#black metal garage handles

[littlelightx]

Medium Houston An illustration of a medium-sized attached two-car garage in the mountain style.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

What a Mess || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: After the disastrous start to the Brazilian GP, Charles needs an outlet Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, rough sex, choking WC: 1.3k

Charles didn’t say a word as he navigated his way through the garage to you. His team patted his back and offered words of consolation but he didn’t feel them, he didn’t hear them. All Charles needed was an outlet for the blood pulsing through his body with all the rage of an inferno.

You were on your feet as soon as you saw him round the corner and though you couldn’t see his eyes through the visor of his helmet you knew that they would have darkened with the storm of emotions ravaging him. He didn’t stop as he reached you, merely reaching out after ripping the glove off his hand and grasping your upper arm to tow you along with him.

“Charles, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t,” he spat, the tone clipped and acerbic. “Don’t say another word.”

You kept your lips closed and nodded as you let him guide you out of the sight of his team. The garage wasn’t as permanent as some of the other tracks, with temporary walls erected from thin materials, so silence was needed when he shut the door to his driver room. You watched as Charles grabbed a chair and shoved the metal back up under the door handle before testing its durability. 

Your fingers were already reaching for the zipper at the side of your dress as he tugged his helmet off his head and let it fall to the concrete floor with a crack. He tugged his balaclava off next and dumped it next to your dress at your feet as you reached for him. For a moment he closed his eyes and let you cradle his face, the lack of crease lines on his cheeks showing just how little he spent wearing the protective gear. You would do anything to see Charles race again - really race, like he did last year. 

Somehow he still had hope for next year.

But what he needed now, well, Ferrari couldn’t give that to him. Only you could give him what he needed. An escape.

“Turn around,” he whispered as he caught your hands and pulled them away from his face. “Bend over.”

You complied in an instant, eager for the pleasure he promised and the high he was chasing. Your hands spread across his massage table as you pressed your front down onto the cold black vinyl and heard the velcro snap of his collar before the zipper was dragged down his race suit.

“Don’t make a sound,” he breathed across your skin and you shivered with delight as dropped to his knees behind you. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me.”

His palms grasped your ass, roughly massaging them as he watched you squirm on the table impatiently. Next came his teeth, a chuckle following the bite to the sensitive skin at the back of your thigh as your back stiffened with the sounds you barely suppressed. His strong hands pushed your stance wider and his breath was heavy at the sight before him.

Finally. Finally, he buried his head between your legs and dragged his tongue along your slit. You couldn’t hear his moan when he tasted you but you could feel the vibrations on your core and your nails nearly pierced the vinyl at the sensation.

Charles worked you into a frenzy with his lips, his teeth, his tongue. He wasn’t happy until your legs could barely hold you without buckling and your silence was broken with a muffled cry. One orgasm rolled into the next and you lost yourself in the heady feeling, your mind empty save for the man who rose to his feet behind you.

“You’re a mess,” he whispered in your ear as he draped his body over yours, pride thick in his tone. You relished the weight that pinned you in place and the warmth of his skin on yours, barely being able to remember when he had stripped his fireproofs off. Charles’ hand fisted your hair and turned your head to crane back enough to see his green eyes jaded. “You’re a mess, just like me.”

Whatever argument you might have put up was swallowed by his kiss and it was just as messy with teeth and tongue. You melted at the growl he gave as he won the fight for dominance as he always did and a hand slipped between your bodies as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

“Putain,” he swore as he reverted back to his native tongue. Your neck was still strained and the ability to talk or even swallow was almost impossible but still a strangled sound escaped as he snapped his hips and filled your cunt with one hard thrust. “Shhh, ma chat.”

You tried, you really tried, but your brain was no longer connected to your body as he fucked you into a mindless state. Your eyes rolled back into your head with each long stroke and your ability to breathe was lost when he bent his knees and somehow found a deeper angle. 

There was no hope of keeping quiet when he found the sweet spot deep inside you and whatever he saw on your face had his hand curling around your throat. The sound that was building deep in your chest was choked with his tightening fingers and your heartbeat began to throb in your ears. 

Your head spun and your body reacted, your hips bucking and your core tightening. Just when you thought you were going to have to reach for his hand, his fingers loosened and your lungs gasped for fresh air before it was stolen again. He knew what you could handle, and you knew you could trust him. He needed this as much as you did. He needed to be in control of something when it seemed everything was out of his reach. You were more than willing to let him control you. 

This time when your orgasm came your cunt clenched tight around his cock and he trembled at the feeling. He called you his vice, in every sense of the word, and he relinquished the control he had yearned for as he lost himself in his own blissful release. 

For a few moments he just lay there, draped across your body like a comforting blanket but all too soon the noise of the world around returned to your drumming ears and reality drew him from you. 

“Why the fuck am I so unlucky?” he asked as he swiped his clothes from the floor, but you weren’t sure if he was asking the universe, himself or you.

“There’s no such thing as luck, Charles,” you answered anyway. His eyes flicked to you and watched your skin disappear beneath the dress you pulled back on. “Ferrari is unreliable. If you want to change your ‘luck’, start with changing your team.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he sighed. He kicked the chair aside that blocked the door before opening it and brushing his sweaty hair back into place. “I’ll see you tonight?”

He shouldn’t have had to ask and his insecurities only made you sad as you stepped closer to him. You caught his chin between your thumb and forefinger, tipping his head down so you could see your reflection in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

His smile almost chased away the shadows on his face before he kissed you, soft and gentle this time. “I should go.”

“You smell like sex.”

He froze and realised he hadn’t even been thinking clearly enough to wash his face and after running his tongue over his lips he could still taste you. A real smile grew on his face and his head fell forward to touch yours with a laugh. “Oh my god, I told you I am a mess.”

“Yes, you are,” you agreed with a laugh as you closed the door again. “But this is a mess that I can help with. Come on, take a seat, it’s my turn to boss you around.”

[thoughtsfromlayla]

Trip Down Memory Lane

Summary: Dream gets absolutely fucked by a piece of metal

Notes: ~800 words

Warnings/Tags: None, have fun with this dumb fic, he doesn't get tetanus, queued post

Main Masterlist | One Shot Masterlist

“You humans are so attached to objects,” Dream commented when he comes into the mess that is your garage. 

You barely jump, having long since gotten used to his impromptu visits. You’re in your messy gym clothes from high school, the t-shirt full of holes, and the sandals that have walked through Hell and Earth with. In the garage, you’re surrounded by the things of your childhood and two large boxes simply labeled “Donate” and “Keep”

“It is trash, but it’s sentimental trash!” You defended as you held a broken Skip-It in your dirty hands. You throw the plastic toy into an unknown corner you have now labeled “Trash”

Dream is content with himself as he watches you dig around and sort your things. He watches as colorful toys of your childhood get stacked in the “donate” box. 

“Holy crap, I forgot about these,” You smile, holding the ziplock bag of endless amounts of Silly Bandz. 

You walk over to Dream, opening the bag, and ignoring the few strands that managed to escape. You pick out a few that you thought suited Dream: a red flower, a silver crown, a blue castle, and a black bird. 

“Gimme,” You ask while looking at his arm. 

Dream holds out his hand to which you stretch the rubber around his wrist before letting go and letting the bracelets snap to the shape of his wrist. 

“It’s useless,” He commented. 

You simply rolled your eyes as you tossed the rest of the bracelets into the “donate” box. “You had to be there to get it.” You blurbed out and began to dig around once again. 

“I was trapped during the time.” Dream stated. Still, he looks at the bracelets on his wrists, snapping at one of them against his skin. 

“Right… I forgot about that,” You turn around to him apologizing to which he merely brushed off. 

The day continues as you go down a nostalgic journey of toys from your childhood. Your parent’s house required a good cleaning, but who knew you would have your heartstrings tugged at as you held onto the American Girl Dolls that your mom still kept for you. 

They went into the “keep” box.

“They hold more significance than the others,” Dream comments as he notices you carefully brushing back the hairs on one of the dolls. 

“Yeah, I used to tell them about my day while I brushed their hair when I was little. I think they know more of my secrets than anyone else in the universe,” You confessed. 

“I see.”

You continued in your sorting, stopping once to place with a noise tub for a few minutes, and then stopped again as you brought forth a metal Razor scooter. 

“Oh… my God,” You squealed, holding onto the scooter as you walked out of the garage into the summer sun. 

You readjusted the length of the handle before you started pushing yourself around on the scooter, feeling the wind blow against your hair and clothes.

Noticing Dream watching you, you decided to show off. “Watch this,” You smiled as you jumped while skating around and with a flick of your wrist, the deck swung under and around the bar before you landed on it once again. 

You skated back over to Dream, who, if you squinted hard enough, had a small look of impression on his face. 

“You try it,” You giggled, handing him the scooter. “Bet you can’t.” 

Never one to back down from a challenge, he took to the scooter. The metal where your sweaty hands had gripped is still warm as he takes over. He mimicked what you did, skating to the middle of the driveway. He jumped, he flicked his wrist, and then…

You winced, covering your eyes with your hands. You watched between your fingers as the deck of the scooter hit him straight in the ankles. You feel his pain, having felt it many times back in the day. 

Morpheus writhes as the pain shoots through him. You’ve never seen him cuss before, but you think he’s on the brink of it as the pain starts to make him spasm. 

He goes from human to a flopping fish, to a cat, to a cabbage head, to a roaring sea-faring monster, and back to human again. Each time, the Silly Bandz still wrapped around some portion of him 

You’ve since run to his side. “Are you okay?” You asked, the laugh in the back of your throat was sorely hidden as you watched the Endless lay motionless in the middle of your driveway. 

“No.” 

“Yeah, fair enough. Let’s get you some ice,” You laughed. 

While you’re gone, Dream throws the scooter into the “Donate” box with a glare.

Main Masterlist | One Shot Masterlist

[axeeglitter]

Transformation in the Night

Elliot could feel the anticipation building as he and Jake discussed the plans for the next morning. Jake was eagerly awaiting the delivery of a new off-road motorcycle, something he’d been talking about for weeks. But with an early morning meeting on the schedule, Jake wouldn’t be home to receive it. That’s why Elliot was staying over, to make sure the delivery was taken care of. But it wasn’t just about helping a friend; there was something more, something deeper that drew Elliot to Jake’s garage and the machines that filled it.

“You’re sure you’re cool with it?” Jake asked, handing Elliot a beer as they settled in for the night. “I know it’s early, and I feel bad having you handle this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Elliot replied with a smile as he took his headphones out of his ears before putting his phone on the bench next to him. “I’m happy to help. Besides, it gives me a chance to check out the bike before you do.” He added with a wink.

Jake laughed and shook his head. “Just don’t get too attached before I get back. I know how much you love these machines.”

Elliot chuckled along, but inside; he was containing his feelings for his best friend. Sure, it all started as a common passion for motorcycles they could both share together. But after a while it evolved, at least for Elliot. He started to have feelings for Jake, and every second away from him was getting more and more painful. He really had a crush on him but he couldn’t talk to his best friend about it. He was way too afraid to lose him and not being able to spend valuable time and multiple laughs with him anymore. The fear of losing not only his crush but his best friend at the same time was just way too hard to imagine. So, Elliot stood there and didn’t say a word about it.

Later that night, after Jake had gone to bed, Elliot found sleep elusive. He couldn’t find sleep knowing that he was so close and yet so far from the love of his life. He started to turn around in his empty bed and after some minutes turning back and forth between the sheets, he decided to watch some videos on his phone to find sleep. It always works. But as he turned to the bedside table to grab it, he realized it was not there. "Great, I must have forgotten it somewhere" he reminded himself. And after a couple of second remembering the day, he realized it must be still on the bench in the garage.

Unable to resist, Elliot quietly slipped out of bed and made his way to the garage. The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit space that was Jake’s workshop. The familiar smell of oil and metal filled his senses, grounding him even as his heart raced. His phone still lay forgotten on the workbench where he’d left it earlier, but as Elliot was about to grab his phone to go back to bed, his attention was drawn to a pile of mechanical parts glinting under the faint light. The parts seemed to shimmer, almost as if they were waiting for him.

Compelled by a force he didn’t fully understand, Elliot approached the heap of parts. His hand hovered over a sleek gear, feeling an inexplicable connection to it. But as he reached out, his foot slipped on a slick puddle of oil. He stumbled forward, crashing into the pile. The cold metal pressed against his skin, and suddenly, a surge of energy coursed through him, an intense, burning heat that spread rapidly through his body.

Panic seized him as his body began to change. He looked down in horror as his skin rippled, the flesh draining of color, hardening into something cold and metallic. His hands fused together, the fingers thickening and taking a black rubbery texture. The transformation climbed up his arms, bones snapping and grinding as they morphed into the front fork and trapped his fused rubber hands between them. The pain was intense, but beneath it, a dark, twisted pleasure began to take hold, a sense of satisfaction as though he was finally becoming something greater. Elliot tried to comprehend what was happening to him and to his train of thoughts, why was he thinking that? What was happening? But as was looking for answers while trying to scream for Jake to help him, his voice got shut down by an excruciating change in his torso.

His chest started to reform; Elliot’s breath grew ragged. His lungs felt heavy, the air replaced by a mechanical weight. His ribs cracked and expanded, reshaping into the rigid frame of a motorcycle. His skin split open, revealing a network of wires and cables where his organs should have been. His heart beat frantically, one last time, before being overtaken by the steady, powerful thrum of an engine deep within his chest.

His spine elongated, each vertebra fusing into a solid metal framework. His back arched, the muscles thickening and hardening into the bike’s chassis. Inside, his organs liquefied, replaced by the cold precision of machinery. The loss of his human body was terrifying, He was lost in spiraling fear as he was feeling his humanity starting to slip away from his rubber hands.

His legs twisted and contorted, the bones snapping and reshaping into shock absorbers and forks. The skin on his thighs peeled away, revealing thick, rugged tires beneath. His feet flattened, the toes merging into thick rubber treads. Every part of his lower body was consumed by the transformation, leaving nothing but the raw, mechanical power of a bike.

The searing heat surged toward his groin; an area that had remained untouched until now. Elliot gasped as he felt his manhood, once a symbol of his identity, begin to change. The flesh twisted and contorted, the sensitive skin hardening into cold, unfeeling metal. The pain and pleasure combined, overwhelming his senses as his cock stated to elongate and he felt running on the side of his torso as it grew longer and longer, colder and colder. Then he felt the tip of his cock head starting to narrow and opening up. Elliot turned his head to realize his cock was turning into the exhaustion pipe. As he tried to scream for help one more time, his voice was once again cut by the feeling of tingling in his balls as they started to grow and empty before reforming into the fuel tank. The last piece of his humanity becoming a crucial part of the machine. He turned his head one last time towards his manhood only to realize it was gone for good, and with that realization what was left of his humanity started to slip even further from him.

Elliot’s mind began to blur as his head and face stated to change into the handlebars and the control panel. The memories of who he was, of Jake, their friendship, fading away like distant echoes. His thoughts were being overwritten, replaced by the instincts and drives of the machine he was becoming. The urge to race, to feel the earth beneath his tires, to push his new body to its limits consumed him, driving out the last remnants of his human consciousness. But as the transformation neared its completion, he found himself trapped, still fully aware, still fully human within the unyielding metal frame of the bike. He could feel everything, the cold metal, the tension in the cables, the pressure in the tires, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t scream for help. His soul trapped into an inanimate object that needed a driver in order to come to life.

In a final, climactic moment, Elliot’s phone, still lying on the workbench, began to warp and twist. The screen flickered and then darkened as the circuits and wires fused into something new. The device shrank, reshaping itself into a small, metallic key. The phone, once a part of Elliot’s human life, had now become the key to his new form.

Elliot stood there for hours, stuck in the dark and trapped into this new heavy body that he couldn’t move on his own. He felt the weight of his new mechanics on his tire hands and feet, the coldness of his skin turned metallic, the dust floating in the garage landing on his ass turned leather seat. He could sense it all but yet he couldn’t do anything. His only hope was Jake when he’ll get back from work. Jake will save him; He is sure he will.

As Elliot lay there, motionless, he heard the distant sound of the garage door creaking open. Relief flooded him. Jake was coming, he would see what had happened, he would save him. But as Jake stepped into the garage, Elliot’s hope turned to horror. Jake didn’t seem to see the twisted, tragic transformation that had taken place. He didn’t see his best friend trapped inside the machine. To Jake, it was just a bike, his brand new bike, nothing more.

“Wow,” Jake murmured, approaching the motorcycle with awe. “You really are a beauty.”

Elliot tried to scream, to move, to do anything to get Jake’s attention, but his new form betrayed him. He was frozen, his mind trapped within the cold, unfeeling metal. As Jake’s hand brushed against the handlebars, a shiver of terror ran through Elliot. This was all wrong, Jake was supposed to help him, not admire the monstrous form he’d become.

Jake’s fingers found the key resting on the bench. He picked it up, admiring its weight and slick design, not knowing it had once been Elliot’s phone. Without hesitation, Jake inserted the key into the ignition. Elliot saw jake approaching at fast path towards him with the key. And suddenly he understood what Jake was about to do. Elliot started to beg in his mind. “No, please Jake no, Don't do that, no no NO NO NOOOO! N…………….” The moment it clicked into place; a jolt of energy surged through Elliot’s mind. He felt the key connect directly to his brain, a final, agonizing spark of awareness that told him this was the end as his train of thought was gone and ejected through his exhaustion pipe into a cloud of smoke that contained his humanity.

The engine roared to life beneath Jake’s hand, a powerful, deep rumble that echoed through the garage. Jake grinned, unaware of the tragedy that had just unfolded.

“Where the hell did Elliot go?” he muttered to himself, glancing around the garage. But the thought was fleeting, "Nevermind, I'm sure he went back home to recharge his phone. It's almost like he can't live without it." his attention was entirely on the bike, on the raw power thrumming beneath his touch.

With a contented sigh, Jake swung his leg over the bike and revved the engine. The machine beneath him responded eagerly, as if it were alive, as if it knew exactly what Jake wanted. And in a way, it did. As Jake rode out of the garage, the only thing left of Elliot was the bike itself, forever bound to the machine that Jake would ride, never knowing the truth.

Jake sped off down the road in the diretion of the forest, the wind whipping past him, the thrill of the ride filling him with exhilaration. The bike roared beneath him, powerful and responsive.

The road stretched out ahead, and with each mile, the memory of Elliot faded into the background of Jake’s mind, replaced by the pure, unbridled joy of the ride.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey everyone! Hope you enjoy this story. It's a first for me to publish an inanimate story, so I hope you'll appreciate this style and this theme. I wrote this story for @artificial-transmutations, if you don't know him, go check his content out. He truly is one of the best writers out here. As always, let me know what you think of this one and feel free to message me or send requests if you have any ideas that could be good stories and I'll see what I can do with them! In the meantime, take care and see you soon for more content! :)

[postersofleon]

My Ex Girlfriend Is Still Hot

Being recommended this place was good, apparently they can fix any vehicle at a cheap price, but it's not the cheapness that first attracted Leon into this place. It was seeing his ex-girlfriend covered in oil. It had been years since he had seen her, she looked older, but that that didn't reduce his love.

content: angst, fluff and smut

notes: afab fem!reader x leon, reader is divorced mom, mentions of leon's situation-ship with ada, reader is mean to leon (he kinda deserves it), fixing old relationships, baby!, leon is in love with the past, mentions of leon's unhealthy coping mechanisms. the smut is kinda fluffy. this took forever. rewriting and writing again. blah, anyways, minors, um, be care what you read. don't interact, the standard stuff, sorry. also, um, i don't know how this was. it felt rough, sorry. not prove read and... it's long

part one (here)

taglist: @argreion

He was tired. Leon couldn't deny that his 'exciting' life had bored him and broken him up. It was always issue one or issue two causing problems, but he won't think about it.

All he wanted to do now was fix his poor bike that got destroyed after his fight with Maria. His body was still sore from his body being infected, from his body being hit once again. He stepped out of Chris's truck and entered the garage to fix his favorite vehicle. A teenager was flicking through his phone; the kid was kind of covered by oil stains. Eh, he is willing to trust Claire's recommendations of fixing cars. The kid looked old enough, probably fourteen or fifteen to handle himself here.

"Um, hey." He put his hands on his jean pockets, Leon cleared his throat a bit, "I'm guessing you aren't the owner, huh?" The kid slowly looked up at Leon, he looked annoyed as hell to see him, "Duh." He put his phone back in front of his face. Leon cleared his throat again, "Well, is the owner here, kiddo?"

"Mom!" The kid yelped loudly.

Leon pursed his lips together. This kid had lungs. He heard boots approaching them, a woman appeared, "Sorry about the wait." Her hands grabbed a rag and cleaned her hands up. In that exact moment, Leon immediately recognized her- it felt like a one of those smacks he was used to. Her eyes went on the ground for a bit before looking at his eyes.

"So, how can I help you?" She put her hands on her waist. Leon swallowed his spit that was forming on the back of his throat, "Oh, I was..." What the hell? Was he returning back to his stupid roots when he was always awkward with women. He pressed his lips into a line, his mouth now felt dry as hell, "My bike... it needs to be fixed." Finally. Those poor words seemed to struggle to even pop out of his throat.

She nodded her head, "Yeah, can I see the... damage, jeez." Her eyes widen at the extent of the damage, pieces of the bike were dangling and sections of it was scrapped up and turned into a small balls of metal.

Did she recognize Leon?

Stupidly, that was he first question when she tilted her head to see the damage from bellow. She turned to see her... son. Gosh, Leon just connected the points that this kid was actually her son.

"Hey, bring me the gloves," She cleaned her already dirty hands with her black tank top, "There are on top of engine I just bought." With every word she spoke, Leon recalled how much he adored her.

The kid nodded his head and hurried to another room leaving Leon alone with you Her eyes met his, "Are you sure you wanna fix it up?" She put her hands on her waist, "Everything will have to be replaced, and..." Her eyes trailed off to the room where her kid went, "I can promise cheap, but this baby needs all whole bath on oils."

Leon nodded his head. "Yeah, it's one of my favorites."

She looked back at him, a certain similar twinkle was in her eyes, "Oh, curious, you have more?" Leon felt his heart freeze for a second, "Yeah," Leon muttered softly, "My friend, Claire made me like motorcycles." Leon knew it. He knows she recognizes him, but she making herself like she doesn't remember. Before he could comment her child came back with the gloves, she put them on and got on top of truck, she sat on the edges of the truck and moved the bike around.

"So, how much will it cost me?" Leon asked her.

"By the way you treated her, I want to say 100k, but," She jumped off, "You are lucky I have spare pieces everywhere in this shop. The engine, the clutch, the starting gear- everything got broken one way or another." She took off her gloves for a second, "So, it'll be 20 something. The bike looks from this year so it's pieces might be a little expensive or further on."

Leon nodded his head, "Y-yeah, okay."

Her kid and she got on top of the truck and carefully unloaded it to the ground. Leon swallowed, seeing her get dirty was something he never expected from her. Leon helped her down this time, her hands grabbed his arms to assure a safe fall. "It'll take a while to patch her up." She said. Leon smiled, "You do remember me." He whispered.

She rolled her eyes, "You..." She fell into his trap. Trusting his hands on her body would be a red flag to anyone, but for her... it was normal. Seventeen years without seeing each yet, his touch was normal... still normal. "I hate you, Leon Scott Kennedy." She pushed his hands off her waist. Leon tsked his tongue, "I know you do." He can't even deny it. Yet there was a nice feeling. That sense of comfort he never apparently lost.

She gave him her back, "I'll finish the motorcycle as soon as I can." She muttered softly. Leon felt his body hurt, this feeling was always so familiar. The bittersweet feeling of appreciation. Leon stepped forward without thinking, "I'm sorry." He muttered softly. She gave him the finger.

Leon clenched his jaw. "Are you married?" Leon muttered again in his low voice. "I'm sorry for touching you-"

"I'm not married, and my status shouldn't matter to you." She snapped back. Leon nodded his head. He used to not super care if married women threw themselves at him, but hearing those words made a huge pillow to the fall. Hearing her angry was something Leon barely heard from her. But that's what happens when you just leave.

Her son kept an eye on Leon now.

"Is the kid mine?" He whispered softly.

All he was met with was a witch's laugh, you couldn't stop laughing at his utter audacity. "Y, you think I would just have your child and not tell you?" You turned around, you couldn't even see him in this exact second, but it was your job now tying you to him. You could reject fixing his motorcycle. Though, that will make you weak. He left and you are still crying over the past.

"When I heard about what happened in Raccoon City, I thought you died," You licked your lips, the nerves were shaking every detail of your mind, "Not even a letter, a phone call, a fax." Your hands went towards your face and gently rubbed the veins that were slowly popping. "I waited for two years. You know, like a fucking idiot."

The shop was silent. Everyone couldn't look at each other and... once again your dumb feelings got in the way.

"Then, I find out you saved the president's daughter. That was the only damn news I got from you and it was thanks for the government." You turned around angrily. Finally, those tears began to form under your eyes, it was frustrating seeing that idiot with a smile. You only knew Raccoon City got infected, you knew they bombed it and after nothing. Maybe you were selfish. But... didn't you have that right?

Those feelings. Those damn feelings.

"What was the reason's name?" You asked softly.

Leon blinked.

"Name?"

"What was the person who stole your heart? Made you forget about the people you knew in college? The people in our town?"

Leon swallowed. Would you even understand what he went through? Seeing those mountains of dead bodies forming because he accidentally helped Ada? He wanted to help people so badly that he had forgotten the life he once lived. He was a hockey player who lived with his grandmother until she died when he was nineteen. Yet... was he even that guy anymore?

Apparently, the only person who knew him from the past was you. Only you.

"If I tell you, you won't believe me." Leon sighed, his blue eyes met yours, and a sad smile appeared in his lips. "A little girl named Sherry." He crossed his arms against his chest.

"Yeah, was that an excuse to never call for the last couple of years?" You retorted back. "Leon, you didn't leave for a couple of days or weeks. You were gone for six years until I knew you were alive and another couple of more years happened. You left for seventeen years."

All those years passed, yet Leon couldn't stop looking at you. He nearly forgot your details. Even if you are angry with him, he is happy to remember your face and your voice.

"Sorry." Apparently, that made you angry. You didn't mean to, but sometimes you didn't know how much you dealt with him.

-

You refused many times to see him as you fixed his bike, and Leon was trying to fix what he broke. He wanted to ask about your child, who just played with his phone and sometimes helps.

He wanted to ask about your old marriage.

Leon just sat down beside your son, "So, your mom-"

"Not talking to you." The kid immediately said. Leon nodded his head, "About your mom or about everything?" Leon asked politely.

"Everything."

Great. This kid is stubborn. Leon began to tap his thighs, he can try to ease up the kid and get what he wanted. What do kids think is cool? Gun? Zombies? That was Leon's life in a nutshell. "Alright, I'll tell you about me." He sighed softly. "I'm Leon Scott Kennedy. I was born in 1977, my parents died in a car crash, and I was raised by my grandma." Wow, he truly barely spoke about his past until now.

"I met your mom in high school, but I properly knew her when I went to her work." He could easily now remember how you asked for orders, and Leon mumbled a shy, "Milkshake."

"She... she wasn't my first love, but she slowly turned into my first." Leon sighed softly. He smiled. He couldn't get rid of those feelings, but that sad feeling came into his mind. She was his first love, and he nearly forgot about her.

"When I went to Raccoon City, I thought about your mom. She thinks I didn't, but I did." He muttered softly. He leaned back to the chair, "But once you see your first death, it's not even a normal death," Leon chuckled bitterly, "A zombie eating a person up. Zombies are trying to desperately kill you." He clenched his jaw as he thought about his shitty life.

"I know I should've called. I should've called her and told her I was fine, but I wanted to be a hero so badly. I volunteered to be one of their guys to be trained..." He closed his eyes. He could've just gone home. Gone back to your arms and forget, but it was too late to defend himself.

"I had a girlfriend - Ada, when I was in that life." Leon muttered softly, "I was desperately trying to search your mom in her." Poor Ada. Having to deal with his dumb issues, he caused himself.

