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underground-secret · 11 months ago

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The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean

Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam is haunted by a vision of a woman trapped in his childhood house

Warning: cannon violence, tension/ minor flirting, slight angst and comfort, mentions of death, mentions of a dead parent, the use of witchcraft that isn't exactly apart of Supernatural lore but does have ties to many folklore's interpretations of a witches capability from European Folklore to Appalachian Folk Magic and many more (i used a mix of different lore to create my own interpretation) this took so long to research, l also was testing things out in my apartment so i'd be able to write it properly- literally rearranging furniture for it

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld ,

@okayiamkassandra, @fablerose , @ada--44

Word Count: 12,947

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(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch.)

I stumble into the boys motel room, stifling a yawn from passing through my lips. Did I wake up two hours ago and refuse to get out of the stiff motel bed instead of coming to meet my lovely friends in their room?

Yes!

“Good morning my little stabby hunters” I greet cheerfully, closing and locking the door behind me. Sam mumbles some incoherent version of a greeting from where he sat on his bed while Dean looks up from Sam’s laptop, “Mornin’ sweetheart”

I walk up to each boy individually giving their hair a nice ruffle before shuffling my way to sit criss-cross applesauce on the unoccupied bed. “You had perfect timing ‘cause I think I found a few candidates for our next gig.”

“Oooh how fun” I half sarcastically say, “read ‘em out!”

“Alright we got a fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali” I nod pretending to know what a ‘trawler’ is, “ –-its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas.” Dean lists out looking up every now and then for a reaction, “Hey. Sammy.” He calls out to his brother who’s sat drawing something on a little notepad.

Sam looks up, giving Dean an annoyed look waiting for what he has to say. Dean leans back in his chair, “Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?”

“No. I’m listening. Keep going.” Sam declares, going right back to his drawing. He was in fact not paying attention.

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.” He stops speaking again, waving his hand in the air intended to get his brother's attention, “Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

Sam suddenly sits up fully, “Wait. I’ve seen this.”

“Seen what?” I ask, Dean and I sharing a confused look. But Sam doesn't answer, he just crosses the room towards his duffel bag, searching for something. “What are you doing?” Dean asks. Again Sam doesn't answer, finally finding whatever he was looking for he pauses studying the two things in his hands, he swiftly turns around “I know where we have to go next.”

“Where?” Dean muses, asking the question were both thinking.

“Back home –- back to Kansas” Sam breathes, a hint of panic in his eyes.

“Okay, random. Where’d that come from?”

Sam shows the thing he took out of his bag, a photo, to his brother, I get up to view it too. “All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?” Sam asks, looking between the sort of family photo taken in front of their house and his brother.

“Yeah.” Dean answers plainly.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?” Sam asks further.

“Yeah it took ‘em a while to, I think it was mostly out of respect because no one ever moved in after you either, as far as I know.” I answer only knowing because I lived in town even after they moved away.

“Okay, well, someone lives there now…and, I, uh, look, this is gonna sound crazy but….the people who live in our old house –- I think they might be in danger.” Sam stammers

“Why would you think that?” Dean asks the obvious question. “Uh…it’s just, um….look, just trust me on this, okay?” He starts to walk away to the other side of the room, Dean following suit, “Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?”

The fighting begins, I think to myself as I chew on the inside of my cheek. I knew Dean would probably act harsher then he meant to, his mom—his old house being a very rough topic for him.

Now it’s Sam’s turn to answer simply, “Yeah.”

“Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that.” Dean raises his voice slightly.

“I can’t really explain it is all” Sam says looking around the room instead of making eye contact.

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do” Dean crosses his arms waiting expectantly.

Sam sighs, “I have these nightmares.”

“I’ve noticed” Dean says while nodding and I want to step in and lecture him for coming off so mean, but I bite my tongue.

“And sometimes…” Sam pauses for a while before continuing, “…they come true.” This time I don’t bite my tongue, the word slipping out of my lips out of pure shock, “Sam” I gasp. “Come again?” Dean says almost at the same time as my gasp.

“Look….I dreamt about Jessica’s death –- for days before it happened.” Sam tries to explain further, nearly getting cut off by his brother, “Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” I know Dean doesn't want to believe it, I know he’s scared of what this could mean. But I can’t help but feel this is like the argument Dean had started on my twelfth birthday, all those years ago. It felt especially silly to feel this way now, not when I never held a grudge against him because of it. Maybe I should have but I could never find it within myself to do so.

Dean sits down on one of the beds and it’s clear he doesn't know what to do with himself. Sam begins to explain himself more, which I hate the fact he has to, “No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

“I don’t know.” Dean huffs out. It’s clear he’s overwhelmed, which is a significantly better reaction than what I got to his whole realization of what I really was—a witch—despite the fact he already knew that. I want to respect their relationship and not speak when it’s not my right to, and yet if it comes down to it I know I will. I won’t let their relationship fall apart because of this, I won’t let a hatred form between them. Let alone like how Dean had hated me for months and I had hated myself too.

“I-it can mean something. There's a lot of cultures that believe that dreams are capable of showing the future as a guidance or even as a warning. Egyptians, Romans, and Greeks, they all believed in this; it's,um, called oneiromancy.” I pipe in quietly as if scared that saying it too loud would shatter the delicate atmosphere. Sam was looking at me with big eyes like he was hanging on to each word I spoke, nodding along.

“All right, just slow down, would ya?” Dean stands abruptly beginning to pace the carpeted floor, “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

“When what?” Sam asks carefully.

Dean sounds on the verge of tears, probably the most vulnerable he’s been in a long time, “When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?” The air, the atmosphere itself, felt fragile then too as if something so palpable had to be careful of where it stood

Sam begins softly, his eyes scrunched in a mix of worry and sympathy, “Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure.”

“I know we do.” Dean nods, his head hung low.

The Impala pulls up in front of the old Winchester house, the cute little two story green house standing there simply. I can’t help but wonder if in a hundred years these people who lived in Lawrence would know what happened here? The family that was lost here? Maybe not physically but you can trace everything back to this simple house, where these boys lost a piece of themselves no matter how young they were. You can still feel it in the air now, in this car with Dean's head hung low as he peers up at his old house, the only and last house he’s ever had.

“You gonna be all right, man?” Sam asks, trying to catch his brother's eyes. Dean swallow’s thickly, “Let me get back to you on that.” We exit the safety of the car and with each step forward the weight of this settles on our shoulders, the realness of this all. I know this isn’t about me, but if I let my mind stop focusing on the task at hand I know that it will wisp away to my old house. Just on the other side of town, to every moment I spent wandering the streets with no where particular in mind-

A sharp knocking on the front door snaps me out of my mind. A pretty blonde opens the door, her eyebrows scrunched in what seems like stress, “Yes?” she answers.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—“ Dean begins his lie getting cut off by his brother, “I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean, and our friend Y/N. My brother and I, uh, we used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

“Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.” She laughs lightly. Dean's face drops a little, a mix of curiosity and longing on his face that if I hadn’t seen it before, hadn’t known him so well I wouldn’t have recognized it. “You did?” he asks, and I'd have to think it was a look of longing for his life back then, before he lost his mom, to a life that was so simple and child-like because that might have been the only time he really was a child.

She nods and steps aside, “Come on in.” The inside of the house wasn’t so much different from what I’ve been told about it, she shuts and locks the door behind us and we wait for her to lead us further in before moving. “I’m Jenny by the way” she says moving past us. She leads us into the big kitchen, a young girl doing homework at the table while an adorable jumpy toddler bounces in his little playpen, I can’t help the smile that creeps up on my face at the sight.

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” The toddler chants, bouncing as he speaks.

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie.” She introduces going over to the fridge, taking out a sippy cup and handing it to the bouncy baby. “He has good taste” I laugh, the kid being just so freaking adorable.

Jenny walks over to her daughter, “Sari, this is Sam and Dean, they used to live here. And that’s their friend Y/n.” I smile at the girl who greets us with a small “Hi.” Dean for some reason waved awkwardly at the child, as if he doesn't know how to act around kids when that’s so far from the truth.

“Hey, Sari.” Sam smiles before allowing her to get back to her homework.

“So, you just moved in?” Dean asks, jumping right to it. “Yeah, from Wichita.” Jenny answers, referring to a different part of Kansas.

“You got family here, or….?” Dean continues to ask, and honestly it’s kind of a creepy question. She answers a little hesitantly, “No. I just, uh….needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job –- I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

“Do you like it here?” I ask genuinely. “Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home” She starts looking at the boys as she speaks, “…I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here…but this place has its issues.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks almost a little too quickly.

Jenny sighs, “Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

“I think that’s an easy fix” I try to remain hopeful, it’s not like we can just tell her ‘oh yeah that’s ‘cause your house is probably haunted by a demon or something.’ And under the assumption that it was just faulty wiring, I really wasn’t sure if it was an easy fix. I mean I am no electrician.

“Anything else?” Dean adds in.

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement.” She lists off before pausing for a beat, looking between us nervously, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.” Dean looks a little taken back by this concern, because what was written on his face was far from offense, “No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

“It’s just the scratching, actually.” She answers.

“Mom?” Sari calls out lightly, Jenny kneels down to her daughter waiting for her to continue, “Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

“What, Sari?” Sam asks, confused.

“The thing in my closet.” She answers weakly, and I swear my heart broke a little at the way in which she said it.

“Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets.” Jenny answers softly, reminding me of my mothers soft tone when she spoke to us. Jenny looks up at the boys, “Right?”

Sam stumbles over his words as he answers, “Right. No, no, of course not.”

“She had a nightmare the other night.” Jenny explains, a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

Sari shakes her head, “I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom –- and it was on fire.”

Uh oh.

~~~~~~~~

“You hear that? A figure on fire.” Sam whisper-shouts, mainly to his brother who was walking a little too quickly then necessary to his car. The man in question turns around swiftly, “And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?”

“Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.” Sam bites back.

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin’ true.” Dean snaps.

Sam’s eyes were wide with panic, “Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

“I don’t know!” Dean snaps.

Back and forth they fight like two dogs having a barking match from just over the fence. “Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?” Sam starts again.

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

“Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get ‘em out of that house.”

“And we will.”

“No, I mean now.”

“And how you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she’s gonna believe?”

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

“Both of you, stop!” I nearly shout, both boys going quiet, “Look” I sigh. “I get this is scary and all but you two bickering isn’t going to get us anywhere! And if we want to help that nice family we have to think logically. We don’t know what we’re dealing with, maybe it’s something else or maybe we have to prepare ourselves for the fact that it is that monster.

Either way we can’t just run into this with assumptions or lead on feeling alone, okay? ‘Cause that’s how we mess up and wind up dead and I don’t know ‘bout you boys but i’m not quite craving the taste of death just yet.” I take a deep breath before continuing, “So, let’s pretend this is any ol’ case, any other hunt. What do we do first?”

“Research” Dean mumbles as if he was a kid who got caught doing something wrong, which arguably isn’t so far from the truth.

“Check our bases, dig into the history” Sam adds.

“Exactly” I smile, “Good job”

Dean opens the driver seat door, getting in as he speaks, “Except this time, we already know what happened.”

Sam and I followed suit, “Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?” he asks. Dean looks around a little uncomfortable, “About that night, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Not much. I remember the fire…the heat.” He pauses, “And then I carried you out the front door.”

“You did?” Sam asks surprised.

Dean scuffs, starting the car and pulling out of the spot, “Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

Sam shakes his head, “No.”

Dean continues, “And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was….was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

“And he never had a theory about what did it?” Sam questions further, and up until now I didn’t realize how much he was kept in the dark about such a significant moment in his life.

Dean shrugs, “If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.” Sam starts again, “Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

Dean again looks around uncomfortably, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, “Yeah. We’ll talk to Dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

Sam notices this obvious movement like I did and pauses for a moment, you could see the gears turning in his head, “Does this feel like just another job to you?” Dean clears his throat, suddenly jerking the car off to the left side of the road right up to the curb, the car poorly parked, “I’ll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom.” The second he finishes his sentence he’s out of the car and walking away into some local business that I couldn’t quite see the name of.

“I- I don’t understand him” Sam suddenly says as he watches his brother leave, turning in the passenger seat to talk to me properly, “It would be so much easier if he just…” He sighs, “talked to me.”

“I… don’t want to excuse his actions because you are right, but at the same time you know he was never taught how to be vulnerable.” I try to explain, carefully choosing my words knowing there were eggshells surrounding our feet. He then mumbles something incoherently about their childhood, he looks back up at me, “you know, you don’t really talk about your childhood either.”

“Maybe it’s just something about Kansas” I joke, he laughs lowly, “But I ,uh, I would like to tell you about it…someday…” I offer shyly, trying to offer him something in a moment where he has nothing

“I’d like that, at least I could get closer to one of you” Sam smiles, sadly.

“Hey and maybe it will open the door to encourage Dean to speak up” I say.

“Yeah you know that’s not gonna happen” He scuffs.

“Well, I was trying to be a little optimistic.”

When Dean came back to the car he was dead quiet, his eyes were glossy but he refused to talk. It wasn’t uncommon for him, not one bit.

Sitting in the back of the Impala, I watched the buildings and trees pass by. All blocks I was familiar with even if it was far from where I had actually lived, but when you're lonely you tend to find walking for an eternity isn’t so bad. Funnily enough, sitting in the back of this car felt eerily similar to when I was a child, my dad as quiet as an owl, a then changed man having lost his world. Only, he had forgotten my brother and I had lost her too, and that we were still around to begin with.

Dean stared at the road like my dad had all those years ago, so deeply as if they were to look away it would disappear right beneath them. Then Sam sat in the passenger seat looking between his brother and out the window not knowing what to say, like my brother always did. And I of course still played the same role because some things never change, some feelings never do fully leave.

Dean suddenly clears his throat, “Alright, up ahead is an old pal of dads.” Just as suddenly as he said it, he also hadn’t given us time to say anything before pulling over once more, this time in front of a mechanic's place. A sign reading “Guenther’s Auto Repair” in big red letters hung above a large garage unit. The smell of metal and grease breeze by my nose as I exit the car, following after the two taller men with what I thought was a forgotten sadness now back. I can’t imagine how they must feel, how Dean must feel.

They effortlessly found and began a discussion with the owner, easily lying about being cops which felt especially wrong today. It felt wrong to lie to anyone from the town I pretty much grew up in, even if I never knew any of them.

“So you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?” Dean asks the older man. I knew their father was a mechanic but hadn’t known he had his own garage and partner.

“Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh…twenty years since John disappeared. So why the cops interested all of a sudden?” He says, whipping his dirty hands on a rag stained with car grease.

“Oh, we’re re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of ‘em.” Dean answers smoothly, and I guess it isn’t technically a lie either. He accepts the answer with no further, visible, speculation, “Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?”

“Well, whatever you remember, you know, whatever sticks out in your mind.” Dean suggests.

“Well…he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that.” He laughs. “And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It’s that whole Marine thing. But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids.” To that I have to stop myself from reacting, for some reason I can’t picture John being anything less of what he is now, in terms of strictness and toughness.

“But that was before the fire?” Sam points out.

He nods, “That’s right.”

“He ever talk about that night?” Sam adds. He seems to think for a moment, “No, not at first. I think he was in shock.”

“Right. But eventually? What did he say about it?” Sam clarifies.

“Oh, he wasn’t thinkin’ straight. He said somethin’ caused that fire and killed Mary.”

“He ever say what did it?” Dean asks this time.

“Nothin’ did it. It was an accident –- an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin’. I begged him to get some help, but….” He explains.

“But what?”

“Oh, he just got worse and worse.” He answered, sympathy written all over his face.

“How?” Dean asks carefully.

“He started readin’ these strange ol’ books. He started goin’ to see this palm reader in town.” He says, suddenly catching my attention, an air of familiarity surrounding it.

“Palm reader? Uh, do you have a name?” Dean questions. I scrunch my eyebrows together trying to remember why this was familiar.

He responds at the same time it suddenly hits me, “No” he scuffs.

The name leaves my mouth in quiet thought, “Missouri Moseley.”

All three of them look at me strangely, before Dean grabs hold of my upper arm, throwing the man a smile and a “Excuse us.” He begins pulling me away from the garage and back to the car, his brother following after us after he had thanked the man.

“Where’d you get that name from?” Dean asks me sternly, looking down at me with sharp curious eyes, his grip on my arm never faulting.

I look up at him, his green eyes piercing mine, expectantly, but I find myself at a loss for words. Each syllable ready to be spoken but dying on my tongue, all in the fault of once more feeling like my younger self. Sam reaches for his brother's shoulder, almost pulling him away from me, “Ease up, Dean.” He shakes his brother off, but listens, releasing my arm and swallowing thickly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s okay” I cut him off quickly. I wasn’t scared of him at that moment, but of the past and I knew he was too. We all were.

“I remember your dad came over and mentioned that name, along with her being the real deal. I just don’t remember what the conversation was about, I mean it had to be years ago…” I feel my eyebrows scrunch together again as I try to recall more, glimpses of the memory popping up. Our dads sitting on the long vintage couches my mom had bought for the house while me and my brother ran outside to play, “It was at the original house, m-maybe a year before we moved to Kansas.”

“So three years after mom died” Sam nods.

“Yeah that seems about right, but I’m not sure if that encounter was like right after your dad met this Missouri or some time after.” I add

“It sounds familiar. '' Dean breathed out before rounding the car to the trunk, digging through it before pulling out the journal. “In Dad’s journal…here, look at this.” He flips it open, handing it off to his brother, “First page, first sentence, read that.”

Sam takes the book, reading the sentence out loud, “I went to Missouri and I learned the truth.”

“I always thought he meant the state.” Deans shrugs.

Missouri’s house was a cute little two story place. I admire the light brown wood paneling and stained glass windows, something I knew my mom would have loved. Dean and Sam sat squished together on a small couch, all of us waiting for her to be finished with her client. I choose to stand, not only to see them both quietly fight to sit on the couch but also to slightly look around the place without wandering around.

A round faced, warm brown skinned lady with big curly hair tied back in a ponytail escorts a man out of her house, “All right, there. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you.” She tells him, her voice a natural soft and sweet tone, accompanied with a southern accent.

She closes the front door behind him, turning to face us, “Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.” Her sweet voice does nothing to soften her blunt statement, my eyes go wide with the comment.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asks her,

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news.” She answers simply, causing the room to fall quiet for a beat, “Well? Y/n, Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain’t got all day.” She leaves the room, I follow after her only pausing when I realize the boys weren’t following. I turn back towards them waving them over, they share a look before getting up and following.

“Well, lemme look at ya.” She laughs, “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She points a finger at Dean, “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.” A burst of laughter slips through my lips before I can control myself, his face falls and he glares at her.

Her gaze turns to me, my laughter dying out but a permanent smile left on my face, “Oh, you never lost your beauty” She smiles.

“You knew me when I was younger?” I ask, confused.

“Well of course, I knew your mother. Bless her soul” She answers, only leaving me more confused ‘cause my mom never mentioned her and I would sure remember such a sweet and funny woman.

“We helped each other out back then”, she explains, “She would always show me pictures of you and your brother. You were always a smiley girl, it’s good to see you didn’t lose that. Your mother would be glad too.” A warmth blossoms in my heart at that, my smile softens with me and it was like something I didn’t even know was within was fulfilled. It was hard to find new memories of my mom when I really didn’t know anyone who had known her, other than our family, to ask. Missouri hadn’t given me a full in depth memory and yet, it was enough. Enough to know someone else clearly adored my mom and had seen her in the same light I did. I don’t know why my mom never told us about her, but for some reason I didn’t feel the need to ask.

She gives me one last smile before giving her attention to Sam, she grabs his hand, her face falling, “Oh, honey…I’m sorry about your girlfriend.” A wave of shock clearly passes over the boys face, “And your father –- he’s missin’?” she continued.

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asks, clearly forgetting she is a psychic.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now.” She explains.

“Well, where is he? Is he okay?” Dean rapidly spews out.

She half shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?” He snaps back, far too hostile.

She gives him a weird look, “Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air.” A laugh passes through my lips before I could stop myself, I nudge Dean's shoulder who glares sharply at me before turning that look to Missouri, only furthering my spits of giggles that I try to bite back.

Her demeanor changes back to gentle, “Sit, please.” We listen to her, I took a seat beside Sam so that I wasn’t squished between both boys. Missouri suddenly snaps at Dean, “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything.” Dean argues, his voice seemingly an octave higher- like a child.

“But you were thinkin’ about it.” She answers.

“Oh, I like you” I say through my laughter, it was quite the breath of fresh air to see someone put gruff ‘macho man’ Dean in his place.

Sam gets back on topic, whipping the smile that formed on his face, “Okay. So, our dad –- when did you first meet him?”

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say…I drew back the curtains for him.” She responds.

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?” Dean asks.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing” She explains.

“And could you?” Sam asks

She shakes her head, “I…”

“What was it?”

She answers softly, “I don’t know. Oh, but it was evil.”, She pauses for a beat, “So…you think somethin’ is back in that house?”

“Definitely” Sam breathes.

She shakes her head again, “I don’t understand.”

“What?” Sam asks.

“I haven’t been back inside, but I’ve been keepin’ an eye on the place, and it’s been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin’ up now?” She explains.

“I don’t know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once –- it just feels like something’s starting.” Sam says, eyebrows scrunched in worry.

“That’s a comforting thought.” Dean mumbles.

~~~~~~~~~

The ride back to the Winchesters house was the light in this complex time. The entire ride Missouri lectured Dean on his driving saying he was just a little too reckless and was gonna get us all killed despite it being a generally short one. They bickered back and forth a while until Dean gave up grumbling something below his breath, causing another snap response from the woman herself.

When we finally arrived Dean quickly got out of the car before anyone else could even register being parked, I genuinely don’t think I've ever seen him happy to be out of Baby. He had very obviously, and purposefully, positioned himself so that he was standing next to me away from Missouri, in fact two people away as she stood on the other side of Sammy. I searched for Dean's hand, my fingers brushed against his larger rougher hand. I clasped it gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze to hopefully ease his tension, caused by the beef he had with the nice lady that was helping us to begin with, even though I most definitely found the whole thing hilarious. Just as Sam knocked on the door I released Dean's hand, bringing both my hands to clasp in front of me. A peak of nervousness rests in my gut as I feel his gaze on me, I ignore it, focusing my eyes forward while I rock on the balls of my feet.

Jenny answers the door, her blond hair messy and clear stress present in the crinkled corner of her eyes and worry etched into her pupils. She holds her baby, Ritchie, close to her chest, “Sam, Dean, Y/N. What are you doing here?”

Sam smiles at the blond, “Hey, Jenny. This is our friend, Missouri.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house. You know, for old time’s sake” Dean chimes in.

She scrunches her nose, “You know, this isn’t a good time. I’m kind of busy.”

“Listen, Jenny, it’s important.” Dean tries to explain before Missouri smacks him hard on the back of the head, far harder than I ever do, “Ow!” He yelps, turning around swiftly towards the shorter woman, “How did you-!” He nearly yells holding the back of his head. He looks at her with big wild eyes, his yelling coming from the fact she was able to quietly get behind Sam and I to hit him.

Missouri cuts him off, “Give the poor girl a break, can’t you see she’s upset?” She then turns to Jenny, “Forgive this boy, he means well, he’s just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out.” Dean looks further stunned.

“About what?” Jenny asks, adjusting her hold on her kid.

“About this house.” Missouri answers.

“What are you talking about?” Jenny looks between us all, nervously.

“I think you know what I’m talking about. You think there’s something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?” Missouri says.

“Who are you?” Jenny asks just above a whisper.

“We’re people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you’re gonna have to trust us, just a little.” Missouri smiles comfortingly but even so Jenny looks unsure.

She seems to go over it in her head before finally sighing, “Alright.”

The four of us stand in Sari’s bedroom, Jenny having given us room to do what we need to while she waits downstairs with her kids. Sari’s room was a dark blue, a contrast to her pink and white furniture and toys.

“If there’s a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it.” Missouri states, looking around the room carefully from where she stood.

“Why?” Sam asks.

“This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened.” She answers, looking around the room. Dean pulls out his DIY EMF from the inside of his coat pocket, “That an EMF?” Missouri asks.

“Yeah.” Dean smiles smugly.

“Amateur.” Missouri says lowly, I don’t know why she was targeting Dean specifically but his reaction to her was too amusing to really ponder it.

The EMF beeps frantically, “I don’t know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain’t the thing that took your mom.” Missouri announces.

“Wait, are you sure?” Sam asks frantically, getting a confident nod, “How do you know?”

“It isn’t the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It’s somethin’ different.” She answers, pausing for a beat before adding, “Can you feel it Y/N?”

My eyes widened in shock, “I’m sorry what?”

“You still got a lot to learn ‘bout your abilities'' She responds waving me over, “c’mere, you might be able to sense the energy.”

I hesitantly place my bag down before slowly walking over to her, she either senses my nervousness or reads my mind because she explains what she means, “Witches tend to have the best intuition and connection to the natural world, you should be able to sense energies especially spiritual ones with a second sight.”

She situates me in front of her with my back towards her, her hands clasp my arms tightly as they rest at my side. “Close your eyes, and just like meditation let everythin’ else fall away.”

I follow her instructions, my eyes fluttering shut reluctantly. I feel incredibly silly as I take a deep breath, the sage-y perfume of the woman behind me filling my nose. I breathe out slowly, forcing my mind to shut out the real world, which isn’t as hard as it should be with the quiet room and my nearly regular meditating. Complete darkness surrounds me as if the room itself had fallen away with all the people in it too, just me floating in an abyss.

I focused more closely on the house itself, extending my awareness far out to the block and then as if a dark fog hugged it I zeroed in on the house. Using my conscious self I pictured what it was like to walk through the house this time with a deep focus and new eyes.

With each step I ventured further into the house cautiously, a buzzing feeling rang through the house like when two strong magnets fight for equilibrium with a clatter. But despite the buzzing a physical warm glow emitted from the home's edges and like a hand reaching out it tried to conquer more of the house, yet it couldn’t. A force I couldn't quite tell held it back. The hair on the back of my neck stood tall, a cold chill running down my spine, I shrugged it off as I walked back up the stairs and down the hall to my physical self.

My foot only breached the doorway when a dreadful feeling filled the halls as if rooted beneath the wallpaper, a twinge of fear made its home in my stomach. I had never done this before, never went into my mind to feel the very things I hunt. I have no experience here, this is not my domain. They must know that as hushed murmurs fluttered around me with voices I couldn’t detect but knew they didn’t belong to anyone in the room. They wouldn’t be able to talk to me here so normally, maybe Missouri but certainly not Sam or Dean.

