization.

‘….if you stood yourself and said…’

You watched as Jake carried his guitar over to Josh, singing the lyrics along with him. He brought his eyes to yours between the words, sending you shy grins throughout.

You felt your guts fall to a million pieces. Tears welled up in your eyes as you processed what was happening. Why are they playing this right now? They haven’t played it in ages.

Jake met your eyes again as he strummed along, looking as beautiful and confident as ever while you stood to the side and fell apart. You had to physically hold on to the case you were standing beside; you felt like the weight of the world might come crashing down around you.

The memories, the guilt, the pain and sadness and all the happy times rolled into one. There was only one song more important to you than this one...but this one held one heck of a special place. The song he wrote for you years ago. You left before you ever got to hear it fully. They told you it was his siren song to try and find you again night after night…and here it was. Being played while you stood 20 feet away.

You rushed off stage as the song came to a close. You ran to the bathroom, tears flowing from your eyes, needing a second to collect yourself. What did this mean? Why now? You heard the crowd erupt again as they ended the song, and began the next. He just made that happen for you, and now he’s simply going on with the show while you’re here in the bathroom. He was so much stronger than you could even think about being right now.

—

JAKE POV

Where did she go? Why was she upset?

The show wrapped up without any mishaps, and you waved to the fans and threw out your spare picks to the crowd. You tore off across the stage, pulling your guitar over your head and handing it off to your tech.

Was she crying?

You paced the makeshift hallways backstage, eyes searching for her in the dark corridors. Suddenly you were stopped by someone, running into them with a thud.

“Oh my god, sorry Jake! I couldn’t see you...It’s really dark back here.”

Summer.

“Oh it’s no problem, sorry.” You responded, trying to continue your search. You placed your hand on her arm, moving around her in the narrow hallway.

“You guys sounded great tonight...” she pressed, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, essentially pulling you back toward her. You tried to free your hand, but she had a tight grasp.

“Ah, thanks. Appreciate it. Hey, have you seen Y/N anywhere?” You ask, trying your best to be anywhere but here with her.

“Uhhh, no I haven’t seen her since before the show. Is there something I can help you with?” She asked, her voice dripping with lust, completely out of context. She still had a tight grip on your hand.

“No, just her. I need to find her. Can you...let go of my hand, please?” You felt yourself becoming defensive. She obliged, letting your hand go, but not before she pulled herself closer into you, her hands wrapped around your waist. Her hands began to grip your sides, making you feel extremely uncomfortable.

“I know you still want me, Jake. I knew it the night you invited me to your room. You felt it, too, didn’t you?” She spoke over the still existing lull of the crowd. “I could tell by the way you touched me…the way you kissed me...”

Okay. That’s enough.

You pulled her hands off of you, pressing them back to her sides with force.

“Summer, please. Stop it. You need to act professional right now. You are at work. I’m sorry, but I don’t want you. Please, stop doing this. Do you understand me?” You were spitting fire toward her, feeling unease like you never had before.

She backed away into the shadows, nodding her head with a devious smile. “Sure, ok.” And that was all she said before making her way back to the stage. Thank god.

You turned the last corner before the dressing rooms, still searching and there she was, right on the other side of the thin wall.

“Hey, there you are. Why did you run off? Why are you crying?” You walked closer to her, wanting so badly to embrace her and wipe her tears away. But she backed off as soon as you advanced, holding her hands up to guard herself.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N...” you pleaded, hating the distance she was actively putting between you.

“I– I don’t know, Jake. I’m just…really umm…” she shook her head and wiped the tears that were steadily falling. She huffed a breath. “Why did you play that song? Why tonight? It wasn’t on the set list…”

You stopped for a second, trying to find the words you were unprepared to speak. “Because, Y/N, it’s still true and I couldn’t go another day without you knowing. I don’t know…I don’t know how else to tell you...”

“What do you mean it’s still true, Jake? I heard what Summer said just now. She was in your room…you did hook up with her.” she was trying her best to back away from you, pulling herself away toward the dressing room.

“Wait, baby please, just let me talk to you...” you pleaded, reaching for her hand and pulling her back.

She quickly pulled her hand from yours, just as you had done with Summer’s moments ago.

“Don’t…call me that Jake! Please…I–I’m not your baby.” She stood, face blank and upset, staring at you for some type of explanation.

Here came Josh, rounding the corner still on his high. “Hey, guys! Excellent show, hmm Y/N?” He threw her a wink, not knowing that the added song had absolutely destroyed her.

You felt like every cell in your body evaporated, tears threatening your own eyes seeing her cry and pull away from you. Again. You weren’t going to let this happen.

“Hey! Y/N! Come back here, right now. Please. Just fucking listen to me!” You stood in your place, pointing to the ground. The way she never let you explain yourself was starting to get to you, so you let yourself be a little bit stern. “Damnit, just let me talk!”

She crossed her arms, moving back to you in the corner of the hall, and raising her tear-soaked face to listen.

Okay.

“Did you not hear what I said to her just now? I told her I didn’t want her. I am over here searching for you. Not her. Yes I invited her to my room that night, but only because we were both drunk at the hotel bar, and she spilled her drink all over herself. I didn’t want people or the rest of the crew to see her a mess and embarrass herself on a professional level, so we went upstairs and I got her a shirt to change into.” you pause.

“She came back out, and things got a little heavy. We made out a little bit. That’s all, Y/N. I swear to you. You texted me right in the middle of everything, and it set off an alarm in my head. I knew I had messed up, I didn’t want her. I was just…drunk and… I don’t know. I don’t really have any excuses. But I did not sleep with her. We did not hook up. And now, she’s doing, well… You saw. I’m trying my best to make it known that I never want that to happen with her again. That it was a mistake. That she and I are strictly professional, nothing else.”

You sighed hard after your explanation, feeling good about everything you’d been harboring for a while, and that she finally let you speak. Now it was her turn.

“I’m sorry Jake. I’m so overwhelmed...I just– I feel so confused. Everything is moving so fast. You played that song tonight…my song, even though things have been so rocky between us lately... Then there is the thing with Sam…and now I feel so guilty about it. How I treated you, what we’ve put you through. You didn’t deserve that, Jake! You’ve been so steadfast. And I’m just making everything more complicated. I hate myself for it.” She relented, looking absolutely exhausted.

“Don’t ever say that you hate yourself, Y/N. There’s absolutely no reason for that.” you replied.

“But I do, I’ve fucked up more times than I can count. You don’t deserve that! I’m just feeling so…out of control. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly her radio beeped, signaling her to come to the stage.

She sighed as she looked up to you, “I’ve gotta go.”

She paced a few steps, wiping her face and slapping her cheeks, before turning around to you again. “I never thought I’d hear you play that song live.”

And she was gone…disappearing into the darkness again.

—

You returned to the hotel, everyone piling out of the vans and toward the main doors, all in search of a drink and some sustenance. You wracked your brain, reeling over what happened with Y/N backstage. She truly must be going through it. She did say she was overwhelmed, maybe you should give her some space. She will come back to you, she knows where to find you. And you weren’t giving up again. Playing the song tonight proved that to her.

You retreated to your room, feeling tired but hopeful. The show was excellent tonight. You decided a night in with some room service was just the ticket.

HER POV

You plopped down on the big comfy white comforter that laid across the bed of the hotel room, letting the effects of the rush of the evening settle in.

Another show night with no hiccups, killing it.

Another night crying over Jake and your own feelings, not killing it.

You rolled over, putting your head in your hands, reiterating everything Jake had said about Summer earlier. You believed him, of course you did. But now you felt guilty, horrible even, for not letting him explain himself earlier. You were embarrassed...he’d insinuated that you never let him talk, and it was true. You based all your judgments on what you saw and heard, and not what the true story was. You were so mad at yourself. The guilt was still so heavy.

You also hated that he felt like he had to explain his actions to you. He’s a grown man, with his own life, making his own decisions. He quite literally can sleep with whoever he wants, just as you slept with his brother, a lot, knowing all the while that he still loved you.

You didn’t have regrets, you and Sam were just living your lives how they came at the time. But now, for some reason, it felt heavier than that.

Jake’s words replayed in your mind.

‘It’s still true…’

Of course it was still true. It was true for the both of you. You grabbed your phone and texted Sam to see if he could talk.

You

11:47pm: Hey, once you get settled in, down for some company? I may or may not drink a whole bottle of wine tonight.

Keys

11:49pm: Hey there. I’m actually not feeling the best tonight. I think I’m going to hit the sack early.

You

11:50pm: Aw ok, do you need anything?

Keys

11:51pm: No no, I’m fine. Talk to you tomorrow

You

11:51pm: Night!

You knew this was out of character for Sam, especially since he acted completely fine loading up the vans.

You flipped through the channels on the TV, trying to distract yourself from the inner monologue taking up space in your mind.

“Ughhh…” you rolled over again to your back, really realizing you did need a drink.

You hopped up and changed into something comfy and casual, grabbed your purse and a room key, and headed down to the hotel bar. You felt like a few glasses of wine by yourself might be exactly what you needed.

You entered the double doors, finding Danny’s curly locks sat at the bar, mindlessly watching a baseball game. You took the seat next to him.

“Hey there, come here often?” You offered, breaking him from his gaze and making him laugh when he realized it was you.

“Hey girl, what are you doing here?” He said, helping you pull the heavy chair up to the bar with ease.

“Oh, just figured I’d come sit under some neon. Maybe order some greasy cheese fries and down a bottle of wine. The usual.” You grinned, grabbing the drink menu.

The bartender came and took your order, and a refill for Danny.

“You guys sounded phenomenal tonight. Seriously. It’s like each show gets better.” You said, sincerity in your voice.

“Thank you, that really means a lot.” He held his hand to his belly, just like he always did when he needed grounding. “We try.”

You smiled, taking a large sip of the sweet white moscato you’d opted for.

“That was quite the little stunt you guys pulled with adding the extra song in, though.” You said quietly, leaning into him.

“Hey, don’t blame me. That was all Jake’s idea. But, you probably knew that.” He was beaming.

You sighed. “Yeah, I knew that. I ended up a pile of emotions over it, too. I had to run away to the bathroom before I had a full-on breakdown.” You always felt like you could tell Danny exactly what was on your mind. Even since you were kids.

“I noticed you ran away. I get it, though. That was a big step for Jake.” He said.

You milled over his words. A big step. Here came the guilt again.

“He was super adamant about getting it on the setlist at the last minute.” Danny looked away from the TV and down to meet your eyes. “I’m not gonna lie, I’d almost forgotten how to play it.”

“Why did he do that, Danny?” You asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear it anyway.

Danny let out a big breath of air from his mouth. “You know how Jake is...he’s not the best with words. I think he wanted to communicate with you the best way he knew how. To play it for you. In front of thousands of people. He doesn’t normally do these things, ya know.”

You felt your heart stop beating.

“He’s really trying to prove it to you, Y/N. And if him playing that song for you after us not having played it in forever doesn’t prove anything to you, I don’t know what will.” he stated.

You felt the blood rush to your head, realizing that Jake must have confided in Danny a good bit.

“And I know you’re going to say ‘What about Summer’. Well, I was at the bar with them that night...Jake was already obliterated when he got there. He was in no shape to be having any more. But he did anyway. I’m not defending his actions, but… I know nothing serious happened with them. He probably hardly remembered where his own room was. He wouldn’t do that to you, Y/N. And I know he didn’t.”

You believed Danny. He had no reason to lie or cover for his friend.

You say for a few moments letting it sink in.

“Thanks, Danny. Really. You always make me feel better.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as the bartender brought your food and another round.

“Share with me?” You asked as the two of you dug in.

“I guess he…talked to you a little bit then?” You pressed.

He nodded, spinning his barstool around in little half-circles. “Yeah, he told me a good bit about everything. While you were gone on your trip, mostly. He told me about what happened with Summer and how awful he felt. He was seriously so mad at himself for even putting himself in that situation. Kept saying how much of a mistake he made just being there with her.”

You nodded in understanding. “I have just been feeling so whacked out lately. The guilt is eating me alive, just with Sam and everything. I feel so..conflicted..and I don’t know why. Everything is staring me in the face, isn’t it? I’m being crazy?”

He chuckled. “Mmm..yeah, maybe a little crazy. But. That’s what being in love does to a person.” You felt your insides warm up at his sentiment.

“He’s not gonna let up, Y/N. I hope you know that. He really meant what he said when he wrote that song.”

—

After one more drink and too many cheese fries, you retreated back to your room, feeling especially exhausted and needing some sleep before tomorrow. You grabbed your phone to set your alarm and check your emails one last time.