"I got angry at her for not being her. I remember when she betrayed me, I was shocked because I knew your mother would never." He rubbed gently his wrist.

The kid turned to see Leon. It's as if Leon could feel the judgment of the kid, "I don't know what to say." The boy turned off his phone.

Leon nodded his head, "Your mom is allowed to hate me." He whispered softly, "I fell in love with another woman that wasn't her yet I begged her to be... her." Leon rubbed his mouth firmly. He wanted to shut the hell up. He didn't want this kid to actually have a valid reason to hate him.

"Don't be like me, kid." Leon muttered softly.

"Wasn't planning on it."

He heard footsteps and saw a guy with silver hair, "Um, hi." Leon crossed his legs. The kid groaned. Before Leon could wonder why your kid would groan at him, the kid muttered the word, "Dad, what are you doing here?"

What? This is the guy you married?

"Don't give me that look, it's the weekend, it's time for you to be with your dad."

Your son stood up. "I'll tell mom-" Before your son could mutter another word, you were already near the door. "Yeah," You forced a smile, "Don't worry about me, kiddo. Just go with dad. You have fun with him." You kissed your son's cheek. The son stood up straight and went outside with his father. Leon and you were only in your shop.

He sighed and you groaned.

"I didn't say anything." Leon defended himself. You turned to see him, "I know, I know your little mind is trying to figure out my life." You turned away from Leon and looked as your child left with his father. Your hands fumbled nervously to your pants' pockets, "The bike is almost done." You whispered softly.

Leon swallowed weakly, "T-that's good."

A small pregnant pause made the two think your life's. Thinking it through in all those picky details that you once not thought about. You are happy with your life, yet you wondered what would've happened if Leon stayed. Leon wasn't happy, but he accepted those details. He thought about him probably being the divorced husband. It was a bitter thought. You deserved a person who would stay with you. Not an unstable guy who was a functional alcoholic until now.

Leon stood up silently and looked at you.

You saw him.

"I'm sorry for leaving." He whispered softly.

"For fuck's sake," You laughed bitterly feeling all those same emotions, "I doubt you missed me, but I missed you." Leon's hands cupped your face, he didn't mind the oils or anything anymore. Sure, his ex girlfriend is still hot, but she looked so beautiful right now.

"I wished I did miss you, but I know I would've been worse." Leon muttered softly. He couldn't even imagine him living his life. He already hated his shitty life and remembering he failed you. But... he still did fail you.

Leon's eyes soften, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He leaned to finish the gap and kissed you. The kiss felt desperate from the two of you. You held him tightly as his lips moved against yours, very politely put his tongue between you two. You slowly pulled away from the kiss; the small feeling of feeling pathetic grew. So many years away from each other, yet his hands belong in your hips.

"I'm dirty." You whispered softly.

His heart clenched. He felt so stupid loving you even more with that simple mutter. "A date." Leon held your hands with his. "I need a date with you. Just you and me."

You couldn't help but laugh a bit.

Was it bad that nothing really changed between you two?

-

The date was in your house. You doubt this date will grow into a relationship, and it would be foolish if it did. Leon was still wearing a normal jacket and shirt underneath it. You prepared food and you two ate. He asked about your child, you answered, but you couldn't ask him about his life outside of you. He didn't want to make you know.

You washed the dirty dishes as Leon looked at you.

What if...

A married couple just enjoying time with each other, holding and appreciating each other. Leon sighed softly, "I love you." He whispered softly. "Thanks." You laughed softly. Your hands felt nervous, trembling a bit as they grabbed the rag to dry up the dishes. You had a question and you hoped he'll answer it.

"Who is Ada?"

Leon's breathing stopped, "Ada?" You heard his conversation with your kid. Your eyes fell down, "Was she important?"

He didn't like the next words coming to his mouth, "Yes, she was." Leon won't lie about that. Ada was the most normal thing in his life. Ada was more in his life than you ever were. You temporarily closed your eyes and felt the small buzzing feeling in your heart.

"I was truly stupid one, huh? Waiting for you." You turned to see Leon.

Leon looked down at his lap. He didn't know how to comfort you, and it felt like a horrible task.

The last time he saw you came into his mind.

You were kissing him repeatedly, and less than twenty-four hours, Ada Wong kissed him, and he couldn't say anything. It wasn't his fault for failing you there. But what came after... it was his fault.

"I fucked up." Leon forced himself to look at you, "I know I did, but you having your child. Having a life without me," Leon stood up, "Don't regret that." In the end, he got what he deserved. Then, for a moment, the idea of you being in Raccoon City, you dying... He would've hated himself even more.

Leon caressed your face again, "Please, I don't want you to regret your life."

"I just hate you." You mumbled pathetically.

"Then, hate me."

Leon and you looked at each other for a while. Before you can say anything else, Leon dropped to his knees and unbuttoned your jeans. "Hate me." His hands rubbed gently your thighs, the softness of your body remained, and he loved it. Being between your thighs was his heaven. He always thought of that. His tongue licked them a bit, and he gently opened your legs open and looked up at you.

Your breath was shakey for a bit before he licked your pussy. His breath and a bit of his teeth was felt, you shivered weakly, but he made the feelings grow a bit more. His hands traced your butt and went underneath your underwear to hold you tightly. His tongue slowly began to lick your folds, gently flicking his tongue in your opening.

"Leon-" Your voice was a different tone of pathetic.

Leon felt himself growing. Your taste... God, your taste... Leon looked up at you again and grasped your butt harsher.

He sucked a bit on your clit. He needed you so badly. You were his first love. You were his first everything.

His hands slowly pulled down your panties. He wanted to avoid crude language in a way. He wanted this to be romantic. He licked a line in your opening. His tongue flirted with your opening until the tip of his tongue was inside of you. You gasped weakly, "Leon..."

Your arousal made Leon grab you harsher. Holding you tightly as his tongue flicked in and out of you. Sucking your pussy and feeling safe again. Your legs almost failed you, and he grabbed you. His tongue moved a bit, sucking and licking your pussy. A small growl escaped his lip, licking your cunt was his only goal right now. You gasped weakly. You couldn't speak properly, but all Leon did was shoved himself deeper.

Your hands grabbed his hair, "Le- Leon." You gasped.

He looked at you, "I love you." Leon muttered softly before kissing you gently. He stood up and held you. "I love you." He kissed your cheek gently. Your eyes closed tightly, feeling exposed, "Can we go to my room?" You asked. Leon nodded his head, he lifted you up in ease. You kicked down your jeans and panties, you needed to remember to pick those up later. Leon walked upstairs, his eyes were focused on you and on his destination.

Slowly and gently placed you on the bed, Leon smiled at the view, "Always beautiful." He muttered softly.

Your head turned away, your cheeks were feeling that flushing sensation. All your blood was on your face with those simple words.

Leon grinned. His fingers quickly unbuttoned his jeans. His hands rubbed his cock, "Do, do you have a condom?" Leon asked softly. You shook your head, you haven't had a one night stand for so long that you didn't have the things ready.

He pouted, "Guess we are doing the college route." The quick fuck and the slip it out.

Leon slid down his boxers, his hands grabbed his cock, "I got better with the pull out." He promised you.

"Sure." You couldn't help but chuckle.

He pressed the tip of his cock on your folds. Leon bit on his lower lip and rubbed his pre cum around your clit. You whined, "L-Leon..." Leon growled softly, "Missed my pretty girl." His cock moved around your folds until he pressed it against your clit. The pre cum was spilling pathetically, Leon's free hand grabbed your hip that kept twitching.

Begging.

Slowly, the tip of his cock opened you up. Your hole was ready for him, he pushed himself deep and deep. Slow and gentle for you.

It had been a while since you slept with someone. Your hands patted your bed and grabbed your covers, "Fuck." Even your voice was pathetic. A pathetic whine that made Leon growl, he pushed his hips until all of him was in you. Your warmth made him want to cum. "I love you." Leon whispered softly.

He began to move, his hips moved away and in; Leon leaned close to you and gasped his air into your lips. His hands caressed your thighs and forced them a bit more open, Leon wanted you.

Leon was never meant to be a rough lover. His stupid life made his mind think everything was cruel, but your whines made him want him to nicer. Leon's eyes met yours. His hips moved faster. Those small facial reactions, your eyes wanting to close and the way your nose twitched a bit.

His hands gently folded your legs against your stomach.

Those small sexual noises were small plops. His hand grabbed your face and caressed your cheeks and neck. He was gone for so long and...

"Why- why are you crying?" You asked.

Leon didn't even notice it. He smiled, "I, I d-don't know." His hand traveled down your hips and caressed your stomach. The new and old details of your skin just made him miss you despite having you close.

Your hands caressed his cheeks and pulled him close. Those gentle kisses were he can melt and turn into nothing. His thrusts turned faster now, he sucked your bottom lip and pulled away. "I need you." Leon muttered weakly. His hands grabbed your hips and thrusted faster. You grabbed the back of his head, "I need you too." You agreed with his words.

Was it lust? Was it the painful feeling of being separated away?

This felt odd. Even the sex you once shared with each other never felt this desperate.

He wasn't going to pull out. His empty promise showed more as he growled weakly, "I have to..." Leon looked at you again and kissed you. His tongue entered your mouth, he licked evert detail... begging. Needing.

Leon groaned and finally came. You hissed softly as you finished as well. He didn't know what else to do but hug you. He didn't want to leave anymore.

[bettyfrommars]

out on the highway

older!Eddie x reader

this is a mid-2000's little blurb where Eddie is in his late 30's/early 40's and ends up in Oregon for whatever reason. maybe this is even drifter!eddie. there are so many isolated gas stations and mechanic garages where I am, I think about this every time I am on the road.

wc: 770

It was a dark and foggy November night when you pulled over to the first gas station for 50 miles on your long trek to the Pacific Northwest. Only a sliver of a moon in the sky and very few visible stars, most of them obscured by bully clouds. 

The two pumps under a metal awning were well-lit, as were the modest mechanic garage and mini mart connected to it, but the rest of the surrounding land was nothing but agriculture fields with no other sign of human life to be found.  

Perhaps you’d watched too many horror movies and episodes of Forensic Files, but this place gave you the creeps bad enough to make you wonder if it might be better to chance your luck and see how far you could get on fumes.  

You opened your door a crack, enough to stick the toe of your foot out, and a song from the newest Arcade Fire album Funeral blared from your speakers, just before you turned the ignition off.  You were about to get out and pump your own gas, because that was what you were used to—but then there stood a person, mere feet away, and you sank back, ready to slam your door, feeling suddenly threatened.  

The person in question was a man in light blue coveralls, with the added warmth of a leather jacket and black, fingerless gloves.  He had dark, wavy hair, just long enough to tuck behind his ears with two silver hoop piercings in one lobe, and there was some type of tattoo design peeking out of his collar on his throat.  His eyes were dark brown and kind, and you couldn’t help but notice the thin scar that pulled down the skin of one eye and made it droop slightly.

It took you an extra second to realize he had a cat with him.  The orange and brown calico teenager was perched on his shoulder and he steadied it with one hand to keep the feline secure while the tail swished behind.  The hand that held the cat was slashed in white scars, decorated in chunky, silver rings, and the fingernails had chipped black polish on them.  

He stopped abruptly, not wanting to scare you, not when that eastern side of the state had too many similarities to the scene of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  

“Sorry, hi, I’m Eddie,” he opened the palm of his free hand and spread his fingers out in a bit of a Spock greeting to let you know he was safe.  “And this is Yvette,” he added, gesturing to the calico cat that he gently lowered to the ground.  You both watched her sprint off to the garage and through a tiny door that had been cut in the sheet metal.

“Regular or super?” He asked, clicking the pump handle off the port before you could get out and do it yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind—-” you were about to step down to do it yourself.

But then he chuckled softly, realization dawning.  “You can’t pump your own gas in Oregon,” he let you know in a patient voice, avoiding your eyes.  “I have to do it.  It’s the law," and at that last bit, he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, of course,” you gave a ‘silly me’ laugh and crawled back in behind the wheel to shut the door before rolling the window down.  You gave him 20 bucks, and then you watched him from the side mirror as he stood there making sure you got what you paid for.  He was humming a song; one you couldn't place.  

“So,” you spoke up, sticking your head out of the window.  “How long have you lived here?”

He worked his jaw as he checked the rolling numbers on the gas tank, tucking a hair that escaped to his cheek, still never looking directly at you.  “I’ve been here a while,” he said, vaguely.

You stared at your steering wheel for a bit, until you heard the pump click to let him know your tank was full.  

“Thank you,” you said out the window.  He cleared his throat and said a gentle, “you’re welcome”, as he twirled your gas cap closed and snapped the shield into place.  You watched him head back into the garage, with several cats circling his feet.    

You spent the next several miles on the desolate road wondering about Eddie, why he looked so familiar, and how he’d ended up in such a po-dunk town.  You wondered about him until you were sleepy and had to pull over at a roadside motel to get some rest.  

You weren’t very far from the gas station, and you wondered if he would still be there in the morning. 

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I live in Bergen County, NJ, however, I only went to Demarest a couple times in HS for football games, where this home is located. It's an ordinary looking 1977 home, 4bds, 2ba. Surprisingly, it was priced at $1.04M and was reduced to $999K. Why is it so pricey? Gold. Most of the rooms have either gold or marble. Check it out.

Built and designed by its owner, the house has custom woodwork and features a touch of gold in nearly every room. It's on the cabinetry, light fixtures, door handles, fireplace, and along the walls — also in both the artistry of the wood and the marble walls and floors.

I guess it's b/c of the photos, but I can't tell which is wood and which is gold. Are those gold strips on the fireplace or wood? I think wood.

It's surprising that such an elegant home doesn't have a formal dining room. It does have a chandelier in the kitchen, though. Let's play Spot the Gold.

I like the big blue island and matching range hood. I see gold on the backsplash, cabinet handles and lights.

Gold stools. But, the thing is, it's not real gold. It's gold toned metal.

This is an open concept family room and kitchen.

Again, I can't tell if those strips are gold or wood. I'm gonna say that they're gold. Maybe.

In this bedroom there is no gold. The closet handles are black.

The price also includes all the marble. Marble on the floor and tub. Wow, look at the blue piece. And, check out the fancy toilet with the gold design. There's also a gold strip around the shower.

More blue marble on the wall.

This is the largest secondary bedroom. The bedrooms aren't very big in this house.

This one is very small.

By $1M home standards, the primary bedroom isn't that big, either. And, there's no marble or gold. There's a regular door to the yard.

This really isn't that big.

It does have a walk-in closet.

The en-suite is just a small shower room with marble and some gold accents. The toilet's different. I like the design b/c I hate having to clean around regular toilets with all those indents and crevices.

Small patio, nothing spectacular, but it is fenced for privacy. Standard 3,920 sq ft lot. I don't even know if there's room for a pool, if the new owner wants one.

Narrow path along the side of the house.

One car garage. I'm glad that they reduced it by $41K, but now it's $999K. Demarest's median home price is $1.7M, but

by comparison, this one is $750K. It has 4bds and 3ba.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/10-Christie-St-Demarest-NJ-07627/37869764_zpid/

[shadowdaddies]

Legs

Cassian x Reader smut

A/N: I haven't written for Cassian in so long and I know he would like AC/DC and ZZ Top, and this gif got me thinking what if it was "hold onto the handlebars?" (modern au)

Song inspo: Legs by ZZ Top

Warnings: basically pwp, motorcycle sex, oral f!receiving, light breath play, minors dni

It was another late night, your boyfriend Cassian working on his motorcycle after hours at the garage. He’d been working long hours recently, focused on his job, but tonight you would get his focus back on you.

You strolled into the garage, donning only a black leather jacket that buttoned down to your mid-thigh with matching heeled boots. Cassian didn’t hear your approach over his music, blaring as he worked on his bike. You smirked, admiring the view of him kneeling by the back wheel as you swung your leg over the side, straddling the leather seat.

You unbuttoned your dress, glancing over your shoulder to see that Cassian had now noticed your presence. Noticed was not a sufficient word - you watched as he gaped at you, standing from the ground, as he took in your outfit - dropping his tools, the metal unceremoniously clattering to the floor.

Singing along to the music he was playing, you shrugged off your “dress”, revealing the intricate red lace lingerie you had on underneath as you leaned back against the seat of the bike, hair splayed across the rear seat, one leg propped on a handle bar. You gave Cassian a dazzling smile as you stretched along the leather seat, arching your back in a way that accentuated your breasts. 

Cassian tore off his work gloves, tossing them behind as he tracked your movements with a hungry gaze. He quickly approached you, gently placing one hand on your throat to keep you in place as he straddled where your waist was positioned on the seat. He leaned down - the hand around your throat tilting your head to the side as his thumb stroked your chin - and licked a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe, biting and tugging as he ground his hips against you. 

You could feel his hard length through his jeans as he licked the shell of your ear and murmured, “to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” He tilted your head back to face him, tracing his thumb down the hollow of your throat towards your chest, a predator playing with his prey. You gasped, rolling your hips up into him as you breathed out, “you’ve been so busy lately, Cass. I was concerned you were finding your work more interesting than me.” 

Cassian’s expression changed entirely at your words, a gentleness in his eyes as he took your face in his hands. “My love, you are more important to me than anything. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you aren’t.” He kissed you deeply, his tongue flicking against your lip as a request for entrance which you granted. He rolled his tongue against you in pace with his hips, pulling away to press a kiss to your forehead. Cassian smirked at you, “let me take care of you.” He stood up, moving off of the bike as he helped you sit up. You moved to get off of the bike, but Cass shook his head, and with a feral grin, nodded towards the front of the bike. “Hold onto the handlebars.”

You obeyed, sitting on the motorcycle just as you would if you were driving it, only for Cassian to walk around behind you and grab your hips. He pulled you up into a standing position, directing you to stay standing as he pushed your chest down against the bike. You were now standing there - clad in your lingerie and boots as you straddled the bike, ass in the air while you held the handlebars for support. 

“Fuck,” you heard Cassian breathe as he stood behind you, massaging your ass and landing a smack to your cheek that caused you to yelp. He chuckled at your sensitivity, continuing to admire your ass and legs while he ran his hands down them. You gripped the handlebars as he snapped the waistband of your panties, biting your lip to stifle your moan while you wiggled your hips in a silent request for more. 

Cassian obliged, running his finger along your center. “Fuck, angel, I can feel how wet you are through your panties.” You moaned, keening into his touch as you begged for more. Cassian ripped your panties off, your protests silenced when you felt Cassian’s broad hands holding your thighs as he licked a broad stripe up your core. He groaned at the taste, diving in as he thrust his tongue inside of you, swirling and licking your core before moving to suck hard on your clit. You moaned loudly, writhing against him as you struggled to keep your hold on the bars for stability. 

You felt Cassian straddle the bike behind you, keeping it from shaking as he doubled his efforts, curling a long finger inside of you as he sucked and licked your clit with his wicked tongue. You moaned out his name, earning a groan and another smack to your ass as he added another finger. That sent you over the edge, vision blurring as you chanted Cassian’s name, one of his hands moving to support your hips as your shaky legs gave out beneath you. 

Cassian moved your hips forward, coming to sit behind you on the motorcycle as he held you to his chest, your head lolling back to rest against him while you caught your breath. Cassian kissed your temple, stroking your hair as he smirked against your skin. “I hope you can catch your breath, sweetheart. I haven’t even taken you for a real ride yet.”

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 20)

Word count: 28.0k

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

Warnings: Alcohol, Cursing, Dramatic Themes. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Name Calling, Angst Including: Nightmares, Infidelity, Manipulation, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Toxic Themes, Arguments, Yelling, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Fighting, Extreme Portrayal of Sadness, Crying, Cheating on Partner, Abandonment, Heartbreak.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

JAKE POV

You toss the two metal suitcases haphazardly into the back of your Jeep, slamming the trunk door shut and rolling your eyes as you curse yourself for insisting on matching suitcases. You walk around to the driver's side to find Y/N buckled into the passenger seat, twisting her fingers together as she stares out the side window deep in her thoughts. 

You twist the key in the ignition and hear the engine roar to life as you step back out to say goodbye to the others. Y/N makes no moves to exit the car or say goodbye to anyone. She’s hardly spoken at all since this morning, and for that you were grateful. You couldn’t think of a single word she could possibly say that wouldn’t boil your blood.

You shut the door and walk over to Josh’s car, watching him load his own bags into his trunk.

“You outta here?” he asks.

“Yeah, see you in a few days?” you ask.

“You good to drive? You were pretty fucked up this morning…” he says, raising an eyebrow to you as he ponders back to the state he found you in. Drunk and alone at the bar at 7:00am.

“Yeah, just drank too much last night. Needed a little hair of the dog.” you lie, hoping he will buy it enough to just let it go.

“Right. Well, tell Y/N I’ll call her soon about next week.” he says, gesturing to the car.

You turn towards the car and scoff, nearly forgetting she was hired on.

“Yeah. Right. Well, see ya.” you say, smacking his shoulder and heading back to the car. 

“Later!” Danny yells from across the parking garage, helping Sam and Elle load their things into his car.

You lift two fingers towards him and nod your head as you pull the handle on the door. Sliding into the seat, you pull your phone from your pocket and turn on a playlist so loud, she has no choice but to remain silent for the entirety of the drive.

As you sit in traffic on the interstate you tap your fingers against the steering wheel. The sky is turning dark now, and your day of travel is wearing on you heavily. Couple that with your night last night and you’re ready to lock yourself away for a few days with little to no contact from the outside world.

As you stepped into the elevator this morning you weighed your options. Go to Josh’s room and be forced to tell him everything, or go to the bar and drink until you felt nothing. With the second option sounding better you found yourself slung back into the black vinyl chair of the lobby bar with a never ending lowball glass of Johnnie Walker.

As your brain started to slip back into that fuzzy state where real life didn’t exist, you started to scroll through pictures on your phone, reminiscing about the girl you thought you knew while shitty club music played in the background. 

After your third glass you felt a hand on your shoulder, and turned to find Josh stepping up behind you already speaking to the bartender.

“Hey man, can we close out?” he asks, sliding a card across the bartop.

“What the fuck are you doing Jake? Why are you in here? Where the fuck is Y/N? We have to get to the airport like, fucking now…”

“Dunno…don’t care…” you slur, attempting to stand from the barstool for the first time in what had to be hours. “Gotta piss…” you grumble.

“Where’s your shit? Are you packed? Please tell me you’re fucking packed.” he begs.

You spin your head around towards the doorway, pointing at your metal suitcase.

“Thank fuck.” he breathes, pulling you out the door, and grabbing your suitcase.

The next thing you knew you were falling into your seat on the plane, ordering another round. You had to. There was no way you could bear to spend five hours on a plane sitting next to her. You could hardly look at her. You tossed back the entirety of your drink before the plane even began to taxi the runway. Your eyelids felt heavy and you slumped down into your seat, resting your head on the window paying no mind to the woman sitting next to you. 

As the plane started to take off, you caught yourself instinctually reaching for her hand, but even in your drunken state you remembered what she’d done to you. To both of you. You pulled your hand into your lap, scrolling on your phone and pretending not to notice her fidgeting and white knuckle grip on the arm rest as the plane gained altitude. Serves her right. Where’s Sam now?

You must have fallen asleep shortly after your second drink, because the next thing you remember was Danny saying your name and shaking your shoulder, telling you to grab your shit. As you woke up fully and noticed her gone, you almost felt a sense of relief. That was, until you remembered she would be coming home with you. 

The alcohol had dissipated from your system enough that your mind was clear, but your body felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Maybe you had, it would have surely been less painful than the past twenty-four hours.

So here you found yourself, stuck on I-24 nursing a massive hangover desperate to be home in your bed and completely unsure and quite frankly, unbothered by your silent passenger, and her plans.

You turn your head to catch a glance at her, for what reason you don’t know, and even in the dark of the car’s cabin you can see her watery eyes and puffy face. If your anger weren’t so present in the forefront of your mind you might almost feel bad for her spending her day in this state. But it is, and you don’t, as you continue the trek back home.

—

You unload the bags from the trunk and lock the car, as you both make your way up the sidewalk and to the front door. She stands several feet away from you as you unlock the door, squeaking slightly as it swings open. 

You roll your suitcase straight into the bedroom, and shut the door behind you. You hear her stop at the door and her breathing hitch, as she rolls her suitcase to the guest room and quietly shuts the door. 

You kick off your shoes and fall back onto your bed, holding your hands over your face as you let yourself wallow for a few minutes. How did you end up back here? Back to feeling like shit over a woman?

You pull yourself up from the bed and strip down, desperate for a shower. Bathing away last night's mistakes and today's reminders your stomach growls, alerting you to the fact that you hadn’t eaten since the pretzels on the plane. 

Pulling on a pair of sweats you quickly run your fingers through your wet hair, and quietly step out of the bedroom. You pad down the hallway to the kitchen, and look through the pantry at what quick options you have to choose from, gathering a few things and making your way to the stove.

A few minutes later you find yourself pulling two bowls from the cabinet, out of pure instinct, setting them on the counter to fill them with the makeshift dinner you’d made. Instead you fill only one bowl, and grab one fork, pulling the last corona from the fridge before making your way to your bedroom and shutting the door.

Turning on the TV you scroll through endless options, not even letting your eyes glance at the show the two of you had been watching together, instead trying to find something you know she'd hate just to spite her. 

Choosing the first thing to pique your interest, you settled back into your headboard, and started to eat the quick pasta you were able to manage in your hungover state.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you look over at it, swallowing heavily as you see her name light up the screen.

You set down your food and grab your phone, sliding across the screen to open her message.

LD

8:04 pm: Can we talk?

No. You lock your phone and toss it onto the bed returning your attention back to your dinner and your show. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that wants to reply to her, but you push it away.

Bzz. Bzz.

With a huff you pick up the phone again seeing a second message from her. Instead of opening it you pull up her contact making a few changes before pressing done. You change your phone background from a photo of her to a default image, sending a stabbing feeling straight through your chest. You then scroll to your texts and swallow as you see her name as it truly is for the first time.

Y/N

8:40 pm: Can you please just say something?

Your heart twists in your chest as you read it, knowing she is hurting just as bad as you are. But again you remind yourself, neither of you would be here if she hadn’t slept with your brother.

You throw your phone to the bed again, leaving her on read as you grab your bowl and empty beer and make your way back to the kitchen to clean up. As you step up to the sink you notice the bowl and food you left for her still untouched and sigh. She hasn’t even left the room…

You place the pasta into the bowl and put it in the fridge, cleaning up the rest and returning to your bedroom. The bed is cold and empty without her, the sheets still faintly smelling of her, and her things scattered around. You would make sure to collect everything tomorrow and put it in the guest room. 

You turned off the light and grabbed your phone, clicking on your thread with her and deciding to send her a reply.

You

9:13pm: There’s leftovers in the fridge.

Y/N

9:14pm: Jake…Please talk to me. 

Y/N

9:15pm: I’m so sorry. 

Y/N

9:15pm: There’s no way you can hate me more than I hate myself right now. 

You

9:16pm: I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N.

Y/N

9:17pm: Nothing? Just like that? That’s it?

You

9:18pm: That’s it.

—

HER POV

You place your phone on the nightstand by the bed as you swipe away the tears on your cheeks with the sleeve of Jake’s flannel shirt wrapped around you. You swallow back the remainder of the tears, dragging yourself to the kitchen to try to rehydrate. 

As you open the fridge you see the bowl of food graciously placed there for you by the man who should have left you in the hotel room in Vegas and never looked back. That’s what you deserved, and he almost did. That being the last time the two of you spoke.

Pulling the bowl from the microwave you stared at it. You could barely bring yourself to eat it, you were so full of guilt. It was consuming you, mind, body and soul. You made the ultimate mistake. Done something you could never take back. Lost the love of your life and made irreparable damage to your relationship.

After forcing yourself to eat through your tears, you went back into the guest room, burrowing yourself under the sheets and pretending you were anywhere but here. 

—

Your eyes open as you hear the front door shut, turning to look at the clock. 7:47am. What the hell is he doing up so early?