The murmurs became louder, each whisper jumbled over the next, talking over each other to the point of no recognition. My back hits the hard archway of the door's entrance, the sheer loudness of combined voices knocking me off balance. I braced myself against the door, nails biting into wood, my eyes shut tightly in effort to focus even further.

An unfamiliar cold hand brushes my forearm dragging its fingers up to my elbow as if standing beside me, I swiftly turn around backing up a few feet to see nothing near me. Another brush touches me, this time the back of my neck accompanied by a hot breath fanning by my ear. I don’t move away. this is not my domain, but it will be, and I will not show fear now. Latin spews from its mouth flowing right into my ear, a simple teasing statement, “Another toy.”

My eyes shoot open, pupils blown wide as my eyes adjust to the lighting as well as my mind being back in focus of the physical realm. My heart beats harshly against my chest, my lungs heaving with adrenaline.

A large hand clasps around my upper arm tightly, I nearly stumble back a step before my mind finally catches up with the present. “What is it?” Dean spews out quickly, his green eyes nearly crazed with worry.

I open my mouth to answer only to have Missouri answer for me instead, “You saw them.”

“F-felt more like” I stammer the feeling of its touch still lingering.

“What are they doing here?” Dean asks, looking between Missouri and I for answers, his hand still on my arm. Thing is I don’t have an answer, all that creepy spirit touching and I still don’t know everything.

But of course Missouri does, “They’re here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected.”

“This house buzzes with energy, literally you can feel it attracting paranormal energy. There’s two here right now…ones in the room. My head turns towards the closet, “A poltergeist. I’m not sure if it sees it as a game or what but I think it wants Jenny and her kids dead.” I know I’m right when Missouri nods her head.

“You both said there was more than one spirit.”

“There is. I just can’t quite make out the second one.” Missouri answers before adding, “You pick up anythin’”

“Only that it felt…good, if that makes sense. It was very different from the other. It was like this warmth trying to consume the house or really rid the house of its evil.” I answer by trying to make sense of everything that I have experienced.

“You’re sure of this?” Dean asks me, gaining my attention again by squeezing my arm before finally letting go.

“Yes.” I breathe simply, failing to explain that my only other hunch was the fact that it hadn’t been bothering me or I suppose terrorizing me like the poltergeist had with its touching.

A hard determined look sharpens on Dean's face, “Well, one thing’s for damn sure –- nobody’s dyin’ in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?”

“We’re gonna cleanse the house” Missouri answers simply, “Y/N, what you have in that bag of yours?”

A devilish smirk stretches itself on my face, “You wanna do purifying bags?” I ask back instead of answering. I walk back over to my discarded bag picking it up and swinging it over my shoulder, “Let’s do this downstairs, don’t want to make a mess in the kids room” Missouri says, answering my question without really answering it.

“Copy” I smile, taking the lead as we exit the room. With a sudden need for my specialty I found a new pep in my step as I quickly descended the stairs beelining for the nearest table. I carefully placed my bag down on the dining room table, pulling out my spell book marked and written in along with small corked glass bottles of different roots and herbs I carry. “When did you put all of this in your bag?” Sam asks, picking up a vial of crossroad dirt.

“Before I left with Dean to come get you, ‘cause you never know when you're gonna have to put together a spell or a potion of sorts” I answer, pulling out a couple empty small brown pouches.

“So you’ve been carrying this ‘round with you this whole time?” Dean asks this time.

“Mhm” I hum as I sit getting right to work.

With a little bag in front of me I put in each ‘ingredient’, for lack of a better word, not needing to look at my book for the right amount in each.

“Well don’t be lazy, help the girl!” Missouri lectures hitting Dean on the back of the head again. He grumbles no longer snapping back with something, he sits down next to me looking for direction.

With the feeling of his gaze on the side of my face I swirl my finger towards my spell book, a purple haze floating through the air turning the pages of my book to the right section for him to follow without me having to stop my work. He doesn't say anything as he takes off his jacket and rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, putting his forearms on display as he picks up bits of root, unfortunately catching my attention enough to pause my work and stare at him.

His eyes move from my book to the bag he was working on, his eyes sharp and focus as it passes across the words on the page. He moves his hand to the book using a finger to drag across the page underneath each word, the veins in his hand bulging as he does so. His eyebrows scrunch and his jaw ticks as he asks, “What is this stuff anyway?”

“That’s angelica root your holding” I mentioned first, referring to the fuzzy green plant in his hand. “And that’s van van oil, crossroad dirt, sage” I point to each bottle, naming off each ingredient we’re using.

He nods as I speak, his eyes still holding the same level of focus. From his listening to the gentle touch he used as he handled each bottle, all I could feel was pure endearment. The sudden quietness in the room made me painfully aware of the fact that we were the only ones left in said room and that Missouri along with Sam had left at some point, most likely to talk to Jenny.

“What are we supposed to do with it?” Dean questioned, knocking his knee into mine to get my attention once more. A bashful smile breaks its way onto my face at his touch, “We put them inside the walls of each corner of each floor of the house, north, south, east, west.”

“We’ll be punchin’ holes in the dry wall. Jenny’s gonna love that.” Dean points out.

My lips formed a tight line, cringing, “Yeah…this is just how this goes but to be fair some holes in the walls are better than evil spirits.”

He huffed a laugh, “And this will destroy the spirits?”

“It should, it's supposed to purify the house completely, we’ll probably each take a floor but we do have to work quickly because when they catch on to what we’re doing, they get seriously pissed.” I answered

“Won’t they catch on with us doing it here?”

“You would think that but spirits don’t always know until it’s actually happening like when we make the holes then it’s a big deal.” I inform, tying off another bag.

“Huh” He replies as he continues to work.

Soon silence falls upon us while we work, our arms brushing against each other every now and then.

“Are holes in drywall a hard fix?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence, worried that the spirits won’t be the only pissed ones.

A deep chuckle passes through his lips, “That depends, sweetheart, but it should be.” He went on to explain the logistics of it, and while it wasn’t something I really cared to know about I didn’t stop him from explaining.

By the time his explanation of spackles and walls was over our purifying bags were done too.

Missouri and Sam walk back into the room, the floor creaking slightly underneath them. “You guys almost done?” Sam asked

“Yup” I hummed, “The bags are all done just gotta finish cleaning up”

“Good. Jenny and her kids just left, they’ll be back in an hour or two” Sam explained, placing a bunch of heavy items on the table. “I brought these in from the car, take your pick.”

I look up at the heavy mass, a hammer, a small ax, and two crowbars lay on the table. Though it is an odd collection of weapons as long as it is capable of making a hole in the wall it doesn't really matter, Sam picks up the hammer testing the weight of it in his hand.

With every part of the plan settled I throw the rest of the vials and leftover bags in my bag worrying about organization later, gently tucking my thick spell book into my bag I turn swiftly around, “Let’s get it done.”

“I’ll take this floor” Dean says, picking up his four bags, “Sammy you take upstairs, and you two can take the basement.”

“And remember you need to put a bag in each corner, north, south, east, west.” I order as everyone has the right amount of bags and a weapon of choice.

A collective nod was all we needed to spring into action, with the cold heavy crowbar in my hand I took the lead down the basement Missouri following closely after me. Without any words needed, we split up her heading to the west side of the floor and me to the east.

A chill runs up my spine, an uncomfortable feeling floating in the air, I roll my shoulders trying to rid myself of the feeling. My knees hit the floor, the coldness seeping through my pants. I knock on the wall in an attempt to hear a hollow part, Dean having mentioned before that would be the easiest way to make a hole. My knuckles hit the wall in at least ten separate spots before it no longer sounds solid. I stand back up for better leverage before changing my hold on the crowbar to be horizontal, bashing the end of it into the wall repeatedly until it cracks.

A heavy sliding noise shuffles behind me, I snap my head to the sound of a large dark table moving across the floor right into Missouri. My mouth opens to scream her name in warning but just as the first syllable leaves my mouth a nail comes flying at my face. Out of reflex alone I send the nail flying to the left, the invisible force of my power altering its trajectory. My eyes follow where the nail came from, an open red tool box, more nails come flying my way and each time I knock them away. Knowing it wouldn’t stop I gripped the crowbar harder using only a glimpse back at the wall to know where I was aiming for. While I used one hand and half my focus on changing the direction of the nails I used my other to slam the crowbars end into the already cracked wall but only when it sounded like it broke through enough did I glimpse back again. With another look forward at the coming nails, only one more left, I waited until it got closer, the old nail zooming toward my eye. Just as it got but an inch away I dropped to the floor, turning my body as I went, throwing the purification bag in.

I got up quickly, dropping my crowbar, almost tripping over my other foot as I ran to Missouri, pushing the table away from her, throwing another bag into the hole she had already made before she got attacked. She breathes heavily, a hand on her chest. “You okay?” I ask, putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her away from the table. She nods her head, handing me her two bags, wordlessly telling me to finish the floor.

I grip the bags in one hand as I pick up my discarded crowbar, seeing the nails that flew at me sticking out of the walls. I head over to the undisturbed wall slamming the crowbar into the wall, not even attempting to do the knocking at this point. While I threw in the third bag, worry consumed me at the realization that the spirits must be attacking the boys too. Without wasting any more time I go to the last undisturbed wall, again slamming the crowbar into it. Call it paranoia or instinct that made me turn so that my shoulder was facing the wall instead of my face to see if another attack would be coming. Either way it was that alone that saved me from the poltergeist throwing a wooden chair at my head. I duck again just in time for the chair to smash into pieces above me, wood undoubtedly falling into my hair.

“Stop throwing stuff!” I yell at the air itself or really the incredibly annoying poltergeist. With a huff I throw in the last bag, all the activity silencing on this floor. I get up walking over to Missouri as I pick out chunks of wood from my hair, as soon as I get close enough she reaches up and takes a particularly large piece of chair out of my hair showing it to me with a laugh before tossing it somewhere on the floor.

“Y/N!” A voice yells with a strain, clearly coming from a distance away. Right away I recognize the voice, Deans, I go running climbing up the stairs two at a time. Forget about my hair, forget about leaving Missouri behind (no offense).

The ground floor is practically untouched other than the clear mess that is peeking out from the kitchen, I look around quickly and see no one, “Dean?!” I shout back evident fear in my voice, getting an immediate “Up here.” Slight relief hits me as I again sprint up the stairs, twirling around the banister the second I reach the second floor seeing the closest open door. Forgetting about precautions I immediately approach the door, my hand on the archway when I see Dean on the floor cradling a hurt-limp Sam.

“Wha-“ I begin saying only to lose my train of thought.

“Let’s get him up” Missouri suddenly says from behind me, very calmly. She nudges past me heading straight for the boys, but neither of them move. She leans down beside Sam pressing two fingers to the side of his neck, “He’s still alive, he’ll be just fine.”

He gives her a curt nod before leaning back on his feet and standing, dragging his brother up with him, just as he does so Sam comes to. His eyes fluttering open and close, “It’s okay Sammy, just gonna bring you downstairs” Dean tells him, putting his brother's arm around his shoulder.

Carefully he walks his brother downstairs, Sam grumbling something halfway through before going limp again. Finally they reach the living room, Dean carefully lays his brother on the couch then moves to sit on the coffee table right across from him.

“He’ll be alright” I say softly, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.

“I know” he replies.

“Were you able to finish the floor?” I ask even though maybe it wasn’t the proper time to.

“No. I was hurled with knives the second I made the hole, then I heard something upstairs and ran to see if Sammy was okay…I don’t think he finished either” He explains, his eyebrows scrunched together.

“It’s okay, i’ll go finish it and you guys can stay here, watch over him” I say, giving his shoulder a little squeeze before moving my hand away.

“Are you crazy?! That’s dangerous. Did you not just see what happened to Sam?!” Dean shoots back, not quite yelling but his voice is definitely louder than needed.

I smiled at him sweetly knowing this was coming from a place of worry and not an incompetent sort of deal, “Don’t worry I can take care of myself just fine, I did so down stairs when we finished up. Got some nails thrown at me, a chair and a table, you know just the usual playing house with the ghost.”

“That’s not the point. I’m coming with you.” He stands up abruptly and I swear I saw his jaw tick.

“Okay. I’m not gonna argue with you” I respond with humor in my voice. “But. If you did want to stay behind to watch your brother I wouldn't fault you for it either.”

He looks at me strangely with those beautiful green eyes before diverting them just past me, “I’m coming with you.”

“Right.” I smile “‘You got the bags?”

He answers by shuffling through his jacket pockets and pulling out a bag from each, he holds them up in an almost teasing way. I take a half step forward, grabbing a bag right out of his hand, only then realizing how close my small step puts us, having to lean my head back far enough to look up at him comfortably. But I don’t move away as I ask him, “What about your axe?”

He tilts his head down slightly towards me, his breathe hot on my face, “Dropped it in the kitchen”

“Good.” I say, nearly and pathetically getting distracted by our closeness…and his eyes… and his lips. “ ‘Cause I have no idea where I left that crowbar”

He laughs and steps away, his shoulder brushing mine as he walks away to the kitchen. Before I can turn to follow him Missouri meets my eyes, giving me a pointed-knowing look about what just happened. ‘Shut up’ I playfully mouth.

Finally I turn around following after the man in question. He comes out of the kitchen holding the small axe but just behind him is a mess. The kitchen looks like a tornado went through it with draws and cabinets open, utensils on the floor, broken dishes scattered around, the table turned over with knives sticking out of it (a tornado could not do that but the point of the mess still stands.) I look back at Dean then behind him repeatedly, “Did you have fun?” I remark sarcastically.

“Oh, not as much fun as you had” He replies gruffly, reaching up to my hair, his fingers sinking in as he ruffles out small chips of wood. My cheeks feel warm at the small contact and even more so when he pulls away and gives me that smirk. Then he walks away towards the back of the house with a cocky look in his eye like he knew exactly what he had done. I take a short deep breath before following him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later every purifying bag is put in place and Sammy is conscious and now we stand in the disaster that is the kitchen, broken cabinets and chair bits on the floor as well as a collection of utensils, all just to see the bunt of the fight.

“‘You sure this is over?” Sam questions, his voice a little rough.

“I’m sure. Why? Why do you ask?” Missouri answers.

“Never mind.” He sighs, “It’s nothin’, I guess.”

The front door opens followed by footsteps, “Hello? We’re home.” Jenny calls out before finding us in the kitchen pure shock written on her face, “What happened?”

“Hi, sorry. Um, we’ll pay for all of this.” Sam word vomits, the words spilling out quickly and anxiously. Both Dean and I’s heads snap towards him, I seriously want to ask him ‘with what money???’ But before anyone can fathom a word Missouri beat us to it, “Don’t you worry. Dean’s gonna clean up this mess.” Again with her (maybe) uncalled targeting I have to bite back a smirk, meanwhile Dean stands unmoving his eyebrows scrunched looking at the shorter woman with a total bewildered expression.

“Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop.” She adds, and I don’t know how she has this much power but he listens and begins to walk away or really shuffle away, “And don’t cuss at me!” She lectures.

Laughter slips through my lips as he mutters under his breath, Sam joining in on the hilarious nature that is his brother being bossed around.

Wiping a tear out of the corner of my eye I touch Sam’s shoulder, “I’m gonna go get him and fix this up…” I twirl my finger slightly to signal I mean magically, “Bring Jenny inside somewhere.” He nods, “Okay but you should really let him suffer”

I laugh again, rolling my eyes as I move away.

I find Dean standing in front of a broom closet trying to balance several cleaning objects in his hands at once. I admire his effort but there’s just no way anyone could clean that kitchen when it’s quite literally just destroyed. I grabbed a broom from him that was seconds away from falling, “Not to ruin your fun but I figured it would be easier to use magic on the kitchen than a mop.”

“Thank god” He sighs, shoving everything back in the closet including the broom I held.

Back in the kitchen I try not to get stressed at just how bad it is. Taking a calming breath I walk over to the kitchen counters, closing my eyes, I feel my hair move around me slightly from a small drift in the room, my body stands completely still as I let my hands feel the cool counter below me and the steadiness of it all. As my body relaxes and my shoulders drop, relieving its tension I become a conduit for magic, a dance of ethereal threads weaving through me. The energy flowed from my core to my fingertips, the flow gracefully extending to every nook and cranny. As if tracing an intricate pattern, it embraced the room, coaxing broken shards and scattered pieces back into harmony. The air felt electric with the essence of restoration, and the kitchen hummed with the soothing melody of enchantment.

When I open my eyes again, I feel a gaze on me. I turn my whole body, so that I was standing sideways, to it and of course it’s Dean, he meets my eyes, his mouth just slightly agape and I can only imagine what the swirling of purple energy around the room fixing items must have looked like. His green eyes are slightly glossy with what is maybe curiousity or amazement, either way it was a weird look. Before I could question him I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a tall familiar figure. Sam stands by the kitchen archway waving his hand, signaling it was time to go.

Hours later darkness consumes the Impala. After dropping Missouri back home Sam insisted we came back to the house for a stakeout. It was hard to argue with someone who had a bad feeling over something that is quite literally life or death, so we stayed. We’d been in here so long in fact that I’d taken to lying down flat in the backseat, my legs propped up on the seats (shoes off so Dean wouldn’t complain but at least I got to showcase my cute dragonfly socks).

I stare up at the beige-ish interior roof, my hands laying across my chest. I breathe in and out evenly, but with the prospect of being bored, memories of my life here swarm my head and suddenly I miss my mom more than I've had in a long time. If I focus hard enough on the roof I can still hear the remnants of her laughter and I could see her smile, the one I inherited, on her soft face. That old longing, that old sadness that I thought I was over fills my heart, its hands creep up on it clasping it tightly. It’s been years. So many years since she’s been gone and yet still this feeling—this rawness in my chest, this endless longing is home in my body just as it was the first time around.

I miss my mom.

I want to cry and I want her back, tears threaten my eyes and that stupid tightness in my throat prevails almost like it’s choking me, a tightness that’s so painful I want to rip my throat out. I swallow forcefully, I hate this feeling and I hate death and I hate that I'm feeling this in the back of the car with my best friends just right up front. It’s too vulnerable, it’s too open, too close to home…I want to go home.

I want to go home.

I shut my eyes tightly trying to erase these feelings to move them back in the dusty box they had sat in. But it isn’t that easy and I know it isn’t so instead I breathe deeply and choose to listen to Dean and Sam talk, focusing on the up and down of their words and the softness of each syllable.

“All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asks, impatience clear on his tongue.

“I don’t know. I just…” Sam sighs, “…still have a bad feeling.”

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over.” Dean explains.

“Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.” Sam answers.

“Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now.” Dean responds and I hear him slide down his seat, probably closing his eyes in the process, “Like Y/N back there” he adds, softer, and even with my eyes closed a smile produces itself on my face. The small warmth that spreads in my chest fends off the grief, at least enough for it not to be at the forefront of my mind.

The quiet peace that falls over the Impala is short lived, Sam suddenly yelling, “Guys. Look” My eyes shoot open, “Dean!” He hits his brother's shoulder.

I sit up quickly catching a glimpse of Jenny yelling by her window, with nothing more to be said- we jump out of the car. I shuffled to the car door, leaving my shoes behind, the second I’m out and the door is slammed shut I run after the boys who were only two paces ahead. “You two grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny.” Dean commands as Sam tries the door which of course is locked. Dean pushes him slightly to the side, he takes a step back lifting his leg and kicking in the door. Broken pieces of wood stick out from the side of it.

The dark wooden floors are cold beneath my sock-covered feet, each step up the staircase seems far too long even as we reach the top. At the top Dean stops at a door close to the stairs but I don’t use any more focus to take anything else as Sam and I run down the hall, “Get Sari! I’ll get the baby!” I yell after him. Stopping at the closest door I swing it open only to reveal a bathroom, I curse underneath my breath before spinning around to the door right across the hall. Once more I swing it open, this time revealing a baby room with a white crib in the middle of it. I rush over only slowing to not scare Richie as I approach, somehow he’s still asleep wrapped up in his little blanket.

Carefully I reach in the crib scooping him up from underneath his upper back, my other arm going for his legs. Once in my arms I rearrange him so my dominant hand rests on his lower back while the crook of my other arm cradles his little head, just like holding a baby doll except this one is way cuter and also very alive. Standing back at my full height I fix his blanket around him before exiting the room. I know Sam can handle himself so I head towards the stairs, the baby had to be the priority right now. I quickly descend the stairs, only half way down when I feel Sam close behind, a relief hitting me.

My feet only just hit the ground level when Sam calls my name, swiftly I turn towards him Sari in his arms.

“Y/N, you need to take the kids and go outside.” He orders, placing Sari on the floor.

“Okay, what about you aren’t you coming?” I rushed out, cradling Richie in one arm so I could take hold of Sari’s hand.

Panic is written all over his face and something else lies in his eyes, “Take them. Don’t look back” And before I can argue any further he’s nudging me forward, reluctantly I go only because I know I can’t help with two kids in my arms. I run towards the door at this point, pulling Sari along with me, just behind me I hear a slam to the floor and I know it’s Sam- relief gone. But even so I rush forward.

The chill breeze of the night hits me hard. Jenny and Dean stand on the edge of the grass line. Only a few paces from them Sari lets go of my hand and runs to her mom, Jenny leaning down to catch her and hold her tightly. “Sam’s inside you have to go now” I speak quickly, my words jumbling over itself. Dean's eyes widen and pure fear fills them, on top of being scared guilt fills me now too. He runs to the front door and I hear it slam loudly. I hand Richie back over to his mom who is very obviously relieved to have him again.

Dean runs back to the Impala pulling out a shotgun and an ax, going right back to the door. I know I could open the door for him, it would be easy and I wouldn’t even break a sweat. Yet, my feet remain planted to the grown, the chaos of it all—the guilt. My purifying bags didn’t work, it nearly got a whole family killed and Sam’s now in trouble too. It’s my fault. It’s my fault.

My feet won’t move, my body won’t react, I can't even redeem myself. I don’t want to lose anyone else, I don’t want to. I can’t.

Move.

Move. Please move, I beg myself— my very being to do something anything but be helpless. I hate being helpless and yet I’m here doing nothing, anxiety and fear encasing me to this spot. I hear Dean hacking away at the door, faint grunts leaving his mouth as he does so but still I can’t move. Sari begins to cry latching on to her moms legs only waking up Ritchie in the process who then begins to cry too. The loud crying rings in my ears, only making my heart beat faster.

Jenny, visibly overwhelmed, wrestles with the challenge of consoling both kids, her distress mirrored in her eyes. Without conscious thought, my arms extend, offering to hold Ritchie. To my surprise, she entrusts the baby to me, planting a tender kiss on his forehead before gathering Sari into her embrace. Sari's legs encircle her mother's waist, a protective hand cradling the back of her head.

Richie moving in my arms breaks me out of my panic, if only because someone in need was right there, someone who surely couldn’t help themselves. I begin to rock him, moving my weight from one foot to another but my stress and worry is still there and he must feel it too because it does barely anything to help. I look back up, Dean is still hacking away at the door, not enough progress has been made. I rearrange the baby, using my free arm I lift up a hand my palm facing towards the direction of the door, with barely any thought needed the door slams open. Dean looks back at me for only a second before running in.

Richie's cries persist as I rock him, murmuring reassurances, "It's okay, everything will be okay." I desperately rack my mind for any calming measures, when I suddenly recall my mother singing me lullabies. But still I struggle to remember any of them, the memory too distant to be anything more than a hymn, instead I decide to softly sing "A Lullaby" by Dear Nora – even though it came out way after my mothers passing it always reminded me of her. And I had always kept a small hope that one day if I were to have kids that I would sing it to them too.

As I move a strand of hair from Richie's face, he begins to settle. My voice trembles with fear, but it seems to have a soothing effect anyways. Richie stops crying, and I meet Jenny's gaze. She offers a sad smile while holding her daughter close.

Both boys came out of that house. Relief had hit me like a ton of bricks, my knees felt wobbly with it. At first they could barely speak, shocked at what they saw but then the police and firefighters came and it was all the usual.

It was hours later until everything was resolved, and it wasn’t until Missouri came over that they actually spilt what happened. Their mom was there, she was the good spirit that I had felt, the one that was fighting off the evil and she did exactly that when it had attacked Sam. Somehow, she was still at the house after all these years protecting it. She had used the last of her abilities to say…sorry.

It’s morning now, Missouri cleared the house for real this time no spirit was left in there. The kids were sleeping still, Jenny was giving the photos she found to Dean and Sam sat with Missouri on the steps talking.

I had nothing to say to anyone in particular so I sat in the Impala, my legs outside the car, digging through my bag, when I finally pulled out my spell book I turned to the purifying page, I looked it over again trying to see if we did something wrong and messed up the amounts. But no. We did it right, but for some reason it didn’t work—it didn’t work and people could have died. Holding the book on my lap I reach up to the top of it, my hand holding the single page ready to tear it out when it’s suddenly taken from my grasp “Hey, what are you doing?!” Dean yells, holding it out of reach.

“It didn’t work. It needs to go, please give it back.” I answered, my jaw clenched.

“This was your moms, you’d hate yourself if you ripped it up.” Dean lectures.

“No I wouldn't, give it back. I need to make sure this never happens again.” I shoot up from my seat reaching up to grab it back but his arm shoots down behind his back.

“Yeah, you would. Sorry to break it to you sweetheart but I know you pretty damn well.”

I don’t care if he’s right. I don’t. That page needs to go, I can’t make this mistake again. I won’t. I reach for it again behind his back but again he moves it, “Dean. I’m not joking around give it back.” I don’t often get angry, but I am.

He looks down at me, his eyes scrunched in confusion and concern, “What’s going on with you?”

I huff, frustrated, “What’s going on is I messed up. Badly. They could have died and don’t try to say I don’t know that for sure because I do. And I know you do too, so I don’t need any comforting lies”

"We screw up, sweetheart. It's part of the gig. But we fixed it. They're alive and kickin', okay?" His words carried that gruff reassurance he always had, even when he was being a bit of a hypocrite. Book at his side, guard lowered just a bit, it was my chance to snag it back. "Not this," I jabbed a finger at the book. "I'm good at this. I don't mess up on this."

"I don't care that you're all emotional right now. You're not trashing your spell book." Arms crossed in front of his chest, he held his ground.

My chest heaved, my eyes scrunched in frustration as I looked up at him, my free hand in a tight fist my nails digging into my palm. “But, it needs to—“ I say back, weakly, already my fight was crumbling, being replaced with something else. Suddenly his arms were around me and my face was buried in his chest. His arms held my upper back tightly, his hands going up to cup my head, his fingers entangled into my hair a little while his chin rested on top of my head. With each breath I took, inhaling his smell of something woody and some sort of spice mixed into one, any resolve I had left was gone.