Your finger hovered over the messages button before you clicked it, bringing up your thread with Jake.

You

1:05am: Thank you for playing that song tonight. It meant way more than you know. I’m so sorry I blew up earlier. See you bright and early…

Jake

1:07am: I’ll play it everyday until you believe it.

You closed out the app, switched off the lamp, and fell into a deep slumber dreaming of dancing in the dark with Jake to a song written just for you.

NIGHT TWO

JAKE POV

Your eyes open, the light pouring in from the crack in the curtain causes you to squint. Your body is tired, and your hand is stiff. It usually is after a show. That you could always count on. You rolled over seeing the clock read 8:13 am. Not too bad. You’re getting better at this whole waking up early thing.

You grab your phone from the night stand, swiping away the notifications littering the screen, as you roll from the bed and make your way to the bathroom. You turn on your favorite playlist as you brush your teeth, and after a quick shower you emerge feeling fresh and ready for another long day.

You run your fingers through your hair, brushing out the tangles and letting it dry with its natural wave. You make your way to your suitcase, pulling out a pair of navy color boxers and sliding them over your legs. You continued to dig through your suitcase, starting to pull out clothes as you heard a knock at your door. You knew it was her. You could feel your body pulling you towards her even from behind the door.

You made your way to the door, twisting the lever and opening it up. God she is stunning.

“You know what? I’m impressed, two days in a row that I don’t have to drag you out of the bed?” she laughs.

I’d rather you drag me into it.

“I told you, I’m a morning person now. Officially.” you said, raising your eyebrow to her.

You motioned your head to invite her inside, opening the door fully, revealing your unclothed state.

“Jake!” she said, turning her head away, covering her eyes. She steps in, door latching behind her.

“Don’t get shy on me now. You’ve seen me in less than this…” you taunt.

“Jacob!” she yells.

“What, you know it’s true. There’s nothing to hide. Plus, I need your help.” you say, walking towards your suitcase.

She plants herself on the end of your bed, resting back onto her hands, tossing you an intrigued expression.

“I don’t know what to wear today. I know we have interviews this morning…” you say digging through your suitcase.

“Okay, first, jeans or these pants?” you ask, holding up both.

“Mmm, the pants.” she answers. You slide the pants over your legs, fastening the button before turning back to the suitcase.

You grab two shirts, holding them up to let her see them, “Okay, now, this one? Or….” you switch to the other shirt, “...this one?” you ask, holding them both up now.

“Jake, it doesn’t matter, you look good in anything you wear.” she says, standing up, and walking over to the dresser. She looks through your selection of sunglasses, picking a pair and turning back to face you, “The blue one…with these.” she says holding them out to you.

You slide the shirt over your head, fastening the buttons just enough that it doesn't fall off of you, before reaching to grab the sunglasses from her hand. You slide them into the pocket of your shirt as you step closer to meet her. Your eyes travel down to the gold necklace around her neck. You notice the chain is twisted, exposing the tiny clasp, and without thinking, you bring your hands up to twist it back into the correct place, letting your fingers glide over her collarbones. “But you know your opinion matters the most…” you reply, flicking your eyes up to hers as you remove your hands from her skin.

You look at the necklace hanging perfectly against her, storing the image away in the back of your mind. “You ready to go?” you ask.

“Are you?” she replies, watching you slide on your shoes.

You toss her a quick smile as you walk over to the dresser grabbing your phone and wallet, shoving them both in your pocket. She walks over to the door, and you make a pit stop in the bathroom, spraying yourself with cologne, before stepping back out to meet her at the door.

As she walks over the threshold she turns to you, “You smell…good.”

You close the hotel room door behind yourself, smirking as you test the lock. “Yeah? It’s still kinda new. Seeing if I like this one.” you answer, walking next to her as you make your way to the elevators.

“I… think you like it.” she says in a flirty tone, sending you a soft playful smile.

Oh.

You turn to her, and raise your eyebrows, “I think you like it.” you laugh.

“And if I do?” she says, stepping in through the elevator doors.

You step in in front of her, pressing the button for the lobby, before moving to stand at her side. You pull your sunglasses from your pocket, and slide them on your face as you look at her, “Then that’s good enough for me.”

—

Arriving at the venue you head first to check in with your tech, finding him setting the tuning on the acoustic for tonight's show.

“Hey man, I’m gonna need number 1 in about an hour.” you say, flashing him a thumbs up as you start to walk away.

He nods and continues working as you make your way to the green room to meet up with everyone else. You step in to see Y/N, running over the schedule with Sam, Josh and Daniel making drinks and Summer, working on her computer. You meet Josh and Daniel near the makeshift bar area, and take a look to see what the selections are.

“Anything good?” you ask.

“Ehh, same old same old.” Daniel answers.

You grab one of the beers sitting on ice, and pop the tab turning back towards the couch. Summer sees you sit down and turns her attention to you.

“Jake, let’s film a tik tok or something…” she asks.

You turn to face her, “Mmmmmmmm…pass. Not my thing.” you answer.

“Come on, people want to see you, it’s literally every single comment.” she presses.

“Give them Sam, he’s close enough, and he loves to be the center of attention…” you say, before raising your voice loud enough so he could hear you, “Don’t you Sammy?”

“Huh?” he snaps towards you.

“Summer wants you to go film a tik tok with her.” you say gesturing towards her.

“Ohhh! Actually I have a good idea. Hey Daniel…” he yells, trailing off in his own thoughts. You laugh to yourself, as you successfully evade yet another tik tok attempt.

Summer gets up and walks over to meet Sam and Daniel, walking with them as they step outside, leaving you, Josh and Y/N alone in the room.

Josh finishes making his drink and walks over to you, sipping the drink as he raises his eyebrows to you. You know what he’s asking. You shrug your shoulders and toss him a smirk. He nods and pulls the glass from his lips. “I’m gonna go check with Jenn, about something, I’ll be right back.” he says, making strides towards the door.

You scoff, knowing he was up to his usual scheming. He had been all weekend. You knew he was supposed to be next to you on that plane yesterday. You even watched as he sweet talked the ticket agent, not fully realizing what he was doing at the time. But it suddenly became clear as you spotted your seat on the plane. You needed to remember to thank him for that.

As the door shut behind him you saw Y/N’s head snap at the sound. Her eyes shifted to you, and she set her iPad down, to join you on the couch.

“You have an interview soon.” she said, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch.

You checked the time on your phone, “Mmm in a little bit…”

“Does it ever get old, them asking you the same questions over and over?” she asks, pulling her phone from her pocket.

“Very. It’s been years, you would think they could come up with some original material by now.” you laugh.

She smiles, “Well, luckily this one is about your guitars, so it shouldn’t be that bad.” she winks.

“Did you just wink at me?” you ask playfully, throwing a pillow at her.

She picks it up and throws it back at you as she stands up, “Might have. What are you gonna do about it, Kiszka?” she says playfully, grabbing her iPad from the table.

“Careful darlin’...would hate to have to show you.” you warn playfully.

She makes her way to the door, opening it up before turning back to you, “Would you?” She smirks.

“Not in the slightest.” you answer.

She shakes her head and lets the door shut behind her.

—

After an exhausting day of interviews it was finally time to do what you were here for. Grabbing the olive green suit from the rack you locked the door and stripped down. This suit was one of your favorites you designed. You had always wanted a green suit. The moths and moons were Josh’s idea and when you pitched the idea to the designer, she drew it up, and brought it to life.

You slid the pants over your bare legs, fastening the clasp at your waist, and throwing the jacket over your shoulders. You took your necklace off, putting on the gold one the stylist picked for you. It was nice, but it wasn’t yours. It just didn’t carry that same familiar weight. You slid yours into your coat pocket, for safekeeping.

Taking a look at yourself in the mirror, you smiled. It was a shame that tonight would be the last time you wear this. Looking again, you rolled the hem of your pants just enough to look out of place, silently smiling to yourself.

You throw back the rest of your whiskey, setting the empty glass on the counter just before opening the door to meet the guys.

Stepping into the room with the rest of them, you see everyone dressed and ready to go, with only ten minutes until stage. You all take your pre show shots, and huddle up for your pep talk. You’ve never skipped it. Not once since the band came together. It quickly became a ritual, and something you all looked forward to each night. Almost like a promise of a good show.

As you began to make your way out the door one by one, you waited to be the last one, reveling in those few minutes alone with her, aching to feel her touch as she fixed your outfit. Was it crazy to purposely mess up your outfit each night just so that she would fix it? Probably. But you weren’t going to stop if it meant even a minute alone with her.

You stepped up, waiting to see how long it would take her to find it. You wondered if she knew you were doing it on purpose, or if she really thought you were that unobservant. Her eyes flashed to yours as she looked you over, and then she saw it.

Sinking down slowly in front of you, she dragged her fingertips down your stomach, the breath suddenly absent from your lungs. Her eyes never left yours as she uncuffed the hem of your pants, smoothing her hand down your leg before standing back up to tug at your lapels.

“You’re going to have to start getting more creative, Jacob. Two can play this game.”

“Oh trust me, I’m only thinking of the ways I can see you like that again.” you say, stepping out and down the steps, tossing her a smug grin over your shoulder.

But then you stop, turning to face her as she’s hot on your heels, stopping abruptly as she collides with you. You reached into your coat pocket, pulling out the silver necklace, “Hold on to this for me?” you ask, placing it around her neck, watching as it slipped through the neck of her shirt, falling right down the center of her chest.

Fuck.

You send her a wink, and turn to head towards the stage before she can respond. Trying to conceal the boner threatening to pop, you push her from your mind and focus on the set. You grab your guitar from your tech and wait on the steps for your cue.

“You look flushed, Jacob.” Josh grins.

“Whiskey.” you reply through clenched teeth.

“I’m sure…” he says with a shake of his head. He pushes his monitors into his ears, prompting you to do the same just as you step on to the stage. The crowd is just as large as the previous night, even a few familiar faces in the crowd.

Situating your guitar on your hips you plug into your pick up and grab a pick from the amp. The crowd is so loud you can hear the muffled screams through the noise canceling feature of your in-ear.

Josh begins to talk to the crowd as you make your way to your pedal board, ready to go at his signal. You turn to look at Sam and Danny who are waiting for yours. With a quick look from Josh, you stomp the talk back pedal and look at Daniel.

The amps roar to life with the music being pumped through them, the vibrations filling your entire body. No feeling like it.

Josh began to sing as you played along to what was one of your favorite songs on the album. You loved watching the fans as they sang the words along with him. But what you loved even more was when you would make eye contact with one of them, and they would lose their mind. It was funny every time.

You played well tonight, hitting every note clearly and with intention. You played through the first part of the set with ease, knowing it was only a matter of time until you would get your second chance to play to her. For her.

Glancing over to the side stage you made eye contact with your tech who motioned to you that the switch was next. When the song ended, he ran out with the acoustic and a stool, taking the electric for a quick tune up.

Plugging in, you situate yourself on the stool, and look over to Josh as you begin to strum out the chords. You look out to the crowd to watch them all realize what you’re playing, and scream with excitement. Rightfully so.

Listening to Josh sing out the words of feelings long ago, you look to the side stage, hoping for that special moment with her again, but to your surprise she isn’t there. You pull the pick from between your lips, as he reaches the chorus, and with another glance you still don’t see her.

Where are you?

You scan the crowd, and soundbooth, but still nothing. As the song draws to a close you strum out the final notes, and pray that wherever she was she heard them.

The rest of the set is electric, the crowd absolutely buzzing with excitement. Josh was having one of his best nights vocally, that he had in a while. Everything was going well until the end of When The Curtain Falls, when Sam's bass line dropped out of nowhere. Panic shot across his face as he checked his knobs and fiddled with his pick up.

With no luck, he looked over to you, as an ‘SOS’ and you tried to distract from the malfunction with an extended solo. You’re sure no one really noticed but the look on Sam’s face was lethal. You watched as his tech ran on stage and grabbed the bass, leaving him to play his bass keys.

At the very end of the song, the tech ran back out with his bass, and he took back control of his bass line. You knew he hated when things like this would happen, and you were thankful there were only two songs left on the setlist.

Luckily there were no more problems after that, ending the second night in Bridgeport on a high note. You never wanted to leave the crowd when they were like this. Begging you to stay and play just one more. You wished you could stay, but there always had to come a farewell.

You rushed off the stage, handing your guitar to your tech and running down the stairs. There was a whole sea of people backstage, and you couldn’t see her anywhere. Who are all these fucking people?

