#ashley: (struggle noises)

[cuteandhughesy]

The Great War | Jack Hughes

summary: during a friends getaway to the hughes lake house, you are faced with the ongoing struggle of trying to get along with the middle hughes brother. the 3 times you were sure you and jack hated each other + the 2 times you aren’t so sure.

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warnings: NSFW! enemies to lovers | rude!jack | alcohol | suggestive themes | smut | kissing | fingering | read at your own discretion.

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one: the drive

"It's too early." ashley’s voice is an exhausted whine, and you look over just as she dramatically drops her forehead to the purple suitcase sitting infront of her.

you roll your eyes gently, very much used to your best friends distaste in early morning conversations and wake up times. you can’t say you’re the biggest fan of waiting on the grand stairs outside luke and jack hughes’ apartment building at 8 a.m., but the reasoning for the early wake up call was one that you were a fan of.

you met luke hughes in your shared freshman year at the university of michigan, and you had both hit it off instantly - becoming quick friends. since then, you and your friend ashley had always been invited to spend a week of summer vacation at the hughes’ michigan lake house and every year, without fail, you’d all get together and drive up.

ashley groans again, and the sound has you breathing out in a quiet laughter. your fingers drum against the smooth stone steps beneath you, your head lolling over to look at her properly. “it’s only 8, ash “

the brunette throws her head backwards, an even louder noise of displeasure leaving her small body. “yeah, way too early.” she stretches out her tan legs, nudging the suitcase out of the way with a painted toenail. ashley rolls her shoulder a few times and huffs obnoxiously. “what the hell is taking them so long?”

you frown, “I’m not sure. luke said they were on their way down a few minutes ago.” you glance over your shoulder and in the direction of the grand apartment doors behind you, trying to catch a glance of luke or anybody else you know. "maybe-"

"hello ladies" trevor zegras pushes open the doors, sauntering out from the apartment complex and over towards you and ashley. he’s sporting his usual sneaky grin, and there’s an expensive pair of black sunglasses covering his bright eyes - you couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they were crinkled at the corners as he continued to grin.

just like ducks, the rest of the group follows trevor, making their way towards the three of you from the entrance of the building. you recognize pretty much everyone, saved from a face towards the back of your friend group that you’re unfamiliar with.

trevor pulls you get up, one of his strong arms effortlessly bringing you to your feet from where you previously lounged on the ground. you see alex tourcette help ashley up beside you, the kings forward narrowly missing tripping over the suitcase ashley had pushed away earlier.

beatrice, luke’s girlfriend is breathing a heavy, trying to catch her breath as she stands with her hands held firmly against her hips. she gives trevor a stink eye, wetting her dry lips. “trevor we told you not to run.”

“where’s the fun in that?” trevor laughs unashamed. immediately his exterior had you smiling, the sour attitude from the early morning long forgotten as you listen to quinn and trevor begin to bicker.

like you and ashley, trevor was another honorary hughes lake house member and was always bringing the lighthearted fun to your vacation week - ever since you met him, trevor has always been one of your favourite people.

“why you were so excited to get out here is a mystery to me dude, not like there’s anyone worth while out here.” for the first time, jack makes his presence known but not without the cruel comment which you knew he was directing at you.

you roll your eyes, typical. you and jack, for lack of a better word, despised one another. ever since luke introduced you to his superstar brother, you did not like him. maybe it was his sour attitude or the fact he always seemed like he couldn’t care less about you or anything you said - you’re not sure why. all you’re sure of is the strong feeling of needing to rip his head off and how it’s growing stronger everytime you have to spend time near him.

"i'm in vacation mode dude," trevor chuckles.

"same here!" an unfamiliar female laugh follows the preach, and it quickly has your attention. she's like ridiculously beautiful - the kind of beautiful that you're not even jealous of but instead you're just amazed by. the girl stands confidently beside jack, her blonde hair tied back into a low bun and her simple gold jewelry catches the sun so it looks likes she's glowing.

beatrice says something along the lines of feeling excited about wearing her new bathing suit, but you're too distracted by the mystery's girls sweet laugh, perfect teeth....and the way jack just seemed so enamoured by her. you watch as he looks down at her softly, his tongue wetting his plump bottom lip as he does. you've never physically seen jack look so kindly at someone, and the feeling is a bit foreign - weighing oddly on your chest.

quinn claps his hands together, and the sound has you blinking hard, quickly looking away from the middle hughes brother and the mystery model and finding quinn - who's clap affectively grabbed the attention of the large group. "Okay, less cars the better - i'm thinking two vehicles max. who's up for driving?"

"my cars here," beatrice smiles gently, her delicate hand raising as she gathers the attention. jack follows suit, telling everyone he filled his trucks tank the day prior and was ready for the hour drive up to the lake house.

at that, trevor immediately makes a b-line for the truck, which coincidentally was parked towards the front of the gated parking unit. "let's get going!" he tosses his bag into the open trunk just as it begins to open, because yes jack of course has one of those fancy vehicles that's trunks open with a push of a button.

you watch as ashley is whisked away by beatrice, the chatty brunette already talking about the things she had planned for the three of you to do while you were at the lake house. you just catch the end of beatrice mentioning a hiking trail before the sound of rolling wheels on the suitcases overpower the conversation .

just as you make a move towards beatrice's mini car, already praying that you'll fit between the ridiculous amount of luggage, luke rushes past you, tucking himself behind the driver's seat just as beatrice and ashley get in the front.

you slow in your steps, a gentle frown taking over your face. you analyze the remaining seat, thinking of ways to move around the luggage and bags to make room for yourself - but your thoughts are halted as alex jumps into the car, effortlessly moving around the suitcase so he can sit comfortably behind the passenger seat.

you sigh, hands falling to your sides. "seriously guys?" the only one that seems to hear you is luke, the other three already arguing loudly over what songs to play and who exactly gets aux cord privileges.

luke shrugs his shoulders stiffly and shoots you an apologetic smile. "cars full."

you run a warm hand through your unbrushed hair - forgetting to comb so early in the day - and you readjust your black duffel bag along your exposed shoulder. "luke, I swear to god if you don't let me sit in your spot-"

"what? why should I move?" he counters, brows raised comically as he looks up at you.

you take a step closer to the jam packed cooper, crossing your arms unimpressed over your tank top covered chest. it feels a bit awkward with the bag weighing down your shoulder, practically rubbing your shoulder raw - but you don't care. "bea and ash - they're my friends."

he laughs, "bea is my girlfriend."

just as you go to further your point, ready to tell luke that there was no possible way you could ride in the other vehicle, the sound of a rumbling engine gets louder, signalling that the truck had come to a halt behind your back.

you feel yourself physically deflate but somehow you also feel like you're frozen. you knew what this whole car situation means, especially with luke being his usual stubborn self and refusing to offer you his spot (you'll definitely get him back for that later). with no other options, you'll have to ride in jack's truck.

the all too familiar voice of the middle hughes brother calls out to your turned back, a taunting undertone to his words that just make you want to get swallowed up by the ground and not go anywhere. "you need a ride?"

suddenly, the bustling chatter and laughter from beatrice's car comes to a halt, the three previously noisy passengers all going silent as their eyes all find you.

awkwardly, you turn around and your eyes connect with jack's past trevor's completely oblivious smile - scrolling leisurely on his phone. jack was leaning over the center console of his truck, his weight resting on his elbow as he looks at you through the passenger window.

you give beatrice's car one last look of defeat - to which ashley, finally realizing your predicament, shoots you a sympathetic look, and her smile is a mixture of guilt and sadness for you.

with a huff, you look back towards the truck and send a forced, borderline sarcastic, smile in jack's direction. "obviously." you grit through your clenched teeth, taking the two steps towards the truck and hastily pulling open the door.

jack's lips slink upwards into a smirk at your words, watching you gently as you clamber over quinn's large outstretched legs to get to the middle seat.

once you're comfortable (as comfortable as you can be in a confined space with jack hughes), the truck begins to move, jack pulling out of the gated apartment complex and onto the street.

10 minutes into the drive and you were still feeling pretty on edge. the vibes in the truck were anything short of awkward - to say the least. you could tell quinn was waiting and anticipating for you and jack to start bickering - his shoulder tense against yours. anytime jack said anything to trevor or sydney (the beautiful model that jack had brought along - who introduced herself as soon as jack pulled onto the freeway) , quinn would hold his breath, waiting for an argument to start.

sydney's sweet voice pulls you from your head, eyeing you brightly. "so, y/n, how do you know luke?"

you smile, "we got close at uni - my good friend used to hookup with one of his friends so we'd all hangout at their place."

"now we can't get rid of her." quinn's elbow hits your ribs teasingly, letting you know he was only joking.

sydney hums lightly, "and are you still in school?"

you nod in conformation. unlike luke, you weren't a nhl superstar who's time in college was cut short - you still had a year left of schooling and gymnastic training at michigan.

"and I think jack mentioned you do gymnastics, are you wanting to persue that?" sydney eyes you curiously, knawing her lip intuitively as she waits for a response.

immediately though, your brows pull together as you try and work out why jack would mention you at all. you clear your throat, unable to think of a reason why. "that's definitely the goal, hopefully i’m good enough."

trevor laughs, eyeing you over the high shoulder of the trucks seat. his eyes are blown wide, and he's looking at you with an expression mixed of disbelief and amusement at your words. "you're definitely good enough - hell anytime i've seen you compete i've been left in pure astonishment."

you smile, head dipping slightly as you turn red from the praise. you can be really hard on yourself when it comes to your athletics, so hearing other people compliment your hard work is always nice and you can't help but blush.

jack clears his throat gently, shuffling forward in his seat. it gatherers your attention, and your eyes meet his deep blue ones in the rearview mirror. they flicker away shortly after, focusing back on the highway. "so, y/n." jack begins, eyes finding your gaze in the mirror once again.

beside you, quinn deflates as he mumbles to himself. trevor groans in exhaustion, already covering his face to save himself from witnessing any possible argument that could occur.

jack looks at you over his shoulder, eyes darting over your frame quickly.

on your other side, sydney is clearly unaware of the tension growing between you and jack, and she pushes against his shoulder gently. "hey, eyes on the road, jack. I don't wanna die."

jack did what sydney asked and turns back towards the road to divert the breakage of traffic laws - but the odd look he's been sporting didn't fall from his lips. "how's it going with ethan? luke hasn't mentioned you two in awhile."

your face falls. you can't tell if you're going to start sobbing uncontrollably or if you're going reach out and strangle jack until he passes out. you knew for a fact that jack knew you and ethan had broken up, because luke told him only a few days ago (and luke told you he told his two oldest brothers to help you avoid any akward conversations).

but this is typical jack, you think. trevor had complemented you, which had you visibly joyful, and jack seemed like he wanted nothing but the opposite for you. he's seen you happy so now he planned to ruin your mood by bringing up your freshly new ex-boyfriend.

"dude.." trevor whispers in disbelief, side eyeing his friend.

"jack-" quinn starts, brows furrowed uncomfortably.

"you know we broke up." you tell him roughly. you hope to catch his eyes in the mirror again, wanting to desperately have some fucking eye contact while jack insists on bringing you down once again- but he keeps his gaze on the road. "and you know that because luke told you about what happened."

"I forgot," jack practically scoffs, and one of his hands shoots up in defence. "no need to get all worked up over it."

you huff, "and there's no need for you to be a complete asshole."

"how was I being an asshole?" he laughs out, his fingers flexing on the edge of the steering wheel as the truck shifts lanes. "i'm just asking about your life."

"no," you correct roughly, "you were trying to get a rise out of me and congratulations jack, it worked and now i'm annoyed." you spit unpleasantly. your palms are starting to become wet with sweat, and your body feels like it's on fire. you always felt that heat when you and jack argued - he just always gets you so worked up and unfortunately, he's way too good at doing it.

"i'm not responsible for how you react to my words, y/n."

"is this taylor swift?" trevor's loud words cut off any further conversation brewing between you and jack. he turns up the volume in the truck so that's it's borderline deafening, a clear indicator that he was sick of hearing you both bicker at one another.

your arms cross over your chest stubbornly and finally, you look away from the reflective rearview mirror - eyes finding the carpeted floor of the truck. you miss the look jack sends you though, an unidentifiable expression on his face.

trevor starts to belt out the chorus of you belong with me - sidney and even quinn joining in on the impromptu karaoke session. but you ignore it...all of it. you ignored how jack brought a stranger to the cabin (a very sweet stranger - but still), ignored how jack has already picked a fight with you and humiliated you, and ignored how you'd have to spend a whole vacation with jack on top of it all.

you're feeling a little frustrated in yourself as well. you were so sick of taking his obvious bait, and allowing yourself to get so worked up over him. from now on, you're going to try your best to bite your tongue and stay quiet in his presence.