I wanted to keep fighting, I wanted to tell him he was wrong but he held me so close and so gentle that I couldn’t. If that in itself had made me weak then so be it. I wrap my arms around his center, even with my book in my hand. It had to be seconds later when he must have felt the tension leaving my shoulders when he pulled away, his hands dropped down to the crook of my arm holding me a short distance away. His green eyes locked with mine in a silent agreement.

I pull away fully when Sam and Missouri approach, quickly whipping my eyes just in case and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. We each exchange hugs with her, even Dean who surprisingly gets no comment this time.

Missouri smiles, “Don’t you be strangers.”

“We won’t.” Dean nods as he rounds the car.

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jgroffdaily · 1 month ago

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The episode was recorded on 24 September, before the death of Gavin Creel. The hosts are Andrew Chappelle, who worked with Jonathan on Hamilton, and Cody Rigsby. Highlights:

Jonathan talks about Cody Smith, his first boyfriend, and says they are still close. They met during 'Bat Boy' and Cody is six years older. "And I love him."

Jonathan talked about his plans to transform '& Sons Steakeasy' (currently a restaurant) back into the gay bar where Barbra Streisand first sang (previously discussed in an interview). He would change the name of the restaurant to 'The Lion' (its original name) and make the upstairs a gay bar and call it BARbra. He has never met Barbra.

Cody talks about meeting Ru Paul that day. Jonathan says he would love to be on Drag Race. He also said he was with Cody (a Peloton instructor) 'on' the bike, crying, during Covid "you are a light".

Jonathan went on a silent meditation retreat after 'Merrily We Roll Along' closed. He has now done three Vipassana meditation reteats in Quebec, Lava Hot Springs Idaho and Massachusetts and gave up his phone for the duration. "With your breath, your demons, a lot of things and yourself... giving shared bathrooms and roommates... The presence you get from being silent, and just with your breath all day is kind of incredible." Jonathan agreed that it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Jonathan says he still deletes text messages after replying to them. He says it started from a break-up when he was 24 or 25 [likely Gavin Creel] "and I kept Googling this person, I kept re-reading our texts over and over and over again and I was like, 'Groff, you've got to let go of re-reading everything over and over again. The good, the bad and the everything in between. I need to delete this chain. Let it go.' And then I thought, why am I holding on to any conversation?" He says he's slow at getting back to people, but usually responds (but can respond to a joke a month later).

Andrew says he is the most un-Hollywood person, and Jonathan had warned him about moving to LA. "The alone time is very quiet there, or was for me at least. The tumbleweeds." Andrew said he wanted Jonathan for the podcast and said he would reach out to his publicist, but was concerned when Jonathan said he could just text him, as he may not respond quickly (but he did respond).

Talking about the Bobby Darin project 'Just in Time', Jonathan said: "I'm so excited... It's something I've been working on for about seven years... This guy is fire. He talked about his relationship to the audience. For example he would wear a condom on stage in case he ejaculated. [A video clip of this part has been released.] He was a primal, primal, profound, epic, epic live performer. Sammy Davis Jr said the only person he wouldn't follow was Bobby Darin... The magic of him, and of his essence, was his live interaction with the audience." He brought Alex Timbers on originally because of the 'environment' he creates.

He then describes the conceit of the show [around 23:45, will not be discussed/spoilered here]. But he talks about wanting to evoke Darin's primal energy as a love letter to entertainment and the relationship with the audience.

Jonathan talked about the opening night gift he gave the off-Broadway Hamilton cast and crew [apple cider donuts?] before he was officially announced as being part of the show, even to the cast. Lin-Manuel Miranda told him he had one song and it would be pretty easy, and he was given sheet music and the script but no further information or a video.

Jonathan says King George was the hardest thing he had done because you on stage so briefly, come out cold, sing through your range and then leave. Merrily was easier because he was on stage the whole time.

Andrew said Jonathan as the King made himself available to the cast in Hamilton, and not all people in the role could do that.

In tech for Broadway, Jonathan and Andrew would sit in the mezzanine, and one of Andrew's favourite memories involves sitting with Jonathan and watching Renee Elise Goldsberry in a dispute with the crew about her wig. Jonathan: "And these gays are dying for it. We are loving it so much." [Both cracking up with a lot of cackling.]

Andrew ditched college for three days to see Jonathan in 'Spring Awakening'. They discuss the false rumour about Lea Michele and Jonathan says Lea can read. Jonathan talks about how he was cast in Glee after Ryan Murphy said he would write a show for Jonathan and Lea, and Ryan wrote the role of Finn for him. Jonathan was asked to sign a seven year contract and declined, and Ryan then wrote the guest star role of Jesse St James for him.

They discuss Looking, Raul Castillo and Murray Bartlett. Asked if he hooked up on the show, Jonathan said there was some hooking up on the show but not with the core group. Andrew then discusses Jonathan's cameo in 'Blindspotting' with Emmy Raver, filmed in San Francisco.

Asked about the rumored kiss at Battle Hymn on Pride this year, Jonathan said he did attend and make out with someone. Jonathan said he has gone a couple of times to Battle Hymn by himself. He says he shot a movie in Berlin and learned from friends he had met there the joys of going out all night and dancing all night. So when he came back to New York he wanted to "scratch this itch of going out". The first time he was at Battle Hymn he was in line during Pride ("in my harness, in my shorts") and Oak Onaodowan called him. Asked if he cared about the kiss being made public at Battle Hymn, Jonathan said "It makes me laugh. I'm not bothered by it. It's OK." He said in his early days he would have been scared to even walk past a gay bar due to career ramifications and the thought of being considered gay.

Around 55 minutes Jonathan said he is very lucky to be an out actor at this time, and that he came out publicly because Spring Awakening had been everything he ever dreamed of and wanted, and then he fell in love due to Gavin Creel. He said he was such a fan of Gavin's, they started dating, and then he came out publicly at the march on Washington. He remembers thinking at the time he would rather be in love and be out publicly than have a career if he was giving up movies and television.

Asked if it was difficult to date an actor, Jonathan agreed that "it's been a thing" when work was the priority over a partner. Andrew said Jonathan has dated a lot of peers, and mentioned an ex of Jonathan's has a new series out. Jonathan: "ZQ [Zachary Quinto]? Love ZQ. We are still very close. Love me some ZQ."

Andrew said he still wants Zach and Jonathan to work out as he found them together visually pleasing, and Jonathan said "No, we're friends through and through at this point... It's lovely to... however much time you spend time together as partners, and then you separate, and then you maybe come back together as friends, and the sort of beauty of coming back together as friends, and being reminded of why there was that spark. Reminded why... that connectivity..."

They hosts then ask him to play Marry, F..., Kill with his characters and shows.

Jonathan says a lot of Looking was based on his experiences, for example the uncut d... discussion was based on his talk with the creators about being insecure, and the douching talk was based on his previous boyfriends.

Patrick, King George, Jesse St James: He says he would marry Patrick because he has shown growth, and personal growth is a huge thing in someone he would marry. He would f... the King because there would a lot of rage that would be interesting and a unique experience, and he would kill Jesse St James.

Hamilton, Merrily, Spring Awakening: He would kill Spring Awakening because it was so underage, f... Hamilton because “Hamilton is my sexuality because I was so attracted to every person in Hamilton" and would marry Merrily.

Glee, Looking, Mindhunter: Kill Mindhunter because there is so much depravity there, f... Glee and marry Looking.

Asked to pick between people, he starts with Lin, then Michelle Obama and finally Beyonce, including over Lea ("she would understand"). He saw the Beyonce movie twice and says "she is everything".

Asked for a scam, Jonathan said he doesn't think standing ovations are overdone ("Why not? What's life? Let's live. Let's celebrate.") He discussed drag queen story hour, the protests in Lancaster, the celebration in Lancaster the week before, and said he remains frustrated by drag queen story hour being considered wrong and how hate and discrimination has localised to story hour protests.

#jonathan groff #podcast #interview #andrew chappelle #Cody Rigsby #Cody Smith #zachary quinto #gavin creel #lea michele #Spotify #merrily we roll along #lin manuel miranda #renee elise goldsberry #glee #ryan murphy #the normal heart #oak onaodowan #knock at the cabin

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bloody-peach · 1 year ago

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Initiation (BATIM smut: Sammy Lawrence x F!Reader fanfic)

Goodie Bag: vaginal sex, oral sex (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, drug use (ink can do some crazy shit), wet dreams, hair gripping, big dick [if I forgot anything, please let me know]