Crossing the back of the stage area you see her. Finally. But the conversation she’s having doesn’t look to be a pleasant one. It’s her, Sam and his tech and likely discussing the issue that came about during the set. Sam is talking with his hands, which usually means he is pissed, and you knew now would not be a good time to interject.

You made your way back to the dressing room, pulling the door open to find Josh and Daniel, already pouring a drink.

“Make it a double.” you laugh.

“Sam pissed?” Daniel asks.

“Definitely, just saw him and Y/N having a chat with Phil. Didn’t look like they were discussing the weather.” you joke.

Josh walks over to you and hands you the drink he’s made you, “Sounded good tonight brother. Had a little pep in your step.” he smiles.

“You know, I was thinking you sounded good tonight too.” you reply.

He breathes in deeply, “Ahhh, something about the salt air…” he says trailing off.

“Okay, if you two are done stroking each other's egos, I think I’m gonna change.” Daniel says.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did we leave you out? You sounded perfect as usual tonight Danny.” you say sarcastically.

“Don’t patronize me asshole, you should be thanking me.” he offers, pulling his shirt over his head, and hanging it on the hanger.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, nevermind. Go ahead with your ego stroking.” he laughs.

Hmm. You needed to ask him about that later.

Seconds later Sam is bursting into the room, a scowl on his face as he throws himself into a chair.

“Drink?” Daniel asks him.

“How many do we have? Give me all of them!” he snaps.

Daniel tosses him a drink, hearing the lid pop open as he chugs it down.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Phil said he didn’t know, that it was an anomaly. Everything was working fine. Said maybe there was a kink in the line… Either way, it was bullshit.” he snapped.

“It’s all good man, I don’t think anyone noticed.” you say.

“No. People noticed.” he seethes.

Y/N comes walking through the door seconds later, collecting up items to return to their cases.

“You know the drill, suits on hangers in the case outside the door. Van will be here in a few, and you’re free to go.” she says, looking around the room.

Everyone tosses her their best acknowledgement, and she turns to walk back out the door. You have half a mind to follow her, but you let her go. You know how much needs to get done before she can enjoy the rest of her night.

—

After you’re all changed, and the cases are packed you all begin to make your way to the van, walking and talking about the next show next week. Walking across the lot you see Sam step off and answer a phone call. You can hear him trying to talk quietly, but due to his genetics he fails miserably.

As your bags are being loaded into the van you watch as he dials a number making another phone call. He steps behind a tree, leaning into it as he spoke. You couldn’t exactly make out what he was saying but the words, ‘guest’ and ‘Chicago’ were definitely in there somewhere.

You climbed into the van, leaving empty seats next to you, and pulled your phone from your pocket. When the van was loaded and Y/N wasn’t on it, you decided to send her a text.

You

11:20pm: You coming?

LD:

11:23pm: No, still wrapping up. Don’t wait on me. I can grab an Uber.

You:

11:24pm: Don’t walk alone. Call me if you need to. I’m serious.

With that the van was pulling away and heading towards the hotel. Part of you wanted to stay. Make sure she got back okay. But it was too late.

“You guys wanna grab a drink at the bar when we get back?” Daniel asks.

“No, I think I’m going to bed.” Sam answers.

Bizarre, when has Sam turned down a nightcap?

“I could do one, then I think I’m gonna hit the sack myself. It’s been a long fucking day.” you answer.

“One. We leave early in the morning.” Josh says.

“Alright. It’s settled.” Daniel agrees.

—

As you arrived back at the hotel, each of you made your way inside, dropping your bags in your rooms and agreeing to meet down at the bar. Sam stayed true to his word, retiring to his room for the night, and you really began to question if something was wrong with him.

After a drink at the bar, you all parted ways, returning to your rooms for the night. You checked your phone, but the screen was blank. Damn it’s almost midnight, where is she?

Maybe she was already back. Maybe she didn’t want to call you.

You began to strip down, tossing your clothes into your suitcase as you made your way to the shower. You turned the knob waiting for the water to get hot as you started to pack away your toiletries.

As you stepped into the steaming hot water you let it relax your tired muscles, again paying attention to the ache setting into your hand, your little daily reminder. You washed away the night, and were ready to sleep off the whiskey swirling through your system.

You step out of the shower, quickly running the towel over your hair and skin to dry the water dripping down your body. You wrap the towel around your waist until it sits tightly around you, as you brush your fingers through your hair.

Walking back into the bedroom you approach your suitcase and as you begin to sift through for something clean you hear a knock at the door.

You turn to look towards it, lifting your attention from the suitcase. You situate the towel around your waist as you walk towards the door, wondering which one of the guys it was, and what they wanted.

Twisting the lock on the door you turn the lever, revealing not one of the guys at all. It was her.

You held the door open in surprise, staring at her as she spoke, “Seems I have something that belongs to you.” she smiles.

You furrow your brow, as you motion her inside, letting the door shut behind her.

“If this is a bad time I can go. I just wanted to give you this.” she says, lifting your necklace over her head.

“No!” you say, far too quickly. “I mean, it’s not a bad time, I was just getting out of the shower.” you say.

You grab the necklace from her fingers, pulling it over your head, still warm from resting on her skin. The familiar weight, comforting on your neck.

“Thank you…for bringing it back, I know it's late. You could have just given it to me in the morning.” you offer.

“I could have…but.” she shrugged.

You pulled a pair of sweats from your suitcase, stepping into the bathroom, and pulling them on. You returned quickly and positioned yourself at the head of the bed, leaning into the pillows.

“If you’re tired I can let you go to sleep…” she trails off, looking at the floor.

“Hey…” you say, causing her eyes to meet yours. “Come sit.”

She bites her lip and walks to the other side of the bed, placing herself next to you. She lets out a sigh as she rests her back into the pillows.

“You okay? You seem like the one that needs to sleep.” you smirk.

“I’m okay, it’s just been a long day.” she answers. It's quiet for a moment as you watch her eyes flutter closed.

She turns her head to face you, “Jake?” she asks.

You look back at her, “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you about Summer.” she says quietly.

You nod your head, accepting her apology, “You know I would never do anything to hurt you right?” you ask.

She blinked slowly a few times, you could tell she was replaying the memory in her head.

“I was scared Jake…I didn’t know how to feel. I thought…” she trailed off, trying to find the words.

“How could you ever think that anyone would compare to you?” you say.

It’s quiet for a few seconds before she turns to look at you again, “When did you write that song?” she asks.

Your breath catches in your throat as you think back to that memory, stored away in the deepest depths of your brain. You clear your throat and wet your lips as you try to find the words. “Well…” you sigh, “...I wrote that song about three days before you left me. I couldn’t wait to get back and play it for you. I never got to…”

She fidgets with the skin around her fingers as she takes in what you’re saying, staying completely silent.

“I know…” she whispers, finally.

“It kind of took on a new meaning after everything…but somehow the words were still...fitting. Like it knew its fate before I did.” you add. “I sang it with Josh at every show.”

“And it’s…still true?” she asks.

You turn your body to face her, “Y/N, it’s more true now than it was even then.”

Her hand reaches for yours, her fingertips grazing your skin as her eyes lock with yours. You grab her hand, lacing her fingers together with yours, that same electric feeling traveling through you, like it always has.

“It will never not be true.” you whisper.

“I believe you…” she says, moving towards you in what feels like slow motion, her hand resting into your cheek as she presses her lips to yours. Her lips feel exactly like you remember, warm and soft and just like home.

You released her hand from yours, bringing both of your hands to her face, letting your fingers wind into her hair at her temples. You pulled her towards you, as your lips parted, her eyes flashing open to look into yours. You never thought you’d get to see her like this again. So close, you could see your own eyes reflecting into hers.

She leans forward pressing her lips to yours again, causing a euphoric explosion of passion to bloom within your chest. She wants you. This was it. You had your girl back. Every second apart from her led to this moment with her now. It wasn’t easy, but goddamn it was worth it.

You slid your tongue across her bottom lip, begging for just a taste of the girl you loved. The girl you thought of day in and day out for years. The one you wrote about. The one you sang about. To finally have her again made you feel like maybe all of the suffering was worth it.

Her lips parted and her tongue reached out for yours, the tangling of the two together dancing like a moth around a flame. But you were the moth, and she was the flame, and you’d burn for her everytime.

As the kiss deepened, you rolled her to her back, holding your weight on your arms over her head as you kneeled over her. You pulled away from her, her lips pink and swollen, and her hair laying around her face like a shimmering halo. You took in the sight of her like this, after all these years, so different now, yet somehow you could still see underneath it all, the girl you knew back then. The one who loved you before all of this.

Her hand drifted up your bare torso, and circled around your neck, pulling you towards her, connecting your lips once more and in that moment, every ounce of exhaustion left your body. You would stay here, like this with her, until your body gave out.

You kissed her, over and over, letting every pent up emotion spill out of you and onto her lips, hoping she could feel how much you loved her. As you pulled away from her once again, you stopped and looked into her eyes dark with want, as you prepared to bare your soul, “Y/N, I lo–” you started, but you were cut off by the sound of her cell phone ringing in her pocket.

You saw the look on her face change, she sat up suddenly, looking around the room, pulling the phone from her pocket. She flashed the screen to you, and answered the call. As she spoke you gathered that someone in the crew had a problem with their flight, but as usual she handled it perfectly. You really were in awe of her. A few minutes later she hung up the call, and looked at you but her expression had changed.

You reached your hand towards her face, desperate to touch her again, but her hand caught your wrist, stopping you before you made contact. Her eyes began to fill with tears and her lips started to tremble.

No.

“Jake…” she starts, in a tone all too familiar, chilling you to your core.

“No.” you beg, shaking your head, “Don’t. Don’t say it Y/N.”

“Jake we can’t…” she says, voice cracking with emotion.

“No, no, no, no, no. We can. Baby, please we can.” you say, holding on to her as she sat in front of you.

“You can’t call me baby, Jake. We can’t do this. This–This is the exact same thing that happened with Summer. The same thing you turned her down for. I work for you too…We…have to stay professional. This is my job…” she says through choked sobs, tears slipping from her eyes.

“No, this is–this is different! This has nothing to do with work or Summer or any of that. This is me and this is you. Us! Right here! Nothing else.” you say placing your hand around the back of her neck, cupping the side of her face.

She leans into your hand, tears slipping faster from her eyes. “What about Sam?” she cries.

“Fuck Sam! Sam will understand! He has always known that this is how it would end for you two. Tell me you don’t feel this between us! Tell me you haven’t chased that feeling since the very first time we met! Or, tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop. I’ll leave you alone. You just have to tell me Y/N!” you press.

“I…I don’t know Jake!” she cries. “I want this job! I need this job! We can’t do this while I’m working for you! It makes me no better than Summer, and it makes you a hypocrite!”

You pull away from her, standing up to pace the room before settling on the wall. “You don’t know?! I think you do know! Don’t tell me you don’t fucking want this. I know you do. You fucking told me Y/N! You don’t remember it but I’ll never forget it!” you yell pointing towards her. “You’re lying to yourself and it’s killing you. It's eating you alive! It’s killing me and it’s killing you.”

“What do you mean I told you?” she asks, standing up from the bed.

“Two nights ago. Do you remember asking me to stay with you after dinner? After I put you in bed? You wanted to hear me play for you? Wanted me to talk to you?” you ask.

She shakes her head, “I don’t. Not much, bits and pieces. I mean, maybe if I think really hard, it’s still so fuzzy Jake… I… don’t remember.”

You scoff, nodding your head, “Yeah. I know. But I fucking remember Y/N. I laid with you as you fell asleep next to me, telling me you loved me. You fucking told me Y/N!”

She pushes past you and walks towards the door, but you stop her, grabbing her waist and twisting her to face you. “I know you meant it. I know this is what you want. Why are you denying yourself Y/N?”

Her eyes are darting around the room, full of tears and refusing to look at you. You can see her battling herself.

“Look at me.” you plead, but she doesn’t.

“Look at me Y/N!” you scream, lifting your hand, slamming it against the wall, with a loud smack, and as it collides with the sheetrock, you see her cower away from you.

Oh fuck. What have I done?

For someone you knew and loved so deeply, how quickly you had forgotten about her scars. The same ones that caused your own.

You release her immediately and step backwards shaking your head, “Baby…I’m…I’m so sorry. I would never–” you stop yourself, knowing you are only doing more harm. She does her best to control the sob wracking from her chest. Her face is filled with panic, your actions no doubt bringing her back to some of the worst days of her life. How could you?