"hey, y/n, wanna shoot a text to bea and tell them we're only 20 minutes away." trevor's words have you already feeling better and pulls you out of your own self inflicted misery. the other passengers beside you begin to cheer in excitement, and quinn bumps his shoulder against yours knowingly - which has you breaking into a grin.

through the surge of excitement, you can't help but let your eyes wander back towards the driver's seat - instinctively landing on jack. he looks so happy, his teeth practically sparkling in the summer sun as he giggles at something trevor says.

his hair has grown since the season came to a disappointing end, giving jack that care-free, messy look you always thought suited him best. you squint questionably, wondering how he could be so happy and unbothered after your mini fight - did he not even feel guilty that he'd upset you?

you look away, past quinn's firm chest and out the truck window - watching the bustling city highways and buildings turn into beautiful lakeside streets and summer homes.

you're now really looking forward to lounging by the lake and doing nothing for a few days - planning on being the bigger person and acting civil for the remainder of the vacation.

screw jack and his stupid truck.

two: the boat

it was early morning before you saw anybody, besides ashley, again. after your rather draining car ride, you weren't feeling up to mingling or barbecuing with anybody, so after some lame excuse of feeling sick, you sulked to yourself in bed for the remainder of the day.

jack had rolled his eyes and huffed loudly as you made your way up the stairs, but you didn't stop or make a comment - you ignored him and kept going. after all, you'd had enough jack for the day.

you quietly make your way into the kitchen, bare feet padding against the hardwood floor as you round the corner.

trevor is already in there, slowly spreading some butter on a borderline burnt bagel half. he looks up, and his eyes widen in suprise at the sight of you. he licks some butter of his thumb, and then wipes it against his bare chest. "shit, wasn't expecting you."

you move around him and open the fridge. your eyes quickly scan over the options before you decide on orange juice, grabbing the full carton and bringing it towards the kitchen island. "forget I was here already?" you tease once you retrieved a glass and begin to pour yourself some juice., shooting him a look.

"could never forget you." trevor smiles, taking an extremely large bite out of his bagel so that butter smears over his dimples.

you laugh before taking a sip from your glass, letting the citrus juice slide over your teeth and down your throat - clashing with the toothpaste left over in your mouth. regardless, it's still enjoyable and you hum in satisfaction.

trevor eyes you, "how can you drink that shit?" he's laughing slightly, but his lips are tugged into a frown of displeasure. "apple juice is way better."

"it's not," you scoff gently, eyes twinkling with amusement.

he nods, "it is. nobody here drinks that shit but you."

you frown gently, "really? nobody else likes orange juice?" trevor shakes his head no, taking another bite and poppy seeds go everywhere. you hum questionably, "why did they buy it then?"

"who knows," trevor shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "ask quinn and jack - they went out shopping last night."

behind you, footsteps come bounding around the corner and into the kitchen. you glance towards the entry way just as jack walks in - he doesn't look up at first, too engrossed on his phone. like trevor, jack was also shirtless but instead of wearing pyjama bottoms like the anaheim ducks forward, he had on his bathing suit - a towel thrown over his shoulder.

he looks up from his phone and over at trevor, "quinn and I were thinking of heading out on the boat for a bit - bring some floaties and shit. you in?"

trevor lights up, dusting his hands free of any buttery bagel residue, "yeah man, let me get changed."

jack moves further into the kitchen, eyeing you and your cup of orange juice silently before moving past your body and opening one of the cupboards behind you.

silently, you roll your eyes at his typical rude behaviour. he didn't like you, that much was obvious, you weren't expecting him to ask you to join them on the boat anything- but could he not even greet you.

trevor turns back towards your direction, his brows raised questionably. "y/n, you coming?"

behind you, you can hear jack busing himself, but you knew he wasn't actually doing anything - he was subtly waiting to hear your answer to trevor's question.

so much was certain - you knew jack didn't want you there.

“sure,” you smile is exaggerated, and you can only hope jack is watching it with irritation. "I'll lay out and tan."

trevor grins, although his eyes widen in something that looks like fear at your wide smile. he pats the door frame twice, mumbling something about pennywise as he walks off.

as soon as he is out of sight, jack sighs. “of course.” his words are very quiet, but you knew he had no intent of keeping his words to himself - he wanted you to hear.

initially, you ignore him - working on finishing the banana you’d begin to peel when jack first walked into the kitchen.

jack sighs again - louder this time and you can practically hear his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

you huff, spinning around slowly so that’s you’re facing the second oldest hughes. resting your hip against the edge of the granite counter top, you eye him - gaze full of question as well as knowing. “spit it out.”

his expression turns smug like he knew he could break you - and that just has your blood coming to a boil. you stay composed though, focusing your surge of anger on the chews of mushy fruit in between your teeth.

jack rests the heels of his palms against the opposite counter top - near the sink across from the island . he leans back, eyeing you with an almost teasing glimmer in his eyes. "I thought you would've shaved your legs before offering to lounge around in your bathing suit all day."

you sigh, tilting your head tauntingly in his direction. you had waxed your legs two days ago, so obviously there was nothing there but you know he’s just trying to push your buttons like usual.

you send him a sarcastic smile. "you’d like that wouldn't you."

jack tongues his cheek, and his gaze doesn’t leave you face - even when you push off the island and brush past him to throw your banana peel out. you smirk to yourself once you know that jack isn’t going to say anything back, and you go get changed.

10 minutes later, you and ashley make your way down to the dock where quinn, trevor, alex and jack are (impatiently) waiting.

at the sight of you, trevor groans with exasperation, "finally the princesses have arrived."

"whatever.” ashley mumbles, a sarcastic eye roll gracing her dark eyes. the la kings player is at the side of the boat quicker than you can process, eyeing your friend gently and offering his hand to her. she accepts the outstretched hand, and lets alex help her gracefully step off the wooden dock and into the boat.

alex tourcette has very obviously been crushing on ashley since trevor introduced them two years ago at the hughes lake house. it was alex’s first time there and the sight of ashley had him coming back every year since.

so like usual when ashley was around, alex was too wrapped up in all her glory - leaving you standing on the dock with your arms full of beach towels, a tote bag full of all your essentials, and trevor’s hat he’d forgotten inside.

“any help?” you ask, but the only thing you get is the view of trevor and ashley’s backs as they walk away. “hello?”

you think you’re going to have to just pray and make the step down - vision practically blocked from the plethora of things in your arms. just when you try and attempt, you catch jack look over at you.

but then after a second he looks away, his attention once again back on his phone. a moment passes, and you’re almost too in shock to say anything to him, because was he really about ignore you and let you try this by yourself? after seeing you struggling?

nobody else is moving to assist you. quinn and trevor are going over the depth reader set up and the manuals, and obviously, ashley and alex were busy being lovey dovey at the very front of the boat. nobody else knew your predicament.

jack suddenly groans and tosses his phone on the bench seat beside him. wordlessly, he gets up from his previous seated position and makes his way towards the part of the boat you were standing beside.

he places his hand out, his palm up in your direction. jack looks at you expectantly, his brows raised as he waits on you to make the next move.

you bite your tongue to stop any irritant comments from coming out, but you can’t control the way your eyes roll at his bluntness. you attempt to reach out for his hand, trying to balance all the stuff in the crook of your opposite elbow.

"hold on,” jack huffs tiredly, "pass me all the shit in your arms so you don't trip and fall into the water."

quietly, you load everything off and give it to jack - who then places it all near his cellphone on the bench seat behind him.

finally, jack takes your hand, and helps you stay steady as you step onto the boat. his fingers brush against your wrist delicately, the foreign feeling of his skin on yours providing and unfamiliar rush of feelings.

the tote bag you had chose to keep on your body, resting loosely on your shoulder, begins to slip down your arm as you step down onto the boat.

jack’s opposite hand darts out, grabbing the bag before it can fall off your arm - putting it back on your shoulder properly.

you look up at him, swallowing thickly. “thanks.”

jack walks away without a word, his touch that was, just seconds ago, all you could feel, was gone - leaving you feeling rather chilled under the blistering summer sun.

you huff, shaking your head clear of any thoughts of jack and his odd behaviour.

the boat took out onto the water just moments later, which helped in distracting your brain - the smell of fresh water and the wind on your face providing a new focus. it took quinn almost 15 minutes to find the ‘perfect spot’, before anchoring down near the sand bar he always ended up at anyways.

trevor and jack waste no time, and jump of the boat and into the michigan water while quinn was still dropping the anchor down into the water.

the idea of sitting with alex and ashley as the two of them cuddle and giggle to themselves was something you did not want to be witness to - so swimming it is. you quickly follow suit, stripping off your band tshirt turned cover up, leaving you in your bathing suit.

quinn rushes past you, cannonballing into the water. the commotion has trevor looking in the direction of the boat, watching as you throw your top into your bag - wiping the drops of water off your arms from quinn’s cannonball.

“looking hot, y/n!” trevor shouts at you, hands cupped around his mouth to further project his already loud voice.

you laugh warmly at his teasing as you make your way down towards the swimming platform - the last thing g you want to do is try and jump in and accidentally flash quinn, trevor and jack your nipple.

quinn laughs gently, pushing trevor under the water as a form of lackluster punishment for his degrading comment.

you swallow your laughter, and ignore the feeling of eyes on you as you begin to take the steps down into the water - quinn and trevor still laughing and bickering in the distance. the water is feeling cold from the temperature drop last night, and you quiver as you become fully emerged in the lake.

you practically doggy paddle towards the area of sand bar, and once you’re close enough, you grab onto quinn from behind - your small, cold hands gripping the muscles of his broad shoulders as you attempt to hold your torso above the water. "it's so cold, oh my god."

"you're fine," trevor insists, swimming up beside you, a small splash of water hitting your torso as he flicks it at you.

"trevor.” you warn sternly, pointing at him accusingly. “we’re not splashing.”

suddenly, quinn spins to face you and your hands slips off his wet shoulder from his sudden movement. the smirk on his face has your stomach dropping, and you take a step back through the water.

quinn sends a splash towards you, water sloshing up your arms and further wetting your bathing suit top. trevor continues and follows suit, soaking you with lake water as they splash you like children.

you try and escape the attack, backing away from them with your hands raised in an attempt at a surrender. “guys, seriously?!”

under the water, a piece of slimy seaweed is disturbed from your quick movements, and the green water plant grazes your calf. you screech at the foreign touch, hopping backwards to escape it. the water splashes up and around you at your quick and frantic jump, completely drenching you.

suddenly, your cold back come in contact with something unfamiliar- but not foreign. behind you, you feel warm skin tense and chest muscles move smoothly as you unexpectedly back into them.

you swallow, and you whip around and meet the harsh eyes of jack.

"careful," jack’s voice was calm, but still sharp like he was demanding something from you. it was like you were inconveniencing him by simply being in the same water as him, and his stern gaze was almost taunting as he looked over your face.