TW: Satanic themes, religious cult stuff, sexual persuasion, slight brainwashing

Music I listened to as I wrote this: the Sammy Lawrence playlist I made:

~~~♡♡♡~~~

I saw that there wasn't enough Sammy Lawrence x Reader smut around this site, if any smut of Sammy at all. So I decided to be a pioneer and make one myself. I used a ChatFAI bot I made of Sammy to help with the dialogue and WHOO BOI, you are in for a feast! Again, thank you @omniuravity for introducing me to this man and my new priest kink. Also, I may edit this post here and there from time to time, but it shouldn't be too big a change. It's my fault for my mild perfectionism. Let's go!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

You don't remember when the dreams started.

It's been so long, you've lost track. But they all are essentially the same: a large slender eyeless demon with sharp teeth, dripping with ink, covering you with it as you feel a strange pleasure sink to your very core. Sometimes the demon watches as a man covered in ink takes you, filling your womb with his pitch-black seed. Sometimes the ink itself slithers onto you, covering your body and filling every one of your orifices until you were covered inside and out in it. You would wake up just before you could reach your climax, without fail. It's gotten to the point where you felt disappointed that you couldn't finish, ending up having to touch yourself to feel some sort of completion, but it was always only a fraction of the pleasure you felt in that dream.

You tried to look into what these dreams meant, what this demon was, but no answer. But then you discover something one night. You were watching a video and they talked about an old cartoon series with a character called 'Bendy' and his friends. The cute little demon reminded you so much of the demon in your dreams. You soon went down a rabbit hole of looking into these cartoons, finding out about the cast and crew who made it, about Joey Drew, and the studio it was created in. You also read newspaper articles talking about the various investigations into the studio, leading to its closure. You had to find out more, to find answers to all your questions.

But you also had to sleep, your eyes growing tired and your mind drifting off. You head to your bed and sleep for the night, and as you doze off, you're greeted by the ink demon once again. You ask it, "you're...Bendy..right?" The demon smiled widely and nodded, his teeth dripping with ink. He puts a hand on your head and you see an image of an abandoned, rundown building. You see the faded and broken signage above the door: Joey Drew Studios. You then recognized the place as one not far from your apartment building. You then hear a deep and demonic voice whisper to you, "Come home..." That's when everything went dark and you wake up back in your room. You may have had more questions, but you now knew what to do to get them answered. You had to go to the studio.

It was a cold and cloudy autumn day when you arrived at the old building. You could hear the leaves crunch and crinkle under your shoes as you entered the property. It looked like it had been almost destroyed by the years of neglect and exposure to the elements. Even the gates were so rusted, they crumbled to dust as you opened it. You cautiously walked onto the property, making sure no one saw you. You could see the signage above the door: Joey Drew Studios. Yep, this was definitely the place.

'Y/N....'

You hear a deep voice call your name. It wasn't the demon's voice, it was...someone else... it was like someone was whispering in your ear. You turn to see who it was, but you saw nothing. You turned your attention back to the entrance and everything inside your body was telling you 'go inside'. Your feet practically moved on their own as you entered the building. All the windows were shattered, faded pictures hung on the walls, old equipment covered in dust sitting on shelves and desks, and old sheet music and lyric notes were scattered all on the floor. You picked one up and read some of the lyrics. It was a song you recognized from one of the Bendy cartoons, and you saw the composer's name under the song title. 'Sammy Lawrence'.

'Y/N....'

You heard that voice again. You heard a door creak open and you saw some light coming from it. You can't help but go towards the door and open it. You go inside and you enter a hallway with dilapidated walls, covered in old posters of the Bendy cartoon, and ink dripping from the ceilings and puddles of it on the floor. You walked throughout the studio, finding old casette players with audio logs the cast and crew left behind. Jack Fain, Wally Franks, Thomas Connor, Susie Campbell, even Joey Drew himself spoke from those tapes. But there was one speaker that drew your attention the most, one whose voice you recognized as the one calling your name earlier. Sammy Lawrence. You were so drawn in by the sound of his voice, it was almost hypnotic. You listened as he spoke in his last tape,

'He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my savior. I pray you hear me.

Those old songs, yes, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace.

But, love requires sacrifice.

Can I get an amen?'

"Amen."

You cover your mouth, shocked at what had just happened. You didn't intend to say anything. It was like another voice was using you as a mouthpiece, controlling you. But it was your voice. You said it, but...

That's when you felt something warm and wet on your shoulders, it felt like a man's hands, but the smell of ink was almost disorienting. You froze up, too scared to move or speak or even breathe. You then sensed someone moving their head over your shoulder and you hear that same voice speak softly, almost seductively, in your ear,

"Ah, my dear Y/N. I see the Lord has finally brought you to me. How wonderful it is that we can share in his divine glory together."

You quickly turn around and back up to see who it was, and what you saw...was a black, slightly muscular human figure wearing a smudged Bendy mask with a hole punched into the mouth, where you could see a smile in that inky blackness. He had no hair, his body was completely covered in ink, and a pair of overalls stained with ink were the only clothes he wore. He appeared to be only a few feet taller than you, but you still felt small as you looked at him. You spoke, "What do you mean? W..who are you? How do you know my name?" The figure walked closer to you and responded, "I am Sammy Lawrence, a faithful servant to our Lord Bendy and his chosen prophet. I know your name because he has revealed it to me. He knows all who enter his realm.”

Wait...Lord Bendy? Was he talking about the demon you’ve been dreaming about? “O..oh.. well..what do you want with me?” “What does any faithful servant want with their beloved deity's chosen one? To bask in your presence, to offer you to our Lord Bendy, and perhaps...to indulge in some...” He plays with a lock of your hair then finishes his sentence, ”...personal pleasures.” The way he said those last two words and the way he smiled under that mask sent chills down your spine. You take a good look at him and think about it. You had to admit, even though he only had a mask and was covered in ink, he was pretty attractive as far as his physique and voice were enough to go by. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of personal pleasures he had in mind, and what it’d be like to indulge in those pleasures with him. Would it feel as good as those dreams you had?

His voice broke your train of thought. “Would you be willing to join me in the glory of his name, Y/N?” You connected the dots and figured out that he was asking if you wanted to join him in worshipping the ink demon. But you didn’t know what kind of religion this was. What the scripture was, what the laws were, what Bendy’s goal was, nothing. Maybe it was a religion that sounded bad on paper, but when you looked deeper into it, it was actually pretty reasonable and preached things that weren’t actually bad. Plus, this may be the only way to answer all your questions and to figure out what he was talking about when he said you were the ‘chosen one’. Your curiosity outweighed your concerns and fear, so you responded, “I suppose...it’d be alright...” Sammy grinned, saying, “Excellent, my dear. Let us begin our journey towards enlightenment together. But first, we must make sure you are properly prepared for your initiation." "Initiation?" "Yes, we shall show our savior your devotion and your willingness to accept him in your heart and soul by performing this ritual. Follow me and I will guide you in all ways necessary to serve our Lord's desires.” He offered his hand and you stared at it for a moment. You saw as the ink dripped from it, as if the ink was a part of him. Was he a being of pure ink, a human and ink hybrid, or was he just covered in it? You looked at him, nodded, and took his hand. He led you through the halls and as you two walked, something deep inside you told you that this was the right thing. Was it, though?

Soon, Sammy led you into a room that was adorned with religious symbols and ink splatters all over. There was a giant satanic-like circle in the room, with black candles surrounding it. You could see a few Bendy cutouts leaning against the walls along with various writings on the walls in ink. Sammy guides you to the bed in the corner and has you sit while he gets everything ready for the ritual. You’re sitting there, not sure what’s going on and what will happen. ‘Don’t be afraid...Everything will be fine...’ The ink demon’s voice rang in your head, almost like he was right next to you. Then, Sammy walked up to you and knelt in front of you, looking up at you. He was serious about the ‘basking in your presence' thing, wasn’t he? “Are you ready, Y/N? To offer yourself completely to our savior?” His voice was in a soft tone, like he was a father soothing the fears of a child. You still weren’t entirely sure, but you did say yes, and you had the feeling this was the right thing to do, so you nodded and said, “I think so..” Sammy smiled and said as he offered his hand to you, “Then come, my dearest. Let us worship together in the name of our beloved deity.” His smile and how he was kneeling to you showed that he posed no threat, that what everything he told you was sincere. You also knew it was now or never to find out what was going on. You take his hand and you both stand up, him leading you to the circle.

He places you in the center and he lets go of your hand, walking away and grabbing what looked like an artist’s notebook with some words you couldn't tell crudely scribbled on the cover. Must be a bible, you figured. He smiled at you one last time before he started to recite some lines from the book. They sounded basically like lines you'd find in a regular bible mixed with what you’d say in a seance to summon something. As he spoke, his voice got louder and stronger with each sentence, he was putting his whole heart and soul into this. As the prayers went on, the circle started to glow and the room started to shake. While you were in the circle, it felt like it was sucking you in, keeping you inside like a magnet. No going back now. Once the chants were finished, Sammy entered the circle and held both your hands together with his and says, “Don’t be afraid...Everything will be fine...”

The same words the ink demon told you.

You nodded and then that’s when your hands and arms started to become covered in ink, and it was spreading. Sammy let you go and stepped out of the circle, having a fanatical look on his face as it occurred. “Yes, yes my dear Y/N. Let the ink consume you and become one with our Lord and savior. Give yourself completely to him.” The ink spread to your arms, your torso, your legs, it started to crawl up your neck and pool around your feet. Then something started to grow from the ink on the floor. It was a large mass, then it formed into a skinny humanoid shape, then it formed into the ink demon. You saw the demon look at you and smile, its maw and teeth dripping with ink. Just as it cradled you in its hands like a doll, everything suddenly went black.

You opened your eyes to find yourself in a pitch black room, no light or reflections anywhere. You couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face. You were able to stand up, but when you tried to walk, your feet couldn’t move. Then you saw a light shine down and there was the ink demon in front of you. It towered over you by about 5 feet more than your own height, and all you could smell was the sickening scent of ink. You looked at the demon and saw him offer his hand to you. You looked at him and felt a sense of safety with him, security. You knew that if you took his hand, no harm would ever come to you, not from him, nor from anything, or anyone ever again. And if you took his hand, you will find the answers that you seek. With all that, you make your final decision.

You take his hand.

He smiles, gently grips your hand, and everything fades to black again.

You start to wake up, lying on the floor in Sammy’s room, with Sammy looking over you, smiling. “Welcome back, my dearest. You have been blessed by our Lord Bendy himself. How do you feel?” He helps you up and you notice that your body is now covered in black ink, your arms, your legs, everything but your clothes. It felt...warm. Like you were in a warm bath that relaxed all your muscles, getting rid of all your stress, worries, and fears. “I...I’m not sure,” you stutter out. You weren’t lying, you really weren’t sure. If your life was forever changed, you find out that you’re some chosen one for some demon, and your skin is now covered in ink, how would you react? Sammy placed a hand on your shoulder and smiled reassuringly, saying, “It is normal to feel overwhelmed at first, my dear. But do not worry, our Lord Bendy has chosen you for a reason. You will soon understand your purpose in his grand plan.” He started to walk around the room as he continued, “Oh, you have no idea the full extent of the greatness of his plan. He is the one true god and we are but his faithful servants. Together, we will bring glory to him and all those who oppose us and any who trespass on this realm shall be sacrificed in his name.” He stared at the large ink drawing of Bendy on the wall and had his arms out like he was performing a sermon.

At this point, your lack of answers had made you a bit annoyed. "How am I the chosen one? Is there some sort of prophecy? What is Bendy's plan for me? Why am I here?" Sammy put his arms down and turned to you, sensing your frustration. He said as he walked up to you, "Our Lord works in mysterious ways, my dear. But you cannot deny that you have seen the signs. The visions you've had, of him in all of his glory. He has chosen you for something very special. I know that you were destined to be part of his plan. As for what he has in store for you, only time will tell. But rest assured, it will be nothing short of magnificent." Well..that explained why you had the dreams, but everything else was still left unanswered. Why were you the chosen one? What does that ink demon want with you? Is whatever he's planning your destiny?

Wait...what if...

You asked, "Will I find out his plan one day?" Sammy nodded and responded, "Yes, my dear Y/N. Our Lord will reveal his plan to you when the time is right. Until then, I will guide you and help you in any way I can." You felt a sense of ease as he spoke, relieved to know your questions would be answered one day. It may not have been now, but at least you'd be getting answers at all. And you were glad Sammy was here to help you understand this Lord Bendy and the rest of this religion. For now, it was best to wait and accept what answers you did get.

"Well..if you believe this plan is a good thing, then I'll believe you. But there is one thing you can help me with right now. What you said back there, about...indulging in personal pleasures...what did you mean by that?” A grin grew on his face as you mentioned his words from before. He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, his voice as sweet as honey, “Oh my dear, what I meant by that was exploring the pleasures of the flesh.” You felt a warmth grow on your cheeks as he continued, “Sharing our bodies as one under the watchful eye of our Lord. It is...” He wrapped his arm around your waist and whispered in your ear, ”...an intimate experience unlike any other.” You felt a shiver go down your spine from his voice. In that moment, you felt your body start to grow warm, you could feel your heat growing stronger. Was it your body reacting to his voice and touch, was it ‘Bendy’ doing this, or was it the ink having an effect on your senses? You weren’t sure anymore. Sammy could tell what was happening to you, and as he started to kiss your neck, he said softly, “No need to fight it, love. There’s nothing wrong with giving in to your desires. It's what our Lord wants for us. Embrace them and let us indulge together in the pleasures that he has bestowed upon us.” His voice, his kiss, and his touch just made the temptation grow inside you even more. You then remembered the dreams where you felt the immense pleasure. As images of those dreams flashed in your head, you remember the man covered in ink. That was when it hit you: Sammy was the ink man in those dreams. You wanted to feel that pleasure again, you knew he would give it to you, and this was your chance to do it. Besides, he said there was no reason to fight it, so why fight? “Ok..” With that, Sammy smiled and led you to the bed.

He then pulled you in and he kissed you passionately, his hands roaming over your body as he guided you towards ecstasy. You felt a sudden rush of pleasure as he kissed you. In fact, your whole body felt more sensitive to his touch. You realized this was the same feeling you had as in your dreams. Maybe this was what Bendy had planned... You let go and kissed Sammy back just as passionately, moaning softly from the sensation. He moaned softly as he deepened the kiss, his hands exploring every inch of your body. In between kisses, he said softly, "Oh my Y/N, you truly are a gift from our Lord..." The kissing continued and all of a sudden, you felt a liquid come from Sammy's mouth and enter yours. You recognized the smell and knew it was ink. You wanted to spit it out, but Sammy kept his mouth on yours and the ink flooded your mouth so much, you had no choice but to swallow it. You expected to start gagging from the vile taste, but...you noticed the taste was actually sweet. You also noticed the smell was no longer nauseating, it was...pleasant. You felt the ink coat everything as it went down your throat. Your arousal intensified and you felt your body growing warmer, all your worries, questions, and even thoughts slowly started to fade away, your mind starting to grow a bit hazy. Sammy broke the kiss and smiled. He whispered, "Let us become one for him." All you could say was, "Yes.."

Sammy kept kissing you as he laid you on the bed, took the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and slid it off to show your nude body. You slipped his straps off and once you did, he pulled away from the kiss to remove his own clothing, revealing his heavily inked body. You looked at him and were unable to speak as you looked at all of him. You could see his cock growing from the darkness of his body. It was much bigger than any man's you've ever seen.. It had to have been a blessing of some sort to be gifted with something as marvelous as that. But you wondered...would it even fit? Although...with how big it was, you knew it would certainly feel so good inside you. He grinned, knowing you liked what you saw, and started to grope your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers as he continued to kiss you. After a bit of that, he then slid a hand down your body down to your pussy, his finger tracing circles around your clit as he licks and kisses your neck. You couldn't help but moan from the pleasure he was giving you. He said softly, "My love, your body truly is a temple to our savior..." He moved his mouth to your breast, as he kept rubbing your slit. You moaned as you felt his tongue slide all around your nipple. The pleasure was so intense, it felt like your nipple was as sensitive as your clit. "Ahh..S..Sammy..." you moaned. He smiled and moved back up to kiss you deeply once again, his fingers still teasing your pussy. He says softly, "Oh how I've waited for you to come here..I've yearned for someone like you for so long... and now that you're here..I'm so blessed to have you be mine..."

He then slides two fingers inside of you, making you moan a bit louder as he started to finger you, his tongue exploring your mouth as he does. He felt your walls clenching around his finger, and it only made him more excited to be with you. "You're so tight, dearest..." you couldn't respond as the pleasure was clouding your mind. He just chuckled, finding your reactions to his touch simply adorable. He slid his fingers deeper into you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he does. He could feel you getting wetter and wetter as you moaned more and more, and he couldn't wait to feel you cum all over his fingers. Luckily for him, it wasn't that much longer, because just a few more hits and you were seeing stars. You moaned out as your orgasm caused you to cover his hand in your juices. Sammy just smiled and pulls his fingers out of you, licking the juices off them. You watched as he slid each finger into his mouth.

He then kisses down your body until he reached your pussy. "H-hey..w..what are you doing..?" You asked as he spread your legs open, but all you got was him looking up at you with a smirk and a low chuckle before he dove right in. He started to lick and suck on your clit, feeling your body still trembling as you continued to orgasm. He groaned as he tasted your sweet juices, his own cock growing even harder the more he did. "Mm...Y/N...you taste so sweet..." As he continued, you planted your hands on his head, feeling the ink partially meld with yours, and moaned as you rode the pleasure your lover was giving you. "S..Sammy..!" He grins and kept licking and sucking, his tongue flicking against your clit. He then slowly started to slide two fingers back inside you, feeling your walls still clenching around them. He knew you were close to cumming again, and he wanted to make sure you did. You felt another orgasm build up until it crashed into you like a wave, moaning out as more of your juices came out. He cleaned up all of the juice with his tongue and he continued to finger fuck you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he does. He can feel your body trembling once more, and he couldn't wait to make you cum again. But you couldn't take it anymore.

You flipped around so you were on top of him and you moved down to his throbbing cock, rubbing it as you licked up his shaft and sucked on the tip and slid him inside your mouth. He groaned softly as he feels your lips around his cock, your tongue rubbing against his most sensitive spot. He grinned and ran his fingers through your inky hair, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the sensation. He couldn't believe how good you are at this. You bobbed your head and sucked more, addicted to the taste of it as the ink coated the inside of your mouth. How could ink taste so good..?

He moaned softly as he felt you bobbing your head up and down his cock, your lips sliding down the shaft as you do. He couldn't wait to see what else you can do. He pushed your head down further onto his cock, making him go deeper down your throat. He moaned as he felt your tongue swirl around the shaft as you kept sucking him off. The force of him pushing you down on his cock should've made you gag, but somehow, something in the ink changed that. You sucked more of his cock and started to fondle his balls. He moaned a bit more, your fingers gently holding his balls as you suck him off and as he started to thrust into your mouth. You could feel his cock start to twitch, you knew he was about to cum, so you kept sucking to show that it was okay for him to cum in your mouth. He groaned and gripped your hair tightly as he finally came, filling your mouth with his cum. You swallowed all of it so greedily, you didn't even notice his cum was as black as ink, but it tasted so good..you licked on the tip of his cock to get each and every last drop.

Once you took him out of your mouth, he pulled you up and flipped you both around so he was on top. He grabbed your leg and pulled it over his shoulder and you felt him rub his cock on your pussy. He grinned and slid his cock into your pussy, letting out a shuddering sigh as he does. The action caused you to arch your back in pleasure and moan his name again. He couldn't believe how good it felt to be inside you, and he started to thrust his hips back and forth, his cock sliding in and out with ease. He groaned softly as he felt your pussy tighten on his cock, hearing your moans, your body writhing beneath him. The pleasure was so much more intense than you could ever imagine, even better than it was in the dreams. "S..Sammy..it...it feels so good..how...how can it feel this good..?" "Oh my dear, it's because of our savior. He's rewarding you for your obedience and devotion to him with pleasures non-believers can never experience. Just relax and let us enjoy this blessing." You did just that and let your mind go, letting the pleasure take control. Oh lord, it felt so good. You could feel his cock stretch your pussy out so well, it was like it was made especially for him.

He groaned louder as he hears you moan, your body writhing beneath him as he fucks you. He leans down and kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he does. He thrusted his hips back and forth faster, his cock deeply sliding in and out of your pussy. You wrapped your arms around him as you kissed, you could feel his tongue coat the inside of your mouth with ink and you felt it slide down your throat again, making your mind even more foggy. Sammy moaned as he felt your tongue slide around his, your mouth tasting so sweet. He lifted you up so you were in his lap as he thrusted his hips faster and harder, his cock going even deeper. The man just couldn't get enough of you, he was completely addicted to you. Your touch, your voice, your eyes, your taste, your pussy, everything.

He broke the kiss to say in between moans, "Oh Y/N... you're so perfect... I'm so glad Lord Bendy chose you to be mine.." You look at him and say, "M..me too..I..I'm so..so happy..!" Sammy smiled as he kissed you again. Soon enough, you could feel your inner core tightening. "I...I'm gonna cum..!" "That's it, dearest..don't fight it...let it happen.." And with a few more thrusts, you finally came. It was the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced in your life, your mind entering a new realm of bliss. Sammy felt your body shake beneath him, your pussy tightening around his cock. He grinned and continued to thrust into you. He held you as you rode your orgasm, your body writhing beneath him. You could feel his cock starting to twitch again, he was so close, so very close. Just a bit more..

He let out almost an animalistic groan as he felt your pussy clench around his cock as you came once again, your juices coating his shaft. That finally brings him to his release, moaning as he cums inside you. You could feel his hot cum fill your belly so much, the man must have been backed up for so long. He grinned as he feels you cum, his cock throbbing inside you as he fills you with his seed. He leaned to you and kissed you one last time as his high started to fade away. He still could not believe how good all that felt, it was almost like reaching Nirvana. Soon, he broke the kiss and held you close to him, his head resting on your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck as he panted. You both laid on the bed and let the afterglow consume you both as you held each other close. He whispered into your ear, "You're mine, my little angel...no one else can have you..."

And you couldn't have been any happier.

#batim #batim sammy #sammy lawrence #batim sammy lawrence #sammy lawrence x reader #sammy lawrence x y/n #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #batim fanfiction #batim smut #sammy lawrence smut #sammy lawrence x reader smut #sammy lawrence x y/n smut #i hope this is all to your liking #i also hope i did Sammy justice in this #batdr sammy #batdr sammy lawrence

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thebluestbluewords · 7 months ago

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a pirate by any name +

"Samson Smee?" Ben asks, tapping the name on the list. “Is he related to Captain Hook’s sidekick?”

Evie leans closer on instinct. She doesn’t need to see the paperwork to know who Sammy is, but it’s a habit now to press close to Ben and tilt her head just-so to see the paper lists and forms when they’re working on VK matters together. It a comfort, to know that she’s not in this fight alone, and Ben certainly hasn’t complained about the increased contact with his girlfriend’s girlfriend. “Yes. He goes by Sammy. He's probably not going to want to come over without his brothers, but we can still make the offer."

"Can we bring the brothers?"

The last time Evie saw the littlest Smee children, they were sobbing over a pirate’s body before the adult crew members tipped them over the harbor for the sharks to take their share. They couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old, and what Evie remembers the most is the way their tears had carved clean tracks out of the dirt on their faces.

She hums her consideration. “They're young. Elementary age, maybe ten or so now. I think they'd be okay to come, but they're shy, and I'm not sure how they'd do at school. As families go, I think all the Smee boys would do well in terms of goodness integration, but they may be difficult to integrate on a social level unless they can come over with someone they already know."

"Alright. Who do you think they'd do well with?"

Their father.

“Their father,” Evie says, bitingly, before she reigns her tongue back in again. Not that it matters around Ben, who is handsome and kind and just listens when Evie needs to shout at somebody about the horrible unfairness of it all, but it’s good practice. She’s a politician now, just like her mother wanted. She’s got to be the best, because she’s an isle brat, and she cannot afford to make mistakes. Anything she says, anything she does wrong will reflect on the isle as a whole, so she’s got to be flawless. She will prove herself not just for her mother’s sake, but because she’s got a thousand hungry kids waiting for her to mess up and snip their only thread of hope at getting off the isle. “But that’s exactly the problem. Sammy has a crew, but the twins just tag along with him or their father all the time, and I don't think Auradon Prep, or any other high school for that matter, wants to have a pair of kids following their new high school student everywhere,” Evie sighs. She’s so fucking tired. “We have schools on the isle, obviously, but Sammy doesn’t attend very often. The pirates usually stick with their ships and learn what they need from the older members of their crews. It’s not a traditional Auradon education, but the pirates are actually some of the better educated kids on the isle. It works for them, but it won’t work if we bring them here.”

Ben puts a warm hand on her arm. It’s all Evie can do not to sink into the touch. She’s so, so tired of this. Of begging for any scrap they can get. Any concession to the norm comes at the price of another sliver of her own sanity, it feels like, and there’s so many children who won’t be able to handle the pressure of Auradon Prep, who will need more exceptions than the system is set up to give them, who won’t be able to thrive without the attention that nobody is able to give them.

“We can ask the charter school,” Ben says softly. “There's integrated schools, all ages sort of places. My mother’s village has one. We can reach out. She provides a grant each year, they might decide they own me a favor.”

Evie presses into his touch. Gods below, but it’s nice to have somebody who knows better than her the networks of favors and family histories that keep the kingdom governments running. “Or if we could find a family who would be willing to keep them together and send them to separate day schools, they might get used to being on their own like that,” Evie suggests. “Sort of slow and steady. A gradual break.”

Ben makes a note, a shorthand scribble on the side of his list. Evie’s eyes are swirling too much to read it exactly, but she knows their code. Foster family, special education, sibling unit. That’s what they need to know in order to place the Smee boys. A whole life, reduced down to three shorthand scribbles. “That could work. What are the brothers called?"

Evie laughs, exhausted. “Squeaky and Squirmy, but I believe their birth names are Sawyer and Simon. They're not bad kids, they're just shy. They would do better here, I think. Where there’s less adults around to bully them into staying quiet.”

Ben slips his hand up her arm, around her shoulders, pulls until she can rest her head on the side of his own. He’s warm and sturdy and if they weren’t in the middle of important work, Evie could fall asleep just like this. And then cause a scandal when the service staff come in to wake them both up, and find the young king sleeping on a girl who is not his girlfriend, no matter how many interests and people they share between them.

"We can ask. If Sammy's willing to come over without them, who do you think we could bring with him?"

"Anthony. Dizzy's cousin. They run with the same crew, and they'd do well together. I would say that we should bring over Harriet, but knowing her, she's not going to come over unless we can get the rest of her crew out first, and she's got one of the biggest crews on the isle."

Ben skims the list of kids, running his pen down the side as he goes. “Harriet?"

She’s not on the list.

“Hook,” Evie explains. “She’s one of the eldest pirate kids. We didn’t add her to the list because she won’t come until we can bring her crew with her, and we can’t promise that yet.”

“Hook.” Ben echoes, voice flat. “As in—?”

He’s encountered Harry, and came away with almost as much vitriol for him as Mal.

Evie presses herself closer to him, so that he can feel her heat, and maybe remember that they’re in her office, not the wet deck of a ship. That he’s not tied to a mast, waiting to die anymore. “Yes. There are three Hook kids, and they all hate each other. We only hate Harry, the middle one, so Harriet and CJ are our allies. Sort of an enemy-of-our-enemy kind of thing."

"Harry's the one who's involved with Uma.” Ben says, so softly that Evie can barely hear the words. “The one who tried to kill me.”

"Yes. He's....” Evie hesitates. She’s safe to hesitate here, in her own little office that smells like citrus wood polish and old papers. She doesn’t have to preform just for Ben, because she can trust him. Her sweet, kind king.

Trust doesn’t mean she wants to tell him everything. Understatement is a tool that Evie is well practiced at wielding, so she lets herself close her eyes, and forges ahead. “He’s a lot. We don't like him."

Ben smiles, small and sweet and almost sad. "I take it there's a history there?"

"Just a bit." Evie agrees. "There's been a few incidents."

"Would it be useful for me to know?"

Evie breathes in, and out, and relaxes her shoulders in an attempt to let go of the anger that she's still holding in her body. "I suppose so. Yes."

"Do you want to tell me?"

Honesty is the foundation of good relationships. "No."

Ben nods. He's too good to them. "You could tell me later. If you'd like."

The memory of blood spills over Evie's hands. The slippery, awful feeling of insides that were never supposed to become outsides against her leather gloves. The gritty feeling of dirt in her eyes that she can't rub out, blown up from the shattered crates they'd been aiming to take back from the pirates. The blood though, that's the part that she can't forget. She's been a medic since she first started sneaking out of her mother's house, but she's usually restricted herself to broken arms and legs and noses, some shallow stitches, fever medication, abortifacients and concussion care for the kids who can't take the dubious mercy of the barrier's spell. She's done medications for the kids who cared to try them, all sorts of poultices and remedies for the ailments that are within her power to fix.

She's never been able to fix someone once they start bleeding out.