Her eyes finally meet yours, and you hope she knows that you would never lay a finger on her. You pray she knows how much you love her. You reach your hand out to hers, a few silvery scars still visible on your palms. She blinks away the tears as she places her hand in yours, stepping closer to you. You intertwine your fingers with hers, taking a deep breath as you speak.

“Y/N…It feels like I’m… drowning. No matter how hard I try to swim towards you, I just keep getting carried further down... All I want is to move forward but it seems like I’m fighting for this by myself. I’ve done nothing but chase you my whole life. You’re it for me, Y/N. You’re my end game. You always have been. But I can’t keep doing this by myself. I need you. I need your help. I’m drowning without you.” you plead. The memory of your dream just a few weeks ago, suddenly finding its meaning.

She steps into your arms, wrapping herself around your neck. You feel her fingertips as they dig into your skin, holding you tightly to her as if it's the last time she’ll ever have the chance. You wrap your arms tightly around her, breathing her in the way you dreamt of everyday for years. Placing your hand on her head you wind your fingers into her hair, pull her face into your neck, and hold her there as she sobs.

“I’m sorry Jake…” she says, stepping away from you. Your face drops.

She’s still leaving. It wasn’t enough. You aren’t enough.

As she turns to walk towards the door, you feel your heart plummet into your stomach at the thought of losing her again. She turns to look at you over her shoulder as the tears fall from her red swollen eyes. Twisting the lever on the door, she opens it and hesitates. You walk to meet her there, as she steps into the hallway.

Through the lump in your throat you manage to speak, “How many times do I have to watch you leave me?”

Your words only make her tears fall harder. She sniffles as she walks down the hallway towards the elevator, and you watch her slip away through the doors. As your chest tightens you feel yourself slipping under the water, telling yourself that you might not make it to the surface this time.

You realize then, that maybe it wasn’t a dream at all, maybe it was a warning.

—

HER POV

The walk down the hallway was a blur, searching for your room key was nearly impossible…each room and corridor you entered was spinning more quickly than the last. The fluorescent lights were radiating down so brightly that you had to shield your eyes from them. Your head was spinning, the dizziness making you feel physically ill. You were beginning to cry harder than you were in Jake’s room.

Somehow, at last, you managed to unlock your room door and push yourself inside. Finally able to weep in peace, you fell to your knees on the floor, completely falling apart. The sobs escaping your chest were loud and chopped, and you could hardly open your eyes enough to see around you. The world was shattering, your world was tumbling down a mountainside at 100 miles an hour, plummeting straight for a ledge with nothing but the abyss below it.

You allowed yourself to cry. To feel the pain you’d been inflicting on yourself for months. You let it envelop you. You let it punish you. You were going to beat yourself up over this. And no one could stop you.

You had caused your own problem. You had gotten in your own way of finally being with the love of your life.

You ended up falling asleep right there on the floor, in the fetal position beside the bed. You woke up to find all the lights still on, purse beside you, and all of your clothing still on. You slowly drug yourself up from your humble place of self-loathing, crawling into the bathroom to strip down and prepare yourself for bed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in the mirror, feeling too ashamed to even look yourself in the eye.

You found clothes that would do, turned out most of the lights, checked your phone, and fell into bed. You’d been lying on the floor for two hours.

Your mind began to race again replaying everything...remembering the look on Jake’s face when you left was enough to make you want to lose every memory you ever had.

You brought your fingers to your lips, gently touching them, wanting to savor the feeling of Jake’s lips on them just a few short hours ago. You peeked your tongue out, tasting him still there. The kiss..It had felt so absolutely right, like nothing else in the world could be more true than you in each others’ arms, finally feeling again what you both had missed so badly. What you both craved. He was your end game, too. You just had a giant road block staring you in the face.

You knew you’d made the right decision professionally, but at what cost? There was no way you were going to let him make himself out to be hypocritical, and you weren’t going to lose the best job you’ve ever had. Stupid contract technicalities. He could end up getting in trouble, too. Breaking the rules like that was frowned upon, even when it was from his side of the party. How could this work?

It couldn’t. There was no way around it.

You decided to text Sam, hoping that he would be awake at this late hour. You even sent double messages, hoping the noise would jar him from his sleep.

You

2:42am: Hey, sorry if I wake you. Can I come over? I really need to talk

You

2:45am: Sam wake up :(

You

2:50am: Where are you? Are you okay?

You waited…but got nothing in return. Figures. He’s been so distant lately…

You closed your eyes, hoping to find a bit of relief in letting them see nothing but darkness for a while. But in the hilarious, twisted, trickery of your subconscious, all you saw was Jake’s face.

After a few minutes, your phone buzzed in your hand.

Thank God, Sammy. You glanced down to find a name that you didn’t expect.

Jake

2:56am: I meant everything I said tonight. I don’t regret a single word. You can leave or stay, but just know I’ll love you until the day I die.

Tears welled up again. You thought back to the kiss, how at home you felt in his arms, the passionate glow of attraction you felt deep in your bones for him while your lips danced and your hands explored again for the first time in too many years. How he was going to utter the words you’d been longing to hear for so long, only to be interrupted by the sound of duty calling.

He truly still wanted you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

——

The next morning, the sun came through the curtains of your hotel room, burning onto your face and eyelids. Normally you would love this feeling, but right now you just wanted to lie in darkness until someone had to physically drag you out of bed.

You begrudgingly went through the motions of pulling yourself out of bed, to standing in the shower while your limbs performed the necessary tasks to clean yourself. You let your brain tune to autopilot as you chose clothing to suit the day, and you mindlessly gathered all your things together into your suitcase, dreading the day of travel.

Where the hell is Sam? You need your best friend right now.

You checked your phone reluctantly, truly not even wanting to pick it up for the rest of the day. But to your surprise you had a handful of texts from Sam.

Keys

7:55am: Hey! Are you okay? I’m sorry I missed your texts

Keys

7:58am: Do you want me to come down?

Missed Call

8:00am: Keys

Keys

8:03am: Helllooooo…Y/N? You have me worried…

You immediately hit the button to call him. It only rang once before he picked up.

“Hey Sammy. Sorry I blew up your phone last night.” You said, exhaustion heavy in your voice.

“Hey, it’s alright, don’t worry about it. What is wrong? You sound awful…” he asked with concern.

“I had...a really bad night. Can we talk for a minute?” You asked, suddenly feeling like you were imposing with how little you’d talked in the past couple of days.

“Yeah, yes. I’m on my way. What’s your room number?” He asked.

“Actually, I’m already coming down your hallway. See you in a second.” You answered, hanging up the phone.

He was already standing in his doorway looking for you when you turned the corner, a solemn but cheerful expression on his face. He was in nothing but a pair of shorts, and had his hair back in a messy bun.

“I already know that look, and it usually involves my brother.” He said as you approached him. He brought you in for a hug. “Did he make you sad, Y/N? Do I need to whoop his ass?”

You chuckled, feeling a smile hit your face for the first time in hours. He opened the door wider, allowing you to step into his room.

“First of all, are you okay? You’re not still feeling sick?” You asked.

He turned toward you with his hands in his pockets, “Uh no, I’m good. Feeling great now, actually.”

The two of you sat in the living area of the hotel room, facing each other on the couch. You huffed, not really knowing where to begin. You wanted to lay everything out on the line for him, tell him what happened last night, and hope that he could give you some sort of direction. But at the same time, you hoped you weren’t about to break his heart.

“I know that you can probably feel that things are sort of…changing a bit between all of us, and I just want to start out by saying that I don’t want you to be upset with me or him about…you know.” You said, trying to insinuate about the situation between you and him, and you and Jake.

“I know...Y/N. I get it. You don’t have to explain that part. We had that conversation before we started this, remember?” He smiled reassuringly, resting his head on his fist against the back of the couch. “Just good friends.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, “Ok. Well, to make a really long story short, we kind of had a…moment last night, finally. Perfect, amazing, everything feeling just like it used to, you know? But we got interrupted by my work phone and I had to take it. It basically set off an alarm in my head that what we were doing was wrong. I work for you guys, he’s my boss. I literally signed a contract saying I wouldn’t do this. I could lose my job over this, Sammy. And he could get in a lot of trouble, too.” you paused.

“So I stopped, we stopped everything. I told him we couldn’t do this. There was no way. He got mad, Sam. Not at me, just… mad at the situation, I think. It was awful. We were both crying and yelling at each other. Right when it felt like everything was going to be okay again.”

He stared at you, furrowing his brow and tossing your words around in his head. He bit his bottom lip, and finally spoke, “Ok, wait. Let me get this straight.” He sat up on the couch, bringing his hands into the conversation, something he always did when he was trying to get his point across.

“You and Jake were in love for a hundred years... We all thought it was going to be you guys, forever and always amen, yada yada. You leave us, no contact, no goodbye, no nothing. Then you randomly find us in a brand new city by accident and are already employed by us. On accident! Nevermind all the you and me stuff…” he shook his hands and head at the mention of your relationship.

“Then, Jake dumps his witchy girlfriend because you’re finally back in his life, you brought him back to his happy place, and he thought he would have a chance again. You guys flirt continuously, he’s finally back to his old self, he’s playing guitar better than I have ever seen him play before…you guys what, almost hook up last night? Get all your feelings out? Speak your truths? And now you still don’t think it will work? Because of a job?” he asks, voice thick with confusion.

You nod your head. “Sam, this is my dream job. The career I’ve always worked toward. I’m happy doing this, it’s where I want to be. But I also want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in the world…but I can’t have both. I can’t have my cake and eat it too.”

He stared at you in disbelief, hands still floating questioningly in the air.

“Y/N, I think you’re thinking about this all wrong…you’re not looking at the bigger picture here.” He smiled, and began to laugh through his words. He spoke like he already had all of the answers, and was confused as to why you didn’t.

Just then, you heard the vent that had been running in the bathroom switch off, turning your attention to the door. You looked back to Sam, startled with perplexity written in your eyes.

He dropped his hands, then brought them back up to glide through his hair. He met your eyes, and gave you a knowing smile.

“Y/N, I know you know someone else is in here...and I think you’re going to be really happy about it.” he says.

You were stunned and confused. Who the hell? Is it another girl? Is this why he’s been so distant?

Just then, the bathroom door opened, revealing a gorgeous little petite thing with wavy brown locks. She smiled shyly as she gave you a tiny wave.

The room spun in slow motion around you as you finally narrowed in, your mouth dropping at the sight of her face.

“Elle…”

Part 12

Taglist:

@gretavansara@jordie-gvf-admin@starshine-wagner@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@eyelinerjake@misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust@raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @indigostreakmorgan@jakemarrymeibeg@fakeplastiqtree@radmads-gvf @fwzco @katelynn-gvf @writingcold @jakesgrapejuice @jakekiszkasbabymama @emsfallingsky @gretavanbear @ejoygvf @beebloopbleep @mackalah @weneedsomehealing123 @reesetrippingthelight @lightmylove-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf

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mvnsvn6 · 6 months

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texan Eddie thirsting over Steve

wc:560 cw: none

Living near the Gulf of Mexico has a lot of perks.

Eddie prefers it to living in northern Texas, where him and his Ma were at, where the heat is dry instead of humid, the sun about dries him out like a piece of jerky.

Nothing beats sitting on his trailer porch sharing a cigar with his old man Wayne, other hand holding a sweating beer, hair gets big and frizzy, sunk down on a beach chair in a pair of blue denim jeans, and a sweat-stained wife-beater.

Even better, his most favorite weather, when there's light drizzling all day, like the sky has turned into a mist machine that sprays cool rain wherever he goes, while the sun remains smiling mighty bright. The green is green out here. The prettiest green you'll ever see.

Nah, see, the gulf has it's scary hurricanes and tornado warnings every once in awhile but nothing beats heading out to the beach and catching sight of a dolphin or two.

Not too far from Corpus Christi is a little place called Galveston Island where the buildings look straight out of an old western movie. He loves driving in his truck past all of the beach houses that are raised off the ground and finding neat sea shells that cover the sand.

Eddie was an adventurous child, so surprising, but now, living right here, like this, taking care of Wayne? Yeah a quiet life like this one couldn't get any better.

Certainly helps that there's a nice view across the trailer park.

A view where moles span bronze tanned skin, muscles flex and relax from turning a wrench thats working some thingamajig on a motorcycle, Eddie doesn't know shit about shit like cars. Big hands are covered in grease and oil, an almost black towel from said grease lays on a wide set of shoulders, that connect to a plush and hairy chest. And that chest connects to a hairy stomach, and a happy trail that leads to–.