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

jack doesn’t say anything else. he makes his way over to the back to the boat, and pulls himself out of the water and onto the swimming platform effortlessly. he shakes out his hair, water spraying all around him - the droplets reflecting brightly in the sun as they fall off him.

you look away, jack’s typical weird behaviour leaving you feeling rather annoyed.

jack didn't speak or even look in your direction for the remainder of the afternoon - a sour attitude radiating off of him for the rest of the boat outing.

when you all get back to shore a couple hours after departing, jack had gotten off the boat first, not bothering in helping with tying up the ropes or bringing up any loose stuff from inside the boat.

you watch as he walks up to the deck a few feet away, and immediately plops himself on top of sydney, who was laying on a lounge chair tanning.

you hear luke tell his brother to get a room as he flips burgers at the grill with beatrice at his side, and your mood is suddenly very sour. you exit the boat with a scowl on your face, your arms full of even more stuff than you brought down that morning - no thanks to jack and his no help.

you quickly walk pass the four of them on the back deck, shooting a harsh glare in jacks direction before heading inside.

three: the kitchen

when you excused yourself from the warm comfort of the bonfire to use the bathroom and grab yourself another seltzer, you weren't expecting to end up crying before making it back outside.

but here you are - warm, salty tears falling heavy on the screen of your phone. on your screen, the same video is replaying over again, the familiar sound of your ex boyfriends laugh ringing in your ears as you listen through dylan duke's snapchat story. it was an innocent post really, dylan was clueless to the activities going on behind him and mark as the two talked away on the private story. ethan was seen in the background, laughing with a girl before going in and cuddling into her neck.

the breakup, although you're not actively having romantic feelings, still hurt, and watching ethan move on wasn't the easiest thing to witness.

you sniffle quietly, watching the video play out once more before you exit snapchat - closing off the app roughly. you wipe your leaking nose with the back of your hand, cleaning yourself up of any salty tears.

behind you, the patio door creaks open and just as quickly, it closes. jack walks in behind you, his cheeks tinted red from the day outside in the sun.

you swallow thickly, swiftly looking away so he doesn't catch your puffy, red eyes. you almost want to laugh in this moment - because, of course it was jack of all people who would walk in when you're on the borderline of an emotional breakdown. you reach into the box of white claws left open on the island - not in the fridge because you preferred them warm (you'll have to thank whoever left them out for you).

just as you pull out your desired flavour, the sound of a bottle cap sounds on the counter top, followed by the sloshing sounds of jack pouring his hard liquor into a cup.

your eyes flicker up, watching jack's diet coke mix with the clear liquor at the bottom of his plastic cup. you can smell the woodsy bonfire smell off his clothes, mixing with his usual spicy cologne.

suddenly, he looks away from his drink and across the island at you. his eyes dart between yours, like he was analyzing your somber expression - then his gaze moves around your face, noticing your blotchy cheeks and pink puffy lips. jack looks away for a second, brows pulling tight as he completes his drink. "why are you crying this time?”

the sound of your full can hitting the counter top echoes throughout the empty house and jack looks up rather quickly, meeting your eyes again. your shoulders deflate - too disappointed to even feel proper anger. "seriously?" you sigh, and your tone clearly indicates that you're feeling upset by his question.

jack shrugs once, wiping up some melted ice with one of the crumpled napkins that had been abandoned on the kitchen island. "well?" his words are knowing- his tone condescending.

you feel yourself beginning to tear up for the second time tonight, expect for some reason the tears currently threatening to fall felt more painful than the ones from ethan. jack doesn't say anything else and only looks at you expectantly- waiting for you to further breakdown.

you huff - all earlier feelings of sadness are quickly replaced with irritation and frustration caused by jack and his insufferable attitude towards you. "why do you treat me so terribly, jack? fuck," you sigh, wiping at your face angrily as you feel a few unwanted tears fall. "I came on this vacation to try and relax and forget about the past few weeks by spending time with my friends, and you have made it your mission to keep me miserable. god, even your girlfriend has been treating me better than you have, and she's a stranger." you finish roughly, swallowing thickly as you try and gauge jack's face for his reaction to your outburst.

you feel a little embarrassed about ranting about your emotions and anger towards jack...to jack. but you hold your ground, keeping you gaze on him.

jack clears his throat thickly. "she's not my girlfriend."

you laugh in disbelief, the sound mixing with a scoff. is that all he had to say? no apology? no reasoning for his seemingly amplified hate towards you this vacation? jack looks away from your somber face, and you have all the answers you need.

without another glance, you grab the white claw off the counter, the metal can scraping against the granite as you do so. you quickly make your way back outside, walking through the dimly lit backyard - saved from the fire pit glow.

you take your original seat on one of the blue campfire chairs, curling your legs under yourself as you look towards the roaring, tangerine flames.  beside you, you can feel luke eyeing you curiously - trying to analyze your exhausted expression. you don't give him the satisfaction though, keeping your eyes trained on the fire as you take a sip of your drink.

roughly five minutes pass before jack comes back outside, no drink cup in sight. you watch through the light of the bonfire as he sits next to sydney, and the two of them exchange a brief conversation before sydney turns away from him completely- a look of disbelief on her face.

you see jack shrug grumpily just before you move your attention away from them - you've had plenty enough jack for the night.

it isn't ten minutes later you find yourself becoming overwhelmed with exhaustion and you excuse yourself from the dying bonfire to head up to bed.

four: the injury

your face scrunches up involuntarily, the strong taste of tequila burning and warming your throat as you down another shot.

once you manage to swallow the alcohol, you holler in your own mini celebration- the affects of many, many, many drinks controlling you and your actions completely.

on the speaker you’d placed somewhere in the backyard earlier into the late night, the familiar chords of a drake song begin to play, and you gasp happily. “I looooovvvvveeeee this song!” you drag out your wording, the sentence slurred together in a drunken manner.

trevor laughs at you near the dying bonfire, his head dropping in an amused embarrassment. a couple other laughs are heard nearby, but you don’t find yourself caring all that much. after your previous miserable night and another demeaning conversation with jack, you told yourself you’d allow yourself get more loose. you didn’t necessarily mean getting sloshed by yourself, but a win is a win.

you practically squeal in delight, coming to a skipping halt infront of the youngest hughes brother. you pout largely, “come dance with me lukey."

thankfully, luke is a good sport and allows you to take ahold of his hands and pull him out of his caping chair - although, he is the one is pulling himself up because drunk you is one misstep from completely toppling over. the corner of luke’s mouth quirks into a smirk as you wave his arms around for him - belting out the lyrics to the song without hesitation.

letting go of luke, you take a wobbly step onto the picnic table you’d been around all night, sidestepping the hoodie you’d been wearing before the alcohol warmed you up. your hips sway to the music, and you smile warmly. you spin around on the wooden planks, but your state has taken away all your sense of balance and stability, so you’re closer to the edge than you expected.

your foot slips over the edge, and you fall onto the gravelled surface of the fire pit area.

“oh shit.” trevor winces - luke had tried to catch you before you hit the ground but his reflex’s had failed him, and trevor is met with you laying uncomfortably on the gravel.

beside him, jack shoots up from his chair, a look of undeniable concern on his soft features. trevor stands as well, both of them making their way over to help in assisting you. everyone else had previously gone to bed, and if it was sober you seeing that trevor, luke and jack being the only options to help you in your current state- you’d shit your pants.

but you’re drunk, so all you can do is focus on the burning sensation on your skin and immediate ache all over your body. “ouch,” you whine. once you’re eyes focus again, you get a proper look at the palm of your hand, and the sight of the raw wound has tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

drunk, embarrassed and hurt wasn’t your best look.

trevor curses again, "luke help me find the first aid kit," he stands from his previous squatting position next to you as he finished checking you over, nudging the youngest brother on his thick shoulder.

before the two of them disappear from your sight, luke looks back at you sternly, pointing a finger at you. “stay here.”

you’re left with nobody but jack. the gravel is cool on your thighs, and the dwindling fire is doing nothing to warm your shivering muscles. tearily, you look over at jack. "i'm sorry," you sniff, eyes darting back down to examine your palm. blood is mixing with bits of dirt and minuscule stones, making your wound sting terribly. "I slipped really bad."

you look at him again, his crouched position making it easier for you to do so. jack’s brows pull together tightly, his gaze flickering over your blotchy face. “you're fine, y/n. stop crying."

despite the harsh tone, jack takes ahold of your hand gently - one of his hands wrapping along your wrist while the other cradles the underside of your hand.

he brings your wounded hand towards his face, and immediately starts gently blowing on your palm. the cool air from his mouth helps soothe the pain temporarily, and it helps keep your tears at ease.

the night air suddenly feels even colder, and the temperature drop combined with the cool air on your palm has you shifting uncomfortably - you were cold.

jack stops, his eye gentle but words still firm. "stay still."

you sniffle again, and wipe your leaky nose with the back of your good hand. "I wanna go inside i'm cold."

"yeah, okay.” jack sighs quickly, moving his body so that he’s able to help you properly get to your feet. his one hand still cradles your wounded hand, while his other wraps around the dip of your waist. the feeling of his torso on yours is rather comforting, and the heat of his body radiating through his sweatshirt instantly makes you feel warmer.

he shuts the back door with his foot, and the thump of it closing echos in the empty kitchen. jack lets go of you in favour of turning on the kitchen sink, and you’re pretty sure you pout at the loss of contact.

it doesn’t take long before the water runs to comfortable temperature, and jack brings your hand towards the stream - your palm angled upwards and slightly tilted so the warm water flushers the scrape.

you hiss through your teeth, muttering a curse. the sting has a new wave of tears prickling at your eyes, and you can feel your throat grow thick with emotion. "that really stings." you admit gently, using your shoulder to wipe away a tear as it falls from your bloodshot eye.

jack looks at you softly, nodding with an understanding expression. “I know," he whispers - a sweet, silent echo in the quiet house. his fingers flex around your wrist, running over your pulse point delicately. jack looks down, back at your hand, "you're doing good though."

you swallow harshly, blinking away the millions of emotions flowing freely through your body. jack has never been so gentle with you, or as kind to you as he is currently being. it is actually really nice and you find yourself smiling gently - despite the burning sensation on your hand.

trevor rounds the corner into the kitchen, luke following with the first aid kit tucked under his bicep. "I thought you were staying outside." luke says knowingly, eyeing the two of you suspiciously once he registers what is actually happening infront of his very eyes.

trevor sends the youngest hughes a look, both of them having the same confused expression on their faces.

"she was cold." jack interjects immediately, answering for you.

thankfully, there was nothing too deeply embedded in your raw skin, so the rest of the cleaning process went pretty smoothly. jack had helped dry your hand as gently as he possibly could with paper towel, and then luke had poured the peroxide onto the raw scratches. that had you wincing uncomfortably again, your head hitting against jack’s outer bicep as you dropped your gaze to the floor.

luke delicately wrapped your hand in a bandage, sighing gently as the whole ordeal of it all came to a close. "alrighty, let's get you to bed." trevor says tiredly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he begins to guide you through the kitchen.

just before you exit, you find jack’s gaze on you, his expression still gentle. you smile tightly, "thank you." your words are still a little slurred and you definitely sound tired, but jack can hear you just fine.

he nods once, a very small closed mouth smile making a brief appearance.

five: the hike + the dishes

the sound of nature around you was pure magic. you breathe in happily amidst your huffy exhale, continuing to walk on the beautiful hiking trail along side the hughes' lake property.

alex rushes past you, ashley following soon after as she tries to beat him in a foot race. you smile happily, watching alex turn on her and scoop ashley in his arms. she squeals delightfully, letting the hockey player manhandle her.

a pang of sadness hits your chest watching your friend so happy and infatuated with someone. you missed being in love and the feelings of want and need that came with it. you missed having somebody constantly in your corner and somebody waiting for you at home.

it wasn't that ethan was ever a bad boyfriend, but the relationship wasn't fulfilling enough. it was simply just easy - it lacked deep emotion and yearning.

you watch ashley blush as alex kisses her cheek quickly and you can't help but wish somebody was as obsessed with you as alex was with your best friend.

weirdly enough, it has you thinking about jack. when you woke up this morning with a blurry memory and a bandage around your hand, to say you were confused would be an understatement. you felt oddly peaceful among it all though, and that was even more worrisome.

luke told you that you'd fallen and scrapped your hand - which makes sense. but there was something else in the air, you could tell by the way luke and trevor seemed smug while you all ate breakfast, and how jack seemed especially quiet. jack had yet to make any unnecessarily rude comments today, which was of course nice - but weirdly enough it didn't feel right.

"let me get on your back," trevor comes up beside you, a wide grin on his tanned face. it pulls you from your thoughts, and you push down any lingering confusion about the off vibe from this morning.

you roll your eyes gently, but stop walking. you squat down slightly, locking your knees so trevor can climb on. "hop on trev."

he wastes no time getting onto your back, and you grunt out from the added weight to your body. you only make it twenty small, slow steps before tapping out - breathless with laughter.

trevor offers you a piggy back ride as an apology for borderline collapsing you under his weight, which you take happily. once you're secure, trevor instantly makes alex race with ashley on his back and of course alex complies - the four of you darting away on the trail.

from afar, luke breathes a pleasant laugh, watching the four of you run around like loose chickens. he falls into line with his second oldest brother, the two of them walking in a comfortable silence, finally without the constant pestering from trevor.

luke has noticed jacks sudden quietness, and he too is a bit confused on what exactly is going on. luke thinks jack must feel guilty for acting his typical way around you, and that's why jack has been more reserved today.

luke clears his throat gently, eyeing jack. "this is good for her, you know. she's been so sad recently because of ethan...i've been worried about her."

jack swallows, eyes trained in the distance. he watches you laugh at something ashley says - your body folding completely over and your mouth opening as you do that scream laugh you always do when something is truly funny. he tears his eyes away from you, gaze landing on the mud coloured path below his feet.

luke continues, "and listen jack, I know you hate her, and you guys have this uncomfortable bickering thing going on but- "

"I don't hate her," jack interrupts his brother sternly, "I've never hated her."

luke's brows twitch slightly, raising ever so subtly and he carefully studies his brothers expression, "okay, well, I don't think y/n knows that. and whatever you guys are doing, it makes her really sad - I can tell."

luke walks away, jogging to catch up with you all. he tells ashley he needs a turn on alex's back, which immediately starts another race conversation.

jack sighs, blinking up towards the trees. the conversation with his younger brother, combined with last night, really has the way he's been handling his emotions and actions towards you, not sitting right in his stomach. he feels extremely guilty, and he wishes he would of handled the situation differently.

jack looks away from the tree line, and finds you looking back at him softly over the line of your exposed shoulder. you look slightly confused, but jack can tell you're trying to hide your curiosity by keeping your face neutral.

he sighs to himself, and makes his way over to you and the rest of the group.