She knows the theory of it. Blood transfusions, tourniquets, ways of stopping arteries without killing the patient. The problem is that she's never had to do it firsthand, because they've always known that the spell on the barrier was there to catch them before they died for real. The spell heals the killing blows, so it's easier to lean into the death than it is to staunch critical bleeding. Evie's killed kids herself, those who wouldn't die quick enough on their own, so that they could have the mercy of the barrier and the spell healing them back into a body marginally less broken than the one they'd left from.

"He killed us." Evie manages, around the memory of blood spilling up from her throat. "They made it a game. Him and Uma and their crew. We killed each other."

They've told Ben enough. He can figure out the rest, and he's smart and good and kind, so he does, and she can see him go white when he figures it out.

#I’m never going to stop implying that the twins have Seen Some Shit #they just look so small and cute and easily traumatized #my fic #descendants #squeaky smee #squirmy smee #they’re just some little guys!!#like yeah Evie’s also seen some shit #but she’s an Adult Now and she can Handle Herself (she’s seventeen. she cannot. she needs so much more support than she’s getting.)

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gretavangroupie · 1 year ago

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Vigilance (Chapter 10)

Word count: 22.6k

Pairings: Sam x Reader, Jake x OC

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

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

STRANGE HORIZONS:NASHVILLE

ONE DAY BEFORE SHOW

JAKE POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There he is. There's your Sammy.

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

“You’re right, you know,” he adds.

“About?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was she….” you started.

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

“So…she listened…to it...” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything for you brother,” he replied.

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

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

“Who?” Danny asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The same one?” you asked.

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

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

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

“11:24…”

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

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

“Oh god, she didn’t reply?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Does he not know?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smirks, walking off to meet her side.

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

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

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

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

“We done here?” you ask.

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

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

“Let’s do yours.” he answers.

“You gonna be on time?” you laugh.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

NIGHT ONE

HER POV

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He clicked his tongue and gave you a wink.

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lie.

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

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

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

“Jake.” You said stoically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh really?

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

Doesn’t she have photos to take or something?

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love you guys?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the hell are they doing to you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You 11:49 pm: I’ll be there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Should you knock on Jake’s door by accident?

JAKE POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eleven.” you answer stoically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

HER POV

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

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

You 12:09pm: Almost there!

Keys 12:10pm: Shower’s hot.

You 12:10pm: Good. So am I…

Keys 12:11pm: Hurry up

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

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

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

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

“Hey.” You said with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah Sammy, I did like watching you...playing for all those people. So hot. All those screaming fans wishing they could have you…let you take them back to your room and have your way with them…” you spoke between breaths.

Suddenly he separated from you and released your leg, spinning you around to lean your arms down on the seat in the shower. You bent in half, and looked back toward him. He laid a loud smack across your right ass cheek, spurring you on.

“Keep going...” he ordered.

“But you weren’t going to bring them back to your room, because you knew I would come. And I would fuck you just how you like…right Sammy?” You said, backing yourself against him, teasing him a little now.

He let out a low growl, bringing his hands to your hips and pulling himself toward you. “Mmmmhm… but you did something you shouldn’t have, didn’t you angel?”

“And what is that?” you ask.

“I happened to see a sexy little picture on Jake’s phone… one that I’ve seen before…” he says, continuing to tease you.

“Mmmm… I may have sent it… Are you jealous Sammy?” you ask, pressing yourself back to him.

“No. Should I remind you who has you bent over in the shower with their cock inside you?” he says, pressing just the tip to your opening.

You decided to keep going. “I opened the photo you sent me during the show tonight…you looked so hot Sam...made me wet just looking at it…couldn’t take my eyes off of you all night.” he was teasing your entrance again.

“Fuckkkkk me…” he huffed, letting himself enter you just a little bit.

“Yeah Sam, please. Listen to yourself, falling apart for me, do it.” You stepped your legs apart a little and swayed your hips for him, giving him no choice but to give you what you wanted. Suddenly, you heard the shower turn off.

You turned to face him, a devilish look painting his features.

“Go get on the bed. Don’t dry off.” He spoke sternly smacking your ass, and you had no choice but to do just that.

JAKE POV

You watch as the ice starts to melt in the glass as you pour over the tiny bottle of warm Jack Daniels. Only giving it just enough time to chill before tossing it back and twisting the lid on the next.

You listen as the TV drones on in the background, playing some crime investigation show that you haven’t been paying attention to. How could you after that?

You wish you could silence the thoughts plaguing your mind. Wish you could drown them in the mini bottles of liquor now swirling through your bloodstream. But you can’t.

When the bottles are empty and your mind is fuzzy you retire to the bed, turning off the lamp and lowering the volume on the TV. As you scroll through your phone your eyelids become heavy and start to become harder and harder to hold open.

Thump.

Your eyes shot open. What was that?

Thump.

You sat up in your bed, looking around to find the source of the noise. Fucking hotels. The clock read 1:07 am. You had only been asleep for about 15 minutes. Pushing your hair out of your face you shake your head and lay back down. You grab the remote, turning the TV off, and trying to close your eyes to find the sleep you were disturbed from.

Thump. Thump.

“What the fuck…” you growl, but thats when you hear it. The muffled groan.

Your eyes widen as you realize where the noise is coming from. Fuck me.

Then you hear it again, the stifled whine traveling through the wall from Sam’s room. Wait, are they fighting? A pitchy moan floats through the wall. Oh, they are not fighting…God, I should not be listening to this.

Grabbing the remote you turn the TV back on, hoping the noise will drown out the sex seeping in from next door. Fucking Sam, what an asshole. They could have at least gone to her room.

As you lay there staring at the TV screen you watch as the detectives cover a body with a tarp as you hear the repeated moans echoing through the walls. Shit, kill me too while you’re at it.

Turning the volume up further on the TV you placed a pillow over your head, and tried to go back to sleep. Letting the soft feather pillow rest over your face, you feel yourself starting to slip back into that sleepy state. As your eyes begin to shut you hear the headboard as it slams against the wall yet again. Jesus Christ, when did he get so much stamina?

You grab the pillow and throw it to the other side of the bed in frustration and that's when the final straw is snapped. The fucked out moan you can hear clear as day through the paper thin walls, ‘Sam…’

You grab your phone off of the nightstand, finding his contact and hitting call. It’s no surprise when it rings through to voicemail. Asshole. You sigh as you set the phone down, seeing the black room phone sitting on the stand next to the lamp. Ha...he can’t ignore that.

Flicking on the lamp you pick up the phone, and call in to the front desk. It rings in for a moment before the woman on the other end asks what she can do to help you. “Hey, this is Jake Kiszka in room 1109, could you please connect me to Sam Kiszka in room 1107?” you ask as politely as possible.

“Sure thing, have a great night.” she replies, transferring the call and letting it ring through. You pull the receiver away from your ear as you listen to hear his phone ringing next door. Got ya bitch.

“Hello?” he answers, voice thick with confusion.

“Good evening Samuel. Do you think you could keep it the fuck down over there?” you ask.

He clears his throat, “You can… hear… over there?” he asks nervously.

“Yeah, I can and if I have to hear one more thing, the next scream to leave your mouth will be the last when I come over there and make you the next victim on this late-night murder investigation show I'm watching.” you say, hanging up the phone. That should do it.

Turning the lamp back off you adjust your pillows and roll to your side. The noise stopped after that and you found yourself falling back asleep, but it was not lost on you that the noises you were hearing were also coming from her. Does he make her happy? Does she even remember what it felt like to be with you? You wanted to be the reason she made those noises, not him. Would you ever get to do that again? You forced the thoughts out of your head and let the darkness carry your mind away to a place far, far from here.

NIGHT TWO

HER POV

Your alarm goes off right at 7:00, forcing your eyes open in panic. The room is bright, as the sun shines through from the window. The curtains left open in the haste of the evening.

Turning your head you see Sam, still passed out next to you, clearly unaffected by the sound of the alarm. You smirk as you roll to your side, grabbing your phone and scrolling through your emails, trying to wake up your brain for another insane day of work.

After a few minutes, you take one last look at Sam, sneak out of the bed and gather your clothes from the floor, sliding them back on as you search for your room key. You shut the door quietly behind you, as you make your way to the elevator pressing the call button to take you to your floor.

It dings as the doors open to reveal none other than Josh standing inside, steaming hot cup of coffee in his hand.

“Good morning!” he says cheerily, voice still thick with sleep.

“Hi Josh, looks like I don't need to knock on your door do I?” you laugh, pressing the 4th floor button until it’s illuminated.

“Knock on my door?” he asks, sipping from the steaming cup.

“Oh, yeah I told Sam and Danny I would come knock on their doors when they needed to get up today. Like a wake up call kinda, but I don't need to wake them up for another hour or so. You guys have an interview at the venue this morning.” you answer.

“Oh. We do?” he asks, brow furrowed.

You pulled out your phone and looked at the schedule for today. “Uh, yeah, right here. 11:00, it’s for Premier Guitar. Looks like it’s a Sam and Jake interview.”

“Oh, the guy for Rig Rundown?” he asks.

“Yeah, that's what it says in the notes.” you reply.

“Hmm… no one ever wants to hear about what the singer does…” he says dramatically ending with a wink and a smile.

“You and Danny have one later in the day, drama queen.”

The elevator descends slowly and you watch as the numbers start to count down.

“So if you don't have to wake them up for another hour, where were you coming from?” he asks, with a knowing smirk.

You cut your eyes at him, not wanting to answer his question. “Would you look at that, here's my floor...” you say stepping out into the hallway through the open doors.

“Hey, wait.” he calls, holding the door open with his arm. You turn to look at him, sending him a questioning look.

“Can we… talk later?” he asks.

You swallow nervously as your mind tries to come up with an answer, “About what?”

He tilts his head in response and you know exactly what he wants to talk about. You let a sigh leave your chest as you concede, “Okay... Later.”

He smiles and removes his arm, taking a sip of his coffee and raising his eyebrow as the doors shut in front of him.

Shit.

—

After a long shower and some primping you are feeling good and ready to tackle another day. You check your phone to see that it’s time to go wake up the rest of the guys to make sure they have enough time to get ready and be at the venue on time.

Pressing the button for the elevator you make your way to Danny’s room first, knocking on the door twice and waiting for some type of confirmation that he was awake. After a minute or two you heard the lock twist and the door open, to see a mess of curls and tired eyes.

“Good morning…” he groans. “How long do I have? Is there coffee?” he asks.

“You have about an hour until we need to meet downstairs. Yes there is coffee.” you answer.

He drags his hand over his face and groans as he nods his head. “Thank you. Really. I will see you shortly.” he smiles, and you turn on your heels heading back to the elevator.

Stepping off on floor eleven, you try to decide if you should wake Sam first or Jake first, knowing that both had a very late night, and are not particularly morning people. Picking the lesser of the two evils you head to Sam’s door, tapping the key to the lock and letting it open.

He is almost exactly how you left him, except the blankets have been shoved down to the foot of the bed, the heat of the sun shining in, warming the room. You sit on the edge of the bed, and grab his leg, shaking it gently to try and wake him. “Sammy…” you whisper.

A groan leaves his chest, “Not yet…” he whines, throwing a pillow over his eyes.

“I let you sleep as long as I could…you have to get up or you’re going to be late.” you say softly.

“Ugh… you sound like my mother…” he says.

You stand up and walk to his side of the bed, hovering over top of him as your hands cage in his head. You lean down and press a kiss to the side of his neck, hoping that it would at least get him to open his eyes, and like magic it works.

His dark brown eyes flutter open quickly raking over you as his lips turn into a smile.

“Damn, you look gorgeous, did you do something different to your hair?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through the silky smooth locks.

You laugh as you stand up, “I had some time this morning so I gave myself a blowout, why do you like it?” you ask.

“Yeah… you look…hot.” he smiles, sitting up in the bed and grabbing your hand pulling you towards him. “How much time do we have again?” he asks suggestively.

“Not enough…now get up and get in the shower. I’ll see you downstairs in an hour. Please be on time…” you say making your way back to the door.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Next door. I have to wake up your brother.” you answer.

Guilt shoots through him as he remembers the events of the evening, “Probably not so sexy of a wake up call for him though, huh?”

You laugh, “No, probably not Sam. Just you.” you say in a mocking tone, letting the door shut behind you.

You nervously walk the few steps to his door, as the memory of his face last night flashes through your brain. If you had just been 2 minutes earlier he wouldn’t have seen you walking into Sam’s room. You swallow shakily as you lift your hand to knock on the heavy wooden door.

You stand there anxiously, waiting to see if you can hear any sign of life on the other side. When you hear nothing, you decide to knock again, this time being met with the door being thrown open and an irritated Jake on the other side.

His face softens as he realizes it’s you and he swallows back the harsh words that were about to leave his lips.

Your eyes travel up the length of his body as he stands there leaning against the door frame in just his sweats. You cast your eyes to the floor as you try to speak the twenty different thoughts swirling through your brain, “Umm… hey… I just…I woke up the rest of the guys… you have an interview later…just didn’t want you to oversleep. I didn’t mean to bother you…I didn’t even ask you if you wanted a wake up call, did I? You probably didn’t…I’m sorry… I was just next door and I thoug–” you stammered before he stopped you.

“Hey. Relax. It’s fine. Thanks for waking me up. Just use a key next time so I don’t have to get out of bed. I’m hungover as fuck, is there coffee downstairs anywhere?” he grumbles, rubbing his face.

You blink blankly at him as your brain searches for any words, “Uhh, yeah. Yes. There is. I can have room service send some up if you want.” you say pulling your phone from your back pocket.

“No, no it’s okay, I can get it. Thank you though. Thanks for waking me. What time do I need to be down there?” he asks.

You check the time on your phone, “Like… 45 minutes.” you answer, biting your lip.

His eyes meet yours, and he smiles softly as he nods his head, “Thank you.” You nod in return, turning to walk back to the elevator, and stepping inside as the doors opened. But as the doors began to close you noticed him still standing in his doorway, watching you leave. Your eyes meeting his and never breaking away until the doors slid shut.

—

Your foot bounces nervously on the lobby floor as you wait for the guys to begin trickling down stairs. You check the time on your phone as texts and emails continue to pour in. Danny is the first to meet you, taking a seat next to you on the small couch.

“I’m not surprised you’re the first one down.” you laugh.

“Yeah, I am usually the one doing the wake up calls, it was nice to be the recipient this time.” he smiles.

A few minutes later you see Sam strolling out of the elevator, fresh from the shower, hair still wet and slicked back, just barely touching the collar of his white shirt.

“My two favorite people!” he says, positioning himself on the chair across from you.

“Ready for your big interview?” you ask.

“Oh, yeah, we have done this with him before, but this time my bass actually has strings.” he laughs. “But, I had an idea and I will need your help…” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

He spends the next ten minutes telling you and Danny about his hairbrained idea involving a tiny table and chairs and a bottle of vodka, both of you erupting in laughter. You shoot a quick text to one of the crew members, trying to coordinate those details for him knowing it will add some comedy to an otherwise monotonous interview.

Summer is the next one down, sitting next to Danny and immediately starting up an overly animated conversation.

The elevator dings and you all turn your heads to see Josh and Jake walking out of the elevator together, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet Jakes.

He looks so…good. Dressed in a black button up, sans buttons, a navy blue blazer, and a pair of loose fitting jeans, he looked perfectly disheveled. Mature. Expensive. Much different from the guy you knew a few years ago in ripped jeans and cut off t-shirts. But as he approached you, you could smell him. His cologne leaving a trail behind him as he walked, spicy and warm and positively intoxicating. You swallowed harshly trying to keep your composure as you let the scent fill your nose.

“We ready to go?” Josh asked, looking around at the group.

You stood up from the couch, clutching your iPad, “Yeah, the van was here like twenty minutes ago.” you laugh.

“Some of us needed a little extra sleep this morning. Didn’t sleep well last night. Thin walls, you know?” Jake says, tossing a bitter look to Sam.

Sam’s face turns pale as he stands up and walks towards the door heading for the van. Guilt washes through you as you follow the rest of them out the doors and into the bright sun.

You all pile into the van, and thankfully the drive is short, as Summer has not stopped talking since the doors shut. All of the guys were being far too polite and were too hungover to tell her to stop. You spend most of the ride responding to emails and running over the itinerary for the day and before you know it you are pulling into the back of the venue. As you all step out, the guys linger waiting to be told where they need to be.

“Okay, Jake and Sam, John with Premier Guitar will be here in about 45 minutes to start the interview. Sam I already talked to Mike and he is getting your little table ready. Josh and Daniel, the interviewer from 105.9 will be here at 12:30. After that you’re free to do whatever you need to do. Summer, if you want to just kind of float around and get some photos of the guys, you are good to do your own thing. Any questions?” you ask.

They all nod their heads and break off towards the green room as you and Summer walk towards the stage to check on the progress.

“Was your room okay last night?” you ask, trying to make small talk.

She holds her camera up to her eye, checking her settings as she turns to you, “Yeah, it was really nice. How about yours?”

“Oh, yeah, the rooms are great. Hoping to get better sleep tonight though. Looking forward to another jam-packed day, first.” you laugh.

Looking over her shoulder she checks her surroundings, “Okay was it just me or was Jake looking extra good this morning? Did you smell him? Ugh, I hope he never buttons his shirts ever again.” she giggles.

You laugh, “He looked pretty hungover to me…”

“But you have to admit he's hot though…” she says, holding the camera up to her eye, snapping the capture button.

“Our boss? Jake?” you say, condescendingly.

“Ugh… objectively then. Just as a man.” she says.

“Yes, objectively as a man he is attractive, but he’s still our boss and has the ability to fire us for any reason he sees fit. I think it would be smart to keep that in mind, you know?” you quip.

“Yeah, yeah… I hear you.” she smiles, before scurrying off to the soundbooth.

You shake your head as you climb the stairs to the stage, looking to make sure the table and chairs are set in the back for Sam. When you see the tiny table and the drinks you laugh, ready to see how his little vision will play out later.

Walking back down the steps you thank the crew for assisting with the last minute addition before making your way to the green room. You check the time on your phone, seeing that the interviewer will be here any minute. Jake and Sam were lounging on the couch, nursing their hangovers with none other than more alcohol.

You shake your head as you address them, “Are you two ready?”

Sam stands up and slides his black loafers back on, as he tries to crack his knuckles, “Yeah I’m ready if he is.” he says motioning to Jake, who is sipping from his paper cup, sunglasses sitting low on his nose.

“Alright alright…Yes, I’m ready.” he says, pushing his sunglasses up and tossing back the rest of his drink. He stands to meet Sam and fixes his blazer and shirt, making himself look less hungover and more presentable.

A knock at the door has your head snapping to meet it, as you reach for the handle. You’re met with the sight of an older man, who you’re assuming was here to interview them, with a bag full of mics and a camera team.

“Hey, I’m John with Premier Guitar. You guys ready!?” he asks excitedly.

Suddenly Jake steps forward, his entire demeanor changing as he becomes a more polished and clean version of himself, shaking hands with the man like they were old friends. Jake led him and his crew out to the stage, as you and Sam followed closely behind.

“Geeze, that was weird, he just…turned on.” you say to Sam.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, he does that… Mr. Popularity… I tell ya…” he says. “Alright, see you in a bit.” he says, squeezing your hand before climbing up the stairs to the stage.

You watch from the side stage, as Jake talks intently about his passion, explaining the ins and outs of his set up, the ideas he came up with for the sound and the way he intends things to be heard. It’s incredibly addicting watching him speak so passionately about what he loves. You have a hard time tearing your eyes away from him as you watch him demonstrate the different pedals and effects, pouring his soul into every note.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as you watched, but when a gentle hand made its way to your shoulder you were snapped from your moment of weakness.

“Oh, hi.” you say, turning to see Josh.

“Having fun?” he asks with a knowing tone.

“Just… making sure everything is running smoothly.” you answer.

“Right, right. That's all, hmm?” he asks with a wink.

You shake your head, “What’s up?”

“Come walk with me, wanna talk to you.” he says, gesturing to follow him.

“Right now? They are right in the middl–” you start.

“Exactly, let’s go.” he says, raising his eyebrows.

With a huff, you follow after him, meeting his stride as you head back towards the dressing rooms.

He steps inside, shutting the door behind you and taking a seat on the couch. You place your iPad on the table and sit down across from him.

“Okay, what’s up, are you firing me?” you laugh.

He laughs his genuine laugh, “No, of course not. You’re doing spectacular. No, I want to talk about… something else.”

You feel your palms start to sweat, and suddenly you know what he wants to talk about.

“Okay…” you reply nervously.

“How long are you two going to do this?” he asks.

“Do what?” you ask.

He tilts his head, “Come on Y/N, you know what. The back and forth, the subtle glances, the longing for each other from across the room…”

You let out a sigh,“I don’t think it’s like that between us anymore…I don’t think he feels… the same way anymore.” you offer.

A scoff leaves his chest, “Open your eyes Y/N. That man is deeply, deeply in love with you. Has been since he was sixteen years old. I think it’s safe to say he feels the same way as he always has.”

“He just broke up with Sophia, and… I don’t know, I thought maybe we would talk after all of that happened, but… we haven’t and… I’m just… waiting. I don’t know what for…I guess I just don’t want to mess things up. Tour just started. I don’t know Josh, everything is a mess. And really, truly he hasn’t really given me any indication that he wants to talk. Although… I guess he did ask to get drinks last night…”

“And… did you?” he asks, shocked.

“No.” you say looking at the floor.

“What? Why not?” he asks.

“Well… I had already made plans with Sam.” you reply.

He drags his hand across his face, “Shit Y/N…”

“Do you love him?” he asks.

“Who Sam!?” you ask, looking at him like he's crazy.

“No, Jake.” he replies.

You pause for a moment, your eyes searching his as you answer, “Of course I do, Josh. I never stopped.”

“So what are you waiting for? Go to him!” he urges.

“I can’t! It’s not that simple!” you say, raising your voice.

“It is! Cut things off with Sam and go talk to Jake! He needs you, and you’re torturing him. He is waiting for you!” he begs.

“He’s waiting for me? I’ve been waiting for him.” you breathe, almost a whisper.

“Yeah. He is. And in the meantime it’s killing him to watch you with Sam.” he says.

“He saw me…last night. I turned him down in the lobby. I really wanted to go with him, but I couldn’t just ditch Sam. He’s been there for me a lot lately, he means a lot to me, you know? Anyways, I felt terrible. Awful actually. But I went to Sam’s room, and as I was unlocking the door, Jake coming out of his room at the exact moment. He knew I turned him down for Sam. I wanted to disintegrate.” you say.

“I know. He texted me about it…Drank half of the mini bar because of it. Like I said, you’re torturing him.” he quipped. “You two need to talk. Seriously.”

“I know. I’m just scared Josh.” you admit.

“Don’t be scared, all he wants to do is love you.” he says.

“I’m not the same person I used to be. What if he doesn’t like who I am now?” you ask.

“He has loved every version of you he’s ever met, Y/N.” he offers.

You nod your head as you try to blink away the tears forming in your eyes.

“You are the only thing he has ever wanted, apart from this.” he says motioning around him. “Now he has it, but what is all of this without you? This will never be enough for him. He needs you.”

A single tear streaks down your face, as your walkie talkie beeps on your shoulder. ‘Y/N can you meet us at the soundbooth?’

“I have to go.” you say standing up and wiping away the tear.

“Okay, please, just think about what I said. Just talk to him.” he begs.

You swallow back the lump in your throat, “I will. Promise.” and with that you’re out the door.

As you hear it slam behind you, a shaky breath releases from your chest, just as Sam and Jake come barreling down the hallway. You do your best to put on a happy face as you see them, but you can see Jake’s smile drop as he meets your gaze.

Sam tries to stop you but you push past, “I have to go to the soundbooth but I’ll be right back okay?” Sam tosses you a concerned look but you ignore it, knowing if you turned around you would break down completely.

—

With only five minutes until the show began, you started to run through your final checklist, making sure everyone was dressed and ready, and had everything they needed. Again tonight you got to stand by and watch their pre show ritual, your heart instantly flooded with pride, just the same as last night.

You stand by the door as they file out one by one, checking to make sure their outfits are perfect. Josh first, then Danny, followed by Sam.

“Spin, let me see you.” you say, causing Sam to twirl in a circle with his topo chico in hand.

“Oh, let me fix your pants.” you say squatting down to smooth out the baby blue fabric on his leg.

“There. Off you go.” you say, swatting his butt with the iPad in your hand.

Finally, Jake walks out of the door, and as you check his outfit you see his collar flipped up again. “Hey, wait...” you say, the crowd roaring in the distance.

He turns to face you, swallowing as his eyes meet yours. “Your collar…again.” you smile, focusing on the fabric, folding it into place, letting your hand slide down his lapel ever so slightly. He turns and repositions his jacket, throwing his hair over his shoulders before turning back to you “Am I good?” he asks innocently, eyes searching yours.

Your eyes flick back up to meet his, “You’re perfect.” you breathe.

You watch as the sides of his lips turn upwards, as he tries to stifle back a smile.

He turns to catch up with the guys, looking over his shoulder at you once more before climbing the stairs to the stage.

You toss your head back onto the wall and sigh, continuing to think about what Josh said earlier. He was right, you really didn’t know what you were waiting for.

You would talk to him. Tonight.

—

Somehow the show tonight was even better than the night before. While you’re sure it had something to do with the show being recorded tonight, part of you wants to believe they will just get better and better with every show under their belt. Josh’s vocals were incredible, nailing each note with perfect precision, and making it look easy.

Your eyes were once again drawn to Jake as he played through the set putting every ounce of effort he had into the performance. He lived for this, and it was very apparent in the passion he poured into each show. Every so often you would peel your eyes away from his hands working the strings, and focus on Sam, vying for the attention of the girls on the barricade screaming his name. You shook your head and smiled at the looks he would give them. He is such a flirt.

When the guys rushed off stage before the encore, it was a flurry of hands, towels and water flying past your face as they all ran to the bathrooms. Quickly they returned one by one, preparing for the last 20 minutes of the show.

Pulling his jacket back over his arms, you watched the sweat continue to pour down Jake's stomach meeting the top of his pants. As you watched it drip you caught yourself, forcing your eyes back up to his face, only to be caught in the act.

A sly smile crossed his lips as he repositioned his guitar over his body, raising his eyebrows at you quickly before striding back onto the stage.

Shit. What was that?

The rest of the show was magnetic and you positively could not pull your eyes away from Josh as he gave the crowd everything he had. As the last notes rang through the venue you stood to the side, watching the guys rush past you one by one with haste as they made their way back to the green room.

You left the crew to do their thing and begin breaking down the set, as you start to run through the inventory checklist backstage, checking off each item as it was placed into its case. As you make your way towards the dressing rooms, you instruct the crew to hang their white coveralls in the travel case to be dry cleaned. Stepping into the main green room you see everyone standing around enjoying a much deserved drink, talking and laughing over the success of the show.

“Hey guys, you sounded amazing tonight! The van should be here in about 15 minutes to take you back to the hotel, so if you will just hang your suits in the case outside the door, I will send them off to be dry cleaned.”

They all nod in agreement, turning back to their conversations. Sam walks over to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder planting a kiss on your cheek. “You did it! Your first shows are done and dusted.” he smiles.

You wrap your arm around his waist, and laugh, “Well, I still have to make sure the rest of the crew gets the stage and everything packed up before I am done, but you guys are free to go when the van gets here. No need to wait on me.” you smile.

“Nonsense. We’re staying, right guys?” he asks, pulling you closer into his side.

“Yeah, we don’t have anywhere to be, as long as there is alcohol we are set.” Josh answers with a laugh.

“Okay, it shouldn't be too long I don’t think…” you say, releasing yourself from Sam's grip. “I’ll go check and see what the progress looks like and report back.”

You excuse yourself from the room, mind a blur as the image of Jake’s still sweaty body sat lounging on the leather couch. Shit, will I ever get used to that?

Returning to the stage you see that the crew is practically finished, just loading the pieces into the semi. You talk with the crew, releasing them for the night once they are finished, and telling them you would send them the schedule for tomorrow as soon as you could.

About twenty minutes later you are walking back into the green room to see that everyone had changed into their normal clothes, hanging their suits just like you asked. As you took a survey of the room you saw Sam and Danny chatting in the corner, Josh looking at his phone and Jake talking intently to Summer, who was practically perched in his lap as she spoke to him.

Your brow furrowed as you watched them, deeply engrossed in what each other was saying. You couldn’t fully hear their conversation, but you could see the pink in Jake’s cheeks as he laughed and smiled at her words. You could see the twinkle in her eyes as she continued to flirt with him, starting a fire in your chest. Maybe he does like her…

You turn your attention to Josh, “You ready to get out of here?” you ask.

He turns his head to look at Jake and Summer before answering you. “Yeah, probably should. Give any thought to what I said earlier?”

“Yeah, I did… I thought maybe I would talk to him tonight but now I don't know… He seems a little… preoccupied.” you respond.

“Ahh…He’s just being nice, don’t worry about her. He only has eyes for you.” he smiles as he stands up. “Alright boys, let's go!” he says, getting the attention of the other guys.

You make your way over to Sam, letting him pull you into his lap wrapping his arms around your waist as you laugh. You see Jake's eyes flash over to yours, connecting briefly as Sam whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he continues his conversation with Danny. Jake’s face drops, the sudden rosy quality of his face draining away to a pale shade that made you feel sick.