"Ya starin' at that boy again?"

Eddie whips his head towards Wayne.

"Uhhh, no. Definitely not, don' know what you're talkin' bout, Wayne."

Wayne hides his smirk by pulling a swig from his beer, the smug bastard. He chances another look at the man out of the corner of his eye.

God almighty, Eddie’s never seen a man so sexy. Someone put him out of his misery.

"Hey, Steve! My nephew's lookin' for some help with his truck, do ya mind?"

Eddie mutters out a quiet, "Yer a son of a bitch, Wayne." He sinks further in chair, cowboy hat tipping down. Wayne just smiles bigger.

Steve looks up from he was focused on his bike and pushes his hair back from his face, using his hands to shield his eyes from the sun to see them. God, his biceps are huge, and fuck, his armpit hair is showing, jesus christ.

Eddie is but a weak, weak man, when faced with another man covered in thick, dark hair.

"'Course, sir! Y'all mind if I steal a beer or two when I come over?"

Jesus. Who needs a sun when Steve's around and has a billion wattz smile? It's making Eddie's insides all warm and gooey, somebody call an ambulance.

"That's no problem, son."

Anyway, yeah, living near the gulf in southern Texas, in a trailer park with Wayne. Well, that ain't too bad.

#cowboy eddie #yes im waxing poetic about hairy steve harrington again #texan eddie #stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #ficlet #stranger things fic #steddie ficlet #my writing

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lanasblood · 11 months

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𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘 | Prologue

pairing: neteyam x f!reader

summary: after fate brought you to awa’atlu and you felt hope for the first time in so long, the sea became the lonely witness of a bittersweet love, making you quickly realize how life withers as fast as it blossoms. [takes place five years after the events of atwow, neteyam is alive]

warning: this story will make you cry. read at your own risk.

read first chapter →

voice-over by @neteyamfromwish (scroll down for details) 🔊 volume up + use headphones for best experience 🎧✨

note: I am excited to announce my upcoming neteyam mini-series. special thanks to @eclipseatsea who gave me the courage and motivation to publish this poem as an intro for the story. she’s such an inspiring person, make sure to check out her beautiful writing if you haven’t already 💕

and again, thank you @neteyamfromwish for being so kind as to complete my request. I don’t know about you guys but I’m in love with this audio, it fits the story and the mood perfectly. for more info, check his website. I highly recommend giving it a try!! the accuracy to neteyam’s voice is chef’s kiss, and I cannot wait to share more with you ✨

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 💗

୨⎯ series masterlist ⎯୧

(in case the video doesn't work, i'll leave you the poem here):

for even in the darkest of times, the moons and stars, they always gave you signs.

with each passing night, you learned more, of the art of loving and losing, and what else was in store.

back then, the gentle beat of his heart by your side, comforted you like a river, making calm and serenity collide.

that night's bright light did glow, with a slender crescent in tow, along with stars above the green trees’ crown, the deserted sand illuminating on its own.

the shadows of his lashes long, cast upon his blue cheeks, so strong, the constellation of freckles, like little diamonds, his beauty almost ethereal to be described by words.

though you had known him for years, you never looked at him with such conscious fears, his exhaustion was evident to see, the cuts on his shoulder, the wounds on his knee, his chest held an elongated scar, that reminded you of the one on his hand so far, you tried to avert your eyes, but failed, and let yourself sink back, blanket well-veiled.

a tattered poetry book, a relic of his father’s past, that you gently reached for, its words meant to last, the old paper, faded and so rough, the letters, black ink, good enough.

all I loved, I loved alone, the last words written, all unknown, you knew not much about poetry or rhyme, but the words cast a spell that stole your time.

staring out at the endless sea, counting sheep, with tears in your eyes, you finally found some sleep.

stars die softly, he had once said with a sigh, wishing people could do the same, quietly passing by.

but you wished no one would die and no death would ever come near, not on nights like this, neither now nor here.

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writtenonreceipts · 4 months

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a/n: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays @howlingcaptaincommando! It’s been a delight getting to know you these few weeks, thanks for putting up with my insanity and I hope you enjoy this messy, slightly chaotic thing…I'm sorry you got stuck with me. Considering all the bangers being released already and then there's this...

thank you to @acotargiftexchange for organizing this event again! <3<3<3

Warnings: none (except it’s me so you’ve gotta put up with that) ~10k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

We’re All Waiting On A Dream

Elain Archeron had never done well with winter.

It was an unfortunate truth that no matter what she did—it never changed.

She could fill her house with plants and flowers, she could open all the blinds of the small coffee shop where she worked, she could bake her favorite bread and dessert every day of the week. But nothing could replace the sunlight of a new spring day or the deep unyielding warmth of the summer sun.

It was only mid-November and she was already craving when the sun would return. Already, she’d planned just how she would spend those first few warm days of the season and none of them involved being indoors, cold, or sitting around at home. She was going to travel and make the best of summer.

She just had to wait six months.

The lingering light of afternoon spilled through the front windows of the shop, splashing across the worn hardwood floors. It was barely four-thirty and already the sun was sneaking lower into the horizon. In just a few more minutes, it would sink behind the nearest buildings and shadows would replace those gentle strips of light.

It was unavoidable, so Elain made the best of it as she swept around the shop and adjusted the lamps that would soon do a majority of the lighting for the night. The dark oak flooring was nicked and scuffed from the wear and tear over the years. If Elain wasn’t mistaken it was the same flooring from when the shop was first built. One of these days she would try and restore the shabby wood, knowing that with a bit of sanding and new stain, the floors would gleam with new life. The project, with as much work as it would be, sounded fun. Another activity to wait to complete though.

For now, she continued her usual tasks as she straightened the small reading couch in one corner and collected a bit of trash that someone left behind. There usually wasn’t much cleaning to do even as a coffee shop. They were tucked down a small alleyway on main street, nestled beside the antiques boutique, only the locals ever really knew where to find them. And on nights like this, things usually remained relaxed and slow.

Really, though—she didn’t mind. These were the nights she enjoyed most. The quiet ones. The easy ones. The shop had long been her solace, even back in school when she’d just been a patron. Even when the winter months dragged on and on, she’d found that this place with its shelves of books and the homey atmosphere were welcoming and helped lighten her mind. It was the kind of the shop where nothing chaotic ever—

The front door jangled open with a frenzy that nearly toppled the bell along the top rail. A gust of winter air swept through the shop, nibbling at Elain’s exposed ankles. She spun around just in time to see a tall man dressed in a pair of neat, black pants and deep green sweater enter the shop. His long red hair hung loose down his shoulders; his warm tanned skin complimented by the colors of his sweater. He was too handsome for his own good, looking far too confident and sure of himself. None of which was helped by the smirk that curled his full lips.

“Elain.” he greeted as soon as he saw her.

Lucien Vanserra.

Even after all this time of knowing him, she never quite knew what to think of him. He had a way of taking the peaceable moments and turning them right on their head. No matter what happened, whenever or wherever Lucien was—there was certainly a bit of mischief to follow.

He was by himself tonight which wasn’t too much of an anomaly. Often, he was with one of his old college friends, Jurian. The two of them were well known for rambunctious energy and very little restraint. Elain had shared several classes with the two of them all through university, ended up in the same study groups, and now was subject to them coming into the shop just about every day.

She supposed she shouldn’t complain too much. Between college and the two of them were how she met one of her closest friends, Vassa, who was also currently dating Jurian. Or they were just sleeping together. Elain wasn’t too sure of the details but knew better than to ask else she face Vassa’s wrath and own probing questions.

Lucien himself was impossible to know, Elain had long ago decided. He could be an arrogant smartass while all at the same time—an idiot. The fact that he was the most attractive man Elain had ever seen didn’t help much either.

“Lucien.” Much to her chagrin she often was at a loss for words when they came face to face. She’d always been flustered by him, not that she’d ever admit it. It was that disarming smile of his she was sure.

Lucien glanced around the empty shop. “Slow night?”

“It was,” Elain said, arching a brow. Just because he flustered her didn’t mean she had to like him.

Lucien only grinned as he approached the register. He was too comfortable here, Elain decided. Especially with that confidence he always seemed to walk with. She shouldn’t judge him for that. He was always here at the shop these days, mostly because it was the only quiet space on the downtown strip. Though, Elain had no idea what he was doing, only that it kept him busy. He almost always had a computer before him taking care of some sort of work. If he wasn’t going over documents, he was on the phone in quiet but urgent conversations. She hadn’t worked up the courage to ask him what it was he did for work, worried that it would open some unknown door that she couldn’t shut if she got in too deep.

She left off cleaning and went behind the counter already putting his usual order in. He always got the same thing no matter the time of day, no matter the time of year. She hadn’t meant to memorize it, but when she was always here working and he was always coming in—it was impossible not to do.

“Do you want your usual order?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. She only realized her mistake upon looking up to find Lucien cocking an eyebrow.

“Keeping tabs on my habits, Elain?” He looked far too pleased at that fact, that smile of his rising just a tick.

“Hard not to when you’re always here,” she said, drily. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Nope.” he replied cheerfully.

Lucien really was a hard person to get to know, to understand, really. Elain had decided that back at university. His personality was so charming that he often received more attention than most. His good looks certainly helped too. Elain didn’t know if calling him a flirt was right or not, but his silver tongue often made her wonder if she’d ever experienced the real Lucien Vanserra. Even worse was, she sometimes wanted to know the real him.

He only chuckled at her sardonic look. “The usual is great. With an extra bagel, if you could?”

Elain took his payment and handed back the thick black credit card. “I’ll bring it out to you in a few.”

As she moved to get started on his drink—an iced vanilla latte with caramel—he remained at the counter, leaning against the solid granite. He did this every so often, trying to strike up a conversation with her. It was usually the stuff of nonsense that ranged from what she thought about pineapple on pizza to who keeps breaking into local zoos and releasing animals from their cages in the middle of the night.

He was immediately offended when she told him pineapple was acceptable as a pizza topping. In fact, she didn’t see him for three days after that confession. Though she didn’t think it really had anything to do with her and more on the lines of the mysterious work he was always up to.

“You’re always here, Elain,” Lucien said. “Don’t you ever get a break?”

Elain scoffed at the question. “I can’t afford time off. I’ve got bills to pay.”

School hadn’t been cheap and she still was not working in her major. A fact she would rather not think about.

“Jurian and I are going to a basketball game next week,” he said, “you should come.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d endeavored to invite her out. Just a few weeks ago there’d been a party thrown by Lucien’s older brother. It was supposedly one of the best parties of the year, including New Years.

Though, Elain wasn’t sure what counted as best party of the year considering all the times Lucien and Jurian had thrown dorm parties involving ranking Mario Cart avatars and how best to optimize playing the game to goldfish racing.

Elain didn’t bother to learn about the second activity.

“Can’t,” she said. She pulled two toasted bagels from the toaster and wrapped them up with a tube of cream cheese. “Someone’s gotta run the shop.”

It was true. Alis had stopped trying to hire anyone new because Elain always insisted on picking up shifts. Sure there was Nuala or Ceridwen who also rotated on shifts, but Elain preferred to be working.

Lucien frowned, just barely, at her answer before he accepted the bagels and finished drink from her. “Alright, it’s an open invitation though.”

He continued to eye her curiously for a minute longer before finally turning and heading to his usual table in the back corner of the shop.

Elain couldn't help but watch as he settled into his seat before turning back to her workstation to clean up after herself. A small pang echoed in her chest but she didn’t quite know how to identify the emotion behind it.

It wasn’t as though she wanted to be a recluse. Ever since leaving school, things hadn’t gone her way. Jobs kept turning her down. Her student loans were piling up. Most of her friends had moved away. Not to mention her relationship with her sisters was rocky at best. Their mother’s death hadn’t helped matters either. In all honesty, the distraction of always being at work was nice. She was exhausted by the time she got home and almost always immediately fell asleep and didn’t have to think about anything else other than keeping herself (and plants) alive.

She used to be the going out type. Used to love the social scene. It got harder though when dad’s health was declining. And then the Grayson matter.

Something needed to change. She knew that. Just a small little switch to flick and then maybe she’d feel a little bit better about where she was in life. Every time she thought about what that change could be, however, her mind only let her consider all the disastrous and unfortunate outcomes that would inevitably occur.

Which was why Tinder had long since gone dormant on her phone.

It was with these thoughts in mind that Elain was startled to attention by the door of the shop thudding open again.

“Where on earth have you been!”

Elain froze at the voice. She’d just settled in to run an inventory of supplies on the computer when her sister chose that moment to enter the shop.