—

the sky is overcome with darkness, and a comfortable silence enveloped the inside of the lake house as 10 p.m. approached.

luke and beatrice were watching a movie with ashley and quinn downstairs in the den, trevor had been sleeping on the couch for the past hour, and alex had fallen asleep in his bedroom just 20 minutes ago - sydney even before that after she claimed she wasn't feeling well before dinner.

the silence was peaceful, and even as trevor begins to snore gently across from you, it's not a bothersome sound - it's familiar and comfortable.

you stand from your spot nestled under throws on the couch, leaving the living room and a sleeping trevor. the hike earlier had pretty much tired the majority of you out, and the ones who hadn't come on the hike were still tired from the sun they'd been in back at the house all day.

so although you were also ready for bed, you knew the dishes sitting in the sink from spaghetti dinner needed to be done. after all, it's the least you could do with the kind hospitality the hughes brothers had showed you on this vacation.

you've got soap suds up your forearms as you work on the large plates - cleaning them of their saucy, cheesy mess. the hum on the refrigerator and the sound of impractical jokers from the living room tv provide the perfect white noise, and you find yourself getting lost in your own head as you washed the dishes.

footsteps approach gently, somebody rounding the corner behind you. "hi," jack says, slowing in his steps.

you look over your shoulder, "hi." you put the last clean plate into your designated clean side of the sink, and you wipe your pruned hands on your bottoms. 

jack leans against the countertop, and the muscles in his forearms shift as he grips the edge of the granite. "if I knew you were doing dishes, I wouldn't of brought these down."

you notice the couple of small plates and the mug jack had put on the island counter, presumably from his bedroom upstairs.

you shrug gently, reaching across the small space between you and jack to grab the small stack of dishes. you shrug quickly, dropping them into your soapy side of the sink. "I don't mind."

jack rounds the side of the island and moves over towards you. his socked foot nudges against yours as jack borderline lunges across you, trying to take his dishes back. "i'm not going to make you do my dishes."

you laugh gently, "it's fine, really." you pick up the scratchy sponge, but jack snatches it out from your hands just as you do. you huff gently, one of your eyebrows raising in an amused manner. "jack, what are you doing?"

"i'll do them." he insists firmly. his fingers slide smoothly over yours, almost interlocking them under the soapy, warm water your hands are submerged under.

you don't give in, fingers tightening on rim of the new jersey devils branded coffee mug. with suspicion, you continue to eye him. "why are you being weird?"

he laughs once, a deep rumble of disbelief. "i'm not being weird."

"you are." you chime instantly.

jack is practically trying to pry your hands off the mug, and while he's focused on that task, you snatch the damp sponge back. you look at him smugly, waving the sponge infront of his face, a gentle ha passing your lips.

he sighs gently, "you're the one being a weirdo and doing my dishes after I said I can do them - you're not my maid."

you dip the sponge into the water and begin to scrub the coffee stains on the inside of the mug - soap splashing over the edge of the sink and wetting your pastel pink tank top. " I know that, but i'm trying to be a good guest."

jack watches you focus on the dishes, your eyebrows slightly furrowed and tongue poking out to wet your bottom lip. he finds himself mimicking you, and his own tongue licks over his lips to moisten them.

you look back up at him curiously, waiting for an inevitable response.

he clears his throat quietly, "you can be a good guest by doing nothing." without warning, he steps closer into your space, bumping you gently off to the side with his hip. the suprise of it all has you going freely, your hands leaving the dishes involuntarily. jack smiles teasingly, running the sponge over the front of a desert plate left from last nights chocolate brownies.

you huff, pushing your way back to the sink. jack's much stronger than you though, so he doesn't budge at your attempt to push him out of the way. in a mixture of amusement and disbelief, you laugh out, your hands resting on your hips as you look at jack - your eyes almost twinkling with delight. "that's not me - that’s not how I do things."

jack snickers knowingly, because he's well aware now of how you are. you've always shown compassion and caring for others and have always taken on that polite, motherly role that always has you thinking of others. it's something jack has inevitably always noticed when it came to you - he notices more about you than he allows himself to admit.

you reach into the sink quickly, taking the last two plates out of the dirty water and bringing them to your chest. immediately, your tank top is becoming soaked and drops of lukewarm water fall off the ceramic and hit the kitchen floor mat between you and jack.

jack looks at you with something similar to shock, his tongue poking against his cheek in a way to mask his growing smirk.

"you're ridiculous." he hums.

you back away slowly, the dishes still clutched in your hands. one of your brows raise challengingly, rounding the corner of the island counter. "yeah?"

jack's slinky smirk is the last thing you register before he darts towards you, coming around the other side of the island as he attempts to grab you.

you spin away from him, turning your torso around so that you've got the plates out of reach.

jack laughs, reaching around you in another attempt at grabbing the wet dishes - although now, the plates are becoming dry with your tank top soaking up all the water.

you giggle, and try to slip between the counter and jack's torso, quickly, to try and create some space between jack and the plates. it's an unsuccessful attempt, and jack pushes you against the island with his hips. now that you're trapped, jack plucks the plates right out of your grip, holding them out and away from you.

the press of his body on yours has you feeling syrupy - the time around you coming to a hard, screeching halt. you look up at him gently, watching as jack's previous smile falters, a much more serious expression taking over his flushed face.

you swallow, anticipating building low in your belly. your eyes don't leave jacks, even when his arm lowers, putting the plates on the counter with a gentle clink. your heartbeat increases, and you can feel it pumping loudly in your ears. in that moment, you and jack forget about everything- you forgot how trevor is only a room away, you forget the stupid arguments and the anger...it all fades into the background.

jacks tongue passes through his lips, wetting them slowly as he hovers over you. his eyes flicker between your eyes before finding your plump lips - slightly parted as a hitched breath is pulled between them.

just as softy, jack's hand comes up towards your face and he places it against your cheek, cradling your sunkissed, freckled skin. his palm is warm and a little sweaty, but it makes everything so much more raw.

his thumb strokes the shell of your ear gently, a little comforting movement that has you holding your breath.

jack leans down, nudging his sloped nose against yours sweetly before he kisses you deeply, lips enveloping yours in a tight, passionate embrace.

instantly, you find yourself grabbing ahold of jack, desperately needing to feel him under your hands. your fingers grip the material of his shirt, pulling him tightly so he becomes impossibly closer.

it was almost odd in a way, kissing somebody who before this very moment, you thought hated you. which was why you were left slightly confused on why kissing jack hughes felt so right.

your movements become more desperate- frantic. jack lifts you effortlessly, sitting you on top of the kitchen island. your legs spread instinctively, and he wastes to time slotting his body between your thighs. with his lips still messily on yours, jack pulls your hips to the edge of the counter, bumping your clothed crotches together.

between you, one of jacks hands rest on the edge of your waist band, two fingers dipping underneath the top of your leggings - teasing you.

you're body feels like it's on fire - that burning sensation you've always had around jack is just as prevalent as ever. when jack's hand slides down the threshold of your tights and he begins to palm you though your thin panties, you pull away mere inches, breathless.

"please," you whine quietly, bucking your hips so that jacks fingers slip over your wet underwear. it's successful, and he thumbs around your clit deliciously.

"fuck - i got you." he nods against you, hooking your panties off to the side underneath your leggings. he curses again as he slides his ring and middle finger through your folds, collecting your arousal and bringing it up towards your clit and down again.

you whine pathetically, head falling backwards - disconnecting your lips from jacks.

his free hand glides over your clothes chest, passing over your painfully hardened nipples, before he rounds to the back of your neck - pulling you back upwards so you're looking at him.

"you're so wet," he whispers, pressing a sloppy kiss to the junction of your neck. your pulse jumps, and your hips move again - desperately trying to get jack's fingers inside you.

you moan, watching the outline of jack's hand move against your core through your pants. it's all so dirty and erotic - you don't think you've ever been this turned on at the thought of being fingered.

jack shushes you, his usual demanding tone present. "be quiet for me pretty girl, okay? you think you can be quiet?"

you're completely at his mercy - not even having the slightest urge to tease him and bite back at his question. all you can do is nod quickly, breathless as you gaze into his warm eyes.

at that, two of jacks calloused fingertips tease your dripping entrance, feeling through the mushy arousal. you bite your lip, holding onto the moans that are on the brink of passing through your lips. his eyes don't leave yours while he pushes the entire length of his tail fingers into you, and you gasp at the adrenaline of it all.

jack's mouth falls open slightly, basking in the feeling of your gooey walls tightly welcoming his fingers. he begins to pump them in and out of your entrance, and even with the limited space, it still feels amazing.

you grab his face, pulling jack in for another needy kiss. it's mostly hot breath and spit, but neither of you seem to mind.

the way jacks fingers expertly work your spongy walls and the feeling of his palm bumping your clit deliciously, has the tiny coil in your stomach tightening - ready to snap.

you pull back, "i'm going to cum."

"fuck," jack smirks quickly, so fast you can't even register it, and he leans back into you - pressing a sweet kiss to your blotchy cheek. "cum for me, baby, I can feel your pussy clenching down on me - you're so beautiful."

it's the final push you needed, the band snapping and sending your body over the edge into a euphoric state. you see white, releasing your juices all over jack's hand and wetting the seam of your leggings. you start to moan, but he silences you, pressing his wet lips against yours.

his fingers come to a slow stop, allowing you to ride out your blissed high. you hum against him, running a hand through his grown out hair, tugging gently at the roots.

jack moans into your mouth at the feeling, automatically grinding his hard dick against your wet crotch.

the couch creeks, and the sound of trevor's socked feet hit the hardwood floor loudly - signalling he's awake and on the move.

quickly, jack removes himself from between your legs, and you hop off the counter just as fast. your legs almost give out on you, but thankfully you catch yourself.

trevor walks into the kitchen just as you take ahold of the plates, bringing them back over to the sink in hopes to appear busy. he is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a big yawn echoing through the kitchen- trevor's jaw cracking.

jack fixes his obvious hard-on, his back turned to his friend. he hopes trevor doesn't notice, and thankfully the ducks forward is too sleepy and can't even properly open his eyes.

"what are you two doing?" trevor hums curiously, moving past you in favour of grabbing a glass from the cabinet.

you can barley hear him over the thumping heartbeat in your ears - your hands are shaky under the now cold, soapy water in the sink.

"nothing, just cleaning up." thankfully, jack answers trevor in an appropriate way - seeming completely nonchalant.

as trevor opens the fridge in search of the brita, you quickly glance over your shoulder, seeking out jack. as you do, jack meets your eyes and he sends you a quick wink. the fridge clicks shut, and you both look away.

six: the beginning

there was something so peaceful about the sunset - you'd take it over the sunrise anytime of the year. the stunning shades of fuscha mixed with the dark reds and neon oranges - combining with the upcoming navy night sky. watching the world infront of you go to sleep was just so refreshing.

the evening was warm, and a light breeze slinked through the air providing the perfect temperature combination for an approaching summer evening. the wood of the dock is slightly harsh against your bare thighs, but you'll put up with it for some much needed time away from inside.

after jack fingering you on the kitchen island the night before, your mind has been reeling with what it all meant. you had come to your own realization that you weren't fighting with jack because you didn't like him - but rather the opposite. you've been seeking his approval for years, desperately wanting him to like you the way you've always liked him.

you had been pushing those feelings so deep down that when you came to the realization, you almost didn't believe yourself. you don't know what last night meant for jack, and you didn't know how jack actually felt about you.

this morning, when you were all gathered in the kitchen, snacking on your respective breakfast foods, jack had eyed you teasingly, hiding his growing smirk with the side of his cereal bowl. you had blushed into your glass of orange juice, choosing to not look back - too scared to get caught.

then you had thought about sydney, the girl jack had brought to the lake house to join your vacation. jack told you a few nights ago that they weren't dating, but they also didn't seem like just friends.

everything piling on top of one another was very quickly becoming overwhelming, and for the entire day you were left wallowing in your own confused thoughts.

so that's why as the sun began to set, you came out to the boat dock, resting quietly by yourself - trying to tame the tornado made up of thoughts and ideas in your head. 

the sound of footsteps gently approach behind you, echoing against the faded wood. you turn down the taylor swift playing quietly on your phone until it's borderline silent, looking over your shoulder to find out who was making their way over to you.

jack smiles gently, looking very athletic in his black lulu shorts that displayed his thigh muscles delightfully, paired with a team branded tshirt. once he's close enough, he greets you gently before dropping down beside you. jack sits in a similar position, resting his forearms on his kneecaps, while you are hugging your legs to your chest.

it's silent for a few minutes, both of you bathing in the warm setting sunshine and basking in the comfortable silence each of your provided.

you choose to speak first, a slightly shaky exhale leaving your lips. "I don't know where to go from here, jack." you admit vulnerably, tearing your eyes away from the still water and looking over to him. "I mean, for years I thought you hated me and until last night I was set on that, but now...I don't even know what's going on." you laugh gently, tone thick with disbelief.

his brows pull together tightly, creating a little divet in the middle of his face. "I've never hated you...ever."