You grab your phone, and flip through your notifications, rolling out of bed and making your way to the bathroom. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth, still utterly disgusted with what you’ve done. You probably wouldn’t talk to you either if you were Jake. 

Dragging yourself to the kitchen, you find the coffee pot empty, but Jake’s used mug in the sink. Okay, you deserve that. You start a new pot and while you wait you put away the clean dishes; the remnants of the days before Vegas when the two of you danced in the kitchen to Sam Cooke. You swallow harshly as you close the dishwasher, hearing the coffee pot finish it brew and pouring the hot liquid into his favorite mug.

—

You spent most of the day collecting your things from around the house, gathering them all into the guest room in neat little piles as you tried to fit them into the few boxes you could find around the house. You knew things were beyond repair, and removing yourself from his orbit would be better than waiting for him to ask you to leave. You weren’t sure you would even be able to hear that. 

You did laundry, yours and his, but the hardest and worst thing you did today, came in the form of a tattered old flannel, once loved and cherished. Hugging it to your face one last time, you placed it on the edge of his bed, and returned to your packing. The real indication that things were over.

The sun had set and rain started to patter at the window of the guest room, a soft drizzle with the occasional thunder clap lighting the sky. The room was lit only by the dim yellow light of the lamp, and a candle flickering on the bedside table. Soft music was playing from your phone on the dresser as you folded clothes into cardboard boxes. 

The sound of the front door opening grabbed your attention, and you took a deep breath knowing he was back home. You heard him kick off his shoes by the door and the soft padding of his feet on the hardwood floors. A sound you knew you’d miss, stabbing you straight through the heart.

The door was open and you heard the sound grow closer as he made his way to the kitchen. You kept your head down and focused on your task as he walked past the door. Your eyes filled with tears at just the brief glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye. You shook your head to clear your mind, and stood up from the floor. You walked to the edge of the bed, grabbing an armful of things and returning to your spot on the floor. You heard him walk back down the hallway and into his bedroom, before you heard his footfall once again.

With your back turned to the door, it came as a shock when you heard his voice as he stood in the doorway.

“What are you doing? Are you giving this back?” he asks, voice full of anger as he holds the flannel in his fist.

You took a deep breath as you turned to look at him, leaning against the doorway, his hair still wet from the rain as he twisted the fabric between his fingers, “It’s not mine anymore. It belongs to you…” you pause, “I think I have all of my things together. I won’t be much longer, I’m almost done.” you answer defeatedly.

“And you’re gonna go where…” he said, condescendingly as he furrowed his brow.

You hadn’t exactly thought about it. Maybe you’d call a friend. Get a hotel for a few days until tour started. Tour. Are you even still employed? 

“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out, I guess.” you answer, blinking back tears.

It’s quiet for a minute between the two of you, the tension so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. He lets out a long exhale through his nose and takes a pull from the beer in his hand, as he stares at the rain streaks on the window, “Don’t… worry about it right now. Just deal with it when we get back from tour. We’ve got too much shit going on to try and worry about this too.” 

What?

Your eyes flick to his, meeting them for just a second. In that second you're sure you saw a flash of the same pain you’d been feeling at the thought of moving out. 

“It’s no big deal Jake. I know you don’t want me here. It’s not your problem to deal with, it’s mine.” you say. 

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth stifling back what you knew he really wanted to say. He pursed his lips together and looked over at you again, “Deal with it after, Y/N.” 

Heat rises to your face as he looks at you and you keep your gaze trained on him as he turns to step out of the doorway. 

“I’m leaving in the morning. Make sure you lock up the house well when you leave for tour. Set the alarm, all that.” He says standing in the doorway. 

You want to ask him where he’s going. You want to know why and with who, but he doesn’t owe you that anymore. You’re lucky he even told you in the first place. This was how it was going to be now and you had no choice but to accept it. 

“You won’t be back? Be-Before tour starts?” You ask, the words spilling from your mouth as soon as you realized what he was saying. 

“No.” He says finally, stepping away with the shirt in hand. 

—

It’d been three days since Jake walked out the front door, two suitcases in hand and a backpack filled to the brim on his back. He’d loaded up his car the night before, carefully piling the guitar cases into the backseat and stuffing his other bags around them. You hadn’t spoken the night before he left, only stood in the doorway of the house, silently making your presence known in case he would need a hand. 

“Can I help you carry anything?” you’d asked as he brushed past you on the porch, the chill in the air shooting straight through your thin shirt. 

“No, thanks.” was all you received. “I’ll get the rest in the morning.” Flat. Blank. And quiet.

He hadn’t noticed, or at least he hadn’t said anything, but you’d spent the past couple of days doing his laundry for him while he’d be gone. Just like normal, you took specific care to separate his whites from his darks, and only dried the certain things he liked dried. The rest you hung lovingly on the laundry room hooks, letting the vent air dry them naturally. A task you once thought was just part of daily life, something so menial and mindless, now felt like a shot through the heart. Your one last way of taking care of him, one last good deed that you knew meant absolutely nothing to him now.

You breathed in the smell of his shirt, worn-in and soft, a few holes forming along the collar. It still smelled just like him, just like his favorite cologne, just like his natural scent. You committed it to memory, stashing it away forever, not knowing when you’d ever be met with it again. 

Three days you’d been alone, the sounds of the house settling, like explosions. It was quiet and rainy and you were missing the sweet familiar comfort of his bed. You suddenly found yourself wrapped in your favorite sheets and covered with the warmth of the duvet cover that smelled just like him. You’d tried to distract yourself by starting a new show, but when the TV powered on and showed the screen still paused right in the middle of a documentary he was watching, you felt a sick feeling you’d never felt before. It was like he was gone forever, his life still happening around him in his absence. So you watched the rest of it, and cried. And cried. 

None of it helped, the distractions were only a diversion from the real world, the thoughts of Jake coming back like a flood to your mind every few minutes. The guilt. The memory of the stairwell. The look on his face when he found out. You had made yourself utterly ill. 

On day four, you drug yourself out of bed, forcing yourself to shower after days of simply being too down to even move from the bed. After giving yourself the care you so needed, you stepped from the shower on auto-pilot, drying your hair and dressing yourself for another day of nothing.

For the first time in days, your phone buzzed on the sink. You glanced quickly, shocked to see that it even still had any battery charge.

Josh.

Josh:

10:37am: Hey there, care to chat a little bit later today about some details for tour? I know it's late in the game, but you don’t need much coaching.

The smallest smile reached across your face, simply from having contact from someone. He must not know. Has he even talked to Jake? Does he know where he is?

You

10:39am: Absolutely. Just tell me when!

Josh:

10:41am: I’ll call you in an hour. 

Confusion filled your body at the thought of Josh maybe not knowing what had happened. You knew that if he did, his words probably wouldn’t be as friendly as they were right now. You decided to play dumb for the time being. 

After a slightly awkward and mainly professional phone conversation with Josh about your new duties, you decided that maybe this tour wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe you could do this. Keep it professional. Drown yourself in your work, find things to completely submerge your attention in. But then you laughed to yourself. Easier said than done.

The afternoon was spent cleaning out the refrigerator of perishable items, and doing last minute things to lock up the house for the remainder of the winter months. You cleaned, you mopped, you dusted…every single inch of the house was spotless. You scrubbed the bathrooms down, washed all of the bedsheets and blankets, and took your time in shining the hard wood floors. 

You let your legs carry you up the creaky stairs, broom and cleaning products in hand. You rounded the corner to the loft, the soft evening light just barely peeking through the window above the desk, illuminating the makeshift art studio you’d created for him months ago. He’d been here, he’d used it. At some point recently, he’d broken in the pencils, sharpened them by hand with a blade, and had begun to fill the pages of the leather bound sketch book you’d gotten him. You felt like you were intruding on his personal space, and lurking in a place that wasn’t meant for your eyes, but you proceeded anyway, something urging you to flip through the already wrinkled pages. 

Doodles and words filled the thick paper, tiny sentences that didn’t make much sense yet…drawings of trees and scenes, little faceless people standing in lines holding guitars and instruments…unfinished poems that didn’t rhyme… all of it was dripping off the sides of the pages, pens scattered about the desk, the space already heavy with the essence of him and his brilliant mind. 

You felt a heavy pang in your chest as you continued flipping through, letting yourself have one last time to feel him when he wasn’t there. Finally, you got to a page you weren’t expecting. You turned the book sideways, taking in the image that at first, seemed like just a mess of lines and curves. 

It was you, your unclothed body posed on his vintage couch that sat across the room, sketched nearly perfectly from memory, with charcoal. All those nights ago, back when things were good, you were happy and so in love you couldn’t stand it, you’d walked him up the stairs covering his eyes, ready to surprise him with his gift. 

“Draw me like one of your French girls…”

“I can try, but I’ve never been good at charcoal…”

“Well, practice makes perfect, right?”

You glanced around the table again, noticing the tiny black pieces of chalk-like material dusted all over the desk. Your fingers lightly traced over the messy drawing, the details ratted, but there. A tiny dark line signifying your daisy necklace that he’d gotten you for your birthday, the length of your hair perfect for that point in time. Your hand draped perfectly over the back of your leg, and the features of your face drawn lightly and with near perfection. 

He’d drawn you from memory. The edges of the paper were stained with his fingerprints where he had lightly placed his nondominant hand in the charcoal dust while he concentrated. The swipes of his fingers in the leftover dust leaving behind a trail of light gray smudge. There was an open window in the drawing behind you, and he’d drawn a perfect rendition of the Little Dipper in the night sky, surrounded by hundreds of tiny dots representing stars. And there, perfectly in the corner, the date, and his signature. 

The tears came uncontrollably, falling from your face as your hand slowly found your mouth to muffle the sobs. What had you done? What had you thrown away? And for what? You couldn’t even bring yourself to think about Sam, or Elle, for that matter. You’d gotten yourself into a terrible disaster, and you had no clue how to even begin to fix it. 

You dried up the tears that were falling from your eyes, trying to collect yourself for the umpteenth time this week. You begrudgingly grabbed the broom and mop, ready to drown yourself in cleaning again, as you noticed the door to the old storage closet was left cracked open. Might as well clean in there too. You pulled the squeaky old door open, tossing your hand around to catch the chain to turn the old overhead light bulb on. 

Met with tons of stacked boxes and totes, clothes and blankets and odds and ends strewn about, your first reaction was to clean it all and straighten the mess. But as you began to sort through it all, you accidentally knocked a small box from the top of a pile, and the sound it made when it hit almost made you jump out of your skin. Guitar strum. You bent down to pick up the box, and apparently the old guitar he had, for some reason, stashed up here. What you found wasn’t at all what you expected. His acoustic, his first guitar, his most prized possession covered in tiny carvings of your memory, thrown into the old storage closet to collect dust. 

And you thought finding the drawing was bad…

The sobs that came again were the kind that ripped your chest in two, the kind that made you feel like a shell of a person…you fell to your knees and then to a seated position, holding your head in your hands as you let the pain rip through you in giant currents. Was this how he felt when you left him?

You sat there for an unknown amount of time, going through the motions of collecting yourself, once again. Your subconscious went into high gear, your brain telling you to protect yourself, that everything was going to be okay. But you knew it wasn’t. 

After cleaning as much as you could, you decided that it was time to feed yourself and settle in for the night. You decided to do one thing, though, before you shut the loft door behind you for good. You sat at his studio desk, and found the page with your drawing. You flipped it to the other side, and began writing Jake a note on the back. You poured your heart into it, everything you ever wanted to say to him, everything you already had said, and everything you could never bring yourself to admit. You laid it all out…your hopes and dreams with him, everything that you loved about him, and how totally and entirely sorry you were. The words would mean nothing, but at least he would have them.

You ran downstairs and found the red notebook that he’d given you for Christmas, full of his writings and notes and lyrics for you, and placed it gently on the small table in his study. You ran back into the kitchen, and plucked a single daisy flower from a bouquet he’d recently gotten you, already turning brown and drying out from lack of water. You peeled off every single petal except one, and you laid it right on top of the notebook. One last goodbye. One last ‘she loves you’. 

The house was clean now, every inch and nook and cranny was free of any dirt, and any memory of you. You owed him that much, at least, leaving him the clean slate you knew he’d want to return back home to.

Fuck. 

The home he loved. The home he had made his, the one he filled with everything that was him, leaving plenty of extra space for everything that was you, now nothing but empty shelves and blank spaces. He’d chosen this house with you in mind, thinking and praying that one day you’d be the one permanently there to help him fill it with love. Be the one he came home to every day, sharing the duties of taking care of a home together. And you were, until you threw it all in the trash. 

Your mind was going insane with horrendous thoughts and crippling guilt still; you wandered around the house until it began to get dark outside, trying to listen to music and think other thoughts, when all every song did was remind you of him. You cranked the surround speaker to its loudest volume, and filled the house with his favorite songs. It only felt right. 

After feeding yourself nothing but enough to survive, and finishing off the bottle of wine you’d opened a few nights ago, you curled up in bed, ready for the wine buzz to take you away. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep when you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Your eyes popped open to find the lights still on and the TV picture still rolling. You shook away the sleep, looking over to your phone as it gently scooted across the table as it vibrated. 

Shit. It’s Jake. Your heart fell and shattered, a million thoughts racing through your mind in the span of three seconds. 

You grabbed the phone, sliding his contact and bringing it to your ear. 

“Hello?” You shook out. 

“Hey, were you asleep?” He said quickly. 

“Uh, yeah…but not for long. What’s up?” You asked, noticing a slight sound of panic in his voice. 

“Um. I’ve got some…bad news…I guess. I talked to Jocelyn from the office earlier. It looks like Andy was released from jail yesterday.” He went on, trying to stay strong in his words. 

“What the fuck?” You breathed out, suddenly feeling fear now, instead of anxiousness from talking to Jake finally. “How…? How did he?”

“I’m not sure, I didn’t get many details, but it looks like his charges didn’t stick? Somehow, I have no idea how they didn’t…” he went on as your head began to spin into oblivion. 

“His family. They’re beyond rich, Jake. Well known. He has uncles and cousins that work from here to Washington…tons of lawyers in the family…and they are filthy. Rich. It has to be…there’s no way…they had to have known the judge, or…something…” you blabbed, your mouth speaking before your mind could process. “Fuck.”

“Must have been. Anyway, listen, just make sure you lock everything up really well tonight, ok? Windows and all…and I talked to Josh. He’s gonna come and get you tonight, to stay at his house.” Jake said, sounding as though his words were reluctantly coming from his mouth. 

“There should be a plane ticket in your email to come to Michigan. Leaves tomorrow morning.” He went on. 

You were surprised. “Michigan? You’re home?”

“Yeah. Wanted to come see Mom and Dad before we leave. Needed to just. Leave. Anyway. Josh will be there soon.”

You took a quick deep breath. “You didn’t have to do that Jake. I’ll be fine here, you don’t need to worry abou-“

“It’s already done. He should be on the way now.” He huffed. 

“Okay, thank you Jake, really. For doing this…I really appreciate it.” You swallowed. “I hope we can…talk soon…”

“Bye, Y/N.” He interrupted, and the line was dead before you could even finish your thought. You let the phone fall from your ear as a million emotions flooded your mind. He wanted you safe. 

Clicking the little white icon to open your email, you were met with an airline ticket forwarded straight from Jake. You opened it, reading over all the information. The message at the top of the email, though, struck you straight through your heart, sending you into a puddled mess of emotions. 

‘I’ll be there when you land…’

Your heart flipped over in your chest. What did it mean? Was he being..sweet? Cordial? Civil… the thought of him picking you up at the airport tomorrow made your palms sweaty. 

You jumped from the bed, running to collect everything last minute before Josh arrived. As you packed, you thought about Andy, and how the hell he was able to get out of this one. You’d do research. But not now. 

The nerves began to creep up as you finished speed-packing…could Andy be lurking around the corner? Outside? Would he find Josh as he was coming in the door? So many thoughts running through your head at once…

—

The knock on the door startles you in your already jumpy state, but as you look through the glass you see Josh, standing on the porch with his hands in his pockets. You rush over to the door, unlocking it and letting him inside. 

He is smiling but there is a touch of something else beneath the smile. Worry maybe?

“Hi Josh, come in!” you say, swinging the door open. 

“Hey Y/N… wow, I don’t think I have ever seen this place this clean.” He says, looking around.

“Yeah, I’ve been a little busy?” you laugh.

“It shows! I’ve gotta say I was a little shocked when Jake asked me to come pick you up tonight.” he says, shutting the door behind him.

“Oh…” you say looking to the ground. “...I’m guessing he told you why…”

“Yeah, asked me to come straight here and pick you up. Cashed in a twin token.” he chuckles.

“A what?” you ask.

“A twin token. It’s a long drawn out story, which typically I love, but I’m not going to lie, I was about to go to bed, and now I just simply do not feel like explaining our 9 year old minds at 11:00pm.” he smiles.

“Another time?” you smile, probably the first smile you’ve smiled in a week.

“I promise. I guess I’m just confused on why you aren’t in Michigan with him?” he asks, nervously.

You had to think quickly as you formulated some type of believable answer, “Oh, um, I had a few things I needed to do to get ready for tour, and he wanted to go visit your parents and have some one-on-one time with them. Decided I would go up when I had everything squared away here.” you lied.

His brow furrowed, as he studied you, and then relaxed, “Oh, okay. Well, are you… ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, I just need to take these suitcases out, and lock up the place.” you answer. 

“I’ll take those, you lock up.” he says, grabbing your bags. “Oh! Hey, Jake asked me to grab his readers and send them with you. Do you know where they are?” he asks.

You swallow harshly, blinking back your emotion. He clearly has no idea what has happened. “Yes! I will grab them and meet you out there.” you say, making your way towards the bedroom.

As you open the door, you’re instantly assaulted by the smell of him woven into every fiber in the room. The bed, perfectly made, beckons to you as you remember countless nights wrapped in each other.

You pull out the drawer of his nightstand, spotting his black readers right where you thought they would be. You pick them up and put them into the case, but just as you go to shut the drawer, you also see something else that stops you dead in your tracks. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot the tiny green guitar pick sitting on top of a tattered photo of the two of you that used to live in his wallet. 

It crippled you to imagine him cleaning out his wallet and deciding that things that were once important enough to be carried with him everyday were now just clutter in a drawer of junk. A sob left your chest as you realized then, that he must have found the guitar pick in your things and decided to carry it with him again. He never mentioned it, just took it and placed it back where he knew it was safe and loved. But now was reduced to nothing as it sat in a drawer to be forgotten about.

You swallowed back your tears and shut the drawer, taking one final look around the room as you turned off the light and shut the door.

Walking around the house you double checked all the doors and turned off all the lights, closing up the home for the next few weeks. With a final scan of the room, you turned off the hallway light and set the security system, locking the front door behind you. 

You slid into the passenger seat of Josh’s Jeep and he twisted the key in the ignition, letting the car roar to life. The car smelled so different than Jakes, like new leather and clean laundry. You were sort of glad for that though, being trapped in the scent of him might send you spiraling again. 

Josh pulled out into traffic, heading towards his house, and as you looked down at your phone, reading his email for the twentieth time, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him. 

—

JAKE POV

As the line went dead you laid your phone down on your chest, staring up at the ceiling of your childhood bedroom. Fuck. You paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts before picking up the phone and forwarding her the new flight information and ticket. 

Nine hours. It took nine hours for you to tell her after you found out. Eight and a half to tell Josh. But what took the least amount of time, but the most amount of willpower, was begging him to go pick her up from the house. Cashing in a chip you have held for so long. He didn’t even know that you were in Michigan. Asking you ‘why you were there’ and ‘why you didn’t tell him’. How do you tell someone that the same girl broke your heart for the thousandth time? That you couldn’t stand to look at her because everytime you did, it broke your heart all over again?

You needed to get out of there, clear your head. Be away from her and her pull. But even from here you could feel it. Typing a quick message into the top of the email, you hit send and watched it disappear. 

When you got the call this morning, your first thought was how it was even possible he could have been released from jail. But that thought was quickly replaced with, what could happen now that he was free. The worst part was that you weren’t even there if something did happen. You tried to push the thoughts from your mind, busying yourself with other things and hanging out with your parents. But all you could think about was him finding her, and hurting her or worse. 

As you slid into bed you found the intrusive thoughts starting to grow more intense, and finally you snapped. You called Josh, and had no choice but to agree to your begging. Tour started in a week, and you knew Josh would already be questioning why she wasn’t here to begin with. So you did the only logical thing you could think of and booked her a ticket for the first flight out. You just knew you couldn’t live with yourself if Andy got to her, no matter how mad you were.

Part of you expected her not to answer as the call rang out, but as her sleepy voice came through the line, you felt a sense of relief wash over you that she had been, in fact, sleeping soundly the whole time.

The second you hung up you missed her. Missed her tired voice and the way you knew she probably looked right now, with sleepy eyes and bedhead. Missed the way she would curl into your side while she slept, and the way she would subconsciously reach for you in her sleep. But it was gone. She ruined that, and now you had to find a way to live with it. 

It was a surprise to your parents when you arrived at their door. Of course they were more than thrilled to see you, but when you showed up alone, you were met with questions. You hated lying to them, but you knew that with everything going on, now was not the right time to stir up issues. So you told them she was busy with work, and trying to get things ready for tour. Told them she would try to come up if she got everything done, but made no promises and left it at that. 

Now, as you lay here you realize your fatal mistake. You were so worried about getting her out of Nashville you hadn’t considered what that meant. She would have to stay here, with you. Sleep in this bed, with you. Spend the next four days, day and night, with you. You would both have to pretend that nothing was wrong and be just as loving and affectionate as the last time your parents saw you together. That or tell the truth. Something neither of you were prepared to do just yet. 

So you would. You would keep up the illusion that things were okay. That you still loved her. That you were in love with her. Like it was never a thought in the world that she would fuck your brother. It was all you could do. 

Y/N

11:57pm: Made it to Josh’s, thank you for sending him.

A sigh of relief left your chest knowing she was safe with Josh. It was killing you to pretend you didn’t care. You did, and you always would, despite loving her or hating her. 

You

12:00am: Text me when your plane is boarding.

Y/N

12:01am: Okay. Goodnight.

You swallowed harshly as you locked your phone and slid it onto the nightstand before rolling over in the bed. You closed your eyes and sighed, knowing that tomorrow you would see her and talk to her face to face for the first time in days, but even worse, that you would have put on the facade that she didn’t rip your heart out of your chest just a few short days ago.

—

Your fingers tap nervously on the center console of your car, watching the people begin to file out of the arrival doors. Your parents were excited when you told them where you were off to this morning, but you didn’t share the same feelings. You were nervous. Anxious. You’d gone over what you were going to say to her nearly a hundred times. You were ready.

Your knee bounced as you waited to catch a glimpse of her, as she walked out the door to find you. It’s just Y/N. You’ve seen her a thousand times. You don’t even want to see her, remember?

Just then, you caught sight of her. Her hair blowing in the wind across her face. Looking left and right for any sight of your car. You blew out a deep breath and stepped out of the car, walking around to lean on the front. She looked at you, nearly stopping in her tracks, before collecting herself and making her way to you. 

Her eyes met yours as she came closer, quickly looking away as she finally stepped up to you. 

“Hey.” she says, nervously.

“Hi, how was your flight?” you ask, out of courtesy.

She swallows, before looking at you again, “It was okay, a little bit of turbulence…” 

You nod and grab her suitcases, tossing them into the trunk. “You ready?” you ask.

She nods her head and opens the passenger door, stepping into the car. 

As you pulled out into traffic you let out a sigh, shaking your head. You could have never imagined you’d find yourself in this position. Now you had to lie to your parents. To your brothers. To everyone. Or did you? Should you just tell them? Show them who Y/N really was?

The drive was spent in silence, neither of you wanting to make the first move to talk. You knew you had to tell her. As the minutes until arrival grew smaller, you gathered up the courage and took a breath. 

“They don’t know. I haven’t said anything. They think I’m just here visiting for fun before tour.” you say.

“Oh.” she says, clearly surprised. 

“I’m not going to tell them. Not now at least.” you admit. 

“What do you–” 

“We’re going to act normal. At least until we leave for tour. I don’t want to stir up a bunch of shit with my family before we leave.” you say.

“So…” she pauses, “Why did you want me to come here? I could have just stayed with Josh?” she says.

“Because, like I said, no one knows anything. You not being here already raised questions. Josh asked too. It’s just easier to have you here, even if I don’t actually want to be around you.” you say, realizing your delivery was fairly harsh.

You see her swallow back the lump in her throat, and her fingers twist together.

“So here’s what needs to happen…” you pause, “...When we get inside, none of this…” you say, pointing between the two of you, “...ever happened.”

She crinkles her brows as she looks at you. “Okay, so… you’re saying you want me to just… act normal…” she questions.

“Pretty much. I’m going to talk to you, touch you, be around you just like usual. But here’s the thing…” you pause. “It means nothing. Because it did happen. This is to… keep up appearances so to speak. For my convenience and yours. The second that bedroom door shuts each night, the performance is over. You go back to nothing.”

You see her nod her head, a solemn look on her face. Her eyes blink rapidly to fight off the tears threatening to spill out as you pull into your parents driveway. You put the car in park and turn it off, turning to look at her. 

“Got it?” you ask.

She looks at you, face riddled with sadness as her voice sounds so small, “Yeah.”

“It’s either this, or you can tell them what happened. Your choice. But we both know you aren’t too inclined to tell the truth, are you Y/N…” you say, settling back into the seat. 

“No. It’s fine, I can do it.” she says, shaking her head.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that.” you scoff throwing the car door open. You make your way to the trunk, grabbing her suitcases and walking around to the front of the car to meet her.

“Alright, you ready, baby?” you ask, knowing full well that these next few days were going to hurt her more than she could even anticipate. You’d make sure of it.

—

After sweet but fake ‘hellos’  with your parents, lots of hugs and catching up, the afternoon turned into dinner plans and more visiting, leaving little to no room by yourself. You’d pulled out all the shots, trying to be as affectionate as you could with Y/N, even going as far as to kiss her on the cheek. Everything felt so strange and foreign, forcing yourself to put on your best happy face when all you wanted to do was lay everything out on the line. Expose all the secrets. But you couldn’t. Not yet. 

The plan was for you to cook with your dad, a fun old tradition that you actually hadn’t done in quite some time, and you were actually very excited about it. One of your grandma’s old recipes for Polska Kielbasa and cabbage with all of the appropriate sides. Your mom had asked Y/N to run to the store with her to pick up supplies. You’d let her deal with that one on her own. 

After they left, you and your dad spent some time rummaging through an old closet that they were in the middle of cleaning out when you showed up. They were pulling out everything from old boxes of baby clothes, home videos, photo albums, and books. You’d spent the majority of your time here already reminiscing on childhood memories while your dad scoured his old high school yearbooks. 

The closet was long and narrow, shelves lining both walls and both were stuffed full. It was like a treasure trove. You’d even managed to find your first old plastic guitar and karaoke set, a toy you and Josh never even knew would set you up for a journey you never thought you’d find yourselves on. 

The distraction was welcome, burying yourself in memories, happy memories, that you knew would never break your heart. These were solid ones. After almost an hour of sitting on the floor with one of your old guitar tab books from middle school, you heard the front door swing open and your mom’s voice echo through the house. 

“Hellooo, we’re back! Time to get cooking!” She sang as you heard grocery bags hitting the countertop. Dread again. You drug yourself up from your seat, stretching your legs as you stood. 

“Let’s go, Pops. Time to fry.” You said as you placed your hand on his shoulder and ducked out of the low ceilinged room. 

You walked into the kitchen and began pulling everything from the bags and opening the contents. You almost forgot that Y/N was even in the room for a second, your brain working overtime in trying to forget about her. 

“How was the closet?” She asked quietly. 

“What?” You responded, the sound of her voice sending a shock to your system. 

“The closet, did you find anything cool?” She asked again. 

“Oh yeah, found some old guitar stuff from middle school, some books and stuff. Old baby toys…” you drifted off as you washed your hands, noticing how quiet the room had become. Shit, appearances. 