Nesta Archeron entered the shop like a whirlwind. A chaotic, well put together whirlwind that hardly, if ever, touched down. She was constantly involved with one event or another, specifically to please her fiancé, or she was trying to keep her own career afloat (made nearly impossible because Thomas was an ass). There was no easy way to describe Nesta. Especially not when she hardly offered anything of herself in return. Elain loved her sister, truly she did, but sometimes the woman could be rather intense.

Her blonde hair was swept back in half-do, tendrils of hair framing her sharp features and emphasizing the startling silver of her eyes. The neutral tones of her make-up only emphasized her striking beauty and highlighted the determined way she was looking at Elain.

“I’ve been here,” Elain said, slightly amused as she typed into the computer. “All day. My job is rather annoying like that.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, unamused and stalked the rest of the way to the register, her high heeled shoes clicked lightly on the floor, her black dress and sleek jacket indicating it had been a please the fiancé sort of day and not one to have to herself. She set her purse, some designer that Elain didn’t recognize, on the counter and leaned forward with a frown.

“You missed the dress fitting,” Nesta said.

Elain nodded. “Just like I told you I would. There was no one to take my shift and I wasn’t about to close shop in the middle of the day.”

Elain had tried explaining this to her sister before, but since it was an inconvenience for her, Nesta had forgotten it. Alright. That was unfair. Nesta did have quite a bit of stress as she was trying to plan a wedding with a useless fiancé. And said useless fiancé was having Nesta take over quite a bit of his own business duties.

Anytime Elain tried talking to her sister about it, Nesta shut down and changed the topic entirely.

“I know,” Nesta sighed, brushing stray strands of hair out of her face. A look of genuine apology flashed in her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, but it was the only time that worked and you know how important this is for Thomas. But I really needed you at the fitting, Elain. Everything has to go perfectly.”

Flinching inwardly, Elain held back a sigh. On Saturday, her soon to be brother-in-law was to be honored as the new vice-president of his company…doing something of some import. All because of the work Nesta herself had done.

In any case, Elain would be expected to attend because the more people there in support of Thomas the better he came off to his boss. Though, if he were being promoted his boss must already think highly of him. (It was all very convoluted to Elain.)

Then came the fact that Thomas did not like her. And she didn’t like him, so really it all worked out that way. But Elain liked her sister. She wanted to support her sister. And now she was roped into a hoity toity gala. She’d have to shave. Everywhere.

“Nesta,” Elain said patiently, “I am more than happy to support Thomas,” who knew she was an excellent liar? – “and I will be there. Buy the dress as is and I can have Vassa alter it for me. She’s good like that.”

Vassa would laugh her ass off is what she would do, but Elain wouldn’t tell Nesta that.

Nesta blinked, a mild look of panic seizing her face. “Does Vassa know anything about sewing?”

“Sure,” Elain shrugged. “How hard could it be?”

“Elain.”

“Nesta.” Elain reached out and patted her sister’s hand. “The dress fit perfectly the first time I tried it on, three weeks isn’t going to make much of a difference.”

“Alright. You’re right.” Nesta sighed, slouching even further into the counter. Elain had no doubt her sister was counting down the moment to when she could kick her heels off into a corner and not look at them for at least twenty-four hours. “I won’t worry about the dress. But, I do need to know who you’re bringing.”

“Bringing?” Elain repeated. An icy feeling started spreading through her. Oh no. Oh no. She hadn’t prepared for this.

“Yes bringing, you can't come alone Elain,” Nesta said. She gave Elain a look as this was the most obvious thing. “There will be cameras and Thomas’s boss will be there too.”

Why Elain should care about Thomas’s boss, she had no idea. Why anyone would care about her being there, she had no idea. And she said as much.

“Who cares if I have a date?” She demanded. “I am a grown woman. I don't have to bring anyone. I don’t think anyone will want to stamp my picture on whatever new pamphlet the company puts out next year.”

Nesta’s own panic spread across her face. “Please, Elain. I know it’s a little ridiculous, but it has to go perfectly. I know someone I can ask for you, Thomas has a friend—”

Elain blanched.

“No, no I have someone. I have someone…a boy. A boyfriend. I have one.” Elain spoke before she even knew what she was saying. She was digging her own grave but her brain hadn't caught up to that fact.

“You have a boyfriend?” Nesta snapped to attention at the words. Her blue eyes narrowed in on Elain. “Why haven't I heard about him? What's his name, where did he study? Family?”

She really had to think before she spoke. This was not going to end well. Elain gaped at her sister trying hard to think of an answer. How much could she make up before Nesta caught on? Could she fabricate the perfect gentleman only to have him break her heart on the night of the event? Or would that be too dramatic and detract from Thomas?

Elain pulled herself together as best she could. “This is why I didn't say anything because I knew you would do this, Nesta.”

“Honestly Elain, if you’re just going to make up a story--” Nesta was already pulling out her phone and selecting a number in her contacts.

“Lucien.” Elain blurted out the first name that came to mind. “Lucien Vanserra. That’s who he is. And he's right here. Lucein!”

At the very direct sound of his name, Lucien looked up from his coffee and laptop with a bite of bagel making its way to his mouth. It was the first time she had ever seen him caught off guard. It was rather unfortunate that she didn't have time to appreciate it properly.

Lucien recovered from whatever shock he was facing or he was just that good at reading a situation because he set down his bagel and in a few loping steps he was back out the counter, his grin back in place.

“Elain.” As always, he appeared perfectly agreeable, his casual business wear only emphasizing how put together he was. Whether he’d overheard what Elain and her sister had been talking about, she couldn’t tell. She just hoped he was as good an actor as he always seemed to be.

Especially given the fact that Nesta was scrutinizing him in overtime.

“This is the boyfriend?” Nesta asked, her words slow as if she herself needed to make sense of them too.

Lucien glanced at Elain with a rather bemused expression. She gave him as pleading a look as she could while Nesta continued her assessment.

When Lucien nodded discreetly at her, Elain felt a small bit of relief. She wouldn’t trust it for long though.

“Lucien Vanserra,” he said. He extended a hand to Nesta who paused for a moment before accepting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Elain talks about you all the time.”

Nesta didn’t answer immediately. As with everything, she took great care in analyzing everything about a situation.

“Vanserra,” Nesta repeated. She had a thing about names and people and appearances. Vanserra must have been a decent enough name because Nesta raised her chin slightly, a slow smile working at one corner of her mouth. “She hasn’t mentioned you before.”

Unperturbed, Lucien adopted his casual ease and laughed. “Considering how long it took for her to pay me any attention, I’m not surprised.”

His words sent an unbidden flush over Elain’s skin even as she glared at him. She didn’t exactly know what to make of his words either. Either he was very good at lying on the spot (concerning) or there was a pinch of truth to his words (also concerning).

“Well,” Nesta said. She turned back to Elain abruptly. “Saturday. The event starts at seven, I expect you to be there at six-thirty. Six-thirty, Elain.”

“I will be there,” Elain said, Nesta gave her a look. “We will be there.”

The only thing that saved Elain from further humiliation by her own doing was Nesta’s phone buzzing with an incoming call.

Nesta only ignored it long enough to raise a single brow to Lucien. “Black tie.”

It wasn’t until the door of the shop clicked shut that Elain let out a rather unfeminine groan and nearly collapsed across the work counter. What had she just gotten herself into?

“So,” Lucien said, his voice growing closer as he filled the space Nesta vacated. Elain looked up to him leaning across the space to get closer to her. “When did we start dating?”

Elain felt her cheeks flush deeper. Oh hell, what had she done?

Huffing out a breath she straightened and ran her hands through her hair. She fixed Lucien with as menacing a look as she could while he kept grinning.

“What was I supposed to do? She was going to set me up with someone from her fiancé’s work. I’ve seen a majority of those men, no good options.” Elain knew she was rambling in desperation, but she couldn’t help it. Thankfully the embarrassment of the past ten minutes hadn’t set in yet. That was one miracle she’d accept.

“Hm,” Lucien hummed, “I do see your dilemma. This is a rather interesting choice of action though, all the same.”

Groaning, Elain started pacing behind the counter. “It’s fine. I can make up a dramatic break-up story within the next three days. That’ll fix this. Oh, no. It won’t because she knows your name, she’ll find you. I could fake an illness? Except I used that the last time there was one of these events.”

This was turning out to be not very good.

Elain stopped and looked at him. “I am so sorry. This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Ah, Elain, what you don’t know about me is that I was born for mischief and mayhem. Just ask my mother, she has an entire photo album dedicated to the destruction I caused as a child.”

“I don’t think this is helping,” she said, slightly horrified.

He flashed her a smile. “Oh but it will help. I can promise a night full of fun, you’ll hardly even realize you’re at a…where are we going?”

“A work party for her fiancé’s marketing company,” Elain explained, crinkling her nose as she remembered the rather mundane and boring job Thomas had. “He just landed an account for drills and is being promoted.”

“Why the hell would anyone—” Lucien cut himself off with a wave of his hand— “doesn’t matter. The point still stands that I can guarantee a fun night.”

“Can you hold a conversation about drills?”

“No but I do know magic.”

“Absolutely not.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment.

Lucien spoke first. “It’d be hilarious. Get you out of any more of these events.”

A startled laugh escaped her. She couldn’t help it. There was just something in the way he spoke and the sincerity that he held that just seemed funny. At her first bubble of laughter, Lucien joined in.

“C’mon, Elain, consider it a practice run,” he said.

“Practice run?” Elain repeated.

“Sure,” Lucien shrugged. “When you come to the basketball game with Jurian and I. Vassa can come.”

His eyes sparked with a mix of humor and…hope?

Elain approached the counter again, still not believing that he was agreeing to this. Even with a little bit of insistence to his own favor. In all honesty, she wasn’t entirely sure why he was so interested in her. In school she’d been a bit intense in her studies and hadn’t left much room from friendships or other relationships for that matter. But he’d always been there on the edge of her sights. A nuisance sure, but there all the same. And there weren’t a lot of people she could say the same of.

“You have a suit and tie?” she asked. He nodded. “You’re okay with pretending to be my boyfriend?” Another nod. “You won’t let this be a thing that you hold over my head?”

“Elain,” Lucien said. A bit of the humor left his voice and he straightened. “Consider it a favor among friends. You don’t even have to go watch basketball. I want to help you out.”

She worried her lip, still not completely convinced. But she knew what would happen if she showed up alone and knew that Nesta would laud it over her for the rest of their lives.

“Alright,” she agreed. “Lucien Vanserra, would you please be my fake boyfriend?”

His russet eyes sparked. “Elain Archeron, it would be my pleasure.”

…

On Saturday evening, Elain found herself trying to control her sanity. It was not going very well.

“Would you hold still?” Vassa muttered for yet another time. She stabbed Elain’s shoulder with a bobby pin. “We’re almost done.”

Elain squirmed again. Usually, she didn’t mind sitting still and being pampered. Hell, she loved it. Getting dressed up and looking her best was something she missed being able to do. It had been the one thing she was looking forward to about the night. After so long of being so shut in, having a night to just be and have fun? If it weren’t for the mess of dealing with Thomas (and now a forced fake relationship) she wouldn’t have given her sister such a hard time.

As it was, she was still nervous.

Maybe it was being out among people again? No, she’d always loved people and making new friends. It had to be Lucien. It had to be the idea of getting closer to him even for a night. She had no idea why. It was just Lucien.

But the closer the clock ticked to six, the more her stomach flopped.

Vassa tugged hard on Elain’s hair.

“Ow!”

“Oops.”

Elain glared through the mirror at her friend who ignored her. It hadn’t taken very much pleading to enlist her friends help in preparing for this stupid party. Mostly just a promised girl’s night out. Though, after Elain had explained what had happened and who she would be going with and the entirety of the fake boyfriend situation—Vassa had found no issue in helping Elain out.

Once she’d stopped laughing of course.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Elain muttered. She wrung her hands together as she stared at their reflections. “I should have just put my foot down and told Nesta no.”

“Since when has telling Nesta no ever worked out, Elain?” Vassa replied. She shoved another bobby pin into place causing Elain to wince. “Besides, Lucien is fun. Do you remember in school when he hired a mariachi band to follow the dean around?”

That, admittedly, had been hilarious. There was also the time Lucien and Jurian had built a giant outdoor water slide on the hottest day of the year. Complete with a water balloon fight afterwards. If there was one thing to say about Lucien it was that he enjoyed having a good time.

“And he’s good looking,” Vassa added.

“Vassa,” Elain sighed.