"then why did it feel like you did?"

jack watches the way your eyes gloss over, the moisture shining under the bright sun. he sighs gently, running a hand through his hair quickly - an attempt to try and relax his beating heart. "I thought that you hated me, y/n. so I would only argue with you because....I don't know, fuck." he curses, taking a shaky breath. "no - fuck this. I like you, really like you. so if you laughed at somebody else's jokes or if you were dating somebody else, I'd get so jealous that I would immediately go into this defensive zone- pushing you away with really horrible words."

he continues, "I was an asshole. I thought that you hated me and that made me mad, because I really wanted you. and I know that's a horrible excuse but it's the truth. I wanted you and thought I couldn't have you, so i'd lash out at you. i'm so sorry."

your breath hitches. you can't believe what you've just heard, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn't some longing dream you hadn't woke up from just yet. although his words seem authentic, you still feel weary. he could just be trying to get back in your pants, or maybe he was looking for some sadistic way to hurt you - maybe he actually did hate you. "how do I know you're not just saying this?"

jack laughs once gently, warm gaze looking out towards the water. he wets his lower lip before he looks back at your watery eyes and shaky lips. he sighs, "I didn't forget you and ethan broke up, I only asked because I wanted to make sure you didn't get back together - shitty, I know, but I couldn't think of another way to do it, I needed to know." he continues, "when I went grocery shopping with quinn, I was the one who picked out orange juice because I knew you liked it. I made sure nobody put the white claws in the fridge because I know you like your seltzers warm. when you hurt yourself by the fire pit, I blew on your scrape because I remember one time you told quinn that cool air always made your cuts feel better. I knew you'd be the one doing the dishes last night because you can never relax, so that's why I brought mine down - because any excuse to be near you, i’ll take."

you say his name, throat thick with emotion.

jack swallows thickly, voice dropping into a deep sigh. "I brought sydney here to try and make you jealous. and I know that's horrible, and I apologized to her a million times already. everything i've said to you and done to you is horrible, and i'm so fucking sorry."

"jack," you begin, "all that stuff you just said...I don't realize how well you know me."

he smiles gently, "I've had many years of watching you from a distance to learn."

your nose scrunches playfully, "that sounds really creepy."

he laughs, a real laugh that he usually only lets out around trevor and his brothers. but here he was, his shoulder brushing yours as he admits his feelings for you and laughs at your teasing. "it does doesn't it?"

you hum, shrugging your shoulders. "I can't say anything really, because i've been watching you from afar this whole time as well. I like you so much, jack. i'm so sorry for everything; the arguing, the rude comments and everything else. I should've just admitted my feelings - to you and myself."

he smiles, and the arm closest to you moves to wrap around your shoulders. jack brings your body into his, tucking you into his chiseled torso comfortably. "you're forgiven." his tone is teasing, and when you look up at him with a faux scowl, jack is already watching you playfully.

you pout your lips at him, feigning disappointment from his teasing comment.

jack rolls his eyes amusingly, and the last thing you see is his slinky smirk before he gives in and presses his lips to yours. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Hello i have a idea, how about Yandere Andrew and Ashley x Older Sister Reader with plot being something like

Y/N never cared about Andrew and Ashley cus she find them annoying, she never tried to be good sister even a little and didn't pay attention to their strange behavior towards her, bc despite her careless they loved her and always clings to her and ruins her relationships with boys and girls. And after another ruined relationship, Y/N finally fed up and leaves them, they of course tried to use manipulations and even threats in hopes that Y/N would stay and be theirs but all this things doesn't worked on her. After a two weeks Andrew and Ashley manages to find Y/N....with new boyfriend which makes their blood boil, bc Y/N is theirs only

Facts - 1. Y/N hates mom and dad as much as Ashley, thats why she lived with Andrew and Ashley

2. Y/N is not any better than Andrew and Ashley. Y/N kills some dudes before just for fun

So what do you think?

Thank you anon I needed the motivation TwT

TW: Manslaughter and Murder

Yandere!Ashley and Andrew x Older Sister!Reader

You’ve been fucked over since birth

Teen parents, one who was spineless, the other who was a manipulative bitch- both who had no idea what they were doing or how to use a goddamn condom

Yeah, you were screwed

By age 4 you learned that you can only really count on yourself in this shit bag of a world

Unfortunately by then, your mother already popped out two other crotch demons to ignore

They thought you were such an independent child, why not have another? This one is also quiet and doesn’t complain- so again!

They stopped having kids after Ashley came around- and if you’re going to give your little sister credit for anything, it’s that she taught them to use protection next time

Or convince mom to get her tubes tied and avoid this whole thing again, truthfully you didn’t care how they went about it- so long as you didn’t have to deal with any more annoying little shits

Ashley and Andrew were always clinging to, which was a normal thing you heard little siblings do….but god they took it to the extreme

Making up excuses to leave class so they could go bother you in yours, following you around all day, Ashley would try to climb you and cling to your back so she would always be close to you

You hated it, you hated it so much

“Y/N?…”

You groaned, jostling in your bed to turn your back to the little shit. You just wanted to sleep, it was the one time you didn’t have to deal with either of them but here’s shit one now!

Andy reached a hand out and poked your back, or where he presumed it to be under the covers, “Y/N?” He persisted, “I know you’re awake.”

“How the fuck do you know that?..” you mumbles from under the covers.

Andy reached his hands out and tugged on the blanket to try and pull it off, “You never sleep on your side, your body naturally turns you on to your back. And you have a specific look you make when asleep.” Andy tried to replicate the look, an open mouth and shut eyes. His lip twitched a little for authenticity.

You sat up, staring daggers at him, “Do you watch me sleep? Little creep—“ you threw your pillow at his face, which had the opposite effect you hoped for. You wanted him to feel dejected, walk solemnly back to his bed while you struggled to ever sleep again. But no, your little brother just laughed and hugged the pillow tight.

The noise caused the small form under the covers of the bed across the room to rustle. Great, you both woke LeyLey. The lump under her covers shot up, pulling at the starry blanket so she could look at you two.

“Ooohhhh, are we sleeping in Y/N’s bed tonight!” She sounded excited, crawling off of her bed and rushing over to Andy’s side. She noticed the pillow and tried to take it, “Give!”

“No way!” Andy held the pillow close to his chest like a treasured gift, “It’s mine! Y/N gave it to me!”

Actually I threw it at you, you thought- but the two were too focused on their tussling to notice you watching unamused. God at this rate they’re going to wake up mom and dad and then you’ll somehow get in trouble—

“You’re their older sister!” Mom would say, “You should be mediating them!”

Technically you shouldn’t. You should be asleep. Or not even born. Self deprecating aside, you would much rather go to sleep as soon as possible, and it’s clear Andy and LeyLey won’t leave unless you let them sleep with you.

So, with a sigh, you pull the covers away, “Get in here you two- and stop fighting over the pillow!” You snatch it from Andy, who gives you the look of a sad puppy you just kicked, “You’re gonna wake mom and dad.”

LeyLey looked ecstatic, hoping into your bed and climbing over you- making sure to ‘accidentally’ knee you in the groin. You wince, you may not have anything down there- but it still hurt! Andy was next, climbing up and settling down on the other side of you. He hugged your arm, smiling softly. LeyLey wrapped her tiny arms around your waist, as best as she could to hold on to you. You sat there, uncomfortably waiting for them to let go, only for their soft snoring to tell you they fell asleep.

Clinging to you.

You groan, this is going to be a long night.

You had hoped that as your siblings got older they wouldn’t need their big sister as much, oh how wrong you were

It seemed like the opposite was true- the older they got the more they needed you. The more they clung to you.

They always had an excuse for needing you, this happened so much that any friends you made drifted away from you

Which only gave you more time to spend with your ‘precious little siblings’

Eugh

You had planned to leave. To buy a bus ticket and drive far far away from your childhood home and your fucked up family

But then the quarantine hit

Mom and dad ditched, Ashley being the last one to see mom on her way out

But even with the two extra mouths gone, the rations drained fast and the wardens made no effort the feed the three of you

The laundry detergent looked tastier everyday

Besides the lack of food situation- Ashley and Andrew loved the quarantine

They got to be with their big sister 24/7

And holllyyy shit they abused that

Most mornings you would wake up to one of them in your bed, clinging to you like a leech

You stopped kicking them off after the 10th time, it just became a routine

Whenever you went into a room, conveniently they also needed to be in there

About to shower? Ashley needs to do the laundry!

Want to take a nap on mom and dad’s bed, Andrew’s looking for a book, he’ll even read it to you as a bedtime story. How thoughtful

It got to a point where it was just second nature to find them within 3 feet of you

Though there was only so much one person could take

And after the newscaster announced the quarantine would be extended for three more weeks, well….

You stared at the sleeping forms of your siblings, wanting to be 100% sure they were asleep before you enacted your plan. You pulled the covers off of yourself, quietly getting up. You’ve lived in this trash fire of an apartment for 24 years of your miserable life, and thankfully memorized the creaky spots on the ground to avoid.

You couldn’t spend another three weeks in here. The three of you ran out of food a little over a month ago, and you weren’t going to let paramedics find your starved corpse being clung on to by your siblings. Hell no!

Your eyes darted between Ashley and Andrew’s beds as you walked, one misstep and they’d ask where you were going- then everything would go to shit. Your hand slowly raised itself to the doorknob, quietly twisting it. You flinched as it cracked open- looking to see if anyone woke up. Ashley was closest to the door, but she slept like a corpse. Andrew on the other hand was a light sleeper, so it was mostly him you were worried about waking up. You gave a silent sigh as he turned out to still be asleep.

You tiptoed through the door, flinching as you tried to quietly close it. Once the door was shut, your hand hovered over the knob as you waited.

Silence!

You were just in the homestretch now. Your wallet was already in your pants pocket, really that was all you needed to be honest. You had no items of sentimental value to bring, no. You wanted to forget this place. Burn it to the ground in your mind.

You made your way to the balcony, Ashley stupidly left the key in it. You opened the door and took in the fresh air….well- as fresh as it could be with the air pollution. You looked over the balcony, searching as you spotted your escape. A rickety looking water spout. It looked faulty, like it was about to snap off of the building, if not that- just cutting your hand on it was enough to contract tetanus. But honestly, you didn’t care.

You hoisted yourself on to the balcony’s ledge, hugging the wall and swinging your foot over to hook around the spout. Success! Alright…you just gotta..

Hyping yourself up, you ripped the bandaid off and just got it over with. You succeed, you just have to shimmy down to your escape. You fail, you die.

Win-Win!

You succeed though, holding on to the water spout like your life depended on it. Which it did. With care and ease, you worked your way down the spout, until your feet touched the concrete ground.

“Hey!” A deep voice made your blood run cold. Turning your head, you shielded your eyes from the bright flashlight. The man behind it wore a uniform similar to the warden’s, he must work with them, “What are you doing?”

You needed to think fast. You looked around and noticed a stray brick at your feet. You whipped your head back to the warden, his eyes fixed on you as his free hand hovered over his gun.

It all happened faster than you could process. Chucking the brick at the asshole, he fell to the ground with a thud. You didn’t look at the body, didn’t bother to make sure he was still alive. You ran. And ran.

You’ve never ran so fast in your life.

You were free. Free!

Free from starving!

Free from any of this shit!

Sure you probably killed a man, but it was imperative to your own survival

Not like anyone knew it was you anyway

Ashley and Andrew were going to starve, so any connection people could make to your disappearance and the warden’s death will be gone soon.