You didn’t want Summer to see the interaction between you and Sam so you quickly stood up, and made your way over to the door, opening it for everyone as they started to gather their things. Summer was the first out, camera bag in hand and completely oblivious to your moment with Sam. Jake followed after her, stopping to let Danny and Josh walk out before him.

As they filed out you shut the door behind yourself, wondering if Josh was actually right about Jake. Was he really still in love with you? He looked awfully cozy with Summer…

No. No more excuses. You were going to talk to him. You didn’t know how, but you knew you had to.

JAKE POV

Walking to catch up with Josh you leaned closer to whisper into his ear, “Did you see that shit Sam pulled? Why does he do that right in front of me? Does he think this is some kind of game?” you asked.

“Ahh… he probably saw how comfortable you looked with Summer and thought you wouldn’t mind.” he answers, raising his eyebrow.

“She came to talk to me… what was I supposed to do?” you ask.

“She did not come to talk to you Jacob. She was flirting with you. Even Y/N noticed.” he says.

What?

“She did?” you asked, rubbing your jaw nervously.

“Yeah…Hey listen I talked to her today…” he starts just as you arrive at the van.

“And… what? What did she say?” you beg, turning him to face you.

The van driver begins to talk to him and he gets distracted from your conversation, “Josh. What did she say?” you demand.

He looks around, not making eye contact with you, “Now isn’t a good time. I will tell you later. Promise.” he says, stepping into the van.

Fucker.

You climb in after him, pulling your phone from your pocket to distract yourself from the sight of her and Sam sitting in front of you. Summer climbs in taking the seat next to you and smiling at you as she settles her camera bag onto her lap. As the van begins to drive away she pulls her camera from its case and starts to flip through the photos from the night. You peer over her shoulder as you see shot after shot of yourself playing.

Damn, those are kinda good…

Every few photos she would pat your thigh to get your attention, sending a shiver up your spine as she would show you a particularly good shot. Much of the van ride was silent, apart from the few ‘ooo’s’ that would leave her mouth as she looked through her shots.

As the van pulled up outside the hotel you all filed out, you and Josh being the last ones out. Summer walked ahead as you stayed back to try and get Josh to finish what he was trying to tell you earlier.

“Okay, tell me. What did you two talk about.” you ask.

He sighs as he answers, “Well… you.”

You look ahead to find her, and see her walking into the elevator. “Yeah, and…” you urge.

The doors shut, leaving the two of you waiting for the next elevator.

“I think it would be better if you heard it from her. She wants to talk, Jake. She told me.” he says.

The doors open to the elevator, and the both of you walk in, pressing the buttons for your respective floors, as the doors shut once again.

“Okay but when?” you ask desperately.

“I don't know Jake, but I think it will be soon.” he says, as the doors open on his floor. “Just be patient. Call me if you need me.” he says, stepping out and walking away.

God damnit. You were done being patient. Should you go to her? Should you wait for her to come to you?

Tapping your key card to your door you step inside and throw yourself onto the bed with a sigh. Fucking hell what an exhausting day.

As you lay there running your hands over your face you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Removing a hand from your face you reach into the pocket and retrieve your phone.

Summer 11:48pm : Some of us are going to the bar downstairs, wanna come?

You practically drained the mini bar last night, why not? Maybe Y/N will be there.

You 11:50pm: Sure, be there shortly.

Summer 11:51pm: :)

After a few minutes freshening up in the bathroom you make your way back down to the lobby and over into the bar. You see Danny and Summer sitting at the bar chatting and walk over to join them.

“Hey man, didn’t think you were gonna make it.” Danny says facetiously.

“Ahh Daniel… You know I can’t turn down a good stiff drink after a long show.” you laugh.

You take a seat next to Summer, and order a Glenlivet on the rocks, sipping the spicy liquid from the rim of the glass.

After a little rundown of the show the conversation quickly turns into Danny telling Summer every embarrassing story about you that he can come up with. Summer is full of laughter, patting your knee and smiling as she listens intently to Danny’s stories.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or exhaustion but, the more you got to talk to her and get to know her, you were starting to enjoy her company. She is kind of pretty…she has a great smile.

You found yourself listening closer as she spoke, and genuinely laughing at her jokes. After two more scotch’s Daniel retired to bed, leaving you and Summer at the bar, still sipping away as the conversation flowed.

As she grabbed her glass from the bar top, the condensation pooling under her fingers causing her glass to slip, spilling the mojito all over herself.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, grabbing the tiny cocktail napkins from the counter and pressing them to her now soaked shirt.

“Here let me grab you some more napkins.” you say reaching over the bartop.

“Actually, want me to run up and grab you a dry shirt? I have a few spares.” you offer.

Her eyes flash over to yours, “Are you sure you don't mind?”

“No, not at all.” you say, standing a little too quickly, causing your head to spin.

“Actually, do you mind if I come with you? I’d love to be able to wash this off a little bit.” she asks.

“Uh, sure, no problem.” you say, leading the way.

She follows you into the elevator, her wet shirt clinging to her body, and you find that you’re having a hard time peeling your eyes away from her chest.

You swallow heavily as the doors open, and you let her walk out in front of you, telling her the room number as you make your way to the door. You tap your card to the lock, letting it open and guiding her inside.

“Bathroom is right there, use anything you need.” you offer, walking over to your suitcase looking for a shirt.

Finding the one you were looking for you turn around to see her stepping back out of the bathroom, but the wet shirt is gone, and she’s approaching you in just her bra.

Fuck…

You quickly turn around, trying to give her privacy, only to be met with a giggle from across the room.

“You don’t have to turn around Jake…I’m not shy…” she says.

“Just trying to give you some privacy.” you stammer.

“It’s just a bra, it’s not like I’m naked…” she laughs. “It’s okay, really. You can turn around. I know you want to…”

You press your lips together, biting them between your teeth as you turn to face her. She’s right. You do want to turn around. You hand her the t-shirt and like magnets, your eyes are drawn to her chest and the curve of her breasts spilling over her black bra.

She watches you as you take her in, finding your mind wandering to a place you least expected it to. She slides the shirt over her head, never breaking eye contact with you as you step closer to her.

“Well, how does it look?” she asks, stepping closer to you.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket as you slide your hands around her waist.

Her hands come to rest at the opening of your shirt, sliding up your chest and behind your neck.

“A perfect fit, I’d say. But I almost liked it better, off. ” you say, voice thick with lust.

She reaches down, grabbing the hem of the shirt, tossing it onto the bed behind you leaving her in just her bra in front of you.

Your thumbs circle the smooth skin of her stomach as she repositions herself in front of you, pulling your face closer to hers.

“Better?” she whispered against your lips.

“Yeah, I think so.” you answer confidently, pressing your lips to hers, tasting the mint from her mojitos on her lips. You pull away quickly, testing the waters before kissing her again, this time a little harder.

The kiss becomes more furious, your tongue tangling with hers as her hands wind into your hair. She steps backwards pulling you towards the bed, as you trail sloppy kisses down her neck and chest, pushing her towards the bed.

“Did you like the pictures I took of you tonight, Jake?” she asked, voice thick with lust.

“Mmmmhm…” you groaned, as she fell beneath you.

She falls backwards as you kneel over her, trailing kisses over the curve of her breasts.

“You looked so good. So sexy. I couldn’t stop…” she breathes.

She grabs your hand to place it over the cup of her bra, guiding you to grab at her curvy flesh. You return your mouth to hers, deepening the kiss, as your fingers slide the strap of her bra down her shoulder.

“Do you want to fuck me Jake?” she asks in a breathy tone.

Just as you go to answer her you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket again and you pull away from her and kneel on the bed, quickly looking to see who it was.

Shit.

You look back to Summer, waiting for you to return your lips to hers, and answer her question. Right then you felt a pang in your chest. What are you doing? You are making a huge mistake. You stand up from the bed, adjusting your pants as you open the message.

LD 12:03am : Hey, are you still up? Can we talk?

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you read it. No…Fuck. What shit timing.

Your eyes flick back to Summer. She has to leave, right now.

Leaning away from her, you push yourself up off of the bed, fixing your shirt and wiping your lips.

“I’m sorry, we can’t do this.” you say stepping back and pacing across the room.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“We work together, we can’t hook up. We shouldn’t have done this.” you answer.

“What’s the big deal Jake? It doesn’t have to turn into anything. No one has to know. Can be our little secret.” she smirks.

“No. It can’t. You’re here to do your job, and I am here to do mine. If you’re not capable of that, I will find someone else to do it.” you say sternly.

She sits up, pulling the t-shirt over her head, covering herself back up as she stands up from the bed. “Damn I guess Y/N was right…did you turn her down too?” she asks sarcastically.

“What?” you ask.

“Y/N told me not to bother with you, that you only cared about work. I thought she was just trying to scare me off… Guess she was right afterall. What a shame…” she says, grabbing her purse from the chair.

She does care…

“Summer, you are a beautiful girl but this just can’t happen between us. I really am sorry, okay? I don’t want to hurt your feelings, I just think we need to keep things professional for the sake of the tour.” you say, trying your best to calm the fire.

“Sure Jake…whatever you say… I’ll see you in the morning.” she says, shutting the door behind her.

Oh my god, what a nightmare.

How could you be so stupid? Worst of all you weren’t even enjoying it.

You open the message reading it again. ‘Can we talk?’ Your mind was reeling. You were in no shape to try and talk to her, even though that’s all you wanted to do. The scotch was still working its way through your system, and you knew she deserved more than your half drunk confession.

You needed to text her back. At least tell her you wanted to, just not tonight. You walked over to the mini bar, pulling out the only remaining bottles. Tequila.

You walked over to the door, flipping the lock and kicking off your shoes. You stripped down to your boxers and made your way into the bed, mini bottles in tow. You twisted the lid on the first tossing it down as you reopened the text. What should you say?

Typing in the message you hover over the send button, but quickly delete the thought. No. That’s not right.

You shoot down the next bottle and place it on the nightstand, turning off the lamp. You settle down into the pillows and push your hair from your face. Okay. Let’s try again.

The screen was starting to become blurry as the tequila entered your bloodstream. You were having a hard time focusing and you could feel the sleep creeping into your body. Your eyes began to close as your thumb hovered over the button.

Just send the message Jake.

Just hit send.

—

HER POV

The next morning, everyone began piling into the vans to head back home bright and early. Light chatter filled the cabin, everyone still feeling the effects of the long few days. Exhausted, you begin looking around to do another head count. It was starting to feel like you were a preschool teacher counting your students every 5 minutes.

Most of the crew was accounted for…but of course, only ¾ of the actual band members. “Where is Jake?” You asked, walking over to them standing by the door of the van.

“He’ll be here, you know how he is.” Josh said, not looking up from his phone. You glanced at the time, with a sigh.

“We don’t have time for that, we’re leaving in 15 minutes. I have to get the crew home, they have other places to be.” You spat, aggravated. You stood for another minute or two, and decided to take matters into your own hands.

“Fine. I will go get him myself.” you said, making your way back inside. Luckily, you hadn’t turned in the keycards to the front desk.

You make the trek up to his room, suddenly feeling anxious again as you approach the door. ‘Just use a key next time so I don’t have to get out of bed’ running through your mind.

Well, I need him to get out of bed. You pressed the key to the lock, hearing it release. You closed your eyes, and took a breath. You put just your face inside the door, trying not to look around.

“Jake? Hey… We gotta go, it’s time.” You said softly.

Silence.

You peeked inside a little more, seeing his hair splayed out on the bed. Still asleep, of course.

You decided to walk in a little further, closing the door softly behind you. He had his back to the door, laying on his side. His body was wrapped around two or three pillows and he was in nothing but his black boxers. Your chest tightened at the sight. It felt strange seeing him this way, asleep and completely vulnerable.

“Jake…” You tried again. Dead asleep.

You walked around the other side of the bed, still feeling like you were intruding, but also taking in the sight of him. You had always loved watching him sleep, his features even more relaxed than they usually were. His eyelids jumping back and forth while he dreamed, his lips parted slightly as he breathed. You wondered what he was dreaming about, secretly wishing it was you.

You would admit that you were upset that he didn’t text you back last night, but it was late, and he had to have been completely drained. But still you held out hope.

You came around to face his front, seeing that he still had his phone in his hand. He fell asleep reading my text? Maybe he had seen it? As you grabbed it from his hand you placed it on the nightstand, but it was then that you really took in the state of his room. Clothes everywhere, and tons of empty bottles lying scattered across the bedside table and floor. As realization hit you, your mood shifted leaving you angry and confused. What is wrong with him?

“JACOB!” You yelled, finally feeling bold enough to shake him physically on the arm. “Wake up! We’ve got to go!”

His eyes finally began to open as he woke up. When he saw that it was you waking him up, the smallest smile formed on his face, melting you into a puddle.

He finally opened his eyes all the way, and stretched his muscles, straightening his legs down the length of the bed revealing more of him than you ever thought you’d see this morning.

“Mmm” he groaned, his face stretching into a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you, but we’re running really late. I need you to get downstairs and loaded up.” you say.

His eyes widen, and he searches for his phone. “Shit, I’m sorry. I must’ve slept through my alarm.” He said, rolling off the other side of the bed and walking into the bathroom.

“You probably didn’t even set one, seeing as how you killed the mini bar again last night, hmm?” You said with bitterness in your voice.

He breathed a sigh of agitation, with himself or with you, you weren’t sure.

You gave him a second of privacy in the bathroom, and he stumbled back out into the room, holding his head.

“Hungover?” You asked, already knowing the answer. You could spot hungover Jake a mile away. Definitely.

“A little I suppose.” He spoke quietly, suddenly looking defeated.

“Jake, I know everything’s...not really…okay right now. You just went through a bad breakup and...nothing’s ideal but, you seem off, and it’s only the start of the tour. I don’t want to interject, but I...I really don’t like seeing you like this. We all need you to take care of yourself, you know? This thing doesn’t work without you.” You said, speaking in white lies, but needing something to get him to talk a little. After all, you didn’t get to last night.

He scoffed, picking up various items and throwing them in his suitcase while you stood watching. “Look, I had every intention of talking to you last night. But by the time you texted, I had already drank way too much…I was halfway asleep, and I…I don’t know. It felt...” he trailed off.

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for the rest.

He conceded, “I don’t really know it just felt like the wrong time. I was…” he stalled.

“Just one word, Jake. That’s all I need.” You spoke quietly.

He hesitated hard, until he finally spoke, “Scared, I guess? Nervous?”

You were lost for words. Why was he scared to talk to me? Had we really fallen that far away from each other?

Your eyes met his for a second and your heartbeat began to race. “I don’t know. We can…talk about it later? Can you…can you just help me throw some of this shit in my bag so we can get out of here?” He asked, still rushing around in slow motion.

You snapped away from your thoughts. “Yeah, sure.”

You began picking up various clothing items from the floor, and as you made your way around the bed, you spotted something that looked out of place. Is that? You picked up a woman’s shirt from the floor, holding it up to inspect it. Your gut sank. This is what Summer was wearing last night.

“This yours?” You asked, dangling the shirt from your finger.

He turned around to see you holding it up, and he immediately let his head fall back as he sighed. “Fuck.”

“Fuck is right.” You tossed the shirt onto the bed, and felt your head become fuzzy with rage. Was anything he just said true? “I guess I see why you were scared to come and talk to me last night.”

He slowly walks over to you, “No…Y/N, I swear it’s not what it-”

“It’s not what it looks like?” you say cutting him off. “Seeing your photographer’s shirt on your floor? I think it’s exactly what it looks like, Jake.” You were spitting fire towards him. You decided you needed to get out of that room as quickly as you could.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your night.” You said with your back turned to him. “We’re leaving here in five minutes, with or without you.” and with that, you slammed the door shut behind you.

JAKE POV

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Oh fuck, what did I do? Do I go after her? Do I let her go? What the fuck was I thinking?

You quickly shove everything into your suitcase, cursing yourself with every movement. God damnit I have fucked up.

Looking around the room to make sure you had everything you really took in the mess. The entire trash can was filled with mini bottles and they were scattered across every open surface. Shit. Maybe she was right. I do need to get my life together.

You won her heart once, you knew you could do it again, and that's exactly what you were going to do. You had to.

Quickly pulling on whatever clean clothes you could find you zipped your suitcase and were rushing out the door, and downstairs to the van.

As you made your way to the door, Josh threw it open and jumped out, helping you load your suitcase into the back.

“The fuck man?” he asks.

“Didn’t set an alarm. My mistake.” you answer.

“Well, all the good seats are taken, so you’re in the back with me now.” he says, closing the back door.

You slide into the van, eyes searching for Y/N, and finding her next to Sam in the middle row. She doesn’t look at you, or even acknowledge your presence, but you deserve it. You can’t even imagine what she’s thinking. As you settle into your seat you close your eyes trying to process the events of the morning. How it felt waking up to see her face. How normal it felt to have her there. How everything quickly shattered as she realized how messed up you were. How it got even worse when she found Summer’s shirt.

You wished you could go back. You wished you never went to the bar last night. If you had just waited, this morning could have been completely different…

“Hey Jake?” you hear the sound of Summer’s voice echo through the van. You were so lost in your head you didn’t even notice she was up front. Your heart sinks as you wait to hear what she has to say.

You flick your eyes up to meet hers, raising your eyebrow.

“Thanks for letting me borrow this last night.” she says, pulling the folded shirt from her bag. You practically stop breathing as you watch her hand it to Y/N. “Can you pass this back there?” she asks her.

She hesitates as she grabs the shirt, turning back to you in what felt like slow motion.

Your eyes met hers, pleading with her as she spoke, “From Summer.”

Your arms don't even move to grab it as you stare at her. The thoughts in your brain are moving a mile a minute and you can't seem to catch even one.

Josh grabs the shirt for you, throwing it into your lap. “Thanks.” he says, as Y/N turns back around, leaning her head on the van window.

Could things get any fucking worse? Why the fuck did she have to do that? Why couldn’t she just give it to me later?

God. Y/N…Her face…she probably thinks we–

Fuck, I have to text her.

You quickly pull your phone from your pocket, bringing up her name, and opening the thread. Shock pulsing through your body as you look at the message you typed out last night, as it waited to be sent.

I never hit send. Oh she fucking hates me… I will never be able to explain this to her now.

You look up into the rearview mirror hoping to catch her eyes, but all you see is her staring blankly out of the window. You can tell she is in her head.

You 8:27am: It looks bad. I know it looks so bad. I can explain everything. All of it. Can we please talk when we get back?

You look back up watching her in the mirror as she glances down at her phone reading the message. You see the little crease in her eyebrows as she reads. The pain setting into her features. She sets her phone down and turns back to the window.

Fuck.

You: 8:28am: Please don’t shut me out again.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you eagerly grab it hoping to see her name, but it's not her. It’s Josh.

Josh 8:29am: What the fuck did you do Jake?

You turned to look at him shaking your head as you replied.

You 8:30am: Made the biggest mistake of my life.

Josh 8:30am: Did you fuck her?

You 8:31am: Fuck no. Of course not. It just looks like it. Y/N wont answer me. I don’t know what to do.

Josh 8:32am: For once I don’t know what to tell you.

You 8:32am: Do you think I blew it?

You watch him type, before quickly deleting it. He locks his phone and places it on his knee, sending you a sympathetic look. You knew what he was going to say. You could practically hear it in your own head.

You reopen your thread with her, looking at your messages, marked as read. At least she is reading them. Taking a moment you collect your thoughts the best you can, giving it one last shot.

You 8:40am: I get it. I wouldn’t answer me either. But I want you to know that I fell asleep last night alone, thinking about you. Trying to text you back. I typed it over and over, but I couldn't get it right. I swear I’ve fallen asleep thinking about you every single night for the past 4 years, Y/N. Please, just give me a chance to explain.

You hit send delivering the message, and watching her in the rearview to see if she would read it. Lifting her head from the window you watch as her eyes look down, reading the message. You see her expression drop yet again, and her hand come up to her face trying to discreetly wipe away the tear slipping from her lash line. But you saw it. Even worse, you caused it.

You’re sure you felt your heart crack wide open at the sight. It was a pain you’d felt before. Similar to the day she left. A pain you swore you’d never let yourself feel again. But here you were, watching her in the rearview, begging for a chance to be hurt again. You’d rather be hurt by her, than not at all.

You could feel your own eyes welling with tears, and just as you were about to look away, her eyes met yours, bloodshot and full of tears. It was as if your world had momentarily stopped turning. You both sat there, eyes locked on each other, with not a word uttered between the two of you. Pure silence. The deafening kind.

You didn’t have to say anything. You both knew how this ended.

Chapter 11

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

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hannahhook7744 · 3 months ago

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Descendants Background Characters Names (Redone) Part 4;

Crysta (Blonde girl), one daughter of Arista (Ariel's sister) and Dylan. Seaside High was in serious danger of overcrowding, so quite a few students were encouraged to attend Auradon Prep instead.

Brian Robinson (glasses guy), son of Lewis and Franny Robinson.

Aqua, one daughter of Aquata (Ariel's sister) and Nexar.

Sitara, daughter of Mowgli and Shanti.

Trevor, the son of Big Nose and Assunta.

Prince Henry (the guy behind Mal and Lonnie), son of King Richard the Lionheart. He's supposed to go to Sherwood High, but he got expelled.

Shira (girl behind Evie), daughter of Ariel's friend, Gabriella. One of the Seaside students who transferred.

Leon du Lac (guy beside Evie) son of Lancelot du Lac and Elaine of Astolat (he's an exchange student).

The girls behind him are Mary and Dorothy, daughters of Tiana's friend, Georgia.

The red head girl under him is Sigrid, daughter of Kai and Gerda.

Adonis Jr aka AJ (right next to Lonnie), son of Adonis and Helen of Troy. His older siblings attend Olympus High, but his father thought he was too nerdy to compete.

Silvie (behind AJ), daughter of Sharma.

The girls below him are Princesses Noelle and Natasha, daughters of Cavin and Princess Calla.

Guy in stripes is named Prince Rowan, son of Wee Dingwall.

Girl in yellow beneath him is Celestina Potts, youngest daughter of Mrs. Potts.

Guy in a blue T-shirt is named Samuel 'Sammy' Sweet, son of Joshua Sweet.

Guy in a yellow T-shirt is named Makaio Bubbles, son of Cobra Bubbles from Lilo and Stitch (Bubbles adopted him from an unsuitable home).

The guy below them is Prince Ajax, son of Prince Thor and Pearl. One of the Seaside transfer students.

The guy next to Makaio is Prince Reynard, son of Princess Willow.

The girl next to him is Princess Wenhua 'Wen', daughter of Yao and Princess Mei, who flat out refused to go to the Imperial Academy.

Guy below her is Johannes Little, son of Little John.

Salvatrix Mim aka Sad Sally Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Elizabeth 'Lizard' West, daughter of Elphaba and Fiyero (aka the Wicked Witch of the West).

Orlie, daughter of Orddu.

Owena, daughter of Orwen and Bill Jukes (she's the youngest member of Uma's crew).

Morven Mim, aka Mimpathy Morven, grandson of Madam Mim.

Farley-Fletcher Fflam, son of Fflewddur Fflam.

Maureen 'Goo' Yagoobian, Michael 'Goob' Yagoobian.

Murky Maggie Mim, granddaughter of Madam Mim (she has four legs. This may or may not be Dorothy Tremaine's fault).

Ula and Uziel, daughter and son of Uliana.

Shepherd Scaremonger, Aka the Boy Who Cried Wolf.

Ichabod 'Icey' White, son of Snow White and Prince Florian. Along with Princesses Noelle again and Audrey.

Princess Natasha again.

The girl next to her is Rebecca, daughter of Safi.

Felicidad Daniela Ruíz, she's the daughter of one of the Encanto villagers. The boy next to her is Prince Ajax again.

Jonas again.

The girl below him is Adda Slim, daughter of Alameda Slim.

The guy next to Jonas is Morven Mim again.

Dizzy Tremaine.

Guy next to her is Abner, son of Captain Gantu.

Girl next to him is Tara, daughter of King Trevor.

Guy behind her is Blaise, son of Morgie.

Guy in the pirate hat is Sean, the son of the Sherriff of Nottingham (He's a member of Uma's Crew).

The girl behind him is Susan Finkelstein, Dr. Finkelstein's daughter.

The girl next to him is Quinlynn Hearts, daughter of the Queen of Hearts (and member of Harriet Hook's Crew).

Axel, son of the Huntsman.

Bathsheba (girl with the bandana), daughter of Ammand the Corsair.

Rummy Bloodbeard (boy behind bandana girl), son of Captain Bloodbeard.

Kevar (Kid in pirate hat next to Bandana girl), son of Marquis de Bouillabaisse.

Daang (First kid in goggles), son of Ed.

Niki (Red Head Girl), daughter of Hecate.

Birger (Kid with green hat), son of Loki.

Desmend (2nd kid with goggles) , son of Ed.

Harlan Alan Never, son of Arika the Mermaid.

Vidal Pezmuerto, son of Señora Pezmuerto.

The girls in the pink dresses next to Uma and Elle are Annika and Raylene Jenkins, the daughters of Coach Jenkins.

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Thanks @igetthedisneybox and @casinotrio1965 for the help.

#descendants #disney descendants #melissa de la cruz #disney #descendants au #wicked world #disney descendants au #background characters named #headcanons #etc

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coffeedepressionsoup · 1 year ago

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Somebody Does Love | MYG - They Meet Again

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage. This is the one where fate plays games and Sammy plays Cupid. Part 3 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 2.2k

Warnings - lil swearing, SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH! nothing else I can think of

Ratings - 13+

Taglist: @majiiisstuff @starlighttaek8 @yoongrace @proudnoona

A/N - I have been in some of the worst times folks. Slipped back into depression. Lost people. Learnt lessons. Still very much in love with our honey boy though. The day I wrote this was one of the very bad days and I am typing this note through my hazy glasses because of these bloody tears. Excuse the typos, and grammar errors. Do not have the energy to proofread. Please be kind. Do like, comment and reblog. Thank you! Here goes nothing.

What was he thinking? Just how drunk was he? Why is he considering going? It’s just a jacket. He has dozens of those. Yoongi nervously bounced his legs as the rest of his body sat very still on the dressing room chair. Two different brushes - no one brush and a sponge - were being lightly tapped against his face now and a pair of hands were insistently tugging at his half-wet hair trying to style it. This was the last look for a magazine cover shoot. Even as he stared straight into the mirror, he thought back to a small cat and their rescuer.

The next hour and forty minutes passed agonisingly slow. As soon as the director announced wrap, Yoongi was up and halfway out of the satin shirt he was in. By the time he reached the dressing room, he discarded it completely. Soojin, his manager, rushed in after him and asked as he shut the door, “You are really going?”

Yoongi placed the rings and earrings he had taken off on Soojin’s extended hands and nodded as he put his own t-shirt on.

“It is too public, Yoongi-ah…” the older gentleman tried to reason one last time as he saw the other scrub his face hastily off with a few makeup removal wipes.

“How will they know?” the rapper turned around, now having completed his outfit with a cap, a sunglass and a mask.

“They know you by the shape of your head and the size of your shoulder. You really want to risk it?”

“I am not risking anything. You are driving me there,” Yoongi said with a smirk evident in his tone.

Soojin was left looking at the open door of the dressing room that now had the stylist and a couple of other members of the crew walk in. He handed over the jewellery he was holding from earlier, bid goodbye and jogged off to his car.

---------------------------------------------------------

You were sat at the cafe sipping on your second latte of the evening. Tapping on your screen to check the time, you let out a yawn. 6:53. Well, maybe you could excuse an hour’s delay. Weekend traffic. Maybe he overslept? As much as you were grateful to Yong-ho, you were also hoping to see his face today. There are not many things you know about him. He has a deep, soothing voice. He smells nice. He is rich enough to casually wear designer jackets. He is kind, helpful and polite. Thoughtful. He is also quite patient. And his eyes. His eyes were beautiful. Solemn but with a shine that could make someone comfortable.

Comfortable. Why did a stranger you met for half an hour register as comfortable to you? Your phone chimed. A message from Sammy. - Done yet? “Still waiting” - Wtf

- I don’t think he will show up then - I told you it’s a perfect fit for me

- Let me keep it

You chuckled at the series of messages.

“I will wait till 7:30”

- Then meet me directly at Hajoon’s place

- I will put out food for Ash

“Thanks, man. See ya soon” You closed the chat and smiled down at your wallpaper. Ash fast asleep on Woolfie’s back. The kitten and the dog had gotten along exceptionally well. After Woolfie peed on the kitchen floor when baby Ash hissed at him from Sammy’s lap on the first night, there had been no major issues. Ash had tried once to drink from the dog’s bowl the next day and had fallen into it. You fetched her out and dried her up with a hand towel, and the rest of it, Woolfie had licked clean. That night was the first time they napped together.

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Yoongi sat on the floor near the sofa where Yijeong and Hoseok were playing FC24. Hoseok was leading by 3 goals. Yijeong almost threw his controller at him in frustration, as the rest of the small group around them chuckled and watched the game progress.

Yoongi also stared at the screen but his mind wandered far away from the game and his friends. His hands absent-mindedly tugged at the inseam of his jeans.

As Soojin pulled up in front of the cafe earlier that evening, he could feel the sweat drip down his spine inside the air-conditioned car. He stared for a few seconds at the road in front of the car before turning his head towards the cafe you had agreed to meet at. As if it was an attempt to allow himself to catch a breath and just appear cool, just in his own head. A failed attempt at that.

Even though he turned to look at the cafe from his car seat, he had not expected you to sit right at the window from where he was parked not even 4 whole metres away. Thankfully you were facing sideways, staring at something inside the cafe that Yoongi could not see. If only you were to turn towards the window to your left, your line of vision would directly collide with the tinted window of Yoongi’s car.

Soojin coughed lightly from beside him. Yoongi only blinked a couple of times before he shut his slightly agape mouth and swallowed the breath that he didn’t know was stuck at his throat. He saw your face move down towards the table, presumably where your phone was. Phone. Why didn’t he exchange numbers back then? He knows why. Well, he could have given Soojin’s number at least. They could arrange for a more discreet pickup.

Fuck the pickup. Yoongi had half forgotten that this meeting was about picking up the jacket he had lent you to wrap the rescued kitten in. Sure, that was the reason he gave Soojin that morning when he said he had to make a stop after the shoot. But for the whole weekend, his head had been clouded with your face. And your cooing voice at the kitten. And your bright smile as you introduced yourself. And the smell of your perfume and/or your shampoo that encircled you.

Looking forward to Sunday evening, he felt a tightness in his chest and stomach that could have been mistaken for trapped gas. But he knew this feeling all too well. It was anticipation. He has felt it for years ahead of each show or some big live interviews. He would also feel it once for someone he used to date. But that is what is odd.