“He comes into your shop a lot too,” Vassa said. She cocked her head to one side through the mirror, a small smile on her lips.

Elain’s glare went ignored. Again.

After another few minutes, Vassa hummed happily and patted Elain’s head.

“There,” she said. “I think that looks good.”

It really did.

While Elain could often manage on her own to make herself look flawless and put together—she’d needed a bit more confidence for that night. And who else could she ask for help than Vassa?

Most of her hair still flowed down her back in loose curls, but the rest was pulled up in a twisting braid. It all came together with the carefully applied make-up Elain had done.

“Thanks,” Elain said. She touched a few places in her hair out of habit. Everything was perfect though.

“You’re gonna look great,” Vassa said. Her smile was infectious as she leaned in for a quick hug. “Let's get you in your dress. He’ll be here any minute.”

Elain’s stomach flopped again. She really wasn’t going to get out of this was she? And yet there was a small part of her that asked if she really wanted to.

It had been ages since she’d had a fun night out. Even if it was to go to an event for Thomas of all people—Elain was just eager for fun. And she was going with Lucien. Lucien who actually made Elain smile. And he’d never pressured her in all the little flirtations he’d thrown her way. He’d remained respectful and even kept his distance when she’d silently begged for it. Not that he’d known what was going in in her life, but her relationship with Grayson had been a joke. It’s what had led to her slipping away from her usual outgoing self…

Elain banished the thoughts away. She couldn’t be thinking about this.

She hurried after Vassa and down the hall to her room.

She hadn’t been able to get any help with making extra modifications to the gown, but she wasn’t worried. She’d never had an issue with finding things that fit easily. Both Nesta and Feyre hated her for it, but Elain had never been more grateful than she was that night.

Vassa was already pulling the dress from its coverings, revealing the floor length fabric. If there was one thing Elain could trust Nesta in, it was her fashion sense.

The dress was a pale purple made of a light chiffon fabric. There was a little bit of rouching at the sides with a draped neckline. Elian’s favorite part about the dress though were the sheer flutter sleeves. It might be a little impractical with the chill weather, but she didn’t care.

She couldn’t help the small smile as she examined the dress. Yes. She was more than a little excited to wear it. She hurried and stripped from her leggings and tank top before shimming into the dress. The other good thing was that she didn’t have to mess with a strapless bra and could get away with what she usually wore.

She waited as Vassa zipped her in and brushed out any wrinkles or funny lines in the fabric.

Vassa hummed in amusement as she circled Elain once. “Your breasts look amazing.”

Hell.

Elain smacked her friend on the arm and turned to the full-length mirror propped up in the corner of her room. Indeed, her breasts looked amazing. The dress was of a silky material that clung to Elain’s usually nonexistent curves. The sweetheart neckline dipped a bit lower than she expected, showing off more of her neck and collarbones. The soft purple color complimented her lighter complexion and the rich brown undertones of her hair. She didn’t look washed out or haunted—she looked like herself. Happy.

“Damn,” Elain sighed. “I was hoping I’d look terrible. Nesta wouldn’t blame me for not showing up if I looked like a cow.”

Vassa snorted a laugh. “Please, Elain. You’d look good in anything.”

Elain bit her lip and gave a half spin, watching the fabric twist with her movements. “I don’t know if I have a jacket that will match. It’s too cold to go without something.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Vassa said before disappearing to her own room.

As soon as she vanished, there was a knock at the front door and Elain froze. Hell. It was already time, wasn’t it?

She took a long breath, flattening her hands over her stomach. She could do this. It was going to be fun and easy. Lucien after all had agreed to no pressure, they were simply friends. She stared into her own eyes, gave a sharp nod and hurried down the hall to the small entry way of the apartment. She took one more steadying breath as she pulled the door open.

There, looking impeccable in a neat, black suit and perfectly knotted tie was Lucien. His hair was unfortunately pulled back into a low hanging tail, Elain always liked seeing it loose. The suit fit him well, emphasizing his muscular build well. He looked good. He’d always been handsome with his tall figure and strong jaw, but tonight felt different.

Elain knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. The only solace she took in that was the way Lucien was taking her in. His gaze flicked from her dress to her face and she swore his mouth parted just a bit. Now he was just putting on a show.

“Lucien,” she said, trying desperately to untangle her tongue. “You clean up well.”

That had to be the stupidest thing she could have said. Hell in handbasket, what was wrong with her?

Still, that familiar smile of his returned and a glint sparked in his rich russet eyes. “I could say the same about you, Elain.”

The way he said her name sent a shiver racing down her spine. Another thing she didn’t know how to reconcile. Because if she were being honest, she was surprised he’d shown up at all. He easily could have text a brief can’t make it text and really, could she have blamed him? She cleared her throat, hands wringing together nervously. She had no idea what was wrong with her—she didn’t get nervous, especially not around Lucien Vanserra of all people.

“I almost thought you didn’t own a tie,” she added, falling back to what she knew--sarcasm. “You always say they’re too restricting.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “Until I started working for my brother. Apparently, I have to be professional nowadays.”

“Poor Lucien,” Elain sighed, “has to join the real world with the rest of us.”

“It’s terrible,” he agreed.

Before either of them could say anything else, Vassa gave a shout of triumph from down the hall.

“I found it!” With the rapid pattering of bare feet, Vassa careened from her room and down to the entryway of the apartment. Her red hair pitched violently to one side from the confines of her bun. She waved a stylish jacket at Elain as she approached. “It will match perfectly, Nesta won’t have to gouge your eyes out.”

Elain accepted the jacket. “Thanks, Vassa.”

“Of course,” Vassa said. She then flashed Lucien an appraising look. “Hello Vanserra.”

Lucien accepted Vassa’s scrutiny with grace, only continuing to smile with that charming grin of his. “Vassa, nice to see you again.”

Despite her earlier words of approval of him--Vassa continued to eye him suspiciously.

“I have a list of rules that should be adhered to,” she began.

“No you do not,” Elain said. She brushed past Vassa and gave her a quick hug. “We’re late. Thank-you for your help.”

She grabbed Lucien’s arm and ushered him out the door as quickly as possible.

“Don’t do anything illegal, I don’t have bail money!” Vassa shouted after them.

Elain let the door click shut without calling back a response. It was easier that way. Especially when there was no guarantee what Vassa would say next. Sometimes her filter was a hit and miss.

“She’s always such a delight,” Lucien commented as they got on the elevator.

Elain snorted a laugh. “Oh, yeah. She teeters on the edge of unsuspecting sweetheart to raging terror real quick.”

Once you got to know Vassa, to understand her nuances and her habits--she maintained the questionable reputation but with a bit more trust and care on your part. Truly, Elain didn’t know where she would be without her friend.

“Didn’t she stage a revolution of frogs from the Biology Department on campus?” Lucien asked.

“It was very well organized,” Elain admitted. She did not, however, remind Lucien that she had been right beside Vassa in running said revolution.

Despite Lucien’s protests, Elain insisted she drive. Mostly for that semblance of control that she felt was slipping away from her. She was far too nervous that she needed to be for the night. Which was ridiculous considering this would turn out to be the most boring night imaginable. No matter what Nesta insisted.

“Isn’t this the car you had back in school?” Lucien asked as Elain pulled out onto the highway. “How is it still running?”

True, Elain’s small two-door car had quite a few years on her and the air conditioning didn’t work, but it was a good car. She said as much.

“She’s reliable and all of her issues are easily fixed,” Elain said. She paused. “Well, that’s mostly because the stereo is really good and the speakers drown out any annoying sound.”

“Right, so what you’re telling me is that I could possibly die tonight?”

“You’re the one who insisted on helping me out,” Elain replied. She smiled then, allowing the small levity of the moment to potentially ease her nerves. When she glanced at Lucien, she found him watching her, a look of amusement in his eyes.

She turned back to the road and tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at just having him here. It was stupid really. Just a response to being grateful he’d volunteered to this hairbrained idea.

“So,” Lucien began after a few minutes of silence, “how long have we been dating?”

“Is this really necessary?” she asked, the flutters picking up pace at his words.

“We’ve got to have a background Elain,” Lucien insisted, “can’t have anyone poking holes in this plot. What would your sister say?”

Elain paused only a beat. “That I could have tried harder.”

“Exactly, now. How long have we been dating?” he asked.

Elain wondered if she should be concerned by his enthusiasm about this. “Just a few months. Nothing elaborate.”

“A few months and already willing to send me to the throes of your family? You must really like me then.”

Elain glared while Lucien laughed. It continued from there with them establishing details of how best they could pull this off. Mostly, they leaned on their college days to fill in any details of how they met and things like that. There wouldn’t be much lying involved since they’d shared so many classes right up until the division into their specific degrees. But Elain couldn’t help but laugh as he insisted it would work out fine.

“Please, Lucien,” she said as she pulled into the event center, where there was a line waiting for the valet. “You hated me back then, how’s anyone going to believe this?”

“You think I hated you?” Lucien asked, genuine concern flashing in his eyes.

Elain’s lips parted, though she didn’t know how to reply. She started to speak when a soft knock on her window indicated the valet was ready for them.

Glad for the interruption, she scrambled out of the car. The young man dressed in a starched red vest was kind enough to help her out of the dinky little car. And he didn’t even give her a side-eyed glance at the pathetic nature of her car. That was nice.

She was still smoothing out her dress when Lucien came around the car and offered up his arm for her.

“Thanks,” she murmured, accepting the offer. If she were being honest, she needed the support of someone beside her for this. It had been a while since she’d come out to an event like this. Ever since her messy break-up with Grayson, she just hadn’t been up to going out.

And she loved parties. Truly, before Grayson, this would have been the highlight of her night, her week. But after everything the man had put her through, Elain felt more than a bit of unease run through her. Insecurities she’s felt throughout her relationship resurfaced. She needed this night to prove to herself, and Nesta, that she was fine. She was more than fine. She was back to her usual self. She was moving on. She was—

“Elain,” Lucien said from beside her, his finger squeezing her arm just enough to be reassuring, “I can hear you overthinking this.”

She made a non-committal noise and let Lucien lead them up to the entrance doors behind another couple.

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “Really it is, all Nesta needs is to see me, then we can go find the caterer and beg for free food while hiding in the kitchen.”

“We can do that?” he asked, sounding intrigued by the idea. “I thought you’d jump at the opportunity to be at an event like this.”

“Usually I would,” Elain admitted, she shrugged delicately. “I just can’t help but think something will go wrong with the night. Or the dress. Nesta wanted me to get it professionally altered but I didn’t have time, or money. But Nesta likes being in control of things like this, I guess.” She paused. “I have cash stuffed in my bra; I am not beneath offering bribes. We could be out of here in five minutes if we wanted.”

“Elain,” Lucien said softly as a woman offered to take their coats, “you’re freaking out.”

“If I were freaking out, you’d know it,” Elain replied. “I am merely over explaining everything to give me less time to worry about everything else.”

They entered the main hall of the center that had been completely transformed from the last time Elain had been here for a coffee expo for work. Instead of standard tables and plain rugs, there was open space intermixed with tall glass tables and softly glowing lights. It actually looked like an important event and some hoax.

“Here she comes,” Elain said, spotting her sister immediately.

Nesta strode toward them with purposeful steps. The dress clung to her curves from the chest to her waist before billowing out around her hips. The dark blue fabric was inlaid with beads that caught in the light, offering a little softness to the otherwise intimidating dress. Though, there was no one else who could have pulled it off then Nesta. She’d twisted her hair into a coronet of braids with beaded pins to match the dress.

Elain couldn’t help but fidget with her dress. Nesta had always been strikingly beautiful not only with her looks, but she was tall and well portioned in all the right places she should have been. Elain had never felt the same about herself. Oh, she’d been called lovely and pretty on many occasions, but here and now she felt like nothing in comparison to her sister.

A hand rested at the small of her back and Lucien leaned in to her side. “You look beautiful, Elain. And if your sister doesn’t think so, she’s insane.”

The simple words caused heat to rise in Elain’s cheeks and she found herself staring into Lucien’s eyes. Bright, russet eyes that had flecks of gold spinning amid the darker shades. The certainty with which he spoke surprised her more than anything.

“Elain!” Nesta called out in a cheery voice that belied how stressed out she actually was. Nesta was never cheerful. Elain could swear she could see the whites of her sister’s eyes even from ten feet away. “There you are.”

“Nesta,” Elain greeted as her sister approached.

Nesta pulled Elain into a tight hug, shocking considering how touch averse the eldest Archeron could be. Elain accepted it for the good will gesture it was.