You bought a bus ticket and high tailed it out of there

Got a new job, and saved up enough for your own shitty apartment

Sibling free too!

Life was…starting to look okay, for once.

We don’t talk about the people you mugged to help save up for this place though

That’s between you and whatever fucked up good there is in this world

….and the people you mugged. Them too

But- point is, you’ve got a job, an apartment, a boyfriend that you met through work

Everything was pretty okay

You fumbled with your keys, eventually getting them to turn the stupidly janky lock. God you needed to get better locks installed, the keyhole being stripped from years of wear and tear. Apparently the landlord refuses to get them changed. But hey, at least your door opened

You wish your door hadn’t opened.

Before you could take in the gruesome sight in front of you, the wretched stench of blood and decay hit your nose. It wafted into your open mouth, slack jawed from shock and grazed your tastebuds. You quickly slapped your hand over your mouth and nose, dry heaving to not throw up.

There, in the middle of your apartment was the cooling corpse of your boyfriend. His body was mutilated, blood being lazily cleaned by his attackers. A tall, messy black haired man was on his hands and knees, wiping at the blood- while overtop of your partner’s corpse was a woman with her own black haired pulled back into a ponytail.

Green and pink eyes.

….your siblings.

“Oh!” Ashley looked up, grinning ear to ear, “Y/N! You’re home!”

Andrew perked up as well, sitting on his knees now as he shot up like a meerkat. Both scrambled to their feet, clinging to your arms as you stared at the body in shock.

“Sorry for such a sloppy job, we’re normally cleaner,” Andrew’s words were trying to reassure you, but it was just doing the opposite, “He just wouldn’t die.”

“You really know how to pick em sis.” Ashley’s nails dug into your arm, her statement feeling more like a jab than a compliment.

Though your body was there, your mind wasn’t. It was running a mile a minute trying to answer so many questions. How did they find you? How did they get in? What’s with the candles? What’s with the weird runes on the floor?

You feel like none of those will be answered, and as your little siblings nuzzle against you like cats- the harsh reality dawns on you.

You’ll never escape them.

[zer0pm]

Imagine the reason why you failed to meet up with Leon and Ashley was because Luis kept leading you both into trouble.

You should have left this man in the sack.

You knew the moment he opened his mouth that you should have slapped the tape back on and turned around. Because he looked like trouble, more trouble than he was worth. And so far for however long you’ve been stuck with him, he hasn’t proven you wrong. Luis Serra is unequivocally the most insufferable man you have ever met.

“Remind me again how we got ourselves in this situation,” you huffed, the weight of your back pressed firmly against the door. The Spaniard is beside you, also using his weight to help keep the door closed. More accurately, to keep the monsters outside from forcing their way in and tearing you two to pieces. You can practically feel the wood splintering under each aggressive push and you both were struggling to keep hold.

The man’s face contorts to a slight wince, grey eyes cast down to the ground in mild guilt. “You know, my friend, everything happened so quickly. To recall every causal detail would be-”

“It was a rhetorical question!” you snap at him with an exasperated glare, your patience completely run thin. A violent jolt of the door nearly splits the wood off its hinges, raising the tension. “We can’t stay here forever, we got to do something.”

“De acuerdo.” Luis nods, quickly scanning the room for an exit. The dimly lit space was enclosed with no other obvious doors leading to another area but his eyes fall upon a tall wardrobe that looked hardly big enough for two people. He makes eye contact with you with a telling glint in his gaze and you immediately catch onto his plan. An unenthusiastic groan reverberates from your throat before you throw him a committed nod.

He adjusts his stance and waits for you to follow suit while you both were still supporting the door on its weakening frame. “On my count… ¡Uno-!”

Your whole body surges forward as you’re suddenly ripped away from the door by a strong hand around your wrist and practically dragged to the wardrobe. Luis pulls you into a tight embrace before hurriedly backing you both inside the enclosed space, using his free hand to seal the opening behind you shut.

You were about to yell at him asking what the hell happened to “two” and “three” but thought better of it at the terrifying sound of wood thunderously breaking from outside.

Booming footsteps stomp by your hiding spot and ominous mutterings in Luis’ native tongue fills the room. Judging by the varying noises, you deduce that there were at least a handful of plaga hunting you. To take them on in such tight quarters would be suicide so the best that either of you can hope for is that they eventually leave with the impression that you and Luis miraculously disappeared into another part of this godforsaken castle.

As you wait anxiously for your pursuers to give up their search here, you finally realize your close proximity to Luis. The space within the wardrobe was so tight, every inch of the front of your body pressed his. His spicy musk fills your nostrils, making you go dizzy. His breath fans against your lips and you subconsciously breathe it in, tasting his air upon your tongue. His body heat wraps around you with a warmth so inviting that you felt yourself tempted to lean into him. Being so close to this man was dangerous, he is standing still and yet already he’s overwhelming your senses effortlessly, ensnaring you in a mesmeric daze.

Luis feels you shudder and instinctively snakes the hand that was on your back to your shoulder, squeezing gently in a considerate attempt to ease your tensions. The comforting gesture makes you relax and you unwittingly fall into his hold. In the darkness, your noses bump. You immediately feel the muscles of his body stiffen, realization also clicking in his mind of your shared closeness.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of you moved. The sudden stillness causes your heart to pound in your chest harder than the looming dangers just a few feet away, survival becoming a mere afterthought and discarded in the back of your mind. Then finally, as if you are in a trance, you make the first move.

Your hands on his shoulders glide to his thick neck, thumbs curiously caress along the quickening pulse throbbing beneath the skin. The Adam’s apple in his throat bobs heavily under your soft touch. His warm breathing falls shallow, mingling with yours and turning the air between you two hot, thick, and heavy. You wished then that you can see his eyes, know what he was thinking. But the darkness obscured your vision and it was imperative that you two remained quiet while enemies lingered nearby, so every mood and intent that you can possibly think of can only be speculated by physical cues. But there were none. Aside from the hand on your shoulder, Luis remains completely stagnant.

Another expectant moment and still he does nothing. Disappointment slowly creeps into your heart and you began to remove your hands from his neck. The sound of rough scratching along the floorboard makes you twist your head in attention.

And that is when you felt it. The unmistakable softness of lips pressed upon the lobe of your ear. If you didn’t turn your head to the side-

Shivers tingle down your spine, sparks set off across your entire body. A sharp intake of breath escapes you and you thought for certain that you have forsaken you both. However, the steps and voices outside the wardrobe have receded, followed by the familiar scratching on the ground. Then all fell into silence.

Is it safe?

“Hueles bien,” his husky voice whispers absentmindedly, but you didn’t catch it over the sound of your blood pumping.

You whisper back, “What?”

Luis stutters, “I-I said that I think we’re good now.”

You’re fairly certain he wasn’t being truthful but didn’t press the matter. As carefully as you could, you place your hand behind you against the wardrobe opening, pushing slightly to peak outside, grateful that it did not creak. You don’t see anything in your immediate field of vision and no suspicious shuffling can be heard. Deciding to press your luck, you open the door further and was met with relief to find that the plaga are completely gone from the room. You leave the tight space first and newfound anxiety washes over you when you turn to meet Luis who also steps out of the wardrobe and is now meeting your eyes.

A lit torch that hung on the stone wall beside you illuminated his handsome face, giving his skin a nice warm glow. But his expression was neither warm or cold. In fact, it was unreadable, just like his eyes right now which are focused solely on you. The memory of his lips on your skin comes back burning to the forefront of your mind and you couldn’t help but reach up to touch the spot with your fingertips. His grey eyes follow your movements, lingering on the spot, and they seemed to glint anew under the flame’s light. The cracks in his stony expression giving way to emotions that you recognized immediately. They were familiar to you, because you wore them as well.

Anticipation and desire.

They still ran through you now and pumped your burning hearts with deep want. But again, you both do nothing. Simply locked in a perpetual state of longing.

Luis clears his throat, effectively breaking the spell. “I should, uh-”

“-check if the coast is clear.” you finish for him.

He nods, “Sí, sí.” And with that, he steps away from you, almost regretfully so, striding over to the shattered doorframe and ducking his head out in search of any further potential dangers. As soon as his back was turned, you sigh out all of the tension that you were holding inside your lungs.

A million thoughts ran in your head and they are all about Luis. Yes, the Spaniard had a way of getting on your nerves. The man was practically an expert in raising your blood pressure. But at the same time, there was no denying that you are helplessly charmed by him. And from how Luis was acting just now, it seems you affect him the same way as if you both are drawn to each other like magnets. This growing attraction makes things very complicated. And now is not the time for complications. You have to reunite with Leon Kennedy and Ashley Graham.

Mentally, you slap yourself back to focus on the task at hand. While Luis was still keeping a lookout, you took the time to observe your surroundings and notice scratches along the floor. Your eyes follow the marks all the way to the stone wall across from you. Driven by curiosity, you approach the wall and feel alongside the cracks, catching a distinctive line that runs around, making a large shape. In the middle of the shape is the torch that serves as the only source of light in the room, burning brightly in its sconce. The holder hangs awkwardly on the stone, angled in a way as if it has been disturbed. Your eyes flash wide in understanding. So this is where your infected hunters disappeared to. Ingenius. You wondered if they were still on the other side searching for you and Luis but decided not to even entertain the idea by touching the torch. Luis’ voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Okay, no plaga around. We’re good to go,” he says assuringly, returning to your side. “It’s dark out there, though. So we’re going to need a light.”

His grey eyes follow your gaze and perk up at the sight of the torch. “Esto. This will do nicely,” his hand reaches for it.

Alarms go off in your head. “No, wait-!”

But it was too late. The moment he grabbed the sconce with one hand in order to pull the torch out of it with the other, the support shifts under his weight and somewhere within the wall, foreboding clicks of a mechanism triggering fills the air.

Oh no.

The wall gives way. You and the dark-haired man quickly jump away from it and behind the space it once occupied, more torches came into view, illuminating the darkness- all held by a pack of familiar infected cultists. All who now had eyes dead set on you both. For the umpteenth time in this room, palpable tensions run high. And once again, your companion tries to breaks it.

“Uh, hehe. Hola, mis amigos,” Luis greets nervously, donning a charming yet shaky grin before pretending to look around in bewildered embarrassment. “¡Esto no es el baño!”

You didn’t even have time to reproach him, flight instinct immediately kicking in. “Run!” you yell and the two of you sprint out of the room through the broken exit, murderous growls and vehement shouts trailing close behind.

Running frantically through a series of corridors, dodging hatchets and crossbow bolts, the both of you shove through a set of double doors and found yourselves in what looks to be the remains of a grand ballroom. Luis throws the torch down one of the large holes on the floor and ducks inside an inconspicuous pile of rubble with an evidently spacious interior, dragging you down along with him. Sweat poured down your faces as you sat in the small space in fearful anticipation. Your relentless hunters enter the ballroom, running past the both of you and lingering around in pursuit. There were small openings in the rubble that allowed you to observe their movements with bated breaths. Thankfully after a few minutes, they were all far away.

You whisper to Luis, “We’re going to need some help.”

Wholeheartedly agreeing with your statement, the man grabs the communication device from his person and presses a series of buttons. He muffles the rings from the comm in his hands and after a few seconds, the other line picks up.

“Luis, where are you two?” It was Leon’s voice that came through the static, his face lit up on the small screen. He did not seem happy. Makes sense as you were supposed to meet him and Ashley with their suppressants ages ago.

“Sorry,” Luis frowns. “We, uh, we screwed up-”

“We?!” you hiss under your breath.

“Come to our rescue, Prince Charming.”

“Give me that!” you snap at him through gritted teeth, ripping the comm from the Spaniard’s hand. “Leon, we’re trapped in the ballroom past the courtyard. Place is crawling with monsters.”

Upon seeing the genuine distress on your face, Leon’s expression changed to that of determination, “Standby. We’re heading your way now.”

“Don’t be late to the dance.” Luis chimes in, leaning over your shoulder to look at the blonde in the comm.

You narrowly catch the annoyed glare in Leon’s eyes before the man pressed to your side ends the call with a push of a button. Too exhausted to express your frustration for his behavior, you opted to make yourself comfortable in the new hiding spot. It was hardly better than the wardrobe as you were forced to be seated, but at least you weren’t packed against each other like sardines, touching only by the shoulders this time around. And you were able to move your arms and legs freely too.

Still, you found yourself missing Luis’ enveloping warmth, missing his protective arm around your body, missing his soft lips upon your skin. You felt the temperature in your cheeks rise again.

“This one is on me,” you hear him say lowly, his tone apologetic.

You shake your head, willing your desire in check in favor of attempting to alleviate his guilt, “At least this spot is a little more spacious.”