“And how was the store, love? Did mom talk you into getting the good wine?” You asked, smiling through your words as you walked toward her, putting your wet hands all over her face. 

She laughed instinctively, pushing you away in a fit of giggles as you covered her face with your soaked hands. You grabbed around her, pinning her arms down while you patted the water onto her cheeks.

“Jake, quit! Come on!” She yelled as you chased her back, flicking the water onto her again. Her laugh…like music to your ears. And her smile, playful and hopeful and bright…all to come to a screeching stop as you both remembered that it wasn’t real. You backed away, disconnecting yourself from her and drying your hands as your headspace went from happy to devastated. 

“Yes Jacob, we got the good wine. We’re celebrating!” Your mom answered, popping the cork off. “Would everyone like a glass? Maybe we should have gotten three bottles…” 

As the night went on, the tension fell away and built itself up again more times than you could count. Everytime your eyes met, the look on her face was pure adoration, longing for you to hold her again, pull her back into you, and love her like she knew you did. But that was the thing. Did was the key word. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t love her anymore, but you hadn’t had time to process your feelings yet. And you knew that was okay. You were valid in thinking that you needed time. She’d committed the utmost offense, and whether or not you decided to forgive her was going to be on your own accord. And for right now, the way you felt, it didn’t look too promising. Time. Process. And you owed yourself that much, at least. 

After dinner, your mom retreated back into the closet, pulling Y/N in with her. 

“Come here, I have something to show you kids.” She muttered. You took a seat on the couch, knowing that adding another person into the closet would be too crowded. You sipped your wine as you watched them rummage. The two most important female figures in your life, standing and laughing together as they looked through your family mementos. Well, once most important. It almost felt wrong now, letting Y/N pilfer through these personal items that meant so much to your family, when obviously she didn’t care about meaningful things at all. 

“Here it is!” You mom yelped. “I knew I had stashed it away. Come here honey, come sit.” Your mom came and planted herself directly beside you on the couch, turning on the overhead light and patting the seat beside her for Y/N. 

“Look at this.” She said, placing a thick green photo album on her lap. “Summer 1993-1997. This is right when we started running around with your parents a bit more, Y/N.” 

She opened the book to show the pages of clear plastic covering old Polaroids and film photos, some ratted and torn and written on. 

“Look, this is when we all used to go to the lake. You know we started the 4th of July tradition you kids still do now?” She peeled back the plastic covering and removed the photo, flipping it over to read the back. She handed it to Y/N. “That’s me and your mom and Lori…Lord, look at us! All tan and cute. 1994. Kelly, wasn’t that the year that Dan bought that boat?” 

“Yeah, I think it was! That old piece of shit, we patched it more than we took it on the water. Almost sank on us a few times…” your dad laughed. 

You watched as Y/N’s eyes lit up, seeing old photos that she’d never seen before, her parents and yours at almost your age now, having fun and living their lives together. Just like you were. Just like you did. 

“Not a care in the world, huh Kelly?” She continued flipping through. “Oh, this! This was the day I told your mom I was pregnant with twins!” She leaned her shoulder into you, pushing you into the arm of the couch. You smiled hard, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen that picture. 

“And how did that go over, Mom?” You laughed. She handed you the photo, showing her and Y/N’s mom’s cheeks pressed together, smiles plastered across their faces, Y/N’s mom’s hand resting gently on your mom’s belly. You felt your heart sink, two young best friends not having a clue their kids would grow up and find themselves where you sat right now. 

“Went good. They were so happy for us…She threw me the most perfect baby shower six months later.” Your mom chased away a little tear that had formed, then placed her hands on both your and Y/N’s knees, patting them harshly.

“Then a few years later pretty little Y/N came along. Now look at you two. So happy together, we never would have even thought…anyways. We’re just so happy you two found each other again. You guys are really made of the good stuff.” 

Hah, if you only knew, Ma. 

She sighed again, as you made quick eye contact with Y/N, her eyes welling up as she clenched her jaw. You bit your lip back, feeling, for some reason, crushing guilt yourself. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but it hurt. 

“Then Daniel then Sam…ugh you kids. We love ya.” She patted your knees again and used them for leverage as she stood from the couch. “I’m going to refill my glass, you kids keep looking.” She tossed the album back onto your lap, as you and Y/N moved toward each other just a touch on the couch. 

You could feel her body tense as she carefully articulated her movements, leaning in toward you, but not too much. You flipped through the pages, trying to make small and basic conversation as you found pictures all the way up to the summer you and Josh were babies. You felt her sigh deeply, obviously feeling the same crushing sadness you felt. Hers was probably much, much worse though. 

The evening was drawing into night, and you began to feel an anxious feeling in your stomach at the thought of sharing your tiny full-size bed with Y/N. Your mom had already retreated to bed for the night, and the remaining three of you had joined in the living room to watch a movie. Reluctantly, you’d motioned to Y/N to cuddle into your side as you reclined, leaving your arms behind your head so you didn’t have to touch her. Still yet, the feeling of half her body laid back on yours felt so…strange. It was almost foreign but also the most comfortable you’d been in days. Why? Why did this have to be happening? 

Halfway through the movie, you felt Y/N’s breathing steady out, her chest rising and falling as she fell asleep. This is probably the best she’s felt in days, too. Fuck. You let her fall into a deeper sleep before you pulled her off of you a bit and resituated yourself on the seat. 

When the movie was over, your dad stood and stretched. “Jacob, come with me for a second.” He whispered. You stood, puzzled, and followed him into the dining room. In the dim light of the room, you watched as he opened a drawer in the old China cabinet, carefully opening it and removing something small. He walked back to you, lowering his glasses as he spoke quietly.  

“The past couple of days have been very sentimental for your mom and I…seeing all this old stuff we haven’t seen in years. Figuring out what we want to keep and what we consider junk. It’s been…a lot of fun. So it kind of got me thinking…” 

He handed you a tiny white cotton drawstring bag, embroidered with the initials AJK in tiny blue lettering on the front. 

“I want you to have this.” He said. “Go ahead and look inside.”

You pulled the drawstrings apart carefully, and gently poured the contents into your hand. 

“This was my grandmother’s engagement ring, your great grandmother’s. I don’t know how I ended up with it, but. It landed in my lap, and I gave my mother’s to your mom, so.” He went on, his voice low and genuine. 

You felt your entire soul shatter into a million pieces as the delicate gold band with one tiny diamond tumbled into your hand. 

“Dad…I…” 

“I know, it’s not much, but. It’s an heirloom. I don’t know much about what your plans are, son, but. I felt inclined to give this to you. I think it belongs with you. Just, keep it, for a while. You know. Or, keep it here, if you’d rather. Until you want it back, it will be safe in this drawer. But it’s yours. And I’m not taking it back.” He smiled his giant cheeky grin as he placed a hand on your shoulder. 

What do you do now?

You bit your lips together, and bravely brought your eyes to his. You nodded slowly. “Thanks, dad. It’s…it’s perfect. Thank you.” You managed to choke out. He patted your shoulder one last time before he walked off toward his room. 

“Goodnight, Jake.” 

“Night dad.” You stood still in the barely-lit room, too stunned to move and too unsure to think. You slid the ring carefully back into the bag, and pulled the drawstrings closed. You gently tucked it back into the drawer, closing it back quietly. 

Maybe he should have given that ring to Sam. 

—

You padded back into the living room, and grabbed the remote to turn the TV off. You looked to Y/N, still sleeping soundly cuddled up on the couch. For a split second you let yourself look at her, her face relaxed and hair a mess, hands tucked under her face as a pillow. You debated on waking her up at all, but you knew your parents would ask questions if they woke up and she was stuck on the couch. You gently shook her shoulder, speaking quietly so as not to wake her too suddenly. 

“Hey, hey Y/N wake up.” The word ‘babe’ almost slipped from your lips. You shook her a little rougher, jostling her awake. Her eyes opened slowly and she smiled the tiniest smile at seeing your face. “Do you want to go sleep upstairs or stay here?”

“Um, should we…for the sake of your parents…?” she asked, sitting up. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Let’s go.” You turned and started up the steps, not waiting for her to follow.

Entering your bedroom felt strange, especially knowing that the bed you’d made yourself comfortable in the past few days was now going to be half-taken up by her. She slipped in the door behind you a few seconds later, rummaging through her small suitcase that she’d packed with just enough until you got to the hotel. 

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower, if that’s okay.” She said, standing with some clean clothes clutched to her chest. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Should be clean towels in there.” you responded, sitting on the edge of your bed. You were thankful she had decided to give you some privacy to change, and you thought about not even taking your shirt off. This was so fucking strange. Just not too long ago, you never would have guessed you’d be having these thoughts, having to think these things being in her presence. Your girl, your world…now you were nervous to even sleep beside her. 

Then again, this was your bed, your room, your house. She was the guest. You changed into a pair of shorts, and slipped under the covers, leaving plenty of space beside you for her. You took a quick deep breath to ground you for the awkward night ahead. 

You scrolled on your phone for a little while while she showered, checking your emails reluctantly for anything from Richard. You’d all but forgotten that was now your main means of communication with him. When you found nothing but some run-of-the-mill updates and schedules, you plugged your phone into the charger and laid it on the nightstand. 

A few minutes later, she quietly pushed the door open, and came back into the room. Her hair was still damp and wavy, and her long t-shirt hung down to her knees over her oversized sweatpants. Always your favorite way to see her. You forced yourself to pull your eyes away while she kneeled and repacked her bag a bit, pulling it over closer to yours so she could close the door all the way. 

“Hey, do you happen to have any toothpaste I could use?” she asked. “I’m sorry…”

“Uh yeah, it’s in my little clear bag over there. Did you not bring any?” you replied.

“Well I’d been using this travel size one but it ran out, and you kind of, took ours, so.” she said, not turning around.

Fuck. ‘Ours’.

You cleared your throat. “You can use that one.”

“Thanks.” she said blankly as she reached into your suitcase to grab your toiletry bag. When she did, her motions stopped altogether. You followed her line of vision to the pile of clothes strewn throughout the bag. The flannel. Fuck. You watched as her eyes locked on it.

“I brought it on accident. I meant to donate it before I left.” you said running your tongue over your lips. 

“Donate it? But it's your favorite fl-” 

“It was your favorite flannel, Y/N. I only kept it because you loved it. So now I’ll donate it.” you said sharply, the words hurting coming from your mouth. 

She stared at it for a few more seconds, running her fingers over the collar before going back to the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she returned, she flipped the light off and got into bed quickly, wasting no time in crawling under the thick sheets. There was a brief awkward moment where the only light in the room was coming from your old nightlight, lighting the room up just enough that you could barely see the features on her face. 

The smell of her body wash suddenly filled your senses, a scent you hadn’t experienced in years. You were overwhelmed with memories of years past, overtaken with the full essence of her. You were so used to her smelling like you, that you’d forgotten all about it. Floral, sweet, and earthy. It made your head spin. 

She had laid down on her back, and turned her head slightly to meet your eyes. This was normally the time when you kissed her goodnight, reminded her how much you loved her, told her to sleep well and have the sweetest of dreams. But instead, you held each other’s gazes, eyes searching one another’s for answers to stop the pain you both were in. 

The eye contact was intense. This was the first you’d truly looked at her in days. You watched as her stare drove deeply into yours, her lip quivering ever so slightly as she fought back the same tears you were about to let flow yourself. But you caught them. Swallowed them down and broke your look away. You flipped on your side with your back to her, stuffing your old pillow under your head. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” you said. 

You felt her stir on the other side of the bed. “Goodnight, Jake.”

—

You were dreaming of being on stage again, the crowd a mass ocean of swaying hands and screams…everyone was happy and smiling, excited to be there in the space with you again. You were playing your guitar, but it felt odd in your hands. It was growing from five times its size, then shrinking back down to so small, you could hardly hold it. You couldn’t get a hold of it, and even stranger, it wasn’t making any sound. You felt the strings on your fingers, felt the vibration, but heard nothing. Just silence. You fought like hell to watch it, squeeze it and hold it at its normal size, but all it did was grow and shrink. You were growing more aggravated, the crowd still going wild and screaming while you struggled…

…Screaming…quietly, but loud enough that it woke you…the bed was moving and bouncing, and you felt an arm come across your torso, landing on you hard. Another loud yell filled your ears as you came all the way to, your eyes finally popping open as you woke up. What the hell? You looked over to Y/N as she kicked the bed covers off, twisting and turning in the bed, rolling her body from side to side and into you as she fought. Fuck, she’s having a nightmare. 

You sat up in the bed, trying to figure out how to go about this one. You hadn’t seen her this bad yet. 

“Get the fuck off of him! Andy, fuck you! Stop! He’s gonna fucking die! He can’t breathe…!”

You listened to her try to form coherent sentences in her dreamstate, slurring her words as she let them haphazardly fall from her lips. She was grinding her teeth and contorting her face in the worst way. 

“Jake! Please…breathe… Jake wake up please breathe, baby…”

“Jake! Please, please don’t leave me…”

God damnit, she was dreaming about you. And Andy. And the day that changed everything. 

“Y/N, hey! Wake up!” you said gently, trying not to scare her. You grabbed at her hands as she writhed and pulled them away.

“No! Andy don’t fucking touch me! Get off of him!” she blabbered. 

She was fighting you hard now, her limbs flailing around as she fought Andy off of you in her dream. The tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she was fighting for her own breath. You blew in her face, trying to stop her sobs, to hopefully wake her up enough that she could stop the nightmare. 

She finally started to calm down just a little bit, a thin sheen of sweat already formed across her head and face. You grabbed her hands again, holding them tightly as she slowed her movements. She was breathing so heavily and quickly you thought she might hyperventilate...so you blew in her face again.

“Calm down, Y/N…it's just me...it’s Jake…I’m okay, I’m alive… I’m right here…” at this point, you were close to panicking yourself, just watching her fight off this demon of a dream. You moved your hands up her arms as she ceased fighting you, pulling her in toward you, holding her close as she fought her breath. Her breathing finally caught as she began to wake up. You pet the back of her head trying your best to wake her up peacefully. After a few minutes, her yelps and breaths turned into slow sobs as she brought her arms up to wrap around you. She was crying for real now, her body still shuddering from fear.

“Jake…you’re okay. Are you here? Are you really alive?” she rubbed your back like she thought you might disappear if she pulled away. 

“Yeah, I’m here...Andy didn’t get me, I’m right here…Just us.” you spoke quietly. 

She continued crying into your shoulder for a bit longer while she came completely awake, and realized what she had just gone through. Finally she pulled away quickly from your embrace, her hand covering her mouth as she realized. She backed all the way off, her eyes wide with understanding. 

“Oh my god, Jake, I’m so sorry…did I? Did I have another one?” she said, keeping her hand over her face. 

“Yeah,Y/N, you did. And it was a bad one. Worst I’ve ever seen…” you responded.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry. That was…yeah that was a bad one. God, did I hurt you? I feel like I was thrashing around…” she looked around, seeing the bed sheets torn up and messy. 

“You were thrashing, but no, you didn’t hurt me.” 

Yes you did. You hurt the fuck out of me just now, Y/N. Scared me to death. 

“Good, Okay. Fuck.” She stood from the bed, taking the covers and straightening them out as she continued to fight off the deep residual sobs fighting her chest. “I’m so sorry…”

“Stop apologizing, Y/N. You can’t help those things. It’s okay.” you said, feeling suddenly so, so sorry for her. “I’m just glad I was here, I guess…” you trailed off as she sat back down gently. You watched as she used the end of her t-shirt to wipe her face and dry her eyes. 

“I’m glad you were too. I’m really, really glad you were…” She extended her hand to you, leaving her palm up. “Jake, are you ever going to let me talk to you? Are you ever going to let me fix this?”

You glanced at her hand, and back to her face, swallowing hard as you contemplated an answer. 

“I’m not sure that this is something that can be fixed, Y/N, I hope you know that. I’m really, really serious.” you whispered, leaving her hand where it was. “You did this to us…”

She pulled her hand back and set it in her lap as she fought back another round of tears that decided to come anyway. She turned away and laid back down, pulling the covers over her head as she situated herself for sleep again. 

You both lied in silence for a while as you listened to her cry, your heart absolutely breaking for her. Why did you feel bad? She fucking cheated on you, and you feel bad for her? The feelings were backwards…it should be her consoling you, right?

“Y/N, stop crying, please…” you whispered into the heavy room air, the overwhelming feeling to hold her coming over your entire body. You knew her nightmare had been set off by Andy being out of jail, and you rushing her here so quickly, and all the stress of everything that had just happened…all before leaving to live out of a suitcase for the next few months. You knew her mind was probably not a very happy place right now. 

She rolled over a little bit, staring at the ceiling. 

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I am so, so fucking sorry. There’s nothing in the world I can say to take back what I did. I know you don’t want me anymore. And I understand that. I’ve accepted that. I’m ready to face the facts about the mistake I made. I just want you to know that I truly love you so fucking much it hurts me. And I am so sorry. I’ll never be able to explain how much regret I have. I could go on for days… I wanted everything with you, the whole nine yards and I fucked it up. I fucked it all up.” She said, mumbling through her tears. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to hear that. And I’ve got so much more to say. Just…thanks for letting me talk.” 

She rolled back over, still sobbing into the pillow. You sighed heavily, arguing with yourself about what to do. You still loved her, of course you did. But you couldn’t do this, not right now. 

You snaked your hand under the sheets, finding exactly where her hand was balanced on her leg. You grasped it, holding it tightly for a few seconds before letting it just sit in yours. Way down deep in the depths of your human need for contact and touch, you felt happy letting her hold your hand. But just this much. And just for tonight. 

—

HER POV

The days drug on the same as they did when you were home alone in Nashville, except they were sprinkled with little activities here and there that distracted you from everything. You had been thinking about going and staying with your parents for a few days, and you finally decided to act on it. It might do you some good. And you really missed them. 

“Hey I’m going to go stay at my mom and dads the next couple of nights…just wanted to let you know. I’ll be back the day the rest of the guys come home.” You told Jake one day as you returned from the most awkward “lunch date” you’d ever been on. 

“Oh, okay. Sounds good.” He responded as he got out of the car and headed toward the house, not having a single care if you followed closely behind or not. 

You returned to the house and went upstairs to grab your bag, and repacking most of your things. You’d do laundry at your parents’. You stood, taking off back downstairs to wait for your dad to pick you up. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen area doing dishes and cleaning, and you walked up to the island where Jake sat, fingering through another old photo album he found. 

“What are these?” You asked, placing a hand uncomfortably on his shoulder. 

“Oh, our great grandfather was in WWII. He and his wife had a whole bunch of kids, just wrapping my head around who’s who.” He responded, not looking at you. 

“That’s really cool, babe. I hope you figure it out.” You said as you heard your dad pull up in the driveway. You leaned down and placed a quick peck on his cheek as you headed toward the door. 

“Bye guys! My dad’s here. I’m going to my parents for a couple days. I’ll be back soon.” You said as you waved goodbye to Jake’s parents. 

“Oh, I’ll walk you out!” Kelly said. “Wanna say hi to your dad.” He opened the door for you and followed you out. 

You turned and shared one last glance with Jake, his face sullen and sad, but showing no sign of effort to come and say goodbye. 

You walked out to the car as your dad stepped out to hug you, then turned to Kelly for a hug and some conversation. You opened up the trunk to throw your bag in and rearrange a few things as you did so, giving the dads a minute to chat. You realized you were going to be wearing the same clothes over again as you fingered through the dirty clothes, but it was easier than digging through your carefully packed one you were taking on tour. 

You sighed, closing the trunk closed as the chilly wind picked up. When the door shut, Jake was standing there by the car. 

“Fuck! You scared me…” you yelped. 

“Sorry, um. If…anything happens tonight, in the middle of the night, just. Call me, ok? I’ll…talk you through it…” he said softly, standing with his hands in his pockets. 

His words struck you. He hadn’t said as much as two sentences to you in days, now he’s offering to give you comfort if you had another nightmare? It must have been a bad one…

You nodded quickly. “Okay, yeah. I will. I hope not, but. Thanks, Jake.” 

You both walked around to the passenger side of the car as the dads were saying goodbye. 

“Jake, good to see you again.” Your dad said as he shook Jake’s hand, and brought him in for a quick hug. “I’ll take good care of our girl for the next couple of days, promise.” He joked. You watched as Jake’s face fell into an expression that you knew hurt him. Our girl. 

“Ah, thank you, sir. I know she’s in good hands. Hey, tell the Mrs. hello for me…” he responded. 

“Will do.” He said, stepping away. He and Kelly stood awkwardly for a second, waiting to not be rude as you and Jake said goodbye. Fuck, what now? They’re expecting you to…

You looked to Jake as he quickly glanced around, also realizing they were waiting for you to say goodbye properly. 

“It’s ok, kids. Say your goodbyes. We know you’re grown.” Kelly said. 

Jake cleared his throat and stepped toward you just as the wind picked up again, blowing tiny flecks of snow across your faces as his hands found your elbows. You looked to him, eyes wide and breath baited as he inched himself closer. The look on his face was anxious, like he was going with his gut when he really didn’t know what else to do. 

Within seconds, the gap closed, and his lips touched yours, light, cold, and sweet…your eyes closed on their own as his grip on your elbows tightened, and you let yourself step closer into him. You exhaled slowly, letting yourself feel the fireworks explode in your brain. You felt warm all over, a stark difference compared to the temperature outside blowing through your jacket. 

You felt his lip tremble across yours as he parted his lips a bit, giving you the tiniest taste of him. It felt like it had been years. He tasted so good that you were melting, letting the snow and wind blow your hair in such a way that it was tangling with his, a wild mess of strands hiding your faces from the outside world for this tiny span of time. Just you and him again, nothing had ever felt so right. He moved his hands from your elbows to your waist, feeling his hands grasp your hips in such a way that you knew he had to feel it, too. God, Jake. 

Your hands quickly drifted to touch him, too, your fingertips grazing his sides as he squeezed you. The explosions happening inside your brain were like shooting stars gliding across the sky by the hundreds, all different colors and sizes, shooting directly from you to him. The electricity was insane. 

He pulled away quickly, clenching his jaw as you watched him fight himself. Then he reconnected after just a split second, this time with a little more heat involved. His mouth was open on yours, his tongue grazing your bottom lip as he brought his fingers around your hips, his thumbs digging in as he pulled you closer. Fire. Pure flames. He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb running directly under your eye, calloused and cold. That feeling alone made you want to dissolve. His touch was so desirable and so missed, and you found yourself craving more, right there in front of your dad and his. 

Then suddenly, it was over. A five second kiss that felt like all you had been yearning for for a hundred millennia. Over in the blink of an eye. He pulled away with a defeated exhale, looking directly into your eyes. 

“Bye, baby. Call me if you need me.” He squeezed your elbows again, and turned back toward the house. 

—

A couple of days spent with your parents was always the medicine you didn’t know your soul needed. Their love was always so unending, so real and solid. You had fun with them, too. Cracking corny jokes with your dad, doing art and cooking with your mom…watching old movies until you all fell asleep on the couch. 

You and your mom were sitting at the tiny kitchen table, talking about anything and everything as you shared a kettle of chamomile. 

“How are the Kiszka’s? I haven’t seen them in a while…” your mom asked, stirring her teacup. 

“They’re great! I stayed there last night, they were cleaning out an old closet and found all these old photo albums and stuff. Karen actually found an album with tons of photos with you and dad in it. At the lake, before any of us were born.” You replied. 

“Oh my gosh! Those were the days, honey! We had so much fun…always getting into trouble somewhere.” She laughed. “I could tell you some stories, that’s for sure.”

Actually…

Without a word, you dashed into your bedroom, finding the few photos you’d completely forgotten Karen had given you to give to your mom. You ran back into the kitchen and presented them to her. 

“Oh my goodness! Look at us! Honey, come in here and look! I’m not sure I’ve ever seen these!” You smiled as your parents were overjoyed to see little pieces of their past captured on paper. 

“This is when we almost sank the boat at the lake…oh! And this is when we went on that overnight hike up near the lake and camped. Oh, honey, remember you got poison ivy?” The joy that was emanating off of them was so cute to watch. 

“Oh, Y/N! This is when Karen told me about the babies! We were so happy. So terrified, we cried for hours…then we invited Lori over and told her, too. We sat up until the sun came up talking about how excited we were…”  she went on. 

“She told me you threw her a baby shower.” You smiled. 

“Yes, we did. They got so much stuff, and double! We had diapers stashed at everyone’s houses.” 

They continued to flip through the photos. “I can’t believe that just a few short years later you were born. And Sammy and Danny. Feels like just yesterday we were chasing you all around.” You watched as your mom reminisced. 

“Do you remember your, what was it, fourth birthday party? Probably not but, it was unicorn themed. You loved unicorns. We decked everything out and even had a piñata, it was adorable. But, you and Sam were so tight. Best friends. But he had started to pick on you a little, made fun of you for having such a ‘girly’ birthday party. I think he may have had a little crush on you. But he made you cry, baby! You were so shy and embarrassed, so I remember Jake going and setting him straight. Told him he wasn’t allowed to make people cry, especially his best friends. Something like, ‘We don’t hurt the feelings of the people we love, Sammy.’ Jake made him apologize to you, honey. Ugh, it was the sweetest little thing. He was protecting you even then.”

You felt your wide smile topple directly over into a frown. God, what? Your parents hardly ever talked about stories like this from your childhood, how you were all friends, how you grew up together. You knew they would, if you asked, but hearing a story like that just clarified everything you ever needed to know. Jake had literally always been there. 

Being back in your old home, and your old bedroom was definitely eerie, but nonetheless comforting. You kept catching yourself being so caught up in their love and care for you that you would forget about everything that had just happened, and about Jake. And Jake’s hands on you…but never for too long. 

The guilt still weighed heavily on you, especially since no one around you but Jake knew of the horrible mistake you’d made. The life-altering choice. You fell asleep each night debating on whether or not to text him and tell him goodnight, call him, send him a photo of the dinner you made, anything. But you never did. He didn’t want you to. 

You also debated on texting Sam, or Elle. For some reason, you’d had absolutely no contact with either of them since you got back from Vegas. Not even anything from Elle. It was eating you alive. 

The morning you were supposed to leave, you got a text from Jake. 

11:06am

Jake: They’re back. Spending the day visiting. You can come back tonight or we can get you on the way to the venue tomorrow. Doesn’t matter 

Oh, so he probably didn’t want you to come back today. You decided you’d have your dad drop you off late tonight when everyone had settled in for bed, that way you could just wake up and leave as a group. 

A group. It felt like you hadn’t been a group in years, now. You sighed, texting him back. 

11:09am

You: Okay, I’ll be back late tonight so we can just get on the road asap tomorrow

11:10am

Jake: Ok

You wondered if that was really okay with him, seeing as how now you would be sharing a bed again. Maybe you’d go back late enough that he would already be asleep, and you wouldn’t disturb him as you came back in. Yeah right, you thought. He’s a night owl. 

You waited until after midnight to have your dad take you back after you’d spent the evening talking and visiting with them by the old wood stove, sharing some drinks and dinner. 

“I think your mom and I are going to try to come to most of the Michigan shows, but your mom’s having a little bit of trouble with that darn Ticketmaster program, or whatever it is…” your dad went on as you pulled down Jake’s street. 

“Oh dad! I didn’t even think about you wanting to come! Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it. I’ll get you tickets. I’ll send them in an email.” You replied. 

“No, no, honey, we want to support them. We’ll figure it out.” He went on. 

“No, dad. I’ll get them. Seriously. Just you being there is supporting them. I promise. I’ll have them to you tomorrow.” You said, making a mental note. 

“Okay, thanks sweetie. We’re excited. Your mom’s making me go shopping for an outfit tomorrow. Whoopie!” You laughed as your dad seemed overjoyed to be hopping around the mall with your mom all day tomorrow. 

You pulled into the driveway, finding the house mostly dark. “I love you, dad. I’ll see you here soon!” You said, leaning over the seat to hug him. 

“Love you too, sweetie. So glad you kids come and see us, still. So happy you’re happy, honey.” He said, patting the back of your head. Shit. 