Sunday evening was not a date. Hell, he even felt creeped out by the fact that his feelings mirrored something akin to what he would feel like in anticipation of dates. Of course, it wasn’t even his intention to turn a simple transaction meeting into a date. But he had also not expected the sleepless nights that followed meeting you. And the half-written lyrics of a song on his phone. Nor did he expect the feeling of missing somebody he had exchanged less than 20 lines of dialogue with.

When you had asked how to return his jacket, he almost wanted to say that you didn’t need to. Luckily, even within the first second, his mind deemed it too off-handed of a statement to make and he saw the cafe logo in his peripheral vision. Before he started overthinking and/or asked to exchange numbers, he pointed at the cafe and said, “How about we meet at that cafe on Sunday evening?”

And there he was. Outside the cafe. On Sunday evening. Almost having a panic attack in the safe confines of his car.

He could walk out of the car and into the cafe. He could walk up to you and say hello. He could make small talk for a couple of minutes. He could take back his jacket and thank you politely. He could then walk back out.

He could. But he didn’t want to.

He did not want to make small talk with you. He wanted to know how you were doing. How your days have been. If you have spent the three nights just as sleeplessly. He also wanted to know how the kitten was doing. How the two of you were getting along. If you had any other pets. If yes, how many. If all of them were getting along. If the pets had another parent. He wanted to ask you so many things and he wanted to hear you say so much.

The cafe was not at its busiest. Even from where Yoongi was, he could see a few empty tables. He drew in a deep breath and placed his fingers lightly on the door, preparing to open it.

It was at that very moment that you turned to your left, looking out of the cafe through the window you were sitting next to. You glanced down momentarily at what presumably again was your phone and looked back out the window. 6:18. You looked at people milling around the street outside the cafe.

But to Yoongi, you were looking right at where he was. The concept of his tinted glass windows disappeared from his comprehension as he (seemingly) held your gaze and fluttered one of his hands over Soojin’s arm, urging him to drive off. Alert as ever, the elder man started driving promptly. Yoongi “held” your gaze for as long as he could till he bumped his head against the car window, closing his eyes, inhaling and exhaling in quick succession trying to even his breathing.

He slowly slumped back down against the passenger seat of the car and unclenched the hand that he did not realise until now was clamping down on one of his knees. He stared ahead at the Sunday evening Seoul traffic, shivering a little from feeling some of his sweat dry up. Soojin turned to him at the next red light and said, “Don’t worry, Joon will understand.”

Nothing more was said in the whole car ride up to his friend’s place. Soojin dropped him off and went back to drop the car off at Yoongi’s building before heading to his own place. Yoongi had planned to drive back home with Hobi. They lived in the same building after all.

Joon will understand. Joon will understand?Joon will not even know that the jacket he gifted his hyung last year was missing unless Yoongi told him so.

He wasn’t thinking about Joon. Nor was he thinking about the jacket. Of course, he wasn’t.

He was thinking about your slightly impatient gaze. A loose bun sitting lightly at the nape of your neck. Your hands that you briefly rested your face on. Your face. You. He was thinking about you. Like he had for more than the past two days.

He was thinking about where you were now. What you were doing. What you were thinking. What you decided to do with the jacket. If you threw it at a random trash or kept it with you. If you were cursing him. If you were complaining about him to a friend.

He felt a cramp in his stomach that is usually indicative of nervous diarrhoea. He felt like a dick. For having stood you up, yes. But he was also disappointed at having chickened out. Maybe if he had not waited in his car at all, it would have gone over smoothly. Maybe if you hadn’t looked out at him (his general direction) he would not have freaked out. He tried to tell himself that it was too crowded. He was too tired. And not a coward because of his stupid, random, huge ass crush on Y/N Y/LN. Someone he only met for half an hour. And spent almost all of it watching her bond with a stray kitten by her side.

He looked up as he felt a slight kick on his back. He realised he was staring at a static screen and that his friends had all gathered over the pizzas that had now arrived. He had not noticed when even though he was the closest to the door. He got up and was making his way towards the rest of the group when the doorbell rang.

Yoongi stopped and turned around. He was the closest to the door after all. None of the others seemed to bother reacting to it anyway. He walked to the door and froze as he saw the person on the ring machine. He knew he was supposed to press a single button to unlock the door. He knew which button it was. But his head and his hands refused to cooperate. He stood frozen for a couple of seconds, staring at the screen in front of him, until the bell rang again.

Yoongi thought he heard this ring in a more muffled way as if it was coming from far away.

It wasn’t until the third ring that someone else left the group, half a slice of pizza stuffed in his mouth and half in his hand walked towards the door, that Yoongi could hear everything normally again.

“Must be Y/N,” Hajoon called out, patting Yoongi on the back, and reaching over his shoulder to open the door.

After the small beep, you walked in, almost bumping into someone’s chest.

#min yoongi #bts fic #bts suga #min yoongi x reader #suga #yoongi #yoongi fic #bts x reader

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dreamersbcll · 1 year ago

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“I’m the one who makes you laugh, when you know you’re about to cry”

for @samsblackheart

——————————————————————————-

Samantha Carpenter was a lot of things.

Tough As Nails, the local parents would whisper at parent pick-up. They always marveled at her strength, amazed at how the little eleven-year-old did it all. She would drop Tara off in the morning, climb the hill to the middle school, and walk back down to do it all again. No one ever heard her complain or cry. Yet, as amazed as they were, they never offered their condolences or even a helping hand. Instead, they looked upon her with pity in their eyes and their hands tightening onto their kids' shoulders as if neglect was a disease that could be transferred to their child.

Her friends described Sam as Black Ice. She wasn’t an outright threat, but if crossed, she would surely take anyone clean apart. The sixteen-year-old skulked the halls of Woodsboro High, her brow furrowed, and her mouth turned down in a pennant scowl. Though quiet, nobody doubted her prowess. Sam had taken down too many douchebags, giving and warning many black eyes and split lips. Nobody got in her way, but nobody willingly tried to talk to her. School counselors feared her, but teachers tolerated her. The only person who welcomed her anymore was the nurse. The nurse was the only person who treated Sam kindly and let her sleep off her hangovers on the uncomfortable cots.

On the streets that she wandered for a year or so, she was known as the Ghost. She scampered through alleyways, hid behind dumpsters, and struck when the time was right. Never bold, but also never forgiving. She took what she pleased and offered nothing in return. If a hand reached out to feed her, she bit back and didn’t let go. She knew what it was like to get hit, slapped, and beaten, and she wasn’t afraid to protect herself anymore. She was on her own, and she had to be quiet, cunning, and even careful if she wanted to survive (which she wasn’t sure about half the time); she had to be able to disappear to lick her wounds and fight another day.

In Modesto, her nickname was Serial Killer. It was initially a joke by Richie, but the bowling alley crew liked it so much that it stuck. Sam was gentler now, her edges sanded down a bit. No longer addicted and controlled by chemicals, she started to see what the world around her was like. Life had beaten her down enough for her to know that she shouldn’t bite before she barks. Perhaps that's how she had let her guard down just enough to let Richie slip in. She didn’t realize how much the boy projected onto her until it was too late.

But lucky for her, all her mistakes, nicknames, and nights of terror led her back to the one person she cared about. The one person who knew which smile she faked and which was genuine. The only person she truly belonged to in this world.

Her little sister, Tara, called her Sammy. That’s all Sam ever wanted to be. She would stop the world on its axis if it meant that Tara could always stay with her.

She doesn’t quite know how Tara did it, but no matter when Sam went, she followed. Her little sister was there the whole time, during every fight, every high, and every lonely night. Though Sam cast her out of her life at a young age, Tara still stuck around, as if she knew that Sam would one day come back and be hers again.

Nobody could make her smile quite like Tara did, whether it be a funny face, how Tara ate kiwis like apples, or how she scrunched her nose when she tasted something sour. There was something magical in those big brown eyes, something that couldn’t possibly be found on this earth.

Heaven. Her little sister was a slice of heaven.

And nothing would ever take Sam away from that again.

——

“You do know nobody loves you quite like I do, right?”

Sam looked up from her book, grinning at the voice on her lap. She dog-eared a book page and set it on the table next to her. Looking down at her little sister, she cupped the freckled cheek, her grin growing impossibly wider.

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” she asked, pretending to be puzzled.

Tara rolled her eyes, jutting a lip out in a fake pout. But that didn’t deter her. “You know what I mean. You know that nobody can make you smile like I do, and you damn well know that I know everything about you.”

Grinning, Sam brushed a piece of hair from Tara’s face. “Hmm. I don’t know If I believe you. Tell me again, please.”

Leaning into her touch, Tara sighed. “You tell me about your dreams, and I know you wanna be a chef one day. You like to put your socks on right to left, and you never leave the house without a pen. I’m the only one who can make you laugh when you get teary-eyed, and I’m the only one who can hold you as I do,” she said, smiling smugly.

Taken aback, Sam swallowed hard. It was weird to be known so well by someone, to be so open that the wind between her ribs could whistle. Her little sister had cracked open her sternum, reached in, and stolen her heart, and Sam would never complain if she never felt it beat again.

She cleared her throat, wiping the budding tears from her eyes. “You’re right. I love you, Tara. I belong to you, and you belong to me,” she whispered.

Her sister’s eyes softened with pure wonder and unaltered joy. Tara reached up, her fingertips grazing Sam’s chin. She leaned her head down a bit so Tara could touch her lips and cup her cheek. Leave her mask all over Sam, as it was a blessing to belong to someone so precious as her little sister.

“I love you, Sammy. I love you so much.”

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #AU: protect my heart #you belong with me x scream #ts x scream #ao3 author

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witchhazelevesque · 1 year ago

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Names have power, but in a silly way that's actually heartbreaking if you think about it: Esperanza Valdez named her son after her grandfather.

This complicates the whole Hazel Leo Frank thing cause like, that was their first question. Is this Sammy? In canon, the boy in the scroll who looked like Hazel's dead best friend said his name is "Leo" and this was the first sign that this situation wasn't as simple as it looked.

This time, Hazel sees this boy, and he is her old friend. Like, there's no doubt about that, right? That's his face, and his voice and his manner, that's his joking way, and his eyes that are playful but kind when it most matters, and that's his name, so this must be him, right?

And here's this kid who doesn't understand why his new crew mates are staring at him and whispering and acting all skittish around him- well, aside from the fact that he just attacked their camp, but like, they aren't acting angry about it. The girl is giving him these searching looks, and the guy is like, looking like he wants to hit him with a shovel, but also like he wants to ask him something really important.

Yet they just keep asking him stuff that isn't important.

"So, your name is Sammy?"

"I mean, I usually just go by Sam, but sure?"

Cue them whispering in low voices like they're judges conferring on a ruling or something.

"What's your stance on horses?"

"I mean, they're cool? You're a horse girl, right? And I guess you can turn into a horse guy if you want. Is this some kind of induction into your horse club?"

More whispered conferring, and a very unsettled son of Hephaestus slips away.

"But you're sure your name is Sammy?" he's asked again, for like the fourth day in a row.

"Yes, my name is Sam, Sam I am! I am Sam!"

"But... you don't know me?"

"No, and you're really not making me want to!"

So much confusion and hurt and not understanding what is going on for so much longer than needed. Maybe even the boy believing he had some past life with this girl when she shows him her memory, because yes, that is unmistakably her and so that… that must be him, right?

Wondering if Hera put all new memories in his head like she did with Wilderness school and Jason, and maybe he isn't really at fault for his mother's death, and maybe she's really okay somewhere, and he'll be able to find her once this quest is over and Gaea is defeated-

Only the truth does come out eventually.

And it's so much harder now.

#this was originally supposed to be funny!!!#leo valdez #hazel levesque #frank zhang #sammy valdez #esperanza valdez #names have power but this isn’t what that meant!!#hoo #son of neptune #mark of athena #heroes of olympus

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 5 months ago

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Taking Comfort (in Your Arms) - Chapter 13

November 1, 1943, 1200 Hours

Twenty-three days. 23 days without a word whether John, Gale, Benny, Brady, and the rest of the men were alive, sitting in a Stalag or killed in action. The longer the time went on, the hope Addie had felt those first few days slowly faded. She was constantly on the edge of her seat, waiting to hear something. At this point, she would have settled for word of their deaths, just to stop her mind from wandering, though that was exactly the last thing she wanted to hear. She couldn’t think about the what ifs. It had gotten to the point when she entered the command center, all she had to do was look at Croz and he would sadly shake his head.

Placing her coffee cup down on the table, she pushed back from the table, letting her head fall back with a sigh. Josie looked at her friend with concern as she sat across from her. “I won’t ask how you’re doing because I think I have a pretty good idea. But is there anything you need?”

“Word that he’s okay . . . is that too much to ask?” Pulling her head up, she looked over at Josie, biting her lip. “I mean the Germans have nothing better to do than to let us know who they’ve got in custody.”

Josie cracked a smile at that. “Glad your sarcasm hasn’t disappeared completely.”

“I am trying my best.” Addie smirked, shaking her head.

Josie sighed, feeling exactly how she felt, and nodded. “That’s all we can do - one foot in front of the other. Have you heard from Lydia or Anna lately?”

“Got a letter a few days ago from them. They were thinking of coming for Thanksgiving, just so we weren’t alone. I was thinking of writing them back and telling them to stay at their base - we’re going to be miserable so no use in bringing anyone else down with us.” Addie gave her best friend a look.

She bit her lip, watching Addie cautiously, worried for her despite her own pain. “Might not be a bad idea for them to come here - it’ll be nice to see them.”

“Did they put you up to this to gang up on me?” Addie shot her a wink, while her hand played with her napkin, avoiding Josie’s look.

Josie shrugged, a little too innocently. “Maybe . . .we’re just looking out for you Addie. We’re all a bit worried about you. What can we do?”

“Make the Germans give us the information on the boys would be a good start.” Addie bit her lip, another sigh escaping. “I just hate that we don’t have any information - I would think they would be screaming from the top of the mountains that they have our men in camps or even talking about prisoner exchanges. The silence is deafening and eerie.”

Josie sighed, not disagreeing with her best friend. “C’mon, let’s head back to the tower. I’ve heard that we’ve got visitors coming later on today.” Josie mentioned, knowing Addie’s attention would peak at that information.

Just like she predicted, after they left the table, Addie gave her a look. “What do you know about these visitors?”

“Word is that we’re getting another four forts being delivered. Kidd mentioned that some higher ups were supposed to be making a surprise visit here too.” Josie mentioned, slipping her hands into her jacket as they walked back.

Humming, Addie nodded, eyes scanned the airfield, smiling as she watched Meatball run around with Lemmons and his crew. Billy and Sammy, the two local boys, were eagerly throwing the tennis ball for Meatball to chase. “I’m going to go check with Ken to make sure he’s good with keeping Meatball for a bit longer. I’ll see you back up in the tower.”

Pausing, she watched Josie make her way towards the tower before turning and heading towards the commotion with a grin on her face. “Lemmons!”

“Hey Addie. Come to collect Meatball?” He grabbed a cloth, wiping the excess oil off his hands, grinning at her.

Shaking her head, watching Meatball lay down in the grass, tongue hanging out as he panted loudly. “Quite the opposite. Checking to see if you wanted to keep him for a bit longer? Looks like the boys are having fun with him.”

“You don’t know the half of it. I don’t know who is having more fun - Meatball or the boys?” Lemmons watched Meatball chase after the ball that Sammy had just thrown for him.

Addie giggled. “Well at least someone will sleep well tonight.”

Raising an eyebrow at her, Ken gave her a look. “You doing okay? Need someone to talk to?”

“Sick of waiting for news. Just wish the Germans would tell us if they’re lying in a field somewhere or relatively safe in a Stalag.” She shrugged, running a hand over her face with a loud sigh. “Sorry, that was harsh. Just want to know where our boys are.”

Ken pulled her into a side hug, as she laid her head on his shoulder. She took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry. “Thanks, Ken. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling - you fix the planes that take our boys up and when they don’t come back . . .”

She left the sentence hanging as Ken nodded sadly. “I’m sure you and I have similar feelings on that. Definitely miss seeing the men around the base.”

“As soon as I hear anything, I’ll let you know.” She whispered, eyes on Meatball getting cuddles and rubs from the two boys. “Thank you for keeping an eye on Meatball. I’ll come grab him a little bit, if that’s okay?”

“Sounds good Addie.” He started to head back to the shed. “Addie?”

She paused, looking over her shoulder at him. “Yeah?”

“I’m here if you need anything. I know a lot of people have told you that but if you need anything, you just need to ask.” He said as she nodded and grinned, heading back to the Tower.

Climbing the stairs, she tilted her head back, sun warming her skin and the wind blowing her hair gently. Feeling the cool metal on her hand, she took a deep breath, reminding herself to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.

November 25, 1943, 1400 Hours - Thanksgiving

The day was long, and it wasn’t even 1400 hours yet. Addie and Josie had spent a precious few hours with Anna and Lydia, who could only get a 24-hour pass to spend with them. The night before was spent dancing and drinking while the morning was subdued with the stark realization the boys wouldn’t be home anytime soon. Many tears were shed by Addie and Josie, to the annoyance of them both, tired of shedding tears with no news to accompany them.

Now she stood in line to get her Thanksgiving feast, wishing she was anywhere but there currently. Smiling weakly at the kitchen staff, she scanned the room looking for a vacant seat. A true smile crossed her lips when she spotted Rosie all alone.

Taking a seat at the table across from Rosie, she sighed. Unwrapping her silverware, she stared at the food on her plate for a moment. She longed for a true Thanksgiving dinner, real turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and gravy like her mom used to make, not what the Air Force was attempting to pass as Thanksgiving dinner.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Addie.” Rosie nodded at her as she picked up her fork and started poking the food on her plate.

Giving him a sad smile, she nodded. “Happy Thanksgiving, Rosie. What have you been doing with your day off?”

“Played a bit of football with the boys earlier.” Rosie smiled. “We had a good game going. Probably will probably do another game after this if you want to come watch.”

Nodding, Addie agreed, taking a bite of her food. Not like there was anything else to do around base. “Sounds fun. Meatball and I will be in the crowd. What would you be doing if you were back home in New York?”

“Probably would’ve gone to the parade earlier then gone home and ma would’ve been cooking. The house would’ve smelt incredible. The entire family would’ve crowded into our apartment around all the mismatched tables and chairs.” Rosie’s grin didn’t disappear the entire time he was talking, obviously thinking about the previous Thanksgiving he had spent with family. “What about you?”

Addie took a sip of her water sighing. “Not sure . . . haven’t been back in the States since 1941 so not sure what I would be doing. Probably in the kitchen cooking, joking with my cousins. When I was younger, we’d go to my grandmother’s house - dad was one of five so the entire family would come together on Thanksgiving. The house would be so loud, all my cousins and siblings running throughout the house, my grandmother, aunts, and mom would be hanging out in the kitchen while all the guys crowded around the TV with whatever football game on. It was loud and happy.”

“Those are some good memories, Addie.” Rosie smiled brightly. “Sounds like a big family and lots of noise.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You don’t know the half of it Rosie.”

Silence descended on the table as they both were lost in thought. “You know I never asked you, but do you have a sweetheart, Rosie?”

“If I had a sweetheart, Addie, do you think I would have mentioned her in the two months that I’ve been here?” Rosie raised an eyebrow at her as she grinned widely back.

Shrugging her shoulders, she had a glint in her eyes. “You’re a man of mystery, Rosie. It wouldn’t be hard for you to keep a girl quiet. Hell, half of the new recruits are scared to death of you . . .”

“Gotta keep them on their toes, Addie.” He chuckled. “As for the new recruits, if you look at them, you’d scare them too!”

Addie smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You haven’t heard the rumors?”

“No, what rumors?”

“That I’m a dropped-out ATA girl.” She grinned wickedly.

Rosie tilted his head, looking at her confused. “But you are a drop out ATA girl - why is that a rumor?”

“The rumor is that I got kicked out for crashing and burning a fort on a run.” She gave him a smirk. “Little do they know the actual reason I was kicked out . . . much more scandalous than that.”

Rosie chuckled. “That’s too funny. Have you talked or interacted with them much?”

“No, I hesitate to do so. Don’t want to get close to any of them and they go down like Bucky and Buck. I know Bucky would want me to and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t do it, Rosie.” She sighed, shaking her head, biting her lip. “I can’t say goodbye anymore.”

Nodding sorrowfully, Rosie looked at his friend. There was nothing he could say. He laid his hand down on the table, palm up allowing her to put hers on top, giving it a squeeze. “Have you flown lately?”

Shaking her head, she bit her lip. “No, haven’t been out old man Rivers’ in a bit. Need to get out there.”

“What if we go out there this afternoon?” Rosie asked, raising an eyebrow.

She perked up a bit, giving him a wearily look. “You want to go up with me? I would have thought you’d heard it from the boys that I scared them.”

“It would be my honor to go up with you, if you want to go up.” Rosie offered, watching her mull it over for a second.

Nodding, a grin slid across her lips. “Let’s go. I promise I won’t scare you like I did with Bucky and Buck.”

Within 45 minutes, Addie was behind a jeep, driving them towards old man Rivers’ house. The old man waved at the jollily as they drove towards the barn. Parking the jeep, she walked with a pep in her step towards the barn, throwing open the door happily. “Ta da! Rosie, may I introduce you to Daffodil? Daffodil, this is my friend Rosie.”

Rosie whistled as he walked around the brightly colored Tiger Moth. “You can go ahead and climb up into the co-pilot’s seat. I’ll be up as soon as I finish the checks.”

Soon she joined him up in the pilot's seat with a grin. Placing the headset on her head, she finished her checks before speaking in the headset. “You ready Rosie?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She grinned, hearing the excitement in his voice. “Amazing that you came all the way to England and just happened to find someone who had a spare Tiger Moth that let you fly it whenever you wanted.”

She laughed, starting the engine and starting to taxi it out of the barn. “It’s good to make friends in foreign allied countries, Rosie. Especially friends who just happen to have a spare plane we can joyride in.”

His laugh was caught in the wind as they went airborne. She pushed the plane higher, leveling out at 5,000 feet, she excitedly yelled at the feeling of being back in the air. “Anywhere in particular you want to go, Rosie?”

“I’m just along for the ride, Addie. You’re the pilot.” He replied back, his head on a swivel as he looked out of the open skies in front of them. “It’s different up here.”

“Yeah, you get to sit back and relax for once, Rosie. Just enjoy the flight and take in the sights.” She joked with him.

Settling back in her seat, Addie felt her shoulders relax as she pushed the Tiger Moth a bit more as she directed it towards Thorpes Abbott. As they flew, Addie pointed out points of interest to Rosie as they continued their flight. “We’re almost to Thorpes. Did you tell anyone we were going up?”

“No, I thought you did?” She laughed hearing the confusion in his voice. “Nope, Rosie. I told Harding you and I were going for a joyride but he’s the only one. I think Maddie is on the wireless today, so she’ll see us flying around.”

She saw the airfield in the distance and giggled to herself. “I know you’ve buzzed the tower in a fort before, but have you ever done it in a Tiger Moth?”

“Can’t say I have. But I’m sure you’ve done it a time or two.” He quipped back.

“Every single birthday since I was 13, most of them in a Tiger Moth. I buzzed this tower on my birthday with Bucky in the co-pilot’s seat, just before I scared Buck by stalling the engine.” She laughed, happy at thinking of the memories instead of being sad of them. “Get ready Rosie!”

Lining up Daffodil, she flew over the airfield once, seeing Lemmons and his crew cheering loudly at seeing her. She flew back around, lining the plane up, a grin tugging at her lips. “Let’s do this Rosie.”

And they buzzed the tower, both of them cheering, watching Harding, Josie, Crosby, and Kidd all hit the deck. Throwing her head back, Addie whooped and laughed at the feeling free for the first time since Bucky had gone down.

2000 Hours

Running her fingers through Meatball’s fur, she reread the words that she had written to Bucky. She had taken up writing to him, even though she had nowhere to send them. Just writing to him made her feel like he was still here with her.

My dearest John,

Happy Thanksgiving. God, I wish you were here and sitting beside me complaining about the lack of real turkey and mashed potatoes. But mostly, I wish you were here so I could cuddle with you and be grateful that you were safe and sound in my arms.

But alas, that’s not our current reality. I took Rosie up in Daffodil today and had a great time. It’s the first time I’ve been up since you went down and I think I needed it more than I thought I did. Despite not being back in the US, we had a pretty good day - a couple of the replacements started a football game and got the base out in droves to watch. The food was lackluster, but spirits were up. As soon as I’m done writing, I’m heading to the officer’s club with Blakely, Douglass, Croz, and Rosie for a drink.

I wish I had more to tell you, John, but I miss you. I miss your laugh and the little grins you’d shoot my way. I miss you randomly dropping by my desk in the mornings and the little kisses you’d give me. I miss the little notes you’d leave me, but those that I have I treasure more than you’d know.

Jack gave me your jacket and I’m going to be really honest, you’re probably not getting it back when you return. It’s mine now . . . though I may need you to wear it, so it regains your scent.

These last 47 days have been hard - I won’t lie. But I keep hope that you’re still alive, hopefully in a Stalag and relatively safe and warm.

Write to me, soon? Let me know you’re alive?

I love you, John.

Addie

December 5, 1943, 0800 Hours

Walking into the office, she flipped the lights on, the harshness causing her to groan. Getting to work making a pot of coffee, it was another twenty minutes before she sat at her desk. Looking at her calendar, she sighed with the lack of meetings scheduled, knowing the day would drag by slowly.

She felt like she was stuck and kept telling herself no news was good news. She still had hope that that particular day she would hear something, though the days had slipped by with no news of Bucky or Buck or DeMarco or any of the men that had gone down in October.

Addie was doing the best she could, which wasn’t all that great. She prayed her days would go by quickly so she could slip off to bed, where she tossed and turned. The girls had stopped asking questions weeks ago, Josie and Addie both shells of their former selves. She knew Bucky would be pissed if he saw her like this, but he wasn’t around, so she didn’t care much. She was utterly alone, left to battle each day by herself.

As she went to take a sip of the piping hot coffee, Harding threw open his door, causing her to jump in surprise, spilling coffee on her hand, causing her to cuss. “Addie, come with me.”

Something in her voice caused her not to question it and quickly followed him. Hurrying after him, they rushed down the stairs of the tower, making a quick walk to the command center. Not delaying, Harding threw open the door, calling out to Crosby, “what’s the news Croz?”

“You brought Addie?” Crosby called back, not seeing her standing behind him.

Harding cleared his throat, giving Crosby a very pointed look, pointing behind him. “Crosby, she’s here. What’s the news?”

“I just got a call from London with the new POW list.” Crosby grabbed the list he had hurriedly scrawled the names given. “Buck, Bucky, DeMarco, Brady, Murphy, Crank, and Hambone, along with all their crews, are all in the Stalag Luft III.”

For the first time since October 10, Addie felt like she could actually breathe. Her eyes went wide at that news. “They’re alive?”

“As of a week ago, yes. I asked for a report of the health of the men but they weren’t able to give me that information.” Crosby looked apologetic as her face fell slightly.

Sighing heavily, Addie felt the tears welled in her eyes. Feeling someone pull her into their side, she rested her head on their shoulder. Looking up, she smiled seeing Rosie and threw her arm around his side, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Crosby, is there any other news?”

“You got mail.” He handed over two envelopes, and she stepped forward, accepting the envelopes. “One is for Josie, can you make sure she gets it?”

Nodding, she flipped to the one addressed to her and couldn’t help the tears that escaped. A sob crept up, escaping her mouth. A steady stream of tears flowed down her face as she looked at the concerned faces around her. “It’s a letter from Bucky.”

The men surrounding her nodded. She gave them looks, backing out of the center, stumbling towards the runway to where the closest fort was parked. She sighed, fifty-seven days, since she heard from Bucky and now she had an envelope addressed to her in his handwriting. Once she was close enough, she sat against the tire, giving the envelope a glance before tearing into it.

Her eyes swept over the familiar scrawl, bits of it blacked out due to the sensors. Putting the paper to her nose, she breathed in the familiar scent that she had associated with Bucky - tobacco and sandalwood.

October 19, 1943

My dearest Addie,

I’m alive, Bluebird. I’m in —--------------- and I’m safe for the most part. I was a mess when I first arrived but after seeing the medic, I’m alright. Busted a rib and my eye socket is bruised but I’m alive, Bluebird. Buck’s here - met me at the gates with a “what the hell took you so long” and a grin. He’s in the next compound over but I see him daily - he sends his hellos and well wishes to you.

Tell Josie that DeMarco is here and he’s fine. I think he’s writing a letter to her but maybe not say that just in case. Send my regards to Meatball - I hope he’s keeping you company in my absence.

I know we didn’t leave on the best terms, and I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing for that, but I love you, Addie. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and it’s killing me that I’m not by your side right now.

I’m not quite sure where we are currently but I think we’re in —----------. The camp we’re in has —-----, —--------, —-------, and —----------. Most of the men here are Americans and for the most part, they treat us humanly. Could use an extra blanket or two but I’m doing alright. At least I’m with the rest of my men.

I wish I could kiss you senselessly and give you a big hug. I love you lots, Addie.

Yours,

John

Another sob escaped her mouth as she reread his words. She hoped he was that upbeat and not putting on a show in a letter just for her.

“Oh John.” Her heart broke all over again as she reread the letter, wishing more than anything that he was sitting beside her rather than 1,100 miles away from her.

She read it three more times before she sighed, the tension leaving her at the happy news. Despite the fact he wasn’t there with her, he was alive, and that’s all she had asked for the last 57 days.

December 15, 1943, 1700 Hours

“Addie, Harding wants you to go meet the group of pilots that are arriving on hard stand 4 in fifteen minutes.” Josie murmured to her, dropping a folder on her desk.

Picking up the folder, she flipped through it, looking wide-eyed at Josie. “I’ve never had to do it for any of the other pilots arriving here.”

“You went and met Rosie, remember?” Josie raised an eyebrow, grinning. “It’ll be just like that.”

Tossing the folder down on her desk, Addie wiped face. She wasn’t really in the mood to be the welcoming committee to anyone. “No, no it won’t be just like that. I won’t have Bucky teasing me.”

Sighing, Josie walked over to the other side of her desk, leaning over to give her a hug. “I know you don’t want to be your bubbly self, but these pilots are coming to the base and many of them don’t know what to expect. Just go welcome them, give them the lay of the land then you can curl up with Meatball. I’ll bring you dinner afterwards.”

Nodding, she sighed, pushing back from her desk to stand. “You okay keeping Meatball until I’m done?”

Looking over at the dog, passed out in his dog bed, Josie half-smiled. “Sure. I think he might be mad if you attempt to move him now.”

Slightly smiling, Addie nodded, grabbing the set of keys, pushing through the door, jogging down the stairs. Sighing, she climbed into the jeep, starting the engine, heading out to the hard stand. Parking, she watched the plane land, navigating to the hard stand, coming to a stop with the engine cutting off. She leaned against the jeep, watching the grounds crew, hurriedly put the chocks on the tires as a man dropped from the hatch.