The man hums thoughtfully. “Sí. Pero… I’ll be honest, my friend,” he muses aloud, “I preferred the wardrobe.”

You turn your head towards him when he said this. He didn’t meet your curious gaze, seemingly intent on keeping watch for the plaga through the openings of your shared hiding place. It gave you a moment to look him over, attentive eyes wandering from the thick locks of his dark hair, to the butterfly lashes of his eyes, to the attractive shape of his nose and cheekbones until they stopped at his thick neck and broad jawline. The sight brings you back to when you touched him, your hands itching to reach up to him again but your seated position didn’t allow you to do so. Instead, you brush the back of your hand against his. He reflexively twitches upon your subtle caress. Luis still isn’t looking at you, but you can hear his breath hitch. These are the signs you were looking for.

“Well, as long as we’re both being honest,” you sigh, putting your head on his shoulder, secretly relishing in your closeness to him. “Me too.”

For a moment, you thought he would say and do nothing again. But then his hand lifts to intertwine his fingers with yours, clasping your palms together. A new kind of warmth washes over you as the pad of his thumb softly strokes across your skin. Another hand grasps your chin gently, guiding you to look up at him.

You expected anticipation and desire to return to his eyes, but something much deeper, much fiercer, and much more intimate burns within those magnetic grey irises. His head dips down towards you, your noses bumping into one another again, and his mouth lingers over yours. This time, you won’t turn away.

“¿Es cierto?” His low voice is barely above a whisper, dripping huskily with tender yearning.

Luis Serra is trouble. He makes things complicated. But right now as you two close the distance between your wanting lips- complications be damned.

[nivannedyt4t]

was inspired by @grilde1chesse to make a resident evil headcanons post :p so here is that with some of my favorite characters :3 this is incredibly unorganized and bad, sorry in advance

this'll have leon, piers, ashley, mia, and wesker in it:3c

leon ; transmasc, he/him ; homoromantic & pansexual

- born in new york, grew up in boston (drives like a bostonian too (thank you to my irl friends for creating the bostonian leon headcanon))

- doesn’t cry often but when he does he’s an ugly cryer. leon was more sensitive as a kid but was forced to toughen up quick

- likes the the, the doors, crosby, stills, nash & young, nirvana… mostly 70s rock. likes mcr because of ashley

- has auburn hair naturally but is mildly embarrassed by this and dyes it

- hasn’t gotten top surgery as the recovery time would take too long for him

- absolutely a cat person. if he could he’d have five

- autistic & chronically depressed. very bad at socializing and yet a lot of his self esteem hinges on performing well in social situations

- often forgets to do basic things like eating or drinking water

- has always hated loud & bass-y noises but this was worsened after the events of re2

- bites his nails and cuticles as a self-regulatory/stress relieving behavior. starts painting his nails black after vendetta to try and combat this habit

- was on the field hockey team in his junior and senior years of high school

- has become somewhat of an older brother figure for ashley. she gifted him kandi soon after they got home from spain and he’s kept it safe ever since

- the plaga left behind some physical changes. this includes sharpened canines, a tapetum lucidum (eyeshine like a cat), and heightened hearing. leon dislikes these traits but hasn’t done anything to get rid of them for ashley’s sake

- his main love language is acts of service. he’s bad at talking people through things and prefers to just do instead of explaining himself

- leon’s commitment issues go craaazy. the only prolonged relationship he’s managed is with chris (or piers. or sometimes a polycule with both of them. yeah i’m a multishipper)

- gets sick a lot but it’s often mild enough that he powers through it or ignores it until it gets bad enough to put him on bed rest

- used to have a big appetite around the time he started t and was self-conscious about it as when he was younger he was a bit chubby. as he got older this has flipped to a certain degree, he doesn’t eat very much unless someone else made the food for him

- enjoys writing poetry but would rather die than share it with anyone

- has sensitive skin and an incredibly thorough skincare routine

- starts needing glasses around the time of re6 but refuses to get them for years

- retired matilda some time in the early 2000s out of guilt for "what he put her through"

piers ; transmasc, he/him ; mlm

- born and raised in northern minnesota

- was a complete tomboy before realizing he’s trans, actually

- loves fishing and archery (and dragging his friends out into the woods with him to do these activities)

- grew up on a farm, joined ffa and raised goats as a teenager

- gets emotionally attached to things very easily. this tended to be a problem during fair season as he’d always raise goats for meat pen

- sees the guns he uses as his peers, each of them have names and their own little personalities he attributes to them

- very short. like, 5’4. takes the piss out of it but is privately a little insecure about it

- a bit camera shy, as he ends up looking awkward in most of the photos he’s in

- dyslexic and has adhd

- really enjoys math. got in trouble during school multiple times for trying to help his friends when they struggled on tests

- big fan of dogs. grew up with shelties

- left-handed

- broke his arm four times throughout the course of his time in elementary school

ashley ; cis, she/her ; bi

- born in upstate new york, moved multiple times throughout her childhood

- was a scene kid (pretty much canon but i love this about her). huge fan of invader zim and made leon watch all of it with her

- born in 1989 (this is for the sake of a crackship and also so some of my other headcanons make a little more sense. this makes her like 15 or 16 in re4)

- obsessed with warrior cats, asked for the new books that’d come out each year for christmas five years in a row

- has “childish” interests unashamedly and makes sure everyone knows

- collected beanie babies when she was younger, held on to most of them into adulthood

- decorates everything with rhinestones. so many rhinestones

- she loves getting dressed up just for the fun of it. transitioned into a more himekaji-esque style during college

- ashley actually really likes what the plaga did to her physical appearance, namely the sharp canines. her parents were. mildly mortified

- loves sailor moon. her favorite character is luna

mia ; transfem, she/her ; bi and aroacespec

- born and raised in texas

- born in 1987 (see the explanation in ashley’s section)

- goth during high school and college

- loves strawberry switchblade

- she’s scared of birds after a goose attacked her when she was six

- mia enjoys the macabre and collects leather-bound horror anthologies

- has bpd and ocd. she’s incredibly concerned with her own morality and constantly fears that she’s a bad person

- does watercolor painting in her free time. she doesn’t think anything she creates is very good, but holds onto them because ethan loved her art

- so so protective of her friends and family to an overbearing degree. this ends up pushing people away, which is the opposite of what she wants

wesker ; transmasc, he/him ; aroace

- thinks listening to music is a waste of time and focus. enjoys a few instrumental jazz standards in private

- autistic. doesn’t get why people don’t view things exactly the same way he does and is incredibly frustrated by it

- keeps his hair slicked back because he hates when he can feel it touching his forehead

- sensitive to bright lights

- gets headaches very easily and has chronic migraines

- genuinely passionate about virology

- likes bugs and had a collection of mounted moths and beetles during the s.t.a.r.s. era

[slashthrashandcrash]

Slasher Ashley and Final Boy Stranger got me thinking about Final Boy Ripper and Slasher Francine…like Francine’s a podcaster that is able to come up with such good theories for cold cases because she used to be in the business herself (and did some of them too) who makes first contact with Ripper because he’s a fanboy that always sends in mail and invitations to his art shows or smth

OUGH THE WAY THEIR REVERSE AU JUST IMMEDIATELY FLOODED MY BRAIN IN PERFECT VISION--

Because like Ashley/Stranger, I imagine them to still have their same overall personality, but it'd be so fucking funny if the only real difference in this AU is because Ripper/Mason actually went to therapy and got put on Lexapro and is 10% more normal so he never became a serial killer.

Francine though, this poor girlie cannot catch a break. She's a struggling writer in an oversaturated industry with cases that have been done dozens of times by now. She's broke and desperate because if she doesn't start getting steady work she's not going to be able to keep a roof over her head. True crime isn't her passion, she dropped out of med school the first semester because gore makes her sick, but she needs a new story to tell that hasn't been touched by 2187317 other indie podcasters.

So, she's pretty familiar through her research about how killers got caught, how they avoided getting caught, who was a suspect since day one and who went undetected for 40 years. Sometimes...you just gotta write that story yourself. And, okay, like, the victim doesn't have to be someone whose smile always lit up a room or whatever. Who would be mad if...maybe she let that creepy jerk at the bus stop "take her out" one night, get him blackout drunk, and leave him face down in a flooded gully?

But accidents don't sell stories. Blood and guts do. It makes her physically and emotionally sick but god if she misses another payment this month then they're gonna shut off her power. While Ripper was brutal for the sake of art, Francine is because the more violent details she can include, the juicier the coverage she can provide for it. And, as she already knows from research, female serial killers aren't as common as male, and her method of random brutality is even rarer. Besides, while she's already kind of on the sheriff's shitlist for only talking about the town's worst crimes, they'd never suspect in a million years half of them were being carried out by this tiny little Korean girl who types up scary stories all day.

What's important is that it works. She's still a ghostwriter for someone else's podcast, she doesn't want her name too attached to anything, but the ratings just keep climbing over these deepdives into all things violent. More viewers means a bigger paycheck. She takes no pride or delight in being the so called Northshire Ripper, but she needs to do what she can to survive right now. It's not forever, just until she has a solid footing under her for a better job opportunity.

And who else would listen to her podcast while he works than the man himself Mason Zimmerman. It started off just as background noises as usual, but it wasn't long until he was sucked into one of the stories and just how twisted it was. The hosts weren't his favorite, but the in depth writing for it was incredible. Soon he was going through their whole catalogue and discovered he almost entirely favored the ones written by Francine. As morbid as it sounded, she was inspiring him for his next collection - the darkness of emotions, blacks and reds and feralness and splatters, the pieces were coming to him so easily and vividly he could hardly get enough canvases.

So of course it made sense to reach out and personally thank her for all her hard work, and the galleries will be equally as pleased to have so many new exhibits. And Francine, who has no knowledge whatsoever about fine art or who Mason Zimmerman is, just responds back with an enthusiastic thank you. Which Mason likes, because it's nice being able to talk to other people who have no idea who he is, and they start a bit of a correspondence. Then, hey, it would only be right to invite her to one of his shows, since she's 70% of the reason the pieces even exist.

What it essentially boils down to in the end is Francine so desperately trying to keep her dirty secret to herself while having to keep up her new friendship with Mason. She can't stop now while her stories are his biggest muse. She's one of the very few people allowed anywhere near his inner circle, she can't break his trust. She can't risk getting sloppy. But the weight of what she's doing is starting to break her down and having a real friend is going to make things complicated the longer this goes on. If push came to shove...could she get rid of Mason? No, he's too private and prolific. Could she frame him as a back up plan? Tamper with his medication, make it look like an artistic frenzy, goad him into an episode so she can call the police as planting all the evidence?

Time will tell (:

[actiongrrl]

|| GAME CANON

What choices in the game apply to my depiction of Sam? Here's your handy dandy guide!

** Any choices involving Mike apply to @jesvshotsaucechristmascake , were things we plotted out/choices that were played out together and are a part of Sam's main verse canon

We start this in medias res;

Sam agreed with Josh, Chris and Ashley's crushes on each other are sweet! She couldn't help but side-eye his comment about trauma throwing them into each other's arms.

Found the bat and was serious about it. She found out some sweet memories about Josh and his family when they would vacation at the lodge.

Hit that high 5 because of course.

Pranked Josh, and succeeded in convincing him when...

Sam hears a noise. She's freaked out, Josh is freaked out, and she investigates it with Josh, holding onto him until they're chased by a masked Chris. She's greatly annoyed by this moment. ( @joshinyou and I decided this was canon because it's just cute.

Sam has taken her luxurious bath (which is probably like 2 hours tops you have to remember a lot of this game is taking place simultaneously, guys, c'mon.) When she realizes something's amiss. Following the balloons to the theatre room, she's pursued by the psycho

She throws the vase at him (sorry, bud) before jumping over the bed and running into the basement. Here she slips on the broken step and injures herself.

Sam opts to hide from the psycho in the basement, staying put before running- Grabbing the aforementioned baseball bat and hitting the psycho in the head with it. (sorry again about the concussion)

Seeing her chance for escape, she runs down the hallway but soon realizes the door doesn't have a doorknob. After pulling over a rack of wine, she gets the doorknob, opening the door and shutting it barely in time for the psycho to reach through the window for her.

Sam stays in the following room a little too long, feeling as if she's in a semblance of safety. That's when the psycho catches up with her, knocking her out with..... Nitrous oxide?

This is where stuff gets a little canon divergent because Stark and I thought it made for a better story in our opinion;;

Mike finds Sam tied to the chair and frees her before Sam finds a way to let him into the basement.

After Sam changes her clothes, the two of them investigate, finding evidence of Josh's mental health struggles.