“Thanks dad. See you.” You half-smiled, climbing out of the car and grabbing your bag to sneak back inside the house. 

You quietly entered the house, hearing nothing but a distant TV and Josh’s snores coming from upstairs. You removed your shoes, and tiptoed through the dark house toward the stairway. Passing by the kitchen, something caught your eye. A dark shadowy figure sitting at the kitchen island, sipping a glass of water. 

Sam. The first you’d seen him, really. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you passed by him slowly, your eyes catching each other’s as he looked at you over the rim of his glass. The seconds felt like hours while you stared at each other, not moving, not saying a word. Finally he swallowed the water, and set his glass back down, breaking the eye contact. Fuck. You pulled your eyes off of him, and continued your trek up the steps. 

You decided to go to the bathroom first and take a quick shower; you weren’t sure when your next one would be, given how busy it was about to get. You stripped down and stepped in the steaming water, letting the past couple days wash off down the drain. You cranked up the heat, hoping that breathing in the steam would make you so dizzy that you’d fall right asleep when you got to Jake’s bed. 

You changed into a t-shirt and shorts and brushed your damp hair until it was tangle-free. When you went to brush your teeth, you found that Jake had left the toothpaste out on the counter. On purpose, for you? Or for himself in the morning…

Quietly, you pushed open the door to his bedroom, finding him already drifted off, lying on his stomach with his arms up under his face, in nothing but his boxers and his singular silver necklace. His hair was back in a bun, already messy from tossing and turning. The covers were pulled down to his waist, showing his whole torso rising and falling as he slept, his eyelids gently moving as he dreamed. Jesus, he’s so beautiful. You took a mental snapshot of him, knowing that this may be the last time you see him this way, this relaxed. 

Slipping in beside him, you turned your back away to not face him, and urged yourself to fall asleep as quickly as possible. After twenty minutes or so of drifting in and out, you felt warm, familiar hands reach out and grab you, pulling you backwards across the bed. Jake slipped his arm under your neck, and the other across your chest, pulling you backwards as he cuddled you. What in the world? 

You were surprised, but couldn’t tell if he was awake or not. You felt his face balance on the side of yours, feeling his slow and shallow breaths come across your face. Damnit, this is torture. You hadn’t felt his body on you like this in so long, you stiffened to it, unsure he even knew what he was doing. His hand that held your chest crept down and found yours, interlacing your fingers with his as he brought your hands back up to your chest, pressing them into you. 

Working hard to hide the sobs that began to shake your chest, you decided to let yourself feel it, your favorite place on earth, cuddled into Jake as he held you, safe and sound. You weren’t sure if he had even invited you here subconsciously or not, but for right now, you were just going to enjoy it. Bask in it. Let yourself be his little spoon one last time. His little dipper. 

—

JAKE POV

Your eyes popped open quickly, realizing the strange position you had found yourself in. Y/N wrapped up against you, your arms underneath her and twisted around her, your face close and breathing in the smell of her hair. 

Fuck, what the hell! 

You took a breath as the sleep drifted away, and you took a second, the tiniest amount of time, to feel her here. It may be the last time. She felt so good here, your puzzle piece. But she wasn’t yours, not anymore. 

You pushed yourself away slowly, pulling your asleep arm out from underneath her. Damnit! How did you let yourself do this?! How long were you cuddling? You rolled yourself to the opposite side, trying to wake your arm and hand up, the tingles making you hurt. 

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, finding it to only be 6:30 in the morning. You had to wake up in a half hour anyway, so you crawled from the bed and headed to the shower, pissed at yourself for letting your guard down, and letting her get so close. 

—

Downstairs, you found your family already risen and awake, your mom scrambling eggs and whipping up breakfast as quickly as she could. Y/N was seated at the island, dressed and ready for the day. 

“Morning, babe.” She murmured, sipping her coffee. 

“Morning.” You replied, letting your hand brush her shoulders.. 

You wondered how the dynamic was since you’d been upstairs. Thankfully, Josh was taking up the dead space, filling the air with another explanation of a plan he had. 

You glanced to Sam, finding him stirring his coffee and staring at nothing else. Elle, listening to Josh with her head balanced on her fist. And your parents, unaware of anything and everything as they candidly discussed Josh’s plan. Hm. Okay then. We ride like this. 

Actually, you looked forward to ignoring Sam and Y/N all day, as you woke up on the absolute wrong side of the bed this morning. You were still kicking yourself for even touching her, let alone waking up with her intimately in your arms. Your stomach turned. Never again. 

The time came to leave, and you’d packed your suitcase without really caring how wrinkly anything got. You zipped it up and wheeled it down the stairs. Each of you hugged and kissed your parents goodbye, thanking them for breakfast and telling them you’d see them at the shows. 

“The van is outside, guys.” Y/N said, reading her phone. “Let’s get on the road.”

As you all walked out the door, you dead last, your mom caught you by the arm, pulling you back to talk to her. 

“Jake, did your dad give it to you?” She asked with a sneaky smile on her face. 

Fuck. 

“Yeah, uh. He did. It’s, great. I’m actually gonna keep it here, though, I won’t feel like it’s safe with me on the road.” You responded, watching as everyone loaded their things into the van. 

“Oh, no baby. Take it with you! You never know when you might, want it. Ya know? The moment will hit you out of nowhere, and you’ll feel like you can’t breathe until she says yes. Trust me honey, it belongs in your possession.” You watched as she ran quickly into the dining room to retrieve it. Within seconds, she came bounding back, and placed the bag secretively in your hand. 

“I know you’ll find somewhere safe to keep it. You’ve always been good with protecting your treasures.” 

She kissed your cheek, and you gave her a sweet smile. “Love you, Momma. See you soon.” You said, and you wheeled your suitcase down the walkway. 

You filed into the van one by one after stashing your things into the thankfully oversized trunk, and you were on your way to the hotel. You hadn’t been to these smaller towns in Michigan in some time, and you were excited to return. It was always fun revisiting cities again. The plan was to check into the hotel in Saginaw, drive to Kalamazoo to sound check, then back to the hotel to regroup before the show. It was going to be a long day. 

The ride wasn’t terribly long, and you spent most of it staring out the window at the scenery. You let your head wander a bit, the passing buildings and trees and farms a welcome distraction from your mind traveling a million miles a minute. You glanced over to Y/N on the bench seat beside you, flipping through her emails on her phone, probably recentralizing herself with her job. Good, we don’t have to talk. 

Finally you arrived at the hotel. You were looking forward to a little bit of downtime to get your head in the right space to be back on stage. It had been so long, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit nervous. But all would be well, as long as you could keep up your charade, and not strangle Sam. 

—

HER POV

After a quick exchange with the guys in the lobby, Richard handed Jake your room keys and you made your way towards the elevator. The ride up was silent, not that you expected it not to be. It was so weird to be around the guys and them think everything was okay, when it was the absolute furthest from okay. It was getting harder to lie to them, especially Josh, who was sending you questioning looks and sorrowful eyes. 

Being close to Jake again had only gotten harder. You missed him, more than you’ve ever missed anything. The real jokes, the real laughter, the real smiles. Not the fake ones the two of you had been producing over the last few days. Sharing a bed was the hardest part, knowing you couldn’t roll over and kiss him, or hold him and do anything you were dying to do. But he was right, you had made that choice in the stairwell. A choice you had to live with everyday now.

Opening the door to the hotel room you would call home over the next several days, you stepped inside, ready to disappear into the cloud of blankets, but your breath was nearly stolen from your lungs when you realized that your room reservation had been changed. 

Instead of your usual king bed, you were met with the sight of two queen beds, side by side. Your eyes widened as you realized this was Jake’s choice. 

You turned to look at him when he stepped in behind you, and his lips twitched a bit before his eyes caught yours. 

“What? You didn't honestly think we were going to continue to sleeping in the same bed…” he says, voice laced with venom.

You push your suitcase to the wall and turn heading straight for the bathroom, willing the tears not to fall before you could close the door. 

Shutting it behind you, you leaned over the sink, watching the tears drip into the white porcelain. Of course he doesn’t want to sleep with you anymore. He only did it to not raise suspicions. There was no other choice. Here, there’s a choice, and he’s made it.

The last few nights spent in the same bed with him had been the best sleep you’d gotten in what felt like ages, even if you hardly touched. Just knowing he was there with you, feeling his body heat under the sheets, hearing the soft noise of his breath as he slept, was enough. You tried not to think too much into it when you would feel him press against you, or the way his hand would seek yours out in the dead of night. You just let it happen, and just as quickly it would be gone.

You dried your red eyes and splashed your face with cold water, flushing the toilet to try and mask the real reason you were in here. You took a deep breath and let it out as you opened the door, stepping back into the room. As you made your way over to your respective bed, he didn't even bother looking up from his phone. 

You pulled your phone and charger from your bag and plugged it in, hoping to get a little more battery before you had to leave with the guys for soundcheck. As you laid back into the pillows you saw Jake turn and look at you, before getting up and walking over to the mini bar. He twisted the top on a miniature Jack Daniels, pouring it into one of the glasses on the counter. Of course he was drinking, that’s what he always does. 

Almost as if he had heard you his head snapped in your direction, “If you’re going to sit over there and scrutinize my every move you can book yourself into another room and I’ll let you do the honors of telling everyone why you aren’t in here with me. Sound good?” he says sarcastically, walking over to you.

“The drink is for you. Figured you’re gonna need it for the day you’re about to have.” he says, holding it out to you.

“I wasn’t scrutinizing you, Jake.” you snap taking the drink from his hand, even though you absolutely were.

“You think I can’t tell when you’re lying? You think I don’t know every single thought that goes through that mind of yours? It’s all over your face, Y/N.” he says.

“Actually, on second thought. Maybe I don’t. I don’t know, because I can’t possibly imagine the rationale you had in Las Vegas that told you what you were doing was a good idea. Maybe I don’t know you at all.” he says.

Your face flames red, and you toss back the warm drink, watching him rip his own phone from the charging cord and shove it into his pocket. “Let’s go, it’s time to leave.” he says, not even looking you in the eye.

He grabs his guitar case and heads for the door, leaving you in the dust.

—

Stepping through the doors at the venue you were happy to have an excuse to get away from everyone. It was a quick ride, choosing to stay at one hotel, central to all of the show locations. You took your normal seat next to Jake, but that was the extent of it. You didn’t speak, you didn’t touch, nothing. You were itching to get out of that van as quickly as possible.

You were thankful for that drink earlier, he was right, it would be a long night. Finding your way to the dressing room you made sure everything was ready for them before being stopped by Richard in the hallway. 

“You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago. The crew is on the clock.” he says.

“As you know, the hotel you booked is well over 50 minutes away from this particular venue, paired with 5 o’clock traffic, there was bound to be a little bit of time discrepancy.” you reply. 

“As their assistant, it’s your job to make sure they are ready to go when I tell them it's time to leave and account for traffic.” he snaps.

“No, actually, my job is whatever Josh asks of me, and since he was the one running a bit behind as we left, I would say this whole argument is moot. They are here now and ready to go, so tell your crew they are heading to the stage.” you say, turning on your heels.

Who does this guy think he is?

The guys rush past you one by one, in a blur of linen and vibrant prints, ‘Hey Dick!’ ringing out from Josh’s mouth.

You smile to yourself. How perfectly timed, Josh. 

Jake brings up the back of the group walking to the stage with his guitar case in hand, passing it off to his tech, as he steps up onto the stage. 

“Y/N!” you hear your name called by a voice you haven't heard in days. Elle.

You take a deep breath and turn around to face her with a smile, “Elle!”

She wraps you in a hug that makes you sick to your stomach, “How are you!? Why haven't I heard from you?!” she gushes.

“Oh Elle, I’m sorry! I was so busy getting ready for tour that I have hardly been on my phone at all. Then I was visiting my parents… It’s been a crazy week.” you say, hoping she will buy it. 

“Oh totally, I get it. Thought for sure you’d be at the parents last night, but…” she trails off.

“Yeah, my family wanted to do this dinner thing, I don’t know. I got in late, you were already asleep.” you say.

“No biggie. We will be together like everyday now!” She smiles, “You ready to watch our men kill it the next few weeks?” 

Again, the sick feeling washes over you, just as the beginning notes begin to ring through the arena. “Yeah, I think it's going to be a wild tour.”

—

Danny came barrelling off of the stage with a huge grin, glad to be back in his happy place. He seemed more confident than ever recently, his new hairstyle definitely playing a part in that. You could hardly wipe the smile off of his face anymore, and you were glad someone was happy. 

Josh and Sam walked off next, talking as Josh sipped from a water bottle, patting you on the arm as he passed. Elle squeezed your hand as she joined Sam, as they walked down the stairs. 

Jake was last, handing his guitar off to his tech and giving him a few quick notes. You turned away and began to make your way down the stairs, hearing him walking behind you. 

“Hey…” he says, quietly and your breath catches.

You stop and turn to meet his eyes behind the lenses of his sunglasses, “Hey.”

“You gotta walk with me if you want this to be believable.” he says.

“Right.” you whisper to yourself, letting him catch up to you. 

The two of you make your way into the dressing room, finding everyone else already beginning to make drinks. Elle held a drink out towards you as you entered, and you were thankful. You accepted it from her, as she pulled you away from Jake and into the corner of the room to sit on a set of leather chairs.

“Now we can relax!” she smiles.

“Yeah, I haven’t done much of that recently!” you laugh.

“Really? I feel like that’s all we did since we got back from Vegas. Well…at least I have. I don’t know what Sam’s deal is, but he has been so…attentive. Anxious, almost.” she giggles. “Waiting on me hand and foot, cooking my favorites, and the sex…” she raises her eyebrow.

You swallowed down a large gulp of the vodka and orange juice mixture, feeling a cold sweat break out on your skin.

“Wow, sounds like the royal treatment.” you smile.

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s up, but I’m not complaining.” she says, looking over to Sam who is sending her a wink from across the room.

Well, I’m glad his relationship didn’t implode.

You glance over at Jake, who is leaning against the wall talking to Danny, his posture slightly closed off. 

“How’s he doing? You know… after everything. I haven’t heard from him since, neither has Sam.” she asks, looking over at him.

“Oh, um, well, I think he’s been really stressed about the tour starting. We haven’t really talked much about that night at all. He’s kind of been keeping to himself and trying to stay busy.” you lied.

“Hmm, I guess that makes sense. He was super quiet last night when we were all hanging out. Would hardly speak to anyone. Just kind of looked at his phone all night.” she says dismissively.

“Yeah, he was asleep when I got there, then we left early this morning. I’m sure once the first show is done and over with he will come around. Just pre-tour nerves or something.” you reply.

Just then the door opens to the dressing room, Richard stepping in commanding the attention in the room. 

“Listen up boys, we’ve got some new team members joining us and I wanted to get introductions done so we can have a smooth show tomorrow. I’m gonna be bringing people by as I see them, but for now, and most importantly, I’d like you to say hello to Logan. He is the new Production Manager. He will be overseeing everything behind the scenes. He will be in charge of your equipment, so you don’t want to get on his bad side.” he lets out a fake laugh. 

Richard steps aside and you see the man step through the door, stealing all the air from your lungs. His smile is exactly like you remember as he glances around the room, lifting a hand to wave as his eyes spot you. 

“Logan!?” you say, jumping up from your chair. He looked exactly how you remembered, just a little older. His hair hung in long spiral curls around his face, still the same dark brown that stood out against his slate gray eyes.

“Oh my god, Y/N?!” he says, hastily making his way over to you and pulling you in for a hug.

“Wha–What, what are you? You’re? Oh my god!” you gush, stepping back from his familiar hug. 

The two of you laugh as you realize you’ve made quite the scene. 

“I’m guessing you two know each other?” Danny asks. 

“Uh yeah! We had nearly every Major course together the last two years of college! Shit, I probably wouldn’t have graduated if it wasn’t for her!” he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard as you looked around the room. Everyone smiling, except for Jake. He stood leaned against the wall, sipping his drink with his legs crossed, watching the scene unfold before him. You swallowed nervously and turned your attention back to Logan. 

“Okay, let me introduce you to the guys!” you say, grabbing his arm and pulling him over towards Josh. 

“This is Josh, lead singer and tambourine expert.” Josh smiles and shakes his hand. 

“This is Daniel, he plays the drums.” you say motioning towards Danny. 

“Oh, drums. I wanna pick your brain later if you’re up for it?” he asks, sending a hopeful smile Danny’s way.

“Shit yeah, always.” he agrees. 

“Okay, this is Sam, he plays bass, keys, and pretty much any other instrument you can imagine.” you laugh.

“Oh and he’s always down for shots!” Sam adds, reaching his hand out to Logan. 

“Ahh my bass man. So you’ve got that modded out green fender?” he asks, pointing his finger towards him.

“Yeah man, that's my lady.” he smiles.

“Dude, the jazz neck…” he says nodding his head.

“Yeah, game changer. I’ll never go back.” he says excitedly. 

Okay, so this is going extremely well. You had forgotten that Logan was just as much of an expert as they always were. He was going to fit in just fine.

“And lastly, Jake. He is the lead guitarist and probably who you will be working with the most.” you say, letting your eyes drift up to meet his.

Jake clears his throat and extends his hand, “Hey man, nice to meet you, Jake.”

“Dude, I’ve gotta say, your cabinet is stacked.” he smiles.

“Yeah, I’ve always had a type. Had a hard time straying from it. But more recently I have been thinking I need to venture out. Maybe try something new for once.” he replies, cutting his eyes over to you. 

What?

“I don’t know man, if you find something that works for you… gotta stick with it.” he replies, clearly having no idea the true intentions behind Jake’s words.

“Yeah, and I’ve always thought that, but, guess we’ll see if anything new catches my eye. May be time for a change.” he says, sipping from his drink.

You feel your heart plummet into your stomach, and shake the thoughts away. 

“Well it was great to meet you all, I have a few loose ends to wrap up before tomorrow, so I’m gonna run, but if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out. Oh, Y/N, you still have my number right?” he asks, as you nod your head, “Cool, can you send it to them? Just text me guys, I always have my phone on me. See ya tomorrow!” he says, giving you one more hug and stepping out the door. 

“Well, well, well, I guess we know now why little miss thing went MIA for a few years.” Danny laughs. 

The room sounded out with ‘ooh’s and ahh’s’ and kissing noises, making your stomach turn.

“No. No. No. It was never like that. We were just best friends.” you confirm.

“Makes sense.” Sam says, crossing his arms. 

“Ugh! Not like that Sam, come on!” you try to reason.

“No, no… I get it…” he says facetiously.

“I swear!” you say, with a smile. 

“Jake better mark his territory, and quick!” Danny laughs.

Everyone turns to look at him, finishing the rest of his drink, “Even if I did, how do I know it would stop him? People typically go after what they want regardless of the consequences.” he says, sending the room silent. 

“Whatever, you guys ready to eat? I’m starving!” Danny says, making his way to the door. 

Everyone agrees and stands up, walking over to the door. You hang back for a minute, breathing heavily as you try to clean up the empty cans and glasses left scattered about. 

You toss the last can into the trash, watching Jake hold the door open with his back, as you walk towards it. 

“Isn’t that right, Y/N…”

Your face flames red as you slip past him, heading towards the van waiting outside. You could feel him, hot on your heels as you walked down the hallway. You turned around to catch his gaze, fixed upon you as you walked, and if you didn’t know any better, by the look on his face, you would say that famous rockstar Jacob Kiszka, was jealous of someone else.

—

After a quick dinner at the hotel bar, you all made your way back to your respective rooms, ready to call it a night. You walked with Jake and Josh as you stepped out of the elevator, the two of them finishing up a conversation that started well over thirty minutes ago. 

“You guys wanna come into my room for a bit?” Josh asks.

“No. Y/N’s tired, but I will for a few.” Jake replies. 

“Here, take the key. You can go.” he says, pulling the extra key card from his wallet. 

Josh looks at the two of you and the interaction you just had with an inquisitive look, casting his glance over to Jake. 

He quickly realizes, and leans over kissing your cheek, as you accept the card from his hand. 

“Won’t be long, baby.” he says, eyes dead as the words leave his lips.

You nod your head and make your way down the hallway to your room, tapping the key to the door and looking over your shoulder to see them entering into Josh’s, but you notice Jake, looking over his shoulder to watch you, too.

You step into the room, and as the door shuts you let out a sigh. What a rollercoaster of a day. 

You step over to your suitcase, pulling your toiletries out of the bag, and grabbing your pajamas, before heading into the bathroom for the longest, hottest shower of your life.

You take extra time in the shower, scrubbing every inch of your skin and even double shampooing. You let the scalding hot water beat into your skin until it’s pink, relaxing the tense muscles in your shoulders from all of the stress over the last few days. Usually, Jake would work out the knots for you, his skilled hands knowing all of your pressure points. You could only dream of how it would feel to let his hands glide over you one last time.

You shook the thought from your head and stepped out of the shower, wrapping your hair into the white towel. You slid your hand across the foggy mirror and looked at yourself. 

What did you do? More importantly, why?

—

JAKE POV

After a quick night cap in Josh’s room you found your legs carrying you down the hallway to your room, dread washing over you as you heard the door unlock. 

As you stepped inside you heard the shower running. Maybe you can change, get in bed and fall asleep before she comes out.

You quickly walked over to your suitcase, pulling out a t-shirt and and stripping out of your clothes, before pulling it over your head. You pulled your hair into a bun and grabbed your phone charger, plugging it into the wall, before sliding into the cold, crisp sheets. 

You pulled your glasses on and laid on your side, facing the other bed as you scrolled through your phone, trying to see if anything piqued your interest. The room was lit by only one softly glowing yellow lamp, and you felt your eyelids growing heavy. 

The bathroom door unlocked, commanding your attention as you saw her step out of the bathroom. You nearly felt your chest cave in as you looked at her. Her skin was flushed pink from the shower, her wet hair hanging around her shoulders. You could smell her, your favorite smell in the world, even from across the room. But that wasn’t what took your breath away. No. It was the sight of her, bare legged and standing there in that old t-shirt you gave her so long ago. 

You remember the night you gave it to her, after that party. The first night you ever slept next to her. The first night you played her what would forever be known as her song. Whether you liked it or not. She kept the shirt, after all these years. And you’d never forget it.

Now as she walked towards the beds with her dirty clothes in hand, you watched her as she squatted down to her suitcase, to put her things away. She turned to you, catching you staring. Fuck. 

“Can I…use that toothpaste again? I will get my own tomorrow, I swear.” she asks.

You pretend to be disinterested, focusing back on your phone. “Yeah, sure it’s in the bag.”

When you know she has her back turned, you watch her walk over to your suitcase sitting on the luggage stand, and begin to look for your toiletry bag. She bends slightly at the waist as she unzips the bag and pulls out the toothpaste, giving you the slightest peek at her ass as the shirt lifts. 

Your body betrays you as you feel the blood start to rush away from your head. You roll back to your side, and open a news article, trying to focus your attention on anything other than how you know she looks beneath that shirt, and how badly you want to touch her. 

She disappears back into the bathroom, and remerges a few minutes later, locking the door and closing the curtains. She slides into her bed, opposite of yours and plugs in her phone. 

You find your eyes drifting over the top of your phone to look at her, her eyebrows furrowed as she scrolls through hers. 

You see her look up from her phone in the exact same way but quickly return your eyes to your screen. You pull your glasses off and set them on the nightstand, along with your phone, before flipping to your back. 

“Do you want me to turn the light off?” she says softly.

“Nah, doesn’t bother me, if you want it on.” you reply. 

“Do you care if I turn the TV on?” you ask.

“No, go ahead. But no murder stuff, it will give me nightmares.” she smiles.

“Alright. No murder stuff.” you say, reaching for the remote. Your eyes catch hers just five feet away from you, and you feel your heart twist. You swallow, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

You reposition yourself in the bed, flipping through the channels to find something you could fall asleep to. You hear her slide her phone onto the nightstand and flip off the lamp, leaving the room lit with just the blue glow of the television.

You settle on The Food Network, showing a rerun of Chopped, just as someone is being sent away. You turn down the volume and place the remote on the nightstand, before rolling back to your side. 

You close your eyes for a few seconds, feeling the whiskey swirling through your system as you try to drift off to sleep, but something in your mind is telling you to open your eyes, just look at her one more time. 

So you do, and you’re met with her gaze. She’s watching you just like you’re watching her. Both of you laying on your sides, just staring at one another in the dark room. But neither of you makes a move to stop. You think of her, laying there in your shirt. Of her in your bed this morning, the way she was wrapped around you, and your stomach starts to churn. You’re mad. How could she do this to you? To both of you?

“Was it worth it?” you ask, your gravely voice drifting across the room.

“What?” she breathes.

“Was it worth it?” you repeat, a little louder.

“No. No Jake, it wasn’t. I wish I could take it back.” she answers, voice cracking.

“I wish you could too.” you reply. 

“I’m sorry, Jake.” she says, a tear running out of her eye.

“I bet you are.” you snap.

You watch her turn over to her other side, hugging her arms around her chest as she tries to stifle the sound of her tears. You wonder how many nights in a row she’s cried herself to sleep. 

Your adrenaline is pumping from the short interaction, causing your heart to race. You look at the TV, pretending to be interested before deciding to settle yourself into your pillows and close your eyes. It hurt you to be so cold towards her. You hated it. But you hated what she’d done even more. 

You could hear her sniffles through the low drone of the TV and swallowed heavily to push your own feelings back.

“Do you remember? Do you even remember what you said to me, that night in Bridgeport?” she asks, breaking the silence. 

You don’t answer, running through your memories trying to remember what she’s talking about.

“You–ou told me you would love me until the day you died.” she forced through her heaves of breath. “Then, in Chicago…” she pauses. “...You told me you would never leave me. Never.”

It felt like someone sliced your heart out. You knew you had to shut this down before it got worse.

“That was before you snuck off and slept with my brother behind my back, Y/N. Do you not get that?” you say.

“I do! I do get it Jake! And I have told you I’m sorry! I’ve told you I regret it more than anything in my whole life! I told you I wish I could take it back! I can’t do this without you, it’s killing me!” she cries out. 

“You made the choice, Y/N! Both of you did. I didn’t make it. I just did what I had to do.” you answer. 

“But you don’t have to Jake! You can let me try to fix it! Let me try to regain your trust, I–” she sobs. “I love you Jake. Can’t you see that?” she finishes, her voice small.

“You know what I see Y/N? I see the vision of you and Sam in a stairwell, both fully knowing you were doing, and continuing to do it regardless of the consequences. You knew what you were giving up that night.” you reply.

“Tell me you don’t love me anymore Jake. Tell me.” she snaps.

“No. I won’t say that. Part of me always will. I loved you since we were teenagers, it built up over years. But all it took was 5 minutes for me to understand that you didn’t feel the same way.” you say.

“But I do! And…This morning… You–you, we…”

“It was a mistake. It meant nothing. All of this has meant nothing. I told you that. Don’t read into it.” you snap.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything when you kissed me! I know you did Jake! You didn’t want it to end just as much as I didn’t.” she says.

“You’re right, I did feel something after that kiss. I felt sick. Sick to my stomach, that I thought you were who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” you say, driving in the final dagger.

You hear a sob rip from her chest. You knew that was harsh, and fuck, maybe you didn’t mean it. But part of you just wanted her to hurt like you were hurting. You knew that would do it. 

You reach for the remote and turn the TV off, letting your eyes close. “And for the love of God, please don’t cry all night, I have a long day tomorrow and I need to get some sleep.” you say, placing the remote on the nightstand and letting your eyes close.

Her stifled sobs fall into her pillow, and your heart twists knowing you caused it. You lied, you did love her. You didn’t know if you could stop loving her. Loving everything about her. The good, the bad, the ugly. If anything were to make you stop loving her, this would be it, right? Were you doing the right thing? Was this the right thing?

—

The first show came and was a blur of flames and explosions, the crowd a sea of black and gold and glitter. Your new addition of a pyro blast during your extended solo during ‘The Weight of Dreams’ already seeming to be a crowd favorite. There were a few hiccups, the brand new monologue before the show of Josh telling a long story about the inner workings of his brain and the meaning of the album cutting out, followed by Josh’s microphone deciding to cut out on him during the first song. 