Addie narrowed her eyes, something familiar about the way the man stood, looking around the field. Picking up his bag, his gaze fell to hers and she knew. She knew why that man looked so familiar.

Unable to do anything else, Addie bent at the waist, tears immediately welling up in her eyes as she cried.

It was her brother. Charlie was home. Standing tall, her hand flew to her mouth as tears continued to fall.

“Adelaide Baker!” He hollered, making his way towards her. Dropping his bag, he opened up his arms, eagerly waiting for her to run into them. He kissed her cheek, picking her up and spinning her around, just as he did when they were younger. “Oh how I have missed you.”

Waiting until her feet were back on the ground, she laughed happily, slapping his arm. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m home, they finally granted my request for transfer.” Charlie grinned. “I’m going to be a trainer here, no missions of my own.”

Giving him a look, she took in his words, a bright smile crossing her face. “You won’t be going up?”

“No, I’ll be working in the command center, assisting with building the missions but I won’t be a pilot. This is a promotion, believe it or not.” Charlie chuckled, shaking his head. “They asked me what base I wanted to be stationed at and this was the only one that came to mind.”

Throwing her arms around his shoulder, she laughed. “Oh, this is the best news I have heard in the last ten days.”

“Only in the last ten days? What was before that?” He asked, scratching his jaw, looking at his baby sister.

“We got word ten days ago that Bucky and Buck are POWs at a Stalag.” She looked at him, watching his eyes go wide at that news. He had made inquiries about them but had been told that was above his clearance and no one was willing to talk about them. “I got a letter from Bucky the same day letting me know him and Buck were safe.”

Charlie smiled. “Well ain’t that something. I’m glad you finally heard from him. I kept getting dead ends anytime I would inquire. If I had a nickel for every time I heard that was above my paygrade, I'd be rich and could retire.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t pick Anna’s base to go home to.” She smirked, finally happy that she could tease her brother about his not-so-secret girlfriend.

He threw his head back and laughed, loudly. “I thought about it for a minute but figured you’d need some family here. Besides, Anna’s the preferred B-17 pilot now for Thorpes, so she’ll be here plenty.”

“Hmm . . . you’re back in England for all of 48 hours and you’re already pulling strings.” Addie smirked at her brother as he started weakly protesting. “You know I’m right. Come on, I’ll give you the penny tour and show you where you’ll be staying.”

Leading him over to the jeep, she got in the driver’s seat, watching him throw his bag in the back before joining her. Shifting the jeep into gear, she drove them back towards the barracks. “Over there that’s the mess hall and my barrack is just to the left of it. Straight ahead is the barrack you’ll be in.”

Pulling the jeep to a stop, she grinned seeing Rosie and Crosby standing outside, eyeing her curiously. “Boys!”

“Addie.” They both called back, watching her hop out of the jeep and walk closer to them. “What brings you to our humble abode?”

“Boys, this is my older brother Charlie.” She grinned, looking over her shoulder at her brother. “Charlie, this is Robert Rosenthal, or Rosie and Harry Crosby. Rosie is a pilot and Crosby is group navigator on base. They’re also bunking here and can show you where everything is.”

The three of them exchanged handshakes in greeting as she grinned at the scene. “Josie mentioned there was a group of new pilots arriving today.”

“Yeah there were. I didn’t count how many arrived today but Charlie will be an instructor on base - not going up.” She grinned brightly at them, happy to have a piece of her family back on base.

Crosby whistled. “That’s great. Welcome to Thorpes, Charlie. I know this one is tampering her excitement down for the sake of looking cool.”

Slugging Crosby, Addie gave him a look. “Thanks for that Croz.”

“Just let us know if you want to know anything that’s happened over the last year since you’ve been gone, Charlie.” Crosby gave her brother a smirk.

Addie muttered a cuss under her breath. “Jeez, and to think I thought our friendship meant something. Willing to spill all my secrets as soon as my big brother arrives on base. Just remember Croz, I know where you sleep, and I know a few secrets of your own.”

“Damn, I forgot how scary you can be.” Rosie commented, looking between his two friends. “I’d watch what you say Croz.”

Charlie laughed. “Ahh she’s all talk with very little bite. Addie has always been that way.”

Addie looked between the three, shaking her head. She chuckled watching Crosby’s eyes go wide. “What’s wrong Crosby?”

“Just remembered what you did to Douglass to scare him after he slipped that supply request in your pile.” Crosby shook his head, while Addie threw her head back and laughed.

“Ahh, I forgot all about that.” She grinned. “That was my best revenge yet. That was legendary and kept the base on their toes for a few weeks.”

Charlie chuckled. “Is that where you dropped a box of rubbers and twinkies along with some feminine products?”

“Ahh so the boys already told you that story when they were in Africa, huh?” Addie smirked, shaking her head before looking between Rosie and Crosby. “Boys, can you show him an empty bunk? I’ll wait out here and we can head over to the mess together.” Rosie nodded, heading towards the barrack door with Charlie trailing behind him.

Leaning against the jeep, Addie smiled to herself. Things were finally turning around and for the first time since Bucky and Buck went down, she started to feel the hope creep back in.

December 25, 1943, 0900 hours

Groaning, she cracked open her eyes, seeing the bright light creep through the shades. Rolling over, she squinted, eyes wide when she realized it was 9am and she had slept in. Sighing, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, seeing the barrack was quiet, everyone up already and out of the hut.

Reaching over, she ran her hand through Meatball’s fur. “Merry Christmas, Meatball.” He groaned, rolling over onto his back so she could scratch his belly. She obliged him, both hands scratching as he hummed and groaned in happiness.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she looked at the locker that sat between hers and Josie’s bed. She hadn’t opened it since it was deposited there back in October. Easing off the bed, she sat in front of it, leaning forward to unlock it, pushing the top open. A thin layer of dust had settled over everything.

Reaching in, she moved his extra clothes to the side, seeing a stack of letters at the very bottom of the locker. Picking them up, she noticed most of them were addressed from Wisconsin, letters from his family. But at the very bottom was an envelope in his handwriting, with her name on it.

Without hesitation, she ran her finger under the flap, pulling out the piece of paper. She realized it was dated back in May 1943, right around the time she had first met him.

My dearest Addie,

I feel pretty stupid writing you this letter but I need to get this off my chest. You’ve been on my mind all day, might have gotten into trouble during the briefing due to my thoughts being on you instead of the observation mission. Might be just a tad sorry about that but not really, don’t tell Huglin.

It’s amazing that I’ve only known you for two weeks, yet I feel like I’ve known you all my life. And I don’t want you to stop being in my life. Never thought I’d come over to England and meet a girl that I want in my life for the rest of my life.

I probably will never give you this letter so I feel pretty comfortable writing this down - I think I’m in love with you. Yes, it’s only been two weeks but you’ve already knocked me on my ass and kept me on my toes at the same time. I’ve never met a girl like you before and I think that’s a good thing. Definitely cannot stop thinking about you, which could be a good or bad thing depending on the day. Also, you’re the first person (outside of Buck) that I want to rush to tell everything to.

Should probably wrap this up. Maybe I’ll give you this on our wedding day (if we make it that far).

Love you but not telling you quite yet.

John

Tears streamed down her face as she finished reading the letter. She knew he fell much sooner than she did but it was good to read his thoughts. Sighing, she leaned against her bed frame, letting her head fall back onto her bed. Meatball crawled over to her, his tongue licking away the tears that had fallen. Reaching behind her, she carted her fingers through his fur, patting his side in appreciation for being there for her.

Folding up the letter, she stuffed it back into the envelope, placing it back in the locker. Sighing, she shut the top of the locker, clicking the latches on it.

Pushing herself off the floor, she quickly got dressed, slipping on Bucky’s jacket before lacing up her shoes. Patting her leg for Meatball’s attention, she walked down the aisle of the hut, pushing open the door, allowing the dog to go out ahead of her. Shivering, she watched Meatball do his business before quickly walking over to the mess hut. Pulling open the door, she smiled at the warmth that wrapped around her as she searched the area for her friends and Charlie.

Making her way down the aisle, she stopped at a table that was in the middle of the hut. Charlie, Rosie, Crosby, Blakely, and Josie all sat around the table, each with a plate of food and a cup of coffee in front of them. Taking a seat in a chair, she greeted everyone with a cheerful “Merry Christmas.”

“About time you join us Addie.”

Sticking her tongue out at her older brother, Addie smirked. “I decided to sleep in this morning. Got the best Christmas present I could have asked for.”

“And what’s that?” Josie raised an eyebrow at the cheerful tone in Addie’s voice. Josie grinned brightly, seeing a glimpse of her best friend that she hadn’t seen in over 2 months.

Thanking the waiter for the cup of coffee, she smiled at the table. “Found a letter that Bucky had written me back in May. It was really sweet and made my day.”

“Back in May?” Josie looked at her friend. “That was before you two started dating, right?”

Picking up her coffee, she took a deep sip, nodding, smirking. “Yeah that was right after he arrived here on base. I still thought he was an arrogant flyboy - amazing how that has all changed.”

December 25, 1943

Dear John,

Merry Christmas, fly boy. Wish you were here instead of the stalag but I’ll take the fact you’re still alive as a Christmas miracle.

It was a pretty low key day today. Charlie, Josie, Crosby, Rosie, Blakely, Douglass and I hung out throughout the day and exchanged presents with one another. It was good not to be alone on an already tough day.

I’m going to admit something - I found a letter you wrote me back in May at the bottom of your locker and read it. It made my day and made me smile. It was the perfect unintentional Christmas present I could have asked for. I’m still holding out on walking down an aisle in a white dress towards you, Egan. Don’t let me down.

My Christmas wish for you is that you’re warm and safe and happy. Hopefully you and the boys found a bit of joy.

Love you with all my heart.

Addie.

Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Anything you want to see in the upcoming chapters? I've got a loose outline planned so if there's something you want to see, just let me know! Also, sorry, there wasn't any Bucky or Buck in this chapter, but Addie needed a chapter of angst and hurt. Both Bucky and Buck will be back in next chapter.

Chapter 14

#addie + john #taking comfort in your arms #john egan fan fiction #john egan fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfiction #john egan x oc

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neverwanttofallasleep · 1 year ago

Text

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Chapter 3

Word count: 4,519

For pairings, warnings, and disclaimer - see Masterpost

Saturday, December 17th, 2022

London, England

“Freddie, can you hand that empty rack down?”

He passes the clothing rack to you from the back of the truck, before lowering the lift and jumping down himself.

“Thanks!” You call over your shoulder as you begin to wheel the rack toward the loading bay of the venue.

Almost all the gear has been set up now. The crew have been here since 11am, while you got to work from your hotel room. Your trunks of mended, cleaned and ironed outfits are the last thing to be brought in by the roadies.

The backstage area of this venue is much bigger than the last few you’ve been to. Usually, you stow all the trunks in the green room and just unpack what’s needed for each member of the band. Tonight, though, you have the luxury of setting up each trunk in the respective dressing room, with all the selected outfits for this tour available to each boy to choose from. Sam and Josh are sharing one room, Jake and Danny in the other.

The selections they’ve made for this tour are incredible, tailored pieces of black, white and shades of gold, all adorned with sparkly embroidery, rhinestones and sequins. You love seeing them all dressed up together, truly a vision come to life, and you feel so prideful that you’re the one that gets to look after these incredible garments while they’re on the road.

You’d spent your morning meticulously steaming Josh’s sheer, floaty golden robe, among other things, as per his requests. They all usually have a vision for each night, swapping out the pieces to give themselves a fresh yet cohesive look for each city.

Josh is partial to his jumpsuits, he has 13 with him on this tour. They suit his personality so perfectly, heightening that spunk and flair he naturally exudes. Your favourite is his gold velvet one, covered in embroidered white roses.

Sammy wears suits, no shirt underneath, always high-waisted trousers with hip-length jackets, and always with his signature pleated wing under the left arm. This tour he’d been rocking the sword appliqué on all his pieces.

“It’s my new thing!” He’d told you.

Danny has his own style, same-same but different from the rest of the band. Like Josh, he loves the sparkles and capes, but his outfits have to be extra-functional for drumming, so he usually wears a seperate bejewelled top and short cape with his classic, pleated satin pants.

Jake’s outfits are always your favourite. Like Sam, he wears suits, but with tighter trousers and cropped jackets. The silhouette reminds you of a military uniform, like he’s preparing for battle before he takes the stage. You love the many black suits he wears, all similar with unique gold embellishments, but your favourite is his white suit. Unlike his others, this one has lapels, and is covered in incredibly detailed gold archery motifs. When you first saw him in it, you’d felt your heart skip a beat. You’d tried to keep your awe to yourself, not wanting to inflate his ego further, but you had to compliment him. He’d looked phenomenal.

“This one looks the best on you.” You’d tried to sound casual, with a mouth full of sewing pins, as you marked the alterations on his shoulder.

He’d raised an eyebrow at you. “Huh. You think so?”

You nodded.

He hummed. “I’ll have to remember that.”

You’d smiled at that, your cheeks reddening.

He’s yet to wear it for a show, but you imagine he’s saving it up for a special one, perhaps when you return to the States. You always keep all their options available for them, as some people (Josh) like to change their mind a few times before settling on a look.

You eye the white suit as you open up his trunk, beginning to unload their selections for this evening’s show. You consult the list you’ve been emailed, hanging Jake’s rose suit and Danny’s black satin trousers and silver vest onto the rack you brought with you, triple checking for any loose threads.

It’s nearing 5pm, and you know the boys will be done with soundcheck soon. According to your itinerary, doors tonight open at 6.30. You’re keen to have everything set up before they come down, not eager to run into Jake after your strange interaction last night.

Danny and Jake’s bags are already stowed in the corner of the room, with an opened bottle of Jack Daniels on the dressing table. You sigh. The excessive drinking just proves to you that Jake can’t possibly be as unaffected by your situation as he’s putting on.

You’ve been replaying last night in your head all day, unsure what to make of it. He was obviously drunk, you knew that. But after the awful non-interactions you’d had earlier in the day, his desperation for you to stay with him last night was making your head spin. You want to confront him about it, but you decide that now isn’t the time. One last show, and you’ll be heading home tomorrow.

Once you’re satisfied with the set up, you head over to Sam and Josh’s dressing room. As you reach the door at the corner of the hallway, all painted black bricks and fluorescent lighting, you hear footsteps coming from the other direction. You poke your head around, and when you see Danny’s smiling face moving toward you, you step out fully.

“Hey, Y/N!” He gives you a genuine grin. “I feel like I haven’t seen you since we left Manchester! Busy day yesterday?” He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

If anyone can catch onto your mood without you having to say a word, it’s Danny. He can just read people like that.

You return the smile, realising he’s right. You’d been so determined to coop yourself up to avoid Jake, you’d missed out on seeing the rest of your friends.

“Sorry, Dan. I had so much work to do - had to fix your cape! Missed you though. How was your first night in London?”

“Fucking awesome.” He chuckles. “A few of the gang went a bit too hard, too early, though. By 1am it was only Josh, Jules, Meghan and I left.” He shakes his head. “How did Jake manage this morning? He and Sam were the first to bail.”

You give a little smile. “Not sure, I wasn’t with him this morning.”

Danny raises an eyebrow. “Really? Surprised to hear it, if I’m honest. He wouldn’t shut up about you last night. Thought you might’ve finally broken your rule and done the deed.” He smirks.

You chew your lip and shake your head. “No, nothing like that. I saw him when he got in, though, he was in pretty rough shape.” You give him a rueful smile.

Danny is the only member of the band that you’ve really talked to about your friendship with Jake. Although he doesn’t explicitly know of your feelings, you imagine he has an inkling as to why you won’t cross that line.

As Danny’s about to reply, the other three boys emerge from the stairs at the end of the corridor, presumably making their way back from soundcheck.

Jake glances up and sees you, immediately looking back to the floor.

He’s embarrassed.

Well, at least that solidifies your theory that he wouldn’t have said any of it if he was sober.

Sam and Josh greet you enthusiastically, Jake giving a small nod.

You see Danny’s eyes flick between you and Jake.

“How’s the set up going, Y/N?” Josh places his hand on your shoulder. “Need us to do anything?”

You’re thankful for Josh. “Nah, I’m almost done. Jake and Danny’s is all good to go, I’m just heading in here now to unpack your trunks.”

He nods. “Easy. We can stay out of your way. We’ll just go hang out down the hall ‘til you’re ready for us.”

“Thanks, Josh.”

“Come join us for a drink when you’re done?” Sammy chimes in.

You glance at Jake, who’s still staring into space, anywhere but you.

“I’m alright. I’m going to meet Jules out in the gardens, she’s bringing us some dinner.”

Sam looks disappointed. “You gotta come in for a pre-show shot then, both of you. It’s the last night of Europe, can’t have you missin’ out.”

You sigh, glancing to Jake and back to Sam. “I’ll be there. Can’t let you go out on stage without a once over. Gotta check you for boogers.”

Danny and Josh laugh.

Sammy frowns. “I’m proudly booger-free, I’ll have you know.” He retorts.

You grin. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Samuel.”

The four of you giggle, and you notice Jake getting restless.

“Alright, gotta get back to work. See you in a bit!”

You shuffle around Sam and slide into the second dressing room.

“You want the last bite?” Julie waves her pastry at you.

You shake your head. “I’m good. The sandwich filled me up. Thanks, though. Just not a huge appetite today.” You take a swig of your now-cold coffee.

She hums. “I noticed. What’s on your mind, girl?”

You consider for a moment. If you can tell anyone what’s been going on, it’s Jules. She’s your colleague and your friend, and she doesn’t have any loyalty to the band. You feel the need to share what’s been filling your mind these past 48 hours, just to unload some of the stress.

When you look up from tracing circles on the lid of your cup, you find her empathetic eyes assessing you. “Jake and I had a fight.”

“Oh, babe. What the fuck happened?”

You feel your eyes welling already. “That’s the thing. I don’t even really know.”

She sips her coffee. “How did it come about?”

You tell her the story of the other night, explaining your worries about the friendship becoming too close, and your admission. You tell her how he acted yesterday, and even how he was earlier by the dressing rooms. Julie knows why you keep things platonic with Jake, so she gets it.

Once you’ve finished, she just sighs.

“So, you haven’t spoken since Manchester?”

You groan. “I think that was his plan, if I’m honest. But I caught him last night, blackout drunk and struggling to get into his room. He asked for my help, and he just seemed, well, normal.”

“Fuck. And did you? Help him, I mean?” She says through the last bite of her croissant.

“Yeah, I helped him inside and take off his shoes and stuff. Got him some water. He kept asking me to stay with him. Told me I was beautiful.” The tears are coming now.

Jules puts her hand over yours. “Babe, I get it. That would be fucking hard to hear. Especially after what you told him. I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that shit.” She frowns. “That boy needs to keep his dick in his pants. He’s been leading you on, even if he doesn’t realise it.”

You hear the truth in her words, but the worst part is, all you can think is how you wish things could go back to how they were before. You’d take him leading you on over this any day.

You choke out a little sob. “I know that. You’re right. I just, I dunno. I just miss him.”

Jules takes both your hands in hers now. “I know you do, babe. And if that fucker has any sense, which I think he does, he’ll get his shit together and apologise.” She sighs. “I can’t tell you where to go from here, because I know it’ll be hard either way. But if you’re really prepared to just have a friendship with him, then I’m sure you guys will work it out. Fuck, he’d be an idiot not to.”

You laugh a little through the tears, throwing your arms around your friend.

“Thank you, Jules. I love you. I’m sorry to drag you into all this, but I’m so glad I have you.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry about me, girl. I fucking live for the drama. And I’ll always be here for you.”

“Right back at you.”

“I love you, too, Y/N. Just take care of yourself. Danny was right, you know. Jake couldn’t stop talking about you last night. Just don’t let him hurt you.”

You pull back and nod, sniffling.

“I’ll try.”

At about 7, after a brief crew meeting, you and Jules head back down to the dressing rooms. It’s time for her to start on Josh’s makeup, and you figure that his dressing room is the safest hiding place for you right now. At least Sam’s constant babbling and Josh’s telling him off will keep you entertained for an hour or so.

Sam mixes you a drink, some tequila and soda from their rider, and sits with you on the couch.

“Where’s Lennon?” You question. You realise you haven’t seen or spoken to her since breakfast this morning.

“She’s watching from GA tonight. Got some friends coming along. They have passes so I’m sure they’ll be back here after the show.”

“Oh, that’ll be nice for her. Anyone you know?”

“Yeah, a friend of hers from school and his partner who’s from here. We met up with them at the pub last night.”

You smile. “Ah, yes. The infamous pub. I hear you didn’t make it past 11, Sammy boy.”

“Neither did Jake!” He says defensively.

You roll your eyes.

He grimaces. “I was still hungover, alright? Plus, I needed my beauty sleep. I don’t get to just slap on some concealer and rhinestones to hide my eye-bags like some of us do.” He gestures to Josh.

Josh chucks a brush at him. “Hey, don’t come at me. It’s my war paint. I need it to focus.”

“It’s alright, brother. Not all the Kiszkas could be blessed with natural beauty. There had to be one dud.”

Josh throws another brush and Jules scolds him.

“Sit still, Josh, or you’ll end up looking worse than you fucking started.”

Sam chuckles.

When she’s done with Josh and given Sammy some shimmer, Julie leaves to go and sort out Danny, and you hang back to fuss over Josh and Sam.

With about 15 minutes till their set starts, Julie, Danny and Jake make it back into Sam and Josh’s dressing room.

When you see Jake, your breath catches.

He’s wearing the white suit, and he looks radiant. Looks like Jules has even talked him into a little eyeliner. You see him peek a glance at you before quickly looking away.

Why tonight, Jake?

Surely he had to know that would mean something to you. Did it mean something to him, too?

Craig and couple of the techs join you all too, including Freddie, and you all stand in a circle while Josh and Sam hand out shots of tequila.

You lean over to Jules and Freddie. “After this tour, I’m never drinking tequila again.”

They giggle. “Fuckin’ amen to that, sister.”

Josh clears his throat, and begins his pre-show toast. “Well, we’ve done it, folks. We’re officially on the last European show of this Dreams In Gold circus. I’d like to thank our fabulous team for working so hard for us these past few months. We know it’s been gruelling, but you’ve all done a stellar job at getting us places on time, making us sound and look beautiful,” he gives you and Julie a wink, “and keeping us from murdering each other. If I don’t see you, I hope you all have a wonderful holidays, may we reunite Stateside in the new year! Bajabule!”

“Bajabule!” You all cheer and toast your shots.

Across the circle, Jake makes eye contact with you, raising his shot glass towards yours.

You give him a meek smile, unsure how to respond.

You turn back to Julie and grin, downing your drink, as you hear a chorus of groans and coughs around you from the burning liquor.

Freddie gets a call through his comms.

“Alright boys, time to hit side stage.”

They all file out of the dressing room. You hang back to tidy up a little, Josh and Sammy having left discarded items of clothing all over the floor and couch. You pick up Sam’s underwear, grimacing as you toss them into the drawer of his trunk.

As you turn to walk out, you see Jake lingering in the doorway, looking at you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna be late.” You say quietly.

He nods.

He goes to turn, and then stops, his eyes meeting yours again. “Like the suit?”

You sigh. “Yeah, Jake. I do.”

He smiles to himself and makes his way up to the stage.

The set is electric, you can feel the buzz of the crowd from backstage. The boys are really giving it their all for this last show abroad.

You watch most of it, unable to peel your eyes away from Jake in that suit.

Your favourite suit.

And he knew it.

You figure this is his form of an olive branch, but you mentally curse him for not choosing a less romantic gesture. It was sweet of him to think of you in that way, knowing that this was your passion, and this would be the most meaningful way he could show you he cared. You just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.

He was always gorgeous, but this suit… it just made him angelic. You had a hard time keeping your eyes off him on your best day, but tonight, he was magnetic.

After shedding a tear during ‘Broken Bells’, Jules gripping your hand, you decide now is as good a time as any to start the pack up. If you weren’t waiting for them side stage, you hoped the boys and crew would just bring their stuff back to the dressing rooms. You just couldn’t be there right now. You didn’t want to see him when he stepped off stage, glistening with sweat and radiating with adrenaline. It would be too much. It was already too much.

Julie follows you, and you both solemnly keep to your devices as you rehang Jake’s rose suit into his trunk, quietly cursing him again. Julie packs up the pieces of her kit she’s left in each room, wiping her brushes, and leaving some makeup wipes by the mirrors for the boys when they return. You fold their street clothes and leave them in neat piles in their trunks, trying to be as prepared as possible. Julie helps you disassemble the now-empty racks, ready to be stowed back on the truck.

When you’re both happy with the state of the rooms, you steal two beers from Josh and Sam’s rider and head out to the loading dock for a cigarette, waiting for the chaos to ensue.

Pack down goes fast enough and pretty smoothly. You manage to successfully avoid Jake, finding his suit already hung up in his trunk and his street clothes gone when you to go close them up. Every time you and Jules cross paths, she gives you a sweet look or squeezes your arm gently. You’re so grateful for your friend, and so glad you confided in her. You’d thought about talking to Lennon, but really, you aren’t that close. Plus, she’s Sammy’s girlfriend, so you really don’t know where she’d stand. You make a mental note to text her later, as you haven’t seen her during the chaos. You figure she’s with the band, celebrating somewhere.

After everything is securely back on the truck and you’ve reported your checklist to Craig, you board the mini-bus, ready to head to your hotel room and crash. Jules sits beside you and rests her head on your shoulder. Truthfully, you’re beat. It’s been an exhausting few days, both mentally and physically. You’re grateful for the late start tomorrow, your flight out of Heathrow not until 3pm. You plan to sleep until the last possible minute.

When you finally get back to your room, you strip off your coat, crew shirt and black pants, tossing them in a pile in the corner for you to deal with tomorrow. You’re too exhausted to think about having a shower, and you mentally thank yourself for choosing not to wear makeup on show nights. You throw on a sleep shirt, braid your hair, brush your teeth as thoroughly as you can manage, and flick off the lights, eagerly anticipating the warm bed.

Once you’re bundled up under the covers, you shoot Lennon a message, wishing her a good night, letting her know you’ll catch up with her at some point tomorrow before you leave. You recall Sam mentioning they were staying in London for a few extra days, so you’d have to find her for a coffee before you head to the airport.

You’re elated about not having to set an alarm. You put some music on and switch off the lamp, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

You’re awoken by your phone ringing. You have no idea what time it is, but it’s definitely still dark outside. You’d put your phone on do not disturb, so it must be one of your emergency contacts. You groan and roll over, fishing by the pillow for your cell. When you finally locate it, you squint at the bright light, seeing Jake’s name flashing on the screen. 3.26am. You answer.

“Hello?” Your voice is thick with sleep.

“Can you open your door? I’m outside.”

You flick on the lamp. “What? Why?”

You hear Jake sigh through the phone. “I need to talk to you, Y/N. Can you please come to the door?”

“Okay. Hold on.” You hang up and roll out of bed, pulling down your t-shirt from where it’s ridden up over your belly. You tuck your loose hair behind your ears, and open the door.

Jake is standing there, hands in his pockets, still wearing his clothes from earlier today.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk. Please let me in.”

You’re annoyed that he’s chosen to do this right now. “Does it have to be at 3.30 in the morning? Can’t we do this tomorrow?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve already left it too long. I need to say this now.”

He’s definitely had a drink, but he’s not drunk like you imagined him to be. Actually, he seems quite lucid. You take a step back and gesture inside. He steps past you, walks to the centre of the room and turns back to face you. You shut the door and look at him, unsure how to proceed, so you don’t. You wait for him to speak.

He looks nervous. He runs his hand through his hair, pacing the carpet, staring at the floor.

“Look, I, uh, I'm really sorry. I really fucked up the other night. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was cruel and you didn’t deserve that.”

You let out the breath you’ve been holding. “Okay. Thanks for saying that.”

“I really mean it. It wasn’t fair of me to put it all back on you. I didn’t know that’s how you felt, and I reacted poorly. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You walk over and sit on the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry too, Jake.” He looks down at you with those soft, brown eyes. “It wasn’t fair of me to say that, knowing your situation. There was a better way of handling it. I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. I want you to be able to be honest with me.” He sits down next to you. “You mean a lot to me, y’know, and these past couple days have been really shitty. I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t want to go home without explaining myself to you.”

“I appreciate that, Jake. I missed you too.”

He hums.

You pat the back of his hand where it’s gripping the edge of the bed. “Can we just go back to how we were before?”

He looks directly into your eyes, flipping his hand up to thread his fingers through yours.

He brings his other hand up to your chin, his index finger tilting your head up lightly toward his.

You can feel your heart hammering.

His gaze flicks to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

He leans in, ghosting his lips ever so softly over yours.

You lean into it for a moment. You’ve spent so long wondering what this would feel like.

It’s fireworks.

After a few seconds, you pull away.

“What are you doing?”

He frowns. “Isn’t this what you wanted? I know it’s complicated. You know I can’t be with you. But I need you in my life, Y/N. So if you want this, you know,” he gestures to himself, “I want it too.”

“Want what? To sleep with you?” You pull back further, so none of you is touching him.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess so? God, it sounds so crass when you say it like that. I just mean, you know what I can offer you. This is it. And I want you around. So let me give this to you.”

You sigh, running all this over in your head. You think back to what Jules said.

“No, Jake. I don’t want sex. I want to be friends, like we were before. If you want that.”

“What about what you told me the other night? This not being just friendship to you?”

“It is. You said so yourself. We’re close, and we like each other’s company. I want you in my life too. It’s just friendship.”

He sighs and drops his hands into his lap. You wish you knew what he was thinking.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I can’t stand not being around you. I need you, Y/N.”

“I need you too, Jake.” You rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Thanks for wearing my suit tonight.”

He hums. “I just wanted you to see me how I see you. When we ran into each other in the elevator yesterday, and you had my sweatshirt on, y’know…” He sighs. “I can’t explain it. It just made me happy.”

Your heart flutters.

“Can I, uh, can I sleep in here?” He puts his hand on your thigh. “I meant what I said, I don’t sleep the same without you.”

You giggle. “Of course you can. This bed is huge.”

He grins. “Good.”

You scoot back up the bed as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his jeans, unbuttoning the bottom few buttons of his navy shirt and letting it fall to the floor.

“Alright. Move over, bed hog.”

You giggle and scoot over to your side as he climbs in.

You both get comfortable and you reach up to switch off the light.

His hand finds yours under the covers.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jake.”

“Will you come home with me for Christmas?”

Chapter 4

@sinarainbows

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