When she pulled back, Nesta smiled softly. “You do look lovely. The dress turned out perfect.”

“Thank-you,” Elain murmured.

Nesta gave her arm another squeeze before turning to look Lucien over. She nodded once tightly. “Well. I’m glad you’re both here. It’s going to be a good night. Thomas’ boss is over there with the red tie, don’t look! Red tie, silver hair. Do not talk to him unless you promise to behave.”

“I’m twenty-five, Nesta,” Elain said, “I know how to behave in social situations.”

Nesta fixed her with a signature unamused glare just as Lucien spoke up.

“Does that mean no magic tricks?” He leaned in into Elain. “I practiced and everything.”

“Absolutely not.” Nesta gaped at him.

Elain barely managed to hold back her grin. “Oh, but he’s actually really good, Nesta. Doesn’t even need an assistant or anything.”

That got a warning finger waggled in both of their faces.

“Absolutely no shenanigans,” she said, “do I made myself clear?”

A spare glance at Lucien told Elain he was trying, and failing to appear chastened.

“We’ll go occupy ourselves,” Elain said, “don’t worry so much.”

That was probably the last thing Nesta wanted to hear. But Elain only smiled brightly and grabbed Lucien’s hand, pulling him with her.

“We’ll be over here!”

“Not doing magic.”

Elain smacked Lucien on the chest. He didn’t even bother to hide his laugh.

“Behave!” Nesta hissed. She spun on her heel to return to Thomas’ side where he was regaling his boss with what must have been a truly miserable story about the lint stuck to his tie.

“C’mon,” Elain said, one hand still gripping Lucien’s. “I think there’s an open bar.”

Together, they slipped through the throngs of people that continued to arrive. Elain recognized a few from various parties she’d been forced to attend on other occasions. How she’d gained such notoriety for herself was a bit concerning. Both for her sake and Nesta’s, seeing as how Nesta would insist on determining a contingency plan to explain Elain’s antics to whoever may listen.

The plan would have to explain away Lucien now too as Elain was forced to introduce her boyfriend over and over.

After nearly fifteen minutes of socializing with people Elain barely even knew--they managed to break free to the tables standing at the ready for a casual setting of drinks and hor-d'oeuvres brought around by waitstaff in black and white uniforms.

“Why don’t you get a table,” Lucien suggested, “I’ll get us some drinks.”

“Sure,” Elain agreed.

She watched him as he disappeared into the small crowd near the bar. It was strange being here with him. Having him as her date and acting like this was the most normal thing to occur. She didn’t really understand why he’d agreed to this plan—helping her. Well, if only to swindle another date out of her. But this certainly was an elaborate way to get what he wanted.

She managed to find a few open chairs at a back table, not that she minded. To have a little bit of isolation away from the awkward small talk of Thomas’ company was preferable.

Though, just as she moved to go claim the seats, a hand grabbed her elbow. Elain spun around to come face to face with the one person she’d been hoping to avoid.

“Grayson,” Elain said, trying her best not to appear utterly taken aback by his appearance. She’d known he was going to be here. Had planned for it really, she’d just hoped he wouldn’t have actually tried to talk to her.

They’d dated for a year, the relationship ending only a few months ago now. Nesta had introduced them at an event just like this. Grayson worked in just one department over from Thomas. It was the perfect situation, Nesta had insisted, and Grayson had always been a respectable prospect.

But everything promptly fell apart when Elain had suggested going back to get her master’s and maybe even doctorate. The news hadn’t settled well with Grayson who only wanted a perfect nuclear family and a perfect wife to be waiting for him at home.

She drew away from him even as he tried stepping in closer.

“Elain, it’s good to see you.” Grayson had a standard profile, nothing truly remarkable in his looks, though he did have a good nose. His brown hair was neatly styled back, cut in a perfect standard haircut. “I didn’t think you would be here.”

“I’m supporting my sister and her fiance,” Elain said.

She’d spent the better part of the last few months not necessarily getting over him—rather the way he made her feel. She hadn’t been happy with the thought of simply coming home and doing nothing with her life. While she wanted a family and wanted kids, she knew there was more she wanted to do with her life first. Grayson had tried to make her regret all those things. He’d stifled her, guilted her, done all the things that made her question who she really was.

There had been enough time wasted over him that she wasn’t interested in wasting even more.

She tried slipping past him. “I should go, I have—”

Grayson was too quick for her. He stepped in front of her again, hand already reaching for her.

“We should talk, get caught up,” he insisted.

Elain could only stare. He’d been so insistent about a clean break that he hadn’t even bothered to return any of the things she’d left at his apartment. Only to pop up in her DMs a few months later to “check-up.” She didn’t need this. Or want this.

“No,” she said. “You don’t actually want that, Gray. And I certainly don’t.”

The grip on her arm tightened as a dark look flashed in his pale eyes. He’d never liked being told no. Some would say that was what made him good at his job. Elain would say that was the real reason why she was happy with their break-up.

“Everything alright, Elain?”

Never had that voice sent so much relief spiraling through her. Behind Grayson, Lucien had returned, drinks in hand. But he wasn’t looking at Elain. His attention rested solely on Grayson who slowly turned to assess the new arrival.

To Grayson’s credit, he didn’t balk at the sight of Lucien. Even though Lucien was several inches taller with a stronger build. Grayson had always been on the leaner side. But with the dark look in his eyes and the way he stood, nearly towering over the bother of them—Lucien was not someone to be easily ignored.

“She’s fine,” Grayson answered before Elain had the chance.

Lucien quirked a single eyebrow and finally looked at Elain. He still had that hard look in his eyes, but Elain knew that razor thin line between anger and control had nothing to do with her.

“Is everything alright, Elain?” he asked again.

“Fine,” Elain replied, rather proud that she was able to keep her voice even. “I was just telling Grayson that you were waiting for me.”

This time as Elain pulled away, Grayson let her go. She was able to skirt around him and to Lucien without any fanfare. As it was, they’d drawn a few eyes of other attendees.

“Elain,” Grayson began. But Elain had no desire to hear what else he had to say.

“My boyfriend and I were leaving,” she said promptly.

Then with a bit more force than she intended, she managed to drag Lucien away from the growing scene. It was a shame, she really wanted to dance at least a little bit.

She didn’t stop until they were through a small side door that led out into an empty hallway. It was blissfully quiet and several degrees cooler than in the event room.

“That,’ she said, “was just what I wanted to avoid.”

Lucien said nothing, only handing her a glass of champagne. Elain accepted it gratefully. While she’d never much cared for the taste, she needed something that would maybe settle her nerves. Because everything inside of her was feeling spun on its head.

After she drowned the first glass, Lucien held out the second which she took too.

“Are you sure you're alright?” he asked again. He didn’t try to reach out to her or comfort her in any other way. Which Elain was grateful for. The adrenaline still snapping through her would likely have made her do something stupid.

“Yeah,” she said. She took another sip of champagne before shaking her head. “He’s just an ass and I should have done a better job at avoiding him.”

“Ex?” he confirmed.

“I didn’t even like him that much,” Elain admitted.

She took a step down the blackened hallway that had only one emergency light burning in the distance. A sheer glass wall looked out into a small garden walkway between two different parts of the center. Most of the foliage was beginning to bloom with bright green leaves dancing in a small breeze that rustled outside.

Elain turned back to Lucien and smiled softly. “Sorry. I promised an easy night out, not stacked with drama. Thank-you though, for showing up when you did.”

“What are fake boyfriends for?” Lucien joked, returning her smile. “Did you know he’d be here?”

“I figured,” Elain said, “Nesta had Thomas introduce us. And It was fine for a while…until it wasn’t. I think she was going to try and set me up with him again tonight, just so I wouldn’t show up alone.”

Elain smiled softly. She didn’t blame her sister, not really. She hadn’t told anyone except Vassa the real reason behind her and Gray’s break-up. She just didn’t think Nesta would understand. Her sister had always had so much control over her own life that Elain felt if she admitted to her own insecurities…it would almost be a failure in and of itself.

“And I didn’t want that,” Elain said. She set the second champagne glass down on a side table that had been left out in the hall. And then because it seemed like the best thing to do, she apologized again. “I’m sorry.”

“Elain,” Lucien said, stepping towards her. “You have nothing to apologize for. Hell, you got roped into this whole night against your will.”

“Sometimes it’s just easier to go along with Nesta,” Elain said with a wane smile. “I know she just wants this to be a good night for Thomas and she’s doing her best but…”

Lucien didn’t let her finish her sentence. He took her hand in one of his large ones, immediately engulfing her in warmth.

“C’mon.”

He began pulling her down the hall, away from the party.

“What? Where are we going?” Elain asked.

Lucien only flashed a mischievous smile, the overhead lights catching in the deep umber of his eyes. He led them to an emergency exit that took them outside to the cool night air. After the stress of running into Grayson, the fresh air felt wonderful to Elain. Even if the overhead clouds threatened rain, she loved the feeling of being outside.

After a few yards they reached the valet stand once again. The same workers as before eyed them with a mix of amusement and wariness.

“We’ll need our car back,” Lucien informed them, passing a tip over as he spoke. He then turned to Elain. “Wait here, I’ll get your coat. I’d rather not have Vassa plot my murder.”

He shucked off his own jacket in the meantime and draped it over her shoulders before dashing off back to the event center. Elain could only stare after him. Was he seriously suggesting they leave early? Elain could already picture the face Nesta would be making once she realized they were gone. And the texts she’d receive.

But she knew even if she’d tried to object to Lucien, he would ignore her and insist playing a little hooky never hurt anyone. It wasn’t long at all when he returned with her coat.

“What are we doing?” Elain asked as they swapped coats back.

“There’s an ice cream place just down the street,” Lucien said, “best pecan praline in the city. None of the food in there was interesting anyways, no bacon and no shrimp. I checked.”

Elain’s sad little car puttered into view, coming to a stop just before them. The valet got out, holding the door open.

“Ah-ah,” Lucien said, blocking Elain before she could get in. “You had two glasses of champagne.”

“One and a half,” she argued.

“Close enough.” He had the gall to wink at her before escorting her around to the passenger side. “Relax, Elain.”

She scowled at him, but ultimately knew he was right. She shouldn’t be driving even if she thought she was fine. Instead, she glared at him the entire time that he got into the driver’s seat and made a big show of adjusting just about everything he could think of.

“Damn, Elain, you’re short.”

“Vassa’s not the only one who can plot a murder you know,” she grumbled.

Not at all concerned by the mild threat, Lucien drove them the short distance to the small ice cream shop he’d mentioned. Two oversized cups later they were back sitting in the parking lot with the car heater running while they watched the traffic in the distance.

“Nesta’s going to kill me,” Elain mused as she tasted her helping of pecan praline. Which admittedly was the best she’d ever had.

“Just tell her it’s part of my famous magic act,” Lucien said, “the Now you see me, Now you don’t addition.”

Elain snorted. “Hm, I do always love a good disappearing act.”

“See? Magic’s not all bad.”

Elain shook her head, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a laugh. He must have sensed her straining efforts because he nudged her with his elbow.

“It’s alright admitting you were wrong, natural even.” He took a spoonful of his own ice cream--rocky road—and nodded to her. “Though, perfectionist that you are, I know how hard that is for you.”

“I’m not a perfectionist!”

“Several hours’ worth of arguing in study rooms suggest otherwise.”

“Saying you’re going to wing it on an assignment worth thirty percent or our grade is irresponsible and ridiculous,” she told him. A few of their shared assignments had been rather difficult to get through considering both of their different study approaches.

“I still scored as well as you did,” he reminded her.

Rolling her eyes, Elain ate more ice cream. “But you never hated me?”

The words from earlier still lingered in the back of her mind and with everything else that had happened that night, she hadn’t really been able to puzzle them out.

“No,” Lucien said, “you were never someone I could hate.”

Elain watched him for a moment, considering her words. She’d never really imagined herself here, eating ice cream while dressed in formal wear with someone she’d once rivaled with. Someone she hadn’t seen completely.

“I know nothing about basketball,” she informed him, “so that game you’re planning on taking me to could turn into a disaster. You’ll have to keep me well stocked with garlic fries and lemonade.”

“Whatever you say, Elain.”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Thanks for reading y’all I hope you enjoyed it! I have the vaguest of vague ideas for a nessian spin off, but who knows… anyways, love y’all and Merry Christmas <3

Tumblr is still throwing fits about my tag lists and I can’t do an extended tag list of people. So, if you’d reblog I would really appreciate it!

#elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar gift exchange #acotar fic #fanfiction #acotar fanfic

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