You knew Logan was rushing around like a crazy person backstage trying to fix it along with the sound techs, but all was well, and everyone tried to keep spirits up. 

You had to admit, you were having a blast. Even with all of the drama and the heartbreak, and being so horribly upset with your little brother, you let it all disappear on stage. You would never think that you were so deeply mad and disappointed in Sam that you contemplated cutting him off completely. You both acted as if nothing had even happened. The fans didn’t deserve that energy. 

The show was proceeding perfectly, until you caught a quick glimpse of Y/N and Logan hamming it up side stage. Luckily, they were on Sam’s side, so you didn’t have to be right there by it, but it was almost like they wanted you to see them. Were you crazy? And why did you even care? 

You thought your insides might explode when you saw her place her hand on his chest, tilting her head back as she laughed. He’s supposed to be working… and the next time you looked, he was gone. Just Y/N and Elle standing together, watching everything play out. Did Elle even have any idea?! 

—

“Excellent show, guys! Well done!” Richard yelled to you as you descended the steps. 

“What turned over your leaf, Dick? You’ve never been that nice to us…” you heard Sam respond, causing the whole group to erupt in snickering laughter. 

“Hey, hey now. I’m just giving credit where credit is due. Don’t mistake my kindness, Mr. Kiszka.” Richard replied as you all rushed down the hallway back to the green room. 

“You just needed to see us play in real life, with a real crowd, not just sound checking, right Dick? I get it. You were impressed. You don’t have to be shy about it!” Danny said, slapping him on the shoulder as you passed him. 

“Yes, Dick! This is how it always happens. It’s okay, you’ll fall in love with us soon…” Josh added. 

You laughed at your brothers, sitting on an absolute high that you hadn’t felt in ages. You were floating down the hall, soaked in sweat and exhaustion flowing through your hands. Your fingertips were throbbing and your ears were ringing, the energy was wild and you knew the smile would be plastered across your face until you fell asleep tonight. You had the best job in the world. 

Everyone made their way back into the room, beginning to change and grab drinks. 

“I gotta go piss I’m getting ready to die!” Sam yelled over the excitement as he scurried away holding himself. You chuckled at him as you inadvertently made eye contact with Elle, the both of you shaking your heads at his display. Fuck you, Sam. I love you, but fuck you. Endlessly. 

Whoa, Elle. Your mind jumbled up really fast, jumping back to that night in Vegas, her straddled across your lap whispering in your ear, you completely unable to take your hands off her…

“Hey!” 

Y/N. Shit. You shook away the intrusive thought. 

“That was…unreal, Jake! You were…amazing. Congratulations…” she said with a shy and straight face, pulling her hair behind her ear as she lightly touched your arm, and walked away. 

“Thanks…” you said, probably barely audible as you watched her walk away.

“There’s the man of the hour! What happened out there, my guy?” Josh yelled as Logan entered the room, holding his hands up in surrender. Logan plopped down on the couch next to Josh, putting his face in his hands. 

“I’m so sorry, guys. I don’t know what happened. I’m working with sound to get it figured out. We’re thinking it may have been a disruption with communication between systems, something easy. I apologize, guys. That shouldn’t have happened. And on my first show!” He said, putting his head in his hands again. 

“All is well, Logan. Don’t beat yourself up.” Danny said. 

“Yeah, but if it ever happens again, you’re fired.” Josh added, laughing as he patted him on the back again. “I’m kidding, I joke!” 

Spirits were extremely high in that little room as you all celebrated like your entire world wasn’t crumbling at the foundation, the love was obvious and you were proud of yourselves. For just a little while, you let yourself be happy. 

—

Everyone made their way back to their respective hotel rooms after piling in the van, all of you still not used to the stamina needed for a show. But you’d get there. You felt a headache coming on, almost like a blinding one right behind your eyes, and you decided it was just the comedown from all the adrenaline. You looked forward to crashing in your bed after a shower. 

You and Y/N were walking into the lobby with the group after she made sure everyone had everything they needed for tomorrow. 

“Sheesh, brother you could at least act like a gentleman and hold her hand to the elevator…” Josh surprised you as he came up between the two of you. Fuck, Josh. 

You glanced to her, her face fallen. You reluctantly grabbed her hand, careful not to lace your fingers, and started off toward the elevator, ignoring Josh’s existence. When the doors finally closed, you let go of her hand, and pulled your phone out to distract yourself. 

“This is exhausting, Jake.” She murmured. 

“I’m fine, what do you mean? No sweat off my brow…” you added, not looking up from your phone. 

She sighed, leaving it at that as you hopped off the elevator and quickly made it to the room, her falling behind. You opened the door and immediately began stripping your clothes off, ready to get in the shower and wash your hair. You were completely nude before you even opened the door to the bathroom, not giving one single fuck if Y/N cared or not. 

You heard her breath catch as she finally came through the door, seeing you naked for the first time in weeks. You let her look, and you stayed completely unphased. You literally couldn’t care less. You grabbed some clean clothes and headed for the bathroom, not saying a word. 

Twenty minutes later, you were both tucked away in your beds, you watching another cooking show and her on her phone. You noticed it was buzzing, incessantly, and it was kind of getting on your nerves. She giggled every few seconds, and was typing away. Who is she texting? Not that you care…

Suddenly she shot up, lifting her t-shirt over her head to reveal her naked top half. You felt your eyes travel to her on their own, taking one quick look at her before retreating back to the TV. God damn, she’s so beautiful. Then she let her shorts fall, revealing her whole naked self. Jesus Christ, Y/N…what are you doing to me…

She nonchalantly pulled a long dress and a sweater from her suitcase, getting dressed as if you weren’t even in the room. You guessed since you let her see you in the flesh earlier, she would let you see her, too. Well played. She gathered her hair up in a low messy bun, effortlessly letting it fall wherever it wanted to. She pulled on some boots, and began to make her way toward the exit. 

“Leaving?” You asked, trying to sound uninterested. 

“Yeah. Meeting a friend at the bar.” She said as she grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder, pulling the heavy door open. “Sweet dreams, Jacob.”

And she was gone. After what you’d just seen, you weren’t sure if your dreams were going to be sweet or not. 

—

The next morning, your headache was considerably worse. You couldn’t make it to the bathroom fast enough to grab your bottle of ibuprofen, praying that it would take away some of the pain. Your whole body ached, like you’d been run over by a semi. Damn, you really were out of shape. You’d only had a couple of drinks last night, hardly even enough to negate a hangover. You swallowed the pills down, chugging a bottle of water behind them. 

You fell back into bed, hoping for an extra half hour or so of sleep before it was time to go again. Y/N had made it back to the room last night; you didn’t even hear her come back in, you must have been sleeping hard. You let your eyes fall closed again, and let your body sink away until your alarm was set to go off. 

—

The medicine had helped a bit, taking away the pain that you felt creeping deep in your bones. You were tired, but felt better than you did last night. You pushed through sound check at the venue in Grand Rapids, and began to mentally prepare yourself for the show again tonight. 

“Jake, you ok?” You heard Danny ask as he sat down beside you on the couch while you strummed away on your acoustic. “You look worn out.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just still a little tired from last night.” You said. 

“Okay, well. It’s only night two. We’ve got a lot ahead of us. You want some water or something?” He asked. 

Damn, maybe you did look worse off than you thought. 

“Nah, man. Thanks. I’ll be alright.” You relayed. 

Just then Y/N popped into the room to tell you it was time to get dressed. You pulled yourself from your seat, feeling dizzy as you did so. You shook it off, and made your way to the next room. 

When you entered, the first thing you saw was Y/N candidly talking to Sam in front of the large wall mirror. What the fuck. Are they speaking? They were smiling, though not their normal selves, you could tell it felt, ordinary. 

You got dressed without a word, seeing them laugh and chat like nothing in the world had happened. You felt the blood in your veins boil, your hearing muffled as you heard her laugh fly across the room. Fuck this. 

You pulled Y/N to the side behind a door in the hall, finally feeling your rage about to topple over. Why were you even mad? 

“What the hell, Jake? What?” She barked as she flipped free of your grasp. 

“What do you mean, what? You’re just being normal as ever with him right in front of me? After everything? Damn, Y/N…we haven’t even all talked about this shit yet and they still have no clue about us and you’re really throwing it in my face like this?” You stammered. 

“Throwing it in your face? Are you serious, Jake?! I thought the agreement was to ‘keep up appearances’, was it not? And to keep things normal, that also entails keeping up appearances with him, too. Right? Would it not? I have to act like Sam and I are still the best of friends…Do you really want Josh and Danny wondering what the fuck is going on twenty minutes before the show? Hm? Elle and Sam having a disaster happen right now?” She spat back, guilty tears filling her eyes. 

“No, we haven’t all talked about this yet. And I don’t know when the right time will be. And I am dying on the inside, Jake. My whole life is fake now, like an act. So unless you want World War III to happen in this dressing room, I suggest you keep up the appearance, too.” She said, making the rage in your system overflow. She’s kinda right. But it’s not fucking fair. 

You let your head fall back and hit the wall with a thud. “What kind of shitshow are we in, Y/N?” 

“A really fucking crappy one. And it’s my fault. And I know that. I’m just trying to…keep things...from imploding…” she went on, crossing her arms over her chest, wiping a tear away. 

“Yeah, it is your fault. Fuck this, I have a job to do.” You trailed off, throwing your hands up, turning to go back into the room. “Just keep lying, Y/N. It’s what you’re best at.”

You felt her following you back into the room, finding everyone dressed and sharing drinks. Appearances. 

You turned and grabbed her, one hand around her waist and the other behind her head, leaning her back low into a dip, and kissed her low and slow right on the lips. The room erupted in ‘oooooh’s’ as they watched. You let it last a few seconds, her entire body stiff in your arms. She let you kiss her, she barely made an effort to kiss you back, solely from the element of surprise. 

When you opened your eyes, you found hers looking back to you with the most wistful and blissed-out look she’d given you in ages. 

“Too bad this means absolutely fucking nothing.” You whispered in her ear before popping her back up to stand. You walked to the mini bar to grab a drink, then you took off down the hallway. 

“Where are you going?” You heard Josh yell. 

“I have something to do.” You hollered back, heading straight to the sound booth to add a certain special song to the setlist. 

—

HER POV

You watched as Jake rushed out of the dressing room, the feeling of his lips on yours still lingering. 

“I’m gonna go see what the fuck that was about, be right back.” Josh said, excusing himself from the room.

“Jeeze, he is really on edge lately.” Elle said, shrugging her shoulders.

You made your way to the bar cart and grabbed a seltzer, popping the lid and chugging the entirety of the mango flavored bubbles.

“Oh so it’s a party?!” Daniel said, walking over to join you.

“Yeah, something like that Danny…” you smiled.

Just then your radio blared into the room, “Lighting, Pyro, Sound, channel 2 for set change.”

Sam and Danny snapped their heads in your direction, clearly confused by the announcement.

“Two! Two go to two!” Sam urged.

You quickly twisted the knob to find channel two catching the tail end of the change.

“...and so we will slot that between Heat Above and Broken Bells. Got that? Pyro, you good man?” you heard Logan's voice ring through the speaker. 

“Yeah, man, give me five and we are set.” the voice replies.

“Lighting, sound, you good?” he asked.

“Yeah, running up with the techs and we are good.” they replied.

“What the fuck change? Shouldn’t we know about this?” Danny snaps.

“Where’s Josh, does he know?!” Sam asks.

You switch back to the main channel, and hear the chatter beginning. Suddenly Jake and Josh burst through the door, and Josh makes a beeline straight to the bar cart.

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes Jacob.” Josh snaps, pouring the tequila into his silver tumbler. “You have to talk to us about this shit. You can’t just spring it on us!”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, if you remember correctly.” he chides.

You grab Elle’s hand and pull her out the door with you, needing to let them hash this out privately.

“What the hell is going on?!” she asks.

“I think Jake made a setlist change but didn’t talk to any of them about it first? I’m not sure, that’s just what I'm piecing together.” you answer, walking her out to the side stage to listen to the openers finish up.

“Damn, he has seemed really off lately.” she says. 

If she only knew.

“He has been. Ever since Vegas. He can’t seem to shake it.” you admit.

“Is he like…upset about…everything?” she asks.

“Not particularly that. I think he is just still… processing everything that happened. It was a lot for him.” you say, knowing its only partially true.

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I would have never–”

“No. Don’t apologize. If anyone should be apologizing it should be me. I kind of pushed the issue…” you say.

“Five minutes to stage…” the call rings through the radio.

“Oh, are we gonna stand side stage tonight? Or should we do seats?” she asks.

“Actually, seats sound good tonight.” you reply.

“Lemme give Sammy a kiss and we can go okay?” she says sweetly. 

Your heart twists in your chest, knowing you should probably do the same with Jake. Unfortunately it means more to you than it does to him. He’s made that very clear.

The intro starts playing and the guys all congregate on the side of the stage, the energy still strange between all of them, and the smell of their pre-show shot, filling your nose.

You watch Elle bound over to Sam, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. He pulls her tightly into him, as he kisses her back. “Good luck baby! We will be up in the seats tonight, okay? Look for me?” she asks.

You wince at the sweet nod he gives her as she releases herself from him and joins your side.

“You gonna kiss your man or what? I want to see the curtain drop!” she bounces.

Jake looks over to you and you watch him swallow as he steps over to you grabbing his guitar from his tech with his free hand.

You lace your fingers around his neck and pull him towards you, gently pressing your lips to his in a sweet and gentle kiss. His tongue barely swipes your lip and you open your mouth just enough to let it in. His free hand grabs your waist and pulls you against him just for a second before he steps back.

“Break a leg…” you whisper.

His eyes linger on yours just for a second, before looking away and stepping up the stairs to take the stage.

Elle grabs your hand and pulls you away towards the seating area and you both walk quickly to try and make it to a set of empty seats before the curtain falls. But with a final look over your shoulder you see him, still watching as you walk away.

—

The first half of the show was electric, the crowd knew every word to every song. You saw the guys searching the crowd for the two of you, Sam making a special effort to smile at Elle throughout the entirety of the first half. Jake caught your gaze a few times, a serious look on his face as he put all of his effort into his craft. 

The show reached the middle point, and you watched as Jake’s tech swapped his guitar for his acoustic. You furrowed your brow, unsure of why since the set didn’t call for an acoustic song. 

This must be the change he made.

Sam began on the keys, as Josh introduced the song, “This next one is about the simplicity of love, and how accessible it is…”

Oh no.

And then, with no warning at all, you were stabbed straight in the heart. Jake began strumming the opening chords, his long hair dusting across his shoulders as he put everything he had into it.

‘Babe, ain’t no denyin’... that I’ve got you in my head…’

Jake no…

‘Girl, I'd be flyin'...If you stood yourself and said’

‘You're the one I want…You're the one I need…’

‘You're the one I had…So come on back to me…’

Your heart began to pump harder than you’ve ever felt. Your breathing picking up as you felt your eyes start to fill with tears. Why did he do this?

You fix your eyes upon him, waiting for him to look at you. Just look at me Jake. Tell me you aren’t giving up on me.

“Oh my god babe, it’s your song. How sweet!” Elle says, completely unknowing that he isn’t playing this because he loves you. No he’s playing this because he wants to hurt you. Show you what you lost.

Your mind is screaming out to him. Look at me Jake!

You watch as he makes certain to never look in your direction. He sings the lyrics with Josh, even closing his eyes as his head turns towards you. He refuses to even see you. 

A single tear slips out of your eye as the song ends. This was his goodbye.

—

You're fairly certain you didn’t speak for the rest of the show, or even after. You just sat, numb, watching the world continue to spin around you. You sat watching as he carried on with his life normally as if he didn’t just tear yours apart.

You tried to distract yourself, cleaning up the green room, hanging their outfits, anything really so that you didn’t have to talk to anyone. You knew the second you did, it would be over, and the tears would flow once again.

As it came time to load up the vans, you were the last to get in, sitting next to Elle.

“What’sa matter babe? You feelin’ okay?” she asks, nudging you.

You nod quickly, and place your hand on her leg, patting it gently. She places her hand on top of yours and continues her conversation with Sam. It wasn’t too far of a drive back to the hotel, and you were thankful, knowing you were going straight to the room and straight to bed. You wanted this nightmare to end. 

As you arrived out front, you all got out and listened as you heard everyone making plans to hit up the bar in the lobby for a nightcap. Elle begged you to join, but after explaining that you hadn’t been sleeping well, she let it go, and hugged you tight.

You walked towards the elevator, Jake catching your shoulder as you passed him.

“Hey. Gonna grab a few drinks then I’ll be up, okay?” he says, purely out of formality.

“Yeah.” you reply completely deadpan, continuing towards the elevator. He stands, looking at you as you walk away, as you look over your shoulder.

You step into the freezing cold room, and immediately burst into the tears you’ve been holding back all night. You couldn’t fix this. It was done. It was over and it was all your fault.

—

The clock reads 12:37am, as you hear the hotel room door shut. He must be back.

You can hear him grumbling as he tries to undress himself in the dark, and change into a t-shirt. What you also hear is the cough creeping up his throat that he’s trying to choke back. 

You lay there in the dark, watching his shadowy figure move across the room, grabbing a bottle of water and shaking a few pills out of a medicine bottle. 

He sniffles as he twists the lid on the water bottle, and you hear him groan as he tips the bottle to his lips.

He walks over to the bed, plugging in his phone and tying up his hair before sliding into the bed with a sigh.

He coughs again, and it sounds bad. It sounds deep in his chest, wet and painful.

You roll over to your side to face him. His face illuminated by the glow of his phone screen.

“Jake?” you ask, voice soft yet thick with sleep.

His head snaps over towards you, obviously unaware that you were awake.

“What.” he replies, a certain slur to his tone, an obvious indication he had been drinking.

“Are you sick? That cough sounds bad.” you say.

“No. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” he snaps.

“Are you sur–”

“I’m fine. Drop it.” he says.

“Sorry.” you reply meekly.

He rolls over onto his side, resting his head on his elbow as he continues to scroll through his phone. You watch as he studies it, just the sight of his tired face making you want to cry.

His eyes flick up to look at you, “So how was the show tonight?” he asks, with a smirk.

Your chest shakes as you think about what he did, “You know how it was Jake. It was awful...” you say, through shaky breaths.

“Really, I thought it was a great show…” he says with a smirk.

“Why did you do it Jake? Why did you add that? Just to hurt me? To dig at me some more, like every day isn’t a living fucking nightmare?” you beg.

“Why?” he asks rhetorically, “Because I felt like it. Thought someone might actually appreciate a love song for what it means.”

“You wouldn’t even look at me!” you cry.

“I know. It wasn’t for you. It probably never will be again.” he snaps.

“Jake… the kiss? You… I know you feel it when we kiss! It may be an act, but I know you still feel it! I can feel it in your kiss and your touch…Your words may say one thing but your body is telling me another...” you plead.

“Didn’t feel shit, actually.” he replies, “Like I’ve said about ten times now, I’m doing all of this as a convenience to myself of not having to explain what happened, and to you, not having to embarrass yourself in front of everyone. It means nothing.” 

JAKE POV

“Jake, how fucking long are we going to keep doing this? How long are you going to keep treating me like this?” She asked. 

“Damn it, it’s either we keep up this charade, or you leave and find another job. Go back home. Take your pick, Y/N.” You responded, spitting the words a bit more harshly than you intended, but knowing they would have the desired effect. 

She sat up hard on the bed. “I just want it all to go away. I want us all to come clean and talk about this. The tension is so thick, all the time…there’s no way people haven’t noticed yet, Jake. We can only keep this up for so long…” she said quietly. 

“Then let’s go! Let’s go to Sam and Elle’s room! Let’s go sit them down and talk about it. Right now. You can tell Elle that you fucked her man while she was throwing up the other night. Sound good? I’ll text him right now…” you said, grabbing your phone. 

“NO, Jake. Not right now. You’ve all been drinking, now is not the time. This conversation needs to happen, when we have some time and some space. And I think…” 

“You think what, Y/N?” You said. 

“I think it needs to come from Sam. I will take half the blame when he tells her, too, but… He needs to bite that bullet, not me.” She said sternly. 

It didn’t make much sense in your head, but you could see where it would mean a lot more coming from him than it would Y/N. Sam needed to man up. 

“I guess. But this charade is fucking killing me, too, Y/N. Do you think I like holding your hand and sitting by you and kissing you in public right now? Pretending everything is okay? After knowing what you did? And Sam seeing us be that way, when he thinks I’m still oblivious? Damn good thing I picked up on Josh’s acting techniques in middle school.” You said. “Makes me feel like a fucking idiot when all I want to is throw Sam through a damn wall and tell him I know what he did. What you did.”  You shook your head. 

“Jake, please. If you’d just listen to me when I tell you I love you so m-”

“Stop, Y/N! Stop saying you love me! It makes everything so much worse! Please just stop saying it when I know it’s not true…” it was starting to grind on you hearing those words that used to be sacred, coming from her mouth. “I don’t want to hear it anymore, okay? Just stop.”

She sat silently for a few beats. “You used to look at me like I was the only thing you saw in the room. Now it’s like… I’m a piece of trash you don’t want to bother even picking up.”

“That’s about as close as you could get, Y/N.”

Fuck. Ouch. 

Here came the tears. “So now I’m trash to you, huh? Good. Great.”

No, you’re not trash. You’re all I ever wanted in the world, tainted by a really fucked up and irreversible decision. 

“Here we go with the crying again, shit.” You complained. You turned on the bed, pulling the covers down to place yourself inside, the headache bounding back like a hammer to the skull, and the itch in your throat gnawing at you,  “Just remember, I had nothing to do with your shit decision, Y/N. It’s all on you.” 

“You know what? No. I’m never going to stop telling you I love you. Because I do. I do and I always will. I love you and I miss you and I will never ever stop. I just…miss you Jake. I miss every single thing about you.” she cries.

“What do you mean. I can’t get like, two seconds away from you.” you quip.

“I miss you!… the things about you that only I know…” she pauses, catching her breath. 

“I miss…seeing your eyes change colors when the light hits them, turning them perfectly amber in the sun…how you sing along to albums when you’re cooking, I can always tell which song was your favorite on the album…I miss watching you drive us around with just your one hand on the steering wheel…I can never look away…I miss how your fingers tapped on me while you kissed me, but only when you had other intentions. ” she pauses. You feel your heart drop into your stomach.

“I miss hearing your voice go up an octave when you talk about guitar or your music, because you are just so passionate about it…I miss seeing how bright your smile is when you’re around babies, you smile with all of your teeth….I miss thinking about you and how you’ve gotten so much better at listening to Josh and Sam figure things out instead of speaking over them…you learned patience and it’s admirable…I miss watching you flip all of your hair over before you put it in a bun, and letting me run my fingers through it when you take it down….I miss sitting on the couch with you and watching your fingers subconsciously play the notes to the songs running through your mind…” she continues.

You feel your eyes well with tears and your throat start to burn. Are these really all things she loves? She notices these things?

“But the thing that I miss the most is the way your voice sounds when you tell me you love me. I know I’ll never hear it again, but… I will always remember the way it sounded.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, and you swiped it away quickly, not wanting her to see that she broke you. You did love her, but she was right, you weren’t sure if you would ever say it again.

She stayed quiet while she fought her own tears again, you could tell she was trying her best to dry them up. 

“You don’t have to push me away anymore, Jake. I get it. I’ll go along with the games. But I just want you to know I’m always going to tell you I love you, because I do. And whether or not you feel it in return is up to you.” She said, rolling to her side and pulling the blankets over her shoulders. 

You took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. It hurt. It really did hurt.

“Goodnight…” you heard her breathe. 

“Night.” You answered as short as you could manage. 

You laid there staring at the ceiling for a while, letting your mind replay all the instances she mentioned, the lump in your throat forming quickly. Stay strong Jake. Turning over to your side to let your eyes close you sighed into the pillow as you let your body relax. 

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you reached your hand behind you to pull it off the charger. Who the fuck. You squinted with one eye, the brightness of the screen making your head hurt worse. 

Elle

12:59am: Hey, Jake. Sorry to bother you so late. I know things have been a little weird since Vegas, and I just wanted to apologize to you if I stepped over any boundaries with you that night. I had had way too much to drink, and barely remember the details of anything that happened. Hope all is well.🤍

Whoa, what the fuck? Boundaries? 

You

1:02am: Thanks Elle, but what do you mean exactly? 

Elle 

1:04am: I had a really good time that night, and I hope you guys did too. But I hope you don’t take my actions as the kind of person I really am. And I hope I didn’t do anything to make you or Y/N uncomfortable. 

You

1:06am: Elle, don’t take this the wrong way, but I had too much to drink that night, too. I hardly remember much until I started searching for Josh and Daniel and I sobered up a bit…

Elle

1:09am: Well, I know you and I got pretty…close...if you know what I mean. I know things were getting hot and heavy, and I may have come on too strong, but we were both into it, I guess? And Sam and Y/N were also in their own little world. 

Fuck…hot and heavy… 

The thoughts of that night were buried deep, they were blurry anyway, and you’d be lying if you said you really had brought them up to yourself at all. You kept them buried… You remembered Elle straddled across you at one point, your hands exploring her body in every way except those ways…kissing, talking…wanting her…

You sighed, typing the text out as your stomach fell, and your palms got sweaty. 

You

1:11am: You didn’t come on too strong. Please don’t blame yourself. I remember feeling pretty into it, too. Did we…almost…did we talk about taking it further?

You hesitated hitting send, but you were already in this far…

Elle

1:14am: Yeah, we did. We talked about it. Do you not remember what you said? 

Suddenly, the memories started to clear their way back into your head…

‘Jake. You don’t have to lie…I can tell you’re into her, too…shit, look at her…I would be. I can see whatever is happening between you two…I’m not mad baby…’

Oh god…

‘Fine. Yeah I want to fuck her. I want to fuck her, badly. But you know you’re my girl.’

Oh no…were these thoughts real…no…

Elle

1:16am: Well, without going into too much detail, you basically said you wanted to sleep with me... and we were going to kind of…feel out Y/N and Sam and see what their thoughts were…

‘What if we….what about a free pass, babe… If that’s what you want…go for it. I trust you, I trust Elle.’

Fuck fuck fuck…you felt your heart begin to race at the realization…

‘Asking Sam, that’s another story, but. I promise you, it’s not something that would make me mad, look at us. Look what we’re doing right now…’

The memory was fuzzy still, but you remembered whispering to Elle while feeling her pressed up against you, chest to chest… ‘One way or another…’

No, no fucking way…you’d told Elle that you wanted to sleep with her. You remembered now, plain as day. You’d planned on it, and she was all for it. You slammed your phone down on the bed, the headache rushing back as the blood drained from your body. You rolled to your back, your hands covering your face as you listened to Y/N’s light breathing as she slept. 

You felt awful, absolutely devastatingly horrible. You’d treated Y/N like she was nothing, talked down to her worse than you ever should have. She wasn’t completely innocent in this situation, but now you knew, neither were you. Though you didn’t act on it, you had intentions to. And you’d talked to Y/N about it. If you hadn't gotten that phone call, what would have happened? Your conversation was cut off short, you were both unable to finish it. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck. 

You looked over to her, her face peaceful as she breathed, her hair all over the place. You grabbed your phone, texting Elle back. She still didn’t know about Y/N and Sam. 

1:19am

You: Damn it. Was that the extent of it? 

1:22am

Elle: Yeah, that was it. Then you got the phone call, you left and the three of us kept messing around a bit, but nothing more than what was already happening. Then I got sick and passed out. 

Then they went to the stairwell, apparently. 

1:25am

You: Ah, I see. I’m so sorry, Elle. I hope you didn’t think that I had come on too strong, either. But thank you for reminding me, I honestly had little to no memory of anything until you jogged it. I’m sure one day we’ll all sit down and talk about this together. 