When everyone convenes after Chris and the Stranger try to fetch Josh, Sam focuses on Ashley who's freaking out, influencing Mike to turn on Emily. Thankfully, Emily is not hurt.

In her mission to warn Mike about the monsters, Sam breaks off from the group and takes a shortcut through the mines and into the tunnels that connect the sanitarium. She comes across Mike having a little monster issue and bursts in, taking one of the monster's heads off with a solid swing of a shovel.

Mike shoots the oil barrel, blasting both of them out of sanitarium with an explosion and setting the building on fire.

At this point, the duo pair up and try to find their way back through the mines. Sam and Mike align their stories and what they found, as well as stumbling on Josh and other clues in the mine.

Sam leaves Josh to Mike to get him home, making her way to the lodge. She does end up slipping, injuring herself when running from a monster pursuing her.

Once in the lodge, they search for the others, heading to the basement to meet them. That's when Mike and Sam run into Emily, Chris, and Ashley running out of the basement with monsters in hot pursuit. Mike initially leaves after the others exit, not realizing that Sam is rooted to the spot, terrified. Mike realizes that Sam isn't following, and turns back to come help, dragging her out and up to the first story.

Thus we find Sam in the main landing area, staring at various monsters crawling about. She falters slightly, attracting the monster's attention and it comes to attack her when Mike dives to save Sam and gets tossed aside like a doll.

When Mike finally gets himself in order, he and Sam silently make the plan to blow the lodge up.

Sam moves and draws the monsters attention while Mike moves to break the bulb. But they catch sight of him and begin to move to his location when Sam shouts to draw them back to her.

She keeps the monster's attention, gradually moving about and hiding which allows her friends to escape from the lodge one by one.

Mike waits as long as possible, ducking out when Sam makes her way to the switch, leaving and giving Sam the knowledge that everyone else was out.

Sam runs to the switch, hitting it, and blowing up the lodge and herself right out of the building.

[sp000keyyy]

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Cupid

Word count : 942 words (4 865 characters)

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Masterlist

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VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL!

----

“Ash.. what on earth are you wearing?” You stood awkwardly outside one of the bathroom stalls, staring at Ashley. She thought it would be hilarious to go to school dressed as Cupid for Valentine’s Day.

“I told you I was going to dress as Cupid!” She says with a big smile. You were speechless.

“I thought you were joking!” You whisper-yelled to her. It definitely wasn’t the usual colours she wore, especially not to school.

It was a poofy, white and pink dress with light pink ribbons all over. She even had the bow and arrow with the heart tip. Even down to feather wings on her back. Definitely wasn’t the craziest thing she’s worn, but still, she mostly wore black and purple not white and pink. To be fair she did show up to school in one of those blow up dinosaur costumes.

“Don’t you think it’s cute? I was going to go around school pretending to be Cupid!” She was definitely excited. You sighed. Once Ash had an idea there was really no talking her out of it and you knew that.

The two of you walked out of the bathroom, making your way to the gym. Since Valentines Day was in a couple days, the school was throwing a dance for the students. And of course, got the very same students to help organize it.

The rest of your group was sitting in a corner blowing up balloons and working on a banner. Larry, Ash and you had been assigned to work on the banner whilst Todd and Sal blew up some balloons. Well, more Todd blowing up the balloons and Sal tying them.

As Ash and you resumed your sides of the banner, she leaned over to you with a smirk.

"You knowww, since im 'cupid' now i could totally shoot both you and Sal" She said, winking a couple times. Your face flushes a little.

A while ago you had confided in Ash about your, very not secret, crush on Sal and she's been trying to get the two of you together ever since, insisting that he liked you back.

"No!" You whisper-yelled in her direction, hoping to not get Sal's attention. You looked over at him quickly to see him struggling to tie the end of the balloon around his finger.

"I really regret telling you i like him."

"And i keep telling you to tell him cause he likes you back!" You quickly try to cover her mouth. Unfortunetly, you werent quick enough and the entire group looked at the two of you. Ash took your hands of her mouth.

"I'm telling you, ask him to go to the dance with you." She smiled at you. You looked awkwardly at her, then to the boys.

"You like soemone?" Todd asked.

"Possibly.." You respond with a quiet tone.

"WHO?" Larry pushed Ash out of his way. Sal didnt seem to want to be part of the conversation. Was he upset? You cleared your throat.

"No one." You said with a smile. It hurt a little to call Sal 'no one' but you had to say it to get Larry off your back.

"Are you still coming to my place for our movie night or are you going to be too busy with your new.. boyfriend" Sal said, a hint of anger, maybe even jealousy, in his tone when he said 'boyfriend'.

"Yeah i am, and I don't have a boyfriend." You say quietly. The two of you remained in silence as Ash eyed the two of you closely.

-

The silence between you and Sal was nearly unbearable. Normally when the two of you would watch movies together, it would be a shitty movie Sal had found and the two of you would laugh and criticize the plot and awful characters.

But now it was silent, with the ambience noise coming from the TV.

"So." Sal starts.

"Once you and this new guy get together, will he join the group?" His tone indicated that he wasnt too fond of the idea. You couldnt help but be flattered that he didnt want other guys that were interested in you join the group.

"Well no." Maybe it was the fact that Ash had finally been starting to convince you or maybe it was cause it was going to be Valentine's Day soon, but you had suddenly thought that hinting to Sal that you like him would be a good idea.

"No?" He sounded almost hopeful as he turned to look at you.

"He's already in the group.." You said silently, your cheeks flushing. You couldnt look at him, it was too embarassing.

"W.. already.. is it Larry?" You look at him suddenly as he asked.

"No? What made you think that?"

"You went really quiet when he was asking about it earlier." You sigh.

"No it's not Larry.." Sal looks at you in silence.

"So.. it's me..?" You look over at him and nod.

"Really?" He asks quietly. You nod again. You could feel your face get hotter and hotter as time went on, the silence from before returning.

"I mean, I was going to ask you to the dance." Sal said, slowly reaching to grab your hand. You smile.

"I'd be happy to go with you, if your offer still stands."

-

You would never forget the giant smile Ash had on her face when the two of you had walked into the gymnasium the night of the dancehand in hand.

Who knows. Maybe if you had listened to Ash a little sooner, you wouldnt have had to be as patient with your feelings as you were.

----

[pavlovianpanic]

"Shit, Shit, Shit —" Not another moment was spared as the brunette hauls herself at the door, trying to squash any attempt of something following them inside before she flicks the lock with a heavy sigh. Jovie sinks against the rough wood until she feels the planks beneath her & exhales once more. Emerald irises flicker towards Josh, the same concern & edge remaining as it colors her voice: "Did that . . . Did it get you?" Not an ounce of hesitation seen as she crawls over to him, inspecting every inch of visible skin with a hawk-like gaze; Fingers wrapping around the excess fabric of her shirt as she begins to rip it apart. "It got on me . . . On my side, I think." She can feel the warmth against ice cold skin & yet, seems far more concerned with her company. "Does anything hurt?"

(For josh :') im not that familiar with until dawn but i think there are creatures as well?? so i thought this might work <3 or maybe josh could visit golden peaks? im 100% down for either <3)

— @goldcnpeaks (moved from @grievedifferent!)

it had been damn good timing — a mountain, a shed, a monster, a chance of hope.

she came for me. josh had been left behind by chris first at mike's discretion, then by mike directly, so he's assumed it's for dead were anyone to bother asking. they left me ... but she came for me. he can ask questions later. he can ask her what it means — was it on purpose? or just pure, dumb luck? does it matter? well, it does. it does to me.

in their escape, hasty as it was, they had been blindsided. she had gotten bit, it seems, hurt, but he had remained unscathed by anything other than the environment. scrapes, bruises, and a welting mark that's swelling where mike pistol-whipped him good.

in the midst of the confusion, the fighting and struggling, they frantically booked it back towards the lodge. the creature had been hot on their heels, seemingly subverting expectations of the narrative, narrowly bypassing chris, the boy who had come back for his friend with the stranger.

by the time they got there, josh was gone, no trace of him, no blood, nothing, and the air was silent for them, and they trudged back begrudgingly. this is where the story should come together, the gang reunites with josh and jovie in tow, even the stranger subverting fate.

but their path gets twisted, having to take unnecessary turns, getting lost, and finding the old trap house that josh had laid out for chris and ashley just hours earlier. it's their safest option, right? leading them to where they are now. here, alone, and seeming to have taken the creature off the path to follow another noise, a stray deer that added to the monster's confusion and the good luck of josh and jovie.

❝ it got you? ❞ he croaks, and she is so close to him now. he can feel her. his eyes are having trouble focusing, while his lungs are unable to gasp for successful breaths the way he usually is, all of the wind taken out of him from running for his literal life. his muscles feel absolutely sapped, as heavy as sedation, and he wearily peers at the closest window, though does not approach. an instinct tells him that could be a terrible idea (the worst!). ❝ ... d-does it hurt? ❞

he's almost completely out of it, yet a small string of clarity keeps him grounded: her face. it's the presence of a person that allows josh to engage / to be engaged with. her reaction tells him that what they saw is very, very real. it's not a hallucination, a trick of the eye, a foolish glance twice ... something fucking chased us here!

and it's real, and that is the most frightening thing of all. he cannot simply declare it false; there is no telling it to go away, to leave him alone.

time is running out for josh.

❝ if it b-bit you ... if it bit you, that means ... ❞ his mind swells with information of mixed media he's encountered — zombies, werewolves & lycans, vampires, and more! all bitten! and never shy!! — so that must mean ...

❝ you could be infected with ... with whatever that thing is. it didn't get me ... but it got you. oh fuck, oh no, ❞ he wails, all but whining, and grabs at his head to retain focus. focus. focus. what fixes a bite? better: what reverts a bite? ... if it even means anything. i've never seen anything like that in a movie or comic before, never read about it in a book. i-i dunno ... i dunno what that thing is, so i don't know ... how to save her ... i can't save you. i can't kill that thing. none of us can ... if the others are even still alive. he has to imagine they are, right? but what could survive that?

that deer will only distract them for so long, joshua, a familiar voice seems to call to him.

come on, brother. you know better than that. deer are prey animals. you told me that. remember? you're the only wolf up here, the other resounds, identical, yet knowingly different.

he can tell the difference. he could always tell them apart.

you're wrong, he says. there's something worse than me up here, and you're not real. you're dead. but that thing is real, and so is she, and so am i ... and ... and ...

❝ we have to do something, right? that thing will come back for us, won't it? ❞ one hand detaches from the side of his head, patting at the many pockets of his tearing overalls. that's right. i have the — ❝ — the keys to the cable car ... if we can get there, maybe we can ... ❞

get help for the others, but more importantly: help themselves first. if she turns on him, then he's done for ... and so is everyone else, either by her change or the thing that will inevitably make her that way.

if only they could see the narrative for what it is, they would know these bites mean nothing. the diary of the stranger would confirm it, but they are detached from the main plot now, acting on their own, making their own decisions.

two people placed on the same mountain in a seemingly random, yet intricately concocted through many branches and threads, dreams woven of prophecy, and warnings over years of a promised curse that's come true (it has been all along! existing beside a lovely young family, festering under their floorboards, seeping into their skin, rotting their flesh).

❝ s-should i go ... by myself? no, we should go together, right? w-what about ... the others? ❞

he looks to her for some sort of clarity and confirmation, yet he is required for her salvation (so it seems!). lack of evidence and assurance leaves them stranded for answers, trying to make decisions with half the knowledge required to survive.

❝ no. no. we go together. ❞ he seems to relax, becoming more silently resolved as he allows himself to fold to her. women make me uncomfortable, his mind argues. that was my choice, wasn't it? but he is beyond comprehensible choices of symbolic meaning and subconscious sway. no, this is about survival. their survival. i want to live! ❝ i ... i trust you. i trust you. ❞

[sarcasticsciencefictionwriter]

First Fanfic Ask Game:

✅🧮🎶

Thank you!

✅ list one or two favorite lines you’ve written and explain why they’re your favorite

Oof, the very hard question.

Here's from my first fluff piece, "First Night" (It's more than a line or two, but I put stuff between the two bits I liked XD)

"Oh." Magnus laughed a little, adjusting Alice, her eyes far away. "You were so attentive to her, after she was born. And me, by extension. But it was all for Ashley, truly. The night she was born, you slept in my bed." "I did?" "Nestled right into my arms and better than any alarm clock. As soon as Ashley made even the slightest noise, you would be shaking me, telling me the baby needed me."

I just love it so much because it's Helen and Henry being mother and son and I have a call back to it at the end of the story, which I just very much loved and it