You wanted to tell her that she was gorgeous and great, and yes, you were very attracted to her that night. Still were, honestly. Lots of ends were left untied that night, lots of questions unanswered.  That night in Vegas was one for the books, showing you a world you never thought you’d find yourself a part of. But unbeknownst to Elle, a fun night of debauchery had turned into something a lot more sinister. A lot more heartbreaking. But for now, you’d help keep her in the dark until Sam decided he would tell her. 

1:28am

You: Thanks for a really fun night, though. I enjoyed myself :) 

1:29am

Elle: Absolutely. Me too :)

You plugged your phone back into the charger, rolling back to physically punch yourself in the forehead for your bad decision, for how you’d been treating Y/N, and for how damn bad your headache was. You were almost just as guilty. You’d basically emotionally cheated. And if you were being honest, even if Y/N and Sam had played it off that they didn’t want it to happen, would you have listened? You shook the intrusive thoughts away again, truly questioning yourself. You couldn’t answer. 

The only thing you knew for sure right now was that you were sorry. You were so full of remorse for being this way toward Y/N, telling her to stop telling you she loved you only moments before you learned that you were most likely willingly going to take things further with Elle. There were still conversations to be had. Things to work through, and you knew you were valid in your feelings of being mad about what she and Sam did. This was going to take time and effort, and you still had much to ponder on. You were still very upset. 

A double-edged sword. Both sides slicing away at you. Digging into your heart. 

You removed yourself from under the blankets, and slowly walked over to Y/N’s bed, feeling like all you wanted to do was hold her close. You lifted the blankets and slid in behind her, wrapping your arms around her just like you had in your sleep the other night, except this time, you knew exactly what you were doing. 

In her sleep, she pushed back into you, her body fitting perfectly into yours as you cuddled her, finding her hand again, and interlacing your fingers with hers. She stirred a little as she moved to you, positioning herself in her perfect little spoon spot. You breathed in the smell of her hair, floral and fruity and perfect, and you let yourself relax. When she didn’t stir again, you knew she was back into deep sleep. Lying your face snug in the crook of her neck, you began to drift off. 

Once you knew it was safe and that she would never know, a whisper barely above a breath escaped you as you dug your face deeper into her hair. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you too. ‘Til the day I die.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Vigilance: The Outtakes - Rekindled

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[steveharringtonat3am]

The Nursery

wc: 874

warnings: pregnant!reader, regular dad!eddie fluff!

“I can’t believe we’re having a girl…” You mumble to yourself, gently rubbing your bump. Eddie takes his eyes off the road for a second, grinning at you.

“I can! I may not know the first thing about girls but with you as her mom? She’ll be the most metal baby ever.” You laugh as he pulls into the apartment’s parking garage. He hops out quickly, rushing over to your side to help you down.

“Baby I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”

“If you’re carrying my baby, you might as well be made of paper. And I’m not taking any chances.” He keeps a firm grip on you as you head upstairs, not letting you go for a second.

When you finally get inside, Eddie relaxes a bit. Unfortunately, this news means way more work.

“So now we get to decorate the nursery!” You grin, pulling him into the room you both has designated for the baby.

“Woah woah woah. I think you mean I am decorating the nursery. You are going to be sitting down and relaxing.”

You instantly pout in response, and he smiles.

“Come on Eddie! I can handle it!” You even pull out the puppy-dog eyes and with a sigh, he folds.

“Fine. You can help me paint. But no ladders.” He wags his finger at you, making you laugh.

“Okay! As long as I can pick the colour.”

“Oh of course you’re doing that! I don’t know the first thing about decorating a nursery.” He winks.

You end up choosing a soft green for the room, deciding of a fairy theme to appease the nerd in Eddie. He of course had jumped at the idea, excited to fill the room with baby-friendly trinkets to “complete the vibe.”

“Well don’t you just look adorable!” Eddie comments at your painting outfit, consisting of a pair of old overalls already covered in paint from past endeavors, and a sports bra.

“You’re one to talk!” You gesture to his shirtless form, completed with black ripped jeans and a flannel around his waist.

“Ah ah ah…my look hasn’t reached it’s final form!” He puts the paintbrush between his teeth, tying his hair back into a bun.

“Oh wow…is it possible for me to get more pregnant?” You pretend to fan yourself while he smirks.

“I hope so!” He pulls you close, kissing you deeply. You melt into it, letting yourself relax in his arms. Eddie’s hand runs from the small of your back up to the nape of your neck, gently squeezing in a quick massage.

“Okay okay let’s-let’s start painting?” You mumble against his lips and he hums in response.

“Fine…but we are continuing this later!” He playfully swats your ass, making you giggle. You grab the large roller but of course Eddie takes it away. He replaces it with the smaller roller, smiling softly.

“You have to be careful, princess. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He kisses your cheek before bending to kiss your bump.

“And I also don’t want you getting hurt, pumpkin! So be good for mommy.” He pats your bump and your heart swells with affection.

You had known Eddie would be an incredible father but throughout your pregnancy he had just proved you more and more right. He was kind and attentive and made this whole process so much easier. You just couldn’t wait to finally have your little girl in your arms.

Music fills the air and you turn to see Eddie fiddling with his speaker. He’s banging his head along as he grabs the roller, winking at you as he soaks it in paint. You smile at his antics, humming along to the music as you keep painting.

Hours later, you’ve eaten two sandwiches, peed four times, and only painted half the room. You know the second you admit you’re tired Eddie will insist you take a nap, leaving him to paint the rest of the nursery alone. So you decide to push past it.

“This colour looks so great babe!” He kisses your cheek quickly. You smile back, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“I’m glad you think so sweetie.” You can’t suppress your yawn any longer and he wraps his arms around you, kissing your shoulder.

“How about you go take a nap baby. I can finish up here.”

“No no I-I don’t wanna leave you here to do all this by yourself…” Your protests are futile, as you can barely keep your eyes open.

“I’ll be fine. Come on go lay down yeah?” He takes the brush, letting it fall into the tray of paint. You don’t argue as he guides you to the bedroom, pulling off your paint covered clothes before helping you lay down.

“You take a nice long nap okay baby? I’ll finish painting and make dinner.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling the blanket up to your chin. You fall asleep quickly once the door shuts behind him, and you only have one thought on your mind.

‘I really married well.’

[satoruzlove]

hello! i recently found your account and i love every bits of stories you write! can i request something like atsumu, sakusa, and suna having an underground garage with over 12 cars or more? and their s/o jokingly claims that they love them only because of their money and cars? lol idk, you can decide about the other details. i would just love to read something like this. i hope you understand my messy and clumsy imagination :' )

i hope you have a good day/night! merry christmas also! 🥰❤️‍🔥

-🫧

I LITERALLY SAW THIS AND DIIIIEEED ANON CUS I RLY LIKE THIS IDEA, and THANK U MWAAAH IM SO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING <333 HUGS & SUGAR COOKIES 4 U. i’m sorry about how fawking late this is & i rly hope u do like this- it took me a whole while to rly grasp what i wanted to do with this glorious prompt, i wrote a lot these past few days BUT WHATEVER HERE U ARE MY WONDERFUL BUBBLE ANON ( cute af choice btw)

LET ME RIDE ?

[k. sakusa , r. suna , a. miya ]

- suggestive at some parts , boys with cars, praising and touchiness ( kiyoomi ) , alcohol and FLIRTINGGG ( atsumu’s ), friends to lovers & lots of tension ( rintarou ) , also kiyoomi is called a sugar daddyLMAO but he isn’t i swear -

KIYOOMI SAKUSA ::

your boyfriend is meticulous in every aspect of his life. his looks, his health, his belongings- everything. from the way he keeps his clothing folded to how he cares for his multiple expensive , beautiful race cars. as a pro athlete it’s expected of him to have such things , but you��d never expect to see how he handles them with such care - almost as if they were people. he gets them serviced and checked every other month, and polishes the luxurious leather of the seats frequently. when you two were dating, he often picked you up from work in different cars each time - claiming to want to make you look like you were some kind of vip. although, whenever you requested to drive one of them, he’d give you a look. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, he just knew that you couldn’t drive for shit and there’s no way he letting you do trial and error on his multi million dollar mobile.

that’s how you got here ; standing beside him as he folds away some of his summer clothes and practically begging him to let you drive one of his babies. “i’ll even let you tell me how to drive, kiyo, you can be my instructor,” you whine softly. he muttered a ‘nope’ popping the ‘p’ to emphasise his adamancy on the topic. you tugged his shirt sleeve, nearly forcing his dark eyes onto you- before he even knew it, he was convinced. the thick lashes surrounding the swimming, sparkly pool of your irises bored up at him only interrupted momentarily by you blinking.kiyoomi’s eyebrows crunched , mimicking the way his heart squeezed in his chest, despite knowing you just wanted to use his car. he let out a loud, dramatic sigh before running a hand over his face. “fine, you can use one. i will be there, i will tell you what to do and i definitely will stop you if you screw up,okay?” your boyfriend bossed. you smiled up at him, “nono! you can just teach me yourself, i’ll pretend i don’t even have my license,” and when you saw the bored look on his face you added to your statement,” to y’know, ease your mind.”

kiyoomi poked his cheek with his tongue , only to stop a smile from forming on his face. “go get dressed into like,” he paused for a second, his tone questioning when he continued, “..driving clothes..?” and you laughed at that. happily you got dressed and headed to the lowest level of your two story house- the underground.as the sleek metal doors opened, multiple shiny, elegant cars came into view but kiyoomi made a beeline for one in particular. she was black, a two seater that had neon green highlights on her gorgeous sides. “ porshe 2022 911 gt3,” he muttered, slender fingers lightly brushing over the glossy hood. you gawk for a second, “ i have no idea what that is, but holy shit,” you mutter. he huffs a laugh before unlocking the machine.

you hop into the drivers seat, and kiyoomi stares you down. you nearly choke under his gaze , “ don’t tell me you changed your mind,” you challenge him. he laughs- heartily almost- until a smirk overcomes his pretty face. “ you said i could teach you, didn’t you? get up. you’re gonna be on my lap.” his tone is smooth, weight panging in your tummy as you process what he said. your hands hesitantly slide off the steering wheel, allowing him to get in. he adjusts his weight with his hips, hands resting on his upper thighs until he pats them. “ come,” he says, “ sit , we don’t have all day.”

you oblige, your own thighs caged by his as his hands find home on yours. he’s guiding them to the wheel, you observe. “ i’ll worry about clutch, acceleration and breaks. you just steer and change gears for me , okay?” you notice his tone is soft, gentle because of how close he is to your ear. his breath hovers right over the shell of your ear. you nod, and he turns the key in the ignition. little lights and buttons exert an array of colour- almost tempting you to press them. he revs the engine - a low, prolonged echo ringing throughout the underground garage and vibrating your intertwined forms. you close your eyes and soon you come to understand just why your boyfriend loves his cars.

“you know,” you mutter, head dropping onto his shoulder, “‘might steal this thing and flee the fuckin’ country. it feels so-,”,” freeing, huh?” he practically steals the words from your mouth. you nod, smiling breathlessly, “ exactly,” before continuing ,” maybe you being away so much isn’t that bad , considering how my friends think you’re my sugar daddy,” and your boyfriend scoffs. a thick, black brow raised,” atsumu was right, you really do want me for my money.” kiyoomi chuckles, earning another giggle from you. dreamily , you sigh, “ absolutely, you’re my lovely little sugar daddy,” kiyoomi’s body shakes with laughter and his dimples cave in- you swear you get butterflies every time they do.the warm up light on the car goes off and from that point , the drive was smooth sailing.

you didn’t go far , seeing as your house was quite far from anything else , you had a lot of room. you drove mainly around your area. you two had come to a park, very secluded and probably privately owned, and you parallel parked. kiyoomi’s lowered his head , muttering a ,” you’re really good at this, dunno why i was so worried. even i struggle to parallel park sometimes,” he admits shyly. you smile, but you don’t miss the way he gazes at you as your eyes train on the park just outside the window. as soon as your head turns, you’re met with kiyoomi. his lips on yours. your lover’s hand is on the back of your head- guiding you like he was as you drove- and his latter hand on your waist. for a moment he broke away, nose smushing against yours. “did so good for me today,” he muttered against you. you had no time to reply or even be surprised at his remark, as he dove in for another kiss. this one was hungrier, more passionate and less shy than before. of course, you followed the pace happily.

his lips left yours with a deep exhale , “ move to the passenger seat,” he instructed, “‘ wanna get us home real fast, gonna continue this in a more comfortable setting, yeah?” and as you moved, tumbling over the gear stick and quickly plopping yourself onto said seat, “gonna take my time with you, yn.” you heard from kiyoomi as he revved the car once more. you were definitely in for a ride.

SUNA RINTAROU ::

suna rintarou is your best friend. you’ve known eachother since child hood and have gone through absolute hell together. puberty, your first crushes, the trauma’s of young adulthood, dealing with the miya twins. you started liking him in middle school, only ever telling aran about it and swearing him to secrecy. you couldn’t tell if suna liked you, you knew that if he did feel the same he’d never tell you, because that’s how he was. any person he’s ever entertained had the same complaint , that he didn’t know how to express his feelings properly and they couldn’t take how badly he blows at communicating.

you don’t understand, and you could never ; because he knows how to communicate with you. you two have an inexplainable bond- and he doesn’t feel the suffocating, degrading feeling in his chest when he talks to you about how he feels. he trusts you with everything. he always has, he has no trouble telling you.

he trusts you with everything, except his cars. all 11 of them.

which is why you slapped his arm when he showed you his underground garage , claiming to ‘ wanna show you something really, really cool ’ he wasn’t lying. his black t shirt seemed to look godly under the stage lights of his garage, as he strolled next to you- taking in his collection and carefully watching your pupils blow in awe. “ you’re such a dick, rin,” you laugh, “ i can’t believe you kept this from me, knowing damn well i’d give my left tit to drive one of these” he snorts, head throwing back and eyes scrunching at your choice of words. he comes to a halt infront of a shimmery, matt- finished car. you eyes drag over the hood, the cat- like head lights and your eyes scrunch up in delight at the ‘ mommy’s boy’ sticker barely in sight. “ it’s a-“,” mclaren, 765lt right ?”

his moss green eyes betray the stoic look on his face. they widen, sparkling in amusement. “ i always forget that you have no friends and read all day,” he feigns a sugary sweet tone. you shove him by the hip, toddling over to the passenger seat. “stop being an ass and take me for a drive.” you sigh. rin tries to ignore how right it feels to have you in his passenger seat , the way his mind quickly flicks images of you two going out at odd hours for icecream, his hand in a wedding ring- your wedding ring- on the gear stick. “ rintarou, come back to earth!” you bark laughter, now infront of him. his eyes screw shut and widen, he hadn’t even realised that he zoned out. he’s looking down at you, eyebrows raised as he attempts to ease out of his daze.

“stop being so bossy, you little tree stump,” he mumbles, making his way to the driver’s side door. it slides open smoothly, and he practically jumps inside. as you do the same, a smell- his smell- envelopes you. old spice and a tinge of something sweet. you both reach for the radio at the same time, and as his hand makes contact with yours he nearly jumps away as if your hands were a burning hot coal. he clears his throat, starting the car and ignoring the furious flutter i the pit of his stomach. you connect your phone, skipping through your playlist. you finally choose a song, and rintarou swears he could fall over and giggle like a little girl at your choice.

“love you like a brother, treat you like a friend,

respect you like a lover, oh,oh,oh”

your best friend’s eyes flit over to yours, only for him to spot you lip syncing the words of the song. as he pulls out the drive way he imagines you- calling him your lover, holding him, kissing him, being his. he smiles softly when you turn to him, lip syncing the words with conviction. “ if you be the cash, i’ll be the rubber band,” you mumble along with the song, hands coming out to poke him to punctuate your words. he mirrors you, eyebrows lifting as he sings.”painter baby you could be the muse, im the reporter baby-,” you two look at eachother in unison, your hands finding his cheeks,” you could be the news,” and for a moment, he doesn’t realise that you’re holding him so sweetly.

when the chorus comes, you two sit in silence as he pulls over to a mcdonald’s drive through. it’s quiet,lights of the glowing sign washing you with hues of colour and making you look of another world. you turn to him, boredly saying, “ you’re not so bad if we get to do this ,” and he rolls his eyes. he clicks his tongue , “ you’re literally like inlove with me, shut up,” he jests. your eyes don’t move for a moment, neither does your body, until you mutter a ‘true’ and turn away like it’s nothing.

rintarou waits for you to make a joke- but you don’t.

his face is pink, your tone was so genuinely that he could believe what you said. that he could think you’re being serious. he sips his sprite, “ good.” he replies to you. whether you were kidding or not, it’s a safe response. you sit there in silence for hours, and for once, rintarou isn’t properly communicating with you ; because he values you too much. too much to lose you, too much to love you, because he doesn’t know how. he’ll take you for drives as much as you want- forever even- if it means he gets to keep you.

ATSUMU MIYA ::

you and your lover stumbled into his mansion, a heap of giggles and whiskey flavoured kisses. atsumu’s grip on your hips is hard, loving , equal parts stable as he ushers you down to his garage. the blond smiles at you, lovesick, “thank you for coming back with me, sweet cheeks,” he mumbles. you giggle, eyes shiny and doe like- not a single thought behind them- “ thank you for inviting me, tsumu,” you mewl in response. he grows tired of stumbling and picks you up, earning a girly giggle, and practically running down the stairs with you. “ tsumu!” you laugh heartily, tears in your eyes as he nearly falls but somehow manages to keep you off the ground. he gets up sloppily, converse squeaking against marble floors right before he enters the garage. the man puts you down, planting a disgustingly wet kiss on your cheek and rubbing it with his large, calloused thumb.

he spreads his beefy arms, “ welcome to my pride and joy,” he stumbles a bit, “ apart from you, and my dog, my babies of course” he smiles. your lips part in awe looking at them all, and he smirks with pride. you feel playful - “ glad i gave you a chance, babes, this is really impressive. might just marry you for all this,” you say. he raises his eyebrows, a smile on his face and the apples of his cheeks rising, closing the gap between you he gets so close that you smell your favorite champaigne on his breath. “well baby, if it’s the money you want i’ll give it you. cant say ‘no’ to the prettiest baby in the world, can i?” his eyes are glazed under the influence, but his tone sounds so kind. so tender with you. you knew that atsumu would put the ocean in the sky for you, but something about him saying made you fall for him again. your blond lover melts at the blush on your cheeks, and backs away again.

when he drags you to a car you pull him to a halt. “ tsum,” you say, “ we can’t drive- we had alcohol,” you say. atsumu laughs , grabbing your neck gently and placing yet another sloppy kiss on your cheek, “ i wanna make out with you in my car, honeybunch, not drive,” he slurs. he gets in the back seat,hauling you onto his thick thighs and kneading at your hips. “ so gorgeous, so handsome , so perfect for me,” he says in-between kisses placed lovingly on your puffy lips. “ my good baby, my baby.” he’s babbling, mindlessly saying whatever his heart desires, “ mine, mine, mine,” he continues, like a mantra , sacred and ancient- like the only thing that he knows.

he kisses your lips hungrily and squeezes your sides, as if to keep you and this moment in his grasp forever. the leather under you is hot with passion and affection, the most innocent lust he’s ever felt because you are worth everything. whether it’s all his money or his entire soul- he’d give it all to you.

brain went wOmp for sakusa’ s i’m not sureeee how i feel. also not proofread cus my phone is dying but i rly rly like atsumu’s like woah. tbh i’m JUST NOT SURE ABOJT KIYOOOOOOMIS AAAAAAA but this was fun af !!! kiss kiss fall inlove

[kindnessisweakness2]

8

Cara spent the rest of the night wrapped up in juice, getting to know all she could about the man she instantly deemed sex on legs. Emily however quietly slipped away into the garage on her own. She sighed in relief as she slumped down on a stool leaning against the large red tool box behind her. The cool metal dug into the bare skin of her back, slightly painful but the cold was relieving. She still couldn't get over the nerve of Noah. Part of her really believed he would never leave her alone. Some weird attachment thing, wanting to be her first and last. She scoffed at the thought, he would've been if she never found out the truth. The ugly painful memories wouldn't leave her brain. Since everything happened she hadn't stopped questioning herself. Did she do something wrong? Was it the way she looked? The bright hair and tattoos. The way she dressed maybe? Or it was just her. Boring, lazy Emily. She never does any thing exciting. Rather stay home, read a good book, binge watch a TV Show or cook. "What are you doing in here?" Gemma's voice made her jump. "Fuck!" Emily held her hand to her heart as if it would ease the pounding. "Sorry I was just hiding. Needed a minute. I haven't touched any thing, not snooping don't worry." Emily held her hands up and walked towards the door to leave. "My son seems to be quite smitten with you." The words made her freeze and turn to face the charming legend that was Gemma Teller. Emily had heard the whispers about her. The fiercly protective mother hen. All the girls on Jax's fling list striving for his mothers approval, all but kissing the ground she walked on, hoping she would whisper in her son's ear about how good of an old lady they would make. But Gemma had yet to properly get to know Emily. And when she did she would realise that she wasn't going to bow down to no one. The way she was raised, your respect was earned and you handled your own shit. Head held high no matter how many swings life took at you. "Don't worry mama bear, I'm not looking to worm my way in to your family. He's just being nice since everything happened with Noah." Gemma raised a knowing eyebrow at the young girl as she continued her rant. "Your son strolls around Charming using his good looks and reputation to make every girl smile and drop her knickers. As I've clearly shown with Noah, I don't share." Emily sighed rubbing her temples. "Look I'm sorry. Im not blind. I know how the women are. Trying to insert themselves into the club wanting to gain an old lady title. I get your protecting Jax, but I'm not planning on falling at his feet like everyone else." Gemma smirk stretched across her face and it irked Emily. "I see it y'know. The little looks you throw at each other. The smiles." Emily's stomach twisted at Gemmas words. Was it that obvious? I mean yeah, she was attracted to him but who wouldn't be? "This is ridiculous. We've known each other a few weeks." Gemma eyed her as she moved to sit on the stool Emily jumped from. She was different from Jax's usual choice, a million miles from Tara and the blonde porn star he recently grew fond of. Sure she'd caused some trouble with her temper but Gemma couldn't question how well she handled David Hale when he came snooping. "Deny it all you want darlin'. I'm just giving you a heads up that loving my son isn't easy. This life isn't for the weak." Emily scoffed at Gemma's words as she watched her lean back blowing out smoke from the cigarette she just lit, black and blonde curls falling from her shoulder. She warned her as if she had never loved a biker before. Noah's probation period was hard the first time, but she'd supported him regardless. He hadnt been patched long when he done her dirty. " Yeah i know. I'm still paying the price for it now." Emily spoke through gritted teeth before storming from the garage.

Jax's head snapped up at the sound of the slamming of the garage door. He'd been sat at the tables with Opie, Chibs and Happy. Juice and Cara had disappeared to somewhere quieter, either getting to know each other more or getting down and dirty. Confusion settled on his face as he spotted Emily storming across the lot, face like thunder, his mom stood leaning against the door frame watching her. Ignoring Opie calling his name, Jax got up and chased after Emily. "Em!" She heard him call her name and for some reason it just pissed her off more. "Go back to the party, I'm going home. I'll pick Cara up tomorrow when shes done fucking juice." Emily still spoke through gritted teeth, not turning to look at him once as she walked down the dark street. "What's happened? What did my mom say?" Jax questioned. He knew what his mom was like, how bitchy she could be. Gently grabbing her arm, Jax tugged her towards him stopping her angry power walk. Emily rolled her eyes, refusing to look up at him. Even in these stupid heels he was taller. "she have me the speech I'm assuming she gives every one that gets remotely friendly with you. The old lady warning." Jax sighed as Emily carried on speaking, not giving him a chance to cut in. "Look, I'll tell you what I told her. I'm not after the old lady title. I'm not a damn patch bunny, crow eater or whatever other stupid name you have for them. One biker has already caused me enough hassle so if you expect me to jump into bed with you, your fucking wrong. If you wanting to be around me has anything to do with fucking with Noah, you can fuck off too! I enjoyed watching Cara bust his balls but you seem to have an issue with him and you can leave me out of it. Don't get me wrong Teller, your sex on legs and no doubt a girls wet dream but the fact you know it and you use it to get these girls to fall for you leaving broken hearts around Charming, makes me sick." Turning on her heel, her chest heaving with anger Emily continued down the street. She managed a few steps before turning to face a shocked Jax. "And just so it's extremely clear, the notion of an old lady pisses me off. I have never and will never stand behind a man and do as I am told. I'm an all or nothing kinda girl Teller." Jax smirked at her. She'd invaded his mind since that first day she saw her. She was mouthy and short tempered and Jax honestly loved that about her. He needed people around him that he could rely on to tell him the truth. People around him were always filtering their answers, like smoky truth, trying to please him. Their reputation in town clearly made people treat them different. Some idolised, some avoided. But Emily was never rude to any of them despite what Noah did. She never pryed for information trying to make herself a permanent fixture in club life. Most wanted affiliation, to be protected. Emily never seemed to want anything. Jax closed the distance between them, smirk still stretched across his face. "A girls wet dream huh?" Emily's eyes widened both in shock and Suprise. "Are you kidding me? THAT is the only thing you took from my whole rant?" Jax laughed at how pissed off she was. She was so fucking adorable. "Calm down pocket. I heard everything." Her hands flew to her hips in frustration, she glared at the man infront of her. "Pocket?" Jax grinned his own hands deep in his Jean pockets. "Yeah like pocket rocket! Your always seconds away from exploding." Emily felt the heat on her cheeks and knew she was glowing red. "I've got no ulterior motive here em. I just genuinely like you. Your different, good. Noah didnt see it, clearly didn't appreciate you. My mom's pushy, always putting her foot in her mouth." Jax moved her hands from her hips, replacing them with his own. His thumbs rubbing circles on her exposed skin. Emily bit her lip. She felt like a stupid teenager, her skin tingled at his contact. He was addictive. His warmth comforting. "Come back to the party. If you want to go home later I'll take you on the bike."

Emily didn't want to agree, but one look in those baby blues and she found herself letting a smiling Jax lead her back to the party.

[sickmachete]

HEY !! HERE ARE SOME RANDOM FIRE SAFETY TIPS !!

AVOID HILLS. seriously. the radiant heat coming off the flames pre-heats nearby grasses/fuels located above (heat rises!) which is what cause fires to "run" up hills lighting up long strips in the blink of an eye. you cannot outrun a fire that's chasing you up hill.

EVEN IF you are standing below the fire all it takes is one stray ember blown in the wind to start a fire below YOU and then you're really screwed. if you're caught on a hill, run to the side and (if possible) try to get to any charred/burnt zones behind the fire.

charred/already burnt black areas are safe zones. they will not easily re-burn and can become refuges to retreat to (but still be mindful of smoke inhalation).

healthy green grass lawns can also be temporary safe zones. the moisture held in lush grass makes it a lot more difficult to catch fire and can work as a temporary refuge in the case of a house fire. however, TO BE CLEAR: this does NOT apply to tall forest meadow-type grasses. when i say healthy grass im talkin like suburban manicured lawns okay? if your lawn is looking crusty dry brown then thats not gonna be a good place to run to.

most mild carbon monoxide poisoning (aka smoke inhalation) can be cured by simply taking in fresh air. severe smoke inhalation may require further medical treatment though.

fire needs FUEL + OXYGEN + HEAT in order to burn. if you removed ANY of these 3 things, the fire will go out. this is known as the fire triangle. the reason why water works against fire is mainly because it's cold, however it also helps by "drowning" the fire, depriving it of oxygen.

on this note!! if you're cooking and your food catches on fire inside the pan, DO NOT! pour water onto it!!!! that will only make it splash. what you're gonna wanna do is grab a pot/pan lid and gently slide it onto the pan. this will cut off its oxygen and put the fire out. DO NOT! slam the lid onto the pan!! this rush of wind/air could blow the fire right out of the pan and directly onto you/nearby furniture!

CHECK YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHERS!!! please!! not all fire extinguishers are meant to be used on the same fire!!! while it can vary (and you should definitely look up the ratings for your own location/extinguishers) many of them will have specific class ratings written along the label. here in the USA, those ratings are in letter form (ie: Class A, Class B, Class C, Class D, and Class K). sometimes these ratings are combined (ie: Class ABC), meaning that a Class ABC fire extinguisher can be used on a Class A, B, or C fire.

FIRE EXTINGUISHERS AND THEIR ASSIGNED FIRES

CLASS A: these extinguishers should be used on wood/paper/plastic (ie: your basic trash fire).

CLASS B: these extinguishers should be used on flammable liquids (ie: alcohol, gas, petroleum, greasing oils <- not food oils though!!).

CLASS C: these extinguishers should be used on electrical fires (ie: sparking cables, your computer spontaneously combusted and is on fire, etc).

CLASS D: these extinguishers should be used on combustible metals (ie: magnesium, titanium, potassium, sodium, etc. if that metal shit in your garage is burning, use Class D).

CLASS K: these extinguishers should be used on flammable cooking oils/greases (ie: your stove is on fire, your barbecue's on fire, etc).

CLASS ABC: these extinguishers can be used on any of the Class A, B, or C material fires.

DO NOT USE THE WRONG EXTINGUISHER. they are labeled differently for a reason!!! a Class ABC extinguisher (for example) will make a Class K fire splash! you will cause that big old greasy fire to splash right back onto you!! Class K extinguishers are specifically designed to safely put out fires without disturbing the liquids/oils so please please please check the labels of your extinguishers.

AND REMEMBER TO "PASS" !!!

HOW TO USE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER — P.A.S.S.

PULL the pin in the handle.

AIM the nozzle at the base of the fire.

SQUEEZE the lever slowly.

SWEEP (across the base of the fire) from side to side.

[realistically-shifting]

My Luxury Apartment- General Script

I script this apartment complex in most of my DRs and my Waiting Room. Features like the room style change based on what reality the script is for, but the rest generally stays the same. This is the complex I shifted to the first time, all the things I would’ve enjoyed if I stayed longer.

Exterior: At the back of the complex, there’s a playground with equipment for adults too. The playground equipment can handle adult bodies using it.

Basement level: At the basement level, there are storage lockers for the tenants of the apartment, a parking garage, a shop, and a convenience store. The convenience store carries a brand of microwave dinners that has a wide variety of options, and it includes many cultural dishes from various cultures. For example, one of the frozen dinner sets includes collard greens cooked with smoked ham hocks and black eyes peas, fried catfish, baked mac and cheese, and a little cup of banana pudding or candied yams. The store sells other easy to make food items, such as roux cubes for curry and egusi stew. There is also a laundromat down there, for residents that don’t have personal machines.

First floor: The first floor has the lobby of the apartment building, an indoor pool and hot tub for the residents and their guests, and a hot pot restaurant. Residents get a discount at the restaurant, but it’s open to the public. It also has a gym that holds exercise, dance, and yoga classes.

Second floor: There’s a small doctor’s clinic on this floor, staffed by several nurses, two pediatricians, a mental health counselor, and a few physicians. Here, residents (and our guests) can receive regular checkups, emergency aid, help with medical treatments such as dialysis, etc. Attached to the clinic is a small pharmacy where you can get cold medicines, common emergency medicines like epipens and inhalers, etc. There’s also a daycare on the other side of the building, and between them is the complex spa. The spa has masseurs trained in neuromuscular massage therapy.

Third floor: A work space with computers for public use, recreational room that doubles as a movie theater with a larger screen, and an additional rec room with video game consoles, VR gaming space, and a small cafe. The first rec room is popular with older residents, while the second is more popular with the teenage residents.

Penthouse: My penthouse apartment also has a balcony with seating, two guest bedrooms each with its own 3/4 bathroom, and a walk-in storage closet.

Rooftop: On top of the apartment complex is a community garden and an observatory. There are gardeners that maintain most of the plots, but private plots must be privately managed.

Safety features: Along with normal safety features, all the windows and doors on the first and second floor, plus parking garage, have metal shutters that can be lowered during emergencies. The entire building also has an advanced fire suppression system, air purifiers, and an extensive bunker below the parking garage. Each apartment, or at least the penthouses, have security doors (thick wooden doors with metal plates in the middle and higher quality locks). All the safety features have their own failsafes.

[tinyvesselhearts]

What Fear Does to People (Egon x You)

It's Chapter 8 of my series Thing Is but can be read as a standalone.

Rating: Mature (descriptions of violence) Pairing: Egon Spengler x You (no Y/N) Others: "Platonic" bed-sharing, pre-relationship, gentle touching, hurt/comfort, ghosthunting, Lovecraftian monsters, Ray's recovering from a bust and he's not currently at the station

(also: a reference to GB game. If you know, you know)

It’s roughly 2 a.m. when it starts.

Egon wakes up with a shiver. He’s freezing. A gust of wind runs through his clothes and that in itself is enough to put him on guard. Thing is, all the windows are closed, both of you are covered with quilts and there’s no tangible cause for the cold. No rational excuse, unless…

With mounting suspicion, he takes a look around. It’s pitch black and he can barely make out the edges of Ray’s empty cot. Warmth of the linen seems to hit him all at once, stark contrast to what he’s just felt on his skin. Disconcerting. Eerie, maybe— but he’s calm nonetheless. This is how those entities operate. The Collective: all kinds of eldritch horrors. They’re playing hide- and- seek until their victims can’t keep their wits about them anymore and he— as a devoted scientist and a Ghostbuster (yes, the very same)— is here to teach a lesson.

You’re unabashedly curled up against his side. Safe, unbothered, sound asleep. The attacker must be considering you innocuous enough, likely due to your comparative vulnerability, and is focused on Egon. Perfect. He lays his head back but doesn’t close his eyes— he’s vigilant— alert— ready.

The thing about Collective Unconscious is that despite being aware of its modus operandi, human brain is pretty pathetic in comparison. Its innate susceptibility to fear, specifically. During his years of Psychology, Egon would repeatedly hear that fear and love were the strongest of all human instincts, as they made the whole body receptive and focused in an instant. Later he’d find out that’s true about fear. He has no first- hand data on the latter— he supposes due to the troubled relationship with his parents— but Peter and Ray have done enough stupid things out of affection to confirm the thesis. Since Venkman’s incident with the tank a few years back, Egon hasn’t questioned love or its impact on a subject’s decision- making process. Or common sense. Or mating choices, just to be clear.

With that in mind, Egon knows what to expect. Diminished control of his body. Flinches. Unconditioned reflexes. He is determined to distinguish between real, physical stimuli and paranoia- induced ploys. A moment to cool off, analyze and conclude before acting on impulses. That’s the plan. Right. It’s easy in theory.

A distant bang echoes in the garage. It resembles a metal tool— a wrench, maybe?— but the sound is followed by nothing else, so Egon decides it’s nothing but a figment of imagination. Until—

“What was it?”

He leans back. He can’t see your face properly but enough to notice your eyes are open.

“…Oh. You’ve heard it too?”

“It’s not like… Ray got discharged in the middle of the night and sauntered back here, is it?”

There’s another loud bang. Nobody moves but both of you are very much awake.

Egon finally speaks.

“I’ll check it.”

“Uh, okay, okay”, you whisper. “What do I do?”

“Stay here and try to sleep. I’ll handle it.”

“…what?”

“Don’t argue. There’s no time. I’ll take care of whatever that is. I’m a professional, listen to me and I’ll make sure you’re safe. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Yes, but the Ghostbusters are a team. Now you’re on your own. I’m not leaving you! What if—”

“No time”, he mutters, putting the proton pack on. “Stay here. You were so tired you almost passed out on the couch. Do I need to remind you that you put my shirt on backwards?”

“My mom says it’s good fortune!”

“I’m serious”, he states and switches the backpack on. “Eldritch horrors are different than regular spirits. They harm both physically and emotionally. Lack of proper rest weakens the cognitive functions and you may be a real, tangible danger to yourself— and to me. Especially if you’re not familiar with their strategy.”

Egon slides into a pair of slippers. It’s not the perfect job attire but it’ll have to do— he stupidly left his combat boots in the locker downstairs. Maybe when he slides down to the garage, he’ll manage to change.

He takes the final look at you because you’re awfully quiet. Exhausted and hopeless, he guesses. He’d appreciate some backup but the boys aren’t here and you’re in no position to fill the role now. When you ignored his precaution the last time (while fully capable and well- rested), you ended up wounded in his lab. What you’re facing here can do much, much more damage.

Egon briefly considers escorting you out of the premises altogether—just in case— but then, how could he ensure your safety if the spirit decides to leave after you?

His chest is heavy when he speaks.

“If anything suspicious happens in this room, call me immediately. Shout, if you have to.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Alright”, he shoots you a look. “Stay here.”

You nod. It’s weak, devoid of conviction and Egon wants to emphasize how crucial it is for you to stay— but another loud bang comes from the reception area and there’s no time to waste.

Egon turns around and scuttles towards the pole. He slides down. Lands with a loud thump, doubled by the flip- flops and takes a slow, cautious look around.

He’s quick to spot the source of the noise: it’s a loose pipe lying on the floor. It might not be currently moving but it sure as heck was just a moment ago— Ray doesn’t leave spare parts scattered around the floor. He has his secret dirty stash for that.

Egon takes a long, wary look around. Nothing’s moving, except for gentle flow of a dirty cloth drying on the heater. He pulls out the PKE meter and glances at the readings. Whatever this thing is, it’s here. It may be invisible but it’s here. Lurking. Leering. Hidden in the shadow, a predator on the hunt. Any moment now.

He doesn’t even manage to slide the device back into the pocket when a slimy tentacle shoots at him.

It’s massive. Heavy and slick. Whatever creature it belongs to, it must be huge and, uh, incredibly unusual. The dissonance is almost incomprehensible: to see a wet, marine limb which acts very much alive here— in the garage of New York’s finest— in a place devoid of water (well, save for a tap).

Egon screams. He drops the PKE meter and reaches for the charged rod. A proton stream lashes outwards with full power but before it catches the giant limb, it’s already gone— slithered into the shadows, shrouded in shade.

A few things to note right away: one, the ghost is huge. Two, it’s unlike any other they’ve seen before. Three, the sheer amount of mucus suggests a healthy dose of Marsh genes. Four, it’s out of sight and apparently good at staying there. Right. All Egon has to do is pretend to be unsuspecting, so that the ghost—

“Yeah, so I’ve done some thinking and I can’t do this.”

He whips his head around. There you are: in his crumpled shirt still inside- out, peeking through the hole in the ceiling. You’re in the middle of putting on your socks.

He can’t with you. He can’t.

“What did I tell you? Don’t come down here!”

“Oops?”

“No”, he yells. “I told you to STAY! Stay! How many times—”

“Sure, and pretend your screaming flows like a nursery rhyme.”

You clutch the pole with both hands, pull yourself close and slide down. Egon curses under his breath. Shite. Shite. Of course you wouldn’t listen. Psychology classes pop up in his mind again— the most powerful instincts— the things people do for fear…

“I’m here now. Poof. Too late”, you say. “Whatever happens is on me.”

He stifles a groan. It’s a lost cause. The stairs are at the opposite end of the garage. Escorting you there would take way too long and expose you to a stealthy attack and— well, he doesn’t suppose forcing you to climb the pole is on the table.

“Alright”, he decides. “Grab the pack.”

You manage to put it on yourself. He helps you to switch it on. You huff, smile and turn to him.

“Which trap?”

“Regular.”

“On it!”

You dash towards Ecto- 1. Just as Egon suspected: the enormous tentacle emerges from the shadow and aims.

Egon shoots. The proton stream reaches the ghost this time. The current wraps around its shape. The ectoplasmic limb wrestles and yanks but he holds it in place: it’s your turn to capture it before it rips the shackle.

“Now!”

You slide the contraption right under the ghost. Set the pedal. Step. Open. Wait.

Intense glow fills the room. Egon navigates the tentacle downwards but for some inexplicable reason the trap doesn’t seem to swallow its prey. It tries— sucks some ectoplasmic residue, hoovers up some of its slime— but the monster doesn’t get pulled in, as if it was… attached to something?

A roar echoes through the garage and everything happens at once: the trap closes, proton stream breaks and the ghost dissipates again.

You’re the first to whisper.

“…Is it…?”

“No”, Egon exhales. “It’s around here somewhere.”

“So… The trap didn’t work? Why?”

“Apparently it’s not just a ghost. It must be a complex being with some sort of material form. We may need to overpower it in a more… traditional sense.”

“Chain? Wires? Chandelier? Forget- me rod? A random hydraulic pipe of oblivion?”

Your flowery language is both a blessing and a curse. That translates into a perfect bait. Keep talking.

“So you’re opting for brute force?” Egon asks and that’s all it takes.

“Uh, I thought you were suggesting. I’d try another approach. If that guy is a marine cephalopod he may have a hard time adjusting to open air. Maybe dragging it out of the drainage will do the trick, right? Instead of streaming it, we could—"

Your mouth is still open when the giant tentacle shoots in your general direction. You let out a loud shriek and manage to evade— albeit barely— and even though Egon assumed using you as a lure would be the practical choice, he, for once, can’t stand the sight of it.

The proton rod won’t help any. Hitting you is a real threat— and it’s way more dangerous for you than the ghost. He’s about to resort to brute force but the monster steps out of the shadows and Egon can’t believe his eyes.

It’s human.

Oh, that makes things significantly easier.

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a tiny bottle and charges.

A hit from behind may be cheap but it works every time. Egon swings the uncharged proton rod right into the creature’s head. It squeals, unwraps the tentacles protruding from its sleeve, then snarls and shakes its head. Egon has a few seconds to take in the entire picture: three gargantuan ectoplasmic limbs (a developing ghostly sickness?) have taken over the poor guy’s left arm. He seems dazed: his eyes are foggy, droll seeps through his teeth and for a split second Egon wonders if there’s any spiritual cancerous disease he’s failed to discover.

The hybrid lifts its arms and aims at you again, full force. Before you have the chance to scream, Egon slides right in front of you, pushes you aside and splashes some of the bottle’s contents on the monster’s face.

It howls and retracts.

“…What is that?!” You manage.

“An old trick. Handy when possessed individuals fail to be cooperative.”

Egon spots the dirty cloth still hanging on the heater. It should be dry enough. Easy to soak. Perfect.

He dashes for it, grabs it and presses it against the bottle, pouring a decent amount of the liquid on it. Heavy drops of the potent solution spill around. Tiny wet lines trickle down his gloves. He takes a deep breath, holds it and looks at the monster. It snarls. Then charges.

Egon isn’t a great fighter but he dodges just fine. He slides under the tentacles, turns around and hops on the hybrid’s back. It screeches— then stops— wet, throaty sounds stifled by the rug in Egon’s hand. He clutches the monster’s throat, squeezes it with an elbow and turns to you.

“A common tranquilizer. Learnt it during my coroner years”, he grunts, pressing the pad into its face. “You might want to find something to tie him with.”

You’re awfully quiet, staring at him blankly— but you nod. There’s a spare, long chain in Ray’s stash (nobody knows what he uses it for) so you take it and approach the scuffle with apprehension. The hybrid’s movements slow down but it’s still trying to break out of Egon’s unrelenting clutch.

“Thank you”, he says, composed as ever. “You’re doing great.”

It takes a few more seconds. The monster’s muscles eventually give in and it slides down on the floor. Its arms loosen. Eyes close. Its head hits the garage floor.

For a long moment nobody moves.

“Yo”, you whisper. Egon looks at you, then at the limp body beneath him and takes a step back.

“Sedated. Perfect.”

“What now?”

“Let’s tie it up.”

Egon reaches for the chain you’re holding. He wraps the creatures torso (making it extra tight and unnecessarily confusing around the arms— safety first) and you take care of its legs. The constraint turns out pretty solid and, most importantly, impossible to slip through by the tentacles. Once you make sure it’s sealed, each of you grabs a loose end of the chain and proceed to drag the dead weight across the floor.

It’s not exactly Buckingham Palace level of service anyway— not like you owe anybody standards— but when the monster’s back slams against a concrete pillar, you flinch.

“Oh no!— Oh dear, it hurt him—”

“It’s just tried to kill you. You do understand that, right?”

“Sort of”, you groan. “I really wanted it to warm up to us. We’ve sort of killed our chances at cooperation.”

“Don’t worry. It isn’t capable of drawing conclusions in this state.”

Egon pulls the chain and ties the creature around the pillar in an ungallant knot. It’s not his proudest work but a staple of initiative nonetheless. Links are sealed. Hostage is secured. It’s all under control.

He’s still focused on triple- checking the locks when you speak.

“Egon, why did you…?” You rub your hands together. “You… It was dangerous. Reckless. You don’t do reckless, Egon Spengler. Overcomplicated, yes, way too optimized, yes. But this, whatever you were thinking, was almost careless! You… You could’ve—”

He looks upwards. You seem anxious but you’re alive and well. He doesn’t understand.

“I could’ve what?”

“Well, I mean, you stuck your neck out for me. It could’ve been bad”, you gulp. ‘You could’ve been hurt.”

“I wasn’t though, was I?”

Egon’s at a loss. He watches you closely. You’re both okay and that’s all that matters. It’s not the first time he’s done something stupid out of fear— ah, fear, the bypass of rational thought— the Psychology classes again…

You stay silent for a moment, then sigh.

“I’ll call Peter.”

“Yes. No. Wait.” He frowns, takes off his gloves and approaches you. “Check- up first.”

“…This again? Seriously?!” You huff. “It’s, like, the third time this week! If something happened, I’d tell you immediately. I’m fine, Egon! I’m fine, you should be focused on yourself, you’re the one who went berserk for some reason I can’t wrap my head around—"

No bruises, no scratches. He touches your face, looks you in the eyes.

“It’s a precaution. I’ll make it quick. Tell me if anything hurts.”

His fingers skim over your features— cheeks, nose, forehead, temples. Your voice catches. Breath gets shuddered, eyes go frantic and cheeks are still awfully warm but it’s a natural response. Egon’s expected that much. His thumb runs across your lip, even though it looks untouched and there’s no justifiable reason to examine it closely. He just… can’t resist. Nor does he want to, really. There’s still room for excuses which get half- woven in his head but their seams are loose and each sentence falls apart before it leaves his mouth.

Egon knows he lingers too long. Needs to pull back. He doesn’t understand why his body won’t listen.

The tip of his thumb rests at the corner of your lips, then moves on to another gentle caress. Then again. And again, until you sigh. Warm breath tickles his skin. He tries it once more to check if you allow him— and you do— more than that— you melt into the touch, heat radiating from your skin, breathing deep— receptive, indulgent, responsive.

This is… inebriating.

“…You seem okay”, he concludes. “No injuries?”

“No. You?”

“None”, he says, letting his hands hang loose again. “I’ll run a few tests. Call Venkman, tell him we’ve got a subject. He should come immediately.”

“Okay. But tell me what’s going on.”

“…We’ve just caught an anomaly. As I said.”

“Not that. I see you. I notice things”, you say cautiously but he makes sure his face is as blank as ever. “You’re usually so collected. What happened?”

Egon doesn’t think it needs explanation. It’s obvious. Should be, at least. He frowns and says:

“I don’t want my friends to get hurt.”

“…After Ray?”

He nods.

A pair of soft hands brush against his jaw and in a moment— before he’s able to fully process what’s happening— his face dips down, guided by the delicate touch and you gently place your lips near his chin.

It’s a simple gesture. Gentle touch. A shadow of a kiss, lighter than Dana’s, nothing more than a brush of hot skin but— Lord, help him— he shivers— it’s so much more— it’s everything— it’s overwhelming.

“Ray is fine”, you whisper, looking at him again. “You’ll see him tomorrow, remember? It’s almost over.”

“…Again, please.”

“You’ll see him tomorrow...”

“No. Not this, the…”

It takes you a second but you get it and breathe out a laugh. Brush his jaw again, then wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a tight hug.

Oh. Oh.

His arms tentatively reach for your back and once they’re there— recognize the texture of his shirt (outlining your shape in a way he declines to register)— and he lets down his guard a bit. Tightens his grasp. Sinks into the moment. He lets his hands really feel you for the first time since the both of you’ve started accepting proximity and it frightens him beyond belief— it’s soft, welcoming, disarming and pure— so his eyes close, stiff muscles let go— anxiety abates—  he’s out of breath— but all you do is hold him close, no doubt, no shame. You’re as open and affectionate as ever, a salve for his mind, a missing link. You fit right here. He’s never known a feeling like this, not even with his family.

That’s something new: his fear for your life instigates a soothing response. Highly unusual. He’ll have to write it down for future reference.

“Could we include this into the list of things we do? Under… particular circumstances, of course?”

“Sure. Whenever you need it.”

You stay like that for a moment. It’s quiet and dark. Egon relishes every breath tickling the nape of his neck, every slight fidget against his chest, every movement— and when you finally take a step back, his chest feels almost hollow. As if it’s just tasted peace and had to let go.

“You should also add a point in which you listen to me in case of immediate danger”, he says. “In a bold, red, permanent marker, preferably.”

You smile. It’s playful. Cheeky. Beautiful. Whatever anxiety you’d felt a moment ago, evaporated.

“I did cooperate, doofus! You won’t find a more flexible squire than myself.”

“Flexible tends to mean obedient”, he raises an eyebrow. “When I say you fall back, you do.”

“When you require assistance, I help! That’s literally in my agreement. I signed the paper, you have no say in this, Spengler.”

“Spenglers are a team. And, when faced with danger, have to be unanimous.”

“You’re right!” You give him your finger guns and turn to the reception desk. “See? We’ve just agreed and it’s that easy!”

He smirks.

“Call Venkman.”

“Ai, ai, Sir!”

He watches you pick up the phone and dial Peter’s number. A few beeps later your voice fades into a mumble of funny noises.

When he turns towards the hybrid, he notices another curious thing: the tentacles seem to deflate and seep into a bile of ectoplasmic goo.

He must take a sample immediately. Ray is going to love this.

[freyito]

mortal kombat band au… id love to hear everything about it 👀 any solo acts or duos?

sophy raGHhHGGhhg you're my HEROOOO ASKJDGAKJSD ahem. there's a lot. we'll start with the bigger bands and stuff like that and make our way down. some of this is serious some of this is a joke that stuck i prooooomise you its good.

Liu Kang is like. god of music protector of earthrealm. it's mainly stationed in mk1 but oh oh i'll get to past timelines. The Mortal Kombat tournament is still a thing but it's like more about serving cunt then hits yknowwww.

Biggest by far is the Earthrealm Players. I have no idea what to call em. But it's Raiden, who's the vocalist, Kung Lao on bass, Kenshi on drums, and Johnny on guitar. They're a metal band, something kinda like Avenged Sevenfold. They were kinda a shitty garage band but they had fun regardless, Kung Lao was on guitar at the time. Johnny showed up to one of their gigs in a dive and like instantly fell in love and pretty much wormed his way in there. He chose music over acting this time. (unrelated i guess but he has a PhD in astrophysics instead of quantum physics) Johnny gatekeeps the band hardcore cause they're dead set on gaining traction organically.

Kung Lao and Kenshi let their anger lead their music, so they are very aggressive with what they do. Kung Lao specifically is afraid of his name fading to history and refuses to let that happen. He's a little more like forward with his anger, and he kinda abuses the hell out of his bass strings. Has to restring it like after every hardcore jam sesh and gig. Also, because of this, he tends to break his skin a lot and gets blood all over his bass. and bandmates. Kenshi channels all his pent-up anger into his drums cause he was still a Yakuza in this timeline. HE'S actually 3 mil in the hole cause he dropped it on drumsticks. Who restored his sight. Yes, the drumsticks are Sento. But a lot of his performances are kinda dramatic but in the good way, he's often seen kinda looking like he's gonna cry?? but with his eyes gouged out (i mean mileena took EVERYTHING, he doesnt have any tear glads or ducts) he can't cry. Sento also IS their practical effects.... These two specifically I can see doing something like (Anesthesia)-- Pulling Teeth by Metallica.

Raiden grew up with music, and it's been something that's been in his family for quite a while (ahem ahem old timeline raiden was the god of voice too ahem). He sings to mourn those he's lost and remember those he's known, those he will meet, and so on. He's got a voice that can CARRY. All angelic and soft and sweet, but also he can 100% hit a reaaaaaaaal sexy death growl. Johnny initially started playing out of spite because music (and acting) was shunned by his father. And it was the one thing he found a lot of comfort within, something that kinda shoved his depression to the side. Helped distract him. Slowly that became the sole reason he played. He'll definitely like do some sensual things with his guitar too. He's the kinda guy who plays into the fans, and the band has to be like "eyes up here" (AND THEN THEY KISS).

THE LIN KUEI BROS. Forgive me. Are a boyband. Very popular DUUUUH. They end up breaking up cause of conflict of interest. Bi-Han starts a solo career, and Tomas and Kuai Liang start a duo. Guess who's more popular lmfao.

HAVIK AND REIKO HAVE A DEATHMETAL BAND AND I GET IT'S SOOO CLEAR but hear me out hear me out. Havik and Rain also had a like black metal band together called. ahem. "The Flood". Rain lost interest in music and they split up. Havik found his way back to Reiko and they got EVEN BETTER. Havik on vocals of course. He's got an insane growl. And Reiko handles like everything else. They just kinda record stuff and play it during the show depending on what Reiko chooses to play during.

Ashrah and Reptile also have a duo band. To be honest I really see them making stuff like Crane Wives, some real nice sorta adventurous music with their hearts poured into it. Both of them specifically write about their struggles and both actually sing! They don't play live a lot and really just drop their music and like. walk away for several years. But each time it's a beautiful experience. Baraka has actually collabed with them a few times. But he himself walked away from music cause of his affliction, he was shunned by the audience really. THEY HAVE ALL ALSO COLLABED WITH RAIDEN, KUNG LAO, JOHNNY, AND KENSHI. A LOT OF TIMES ACTUALLY. HEAR ME OUT.

Milleena and Tanya oh my GOOOOODS. Girl rock. Like soft, but grungy stuff. Together. A mix of post-rock and soft rock, and it's allllll love songs. And ALL OF THEM ARE ABOUT EACHOTHER. It's all sappy and sweet and all self-indulgent and they do it for eachother.

Li Mei and Sindel also had a little duo back in the day but most of the music faded into obscurity. They broke up after the death of Jerrod, and Sindel continued to create music in memory of him. Li Mei kinda fell off as well, but trust me when I say she SHREDS.

Now. Okay. Stay with me here. please. oh my god please. Kitana. Is a vocaloid producer. She has beautiful vocals. But she was introduced to Vocaloid by Mileena as a kid and it never left her bones. She's like the Giga of the universe. She makes fun upbeat songs and OH ARE THEY BAAAAAANGERS.

It only gets goofier here please HAHAH. okay so basically. Shang Tsung is like Lady Gaga. but like evil a little. LIKE YOU CAN SEE THE VISION. He's sassy. He's a boyloser. He SLAYS. He and Quan Chi have collabed a little but Shang Tsung's a sensation. He's got over-the-top flashy performances, he's killin it on stage. He puts his ASS into his music.

Shao is the Frank Sinatra of Outworld. Guys. Okay. Hear me out please. Give him so water and he's got a voice that's gold. I refuse to elaborate any further.

Nitara's like the Taylor Swift of Vaternia.... singin her world back to life or something guys I dont know. Lowkey struggled with Nitara a lot when I wrote this out OUASGDHASG

BEFORE Baraka was pushed out of music, he was a country artists. DOES IT NOT FIT!?!?!? That's right. IT DOES. He's probably got a single out there that's all about Tarkat LMFAOOO

Lowkey I actually cannot see Quan Chi doing anything aside from riding off of Shang Tsung's career like the leech of a boyfriend he is.... he probably only drops music online and it's like so severely edited it's quite sad (i am a quan chi hater)

and finally. a little bonus. Fujin is like one of those artists that you don't know like at all. Like there's this one song that's a banger BUT YOU CAN'T FIND IT ANYWHERE... like the most mysterious song on the internet. That's Fujin's. But you don't know or something...

anyways. oh. it's in my head. was the au an excuse to emo everyone??? no. (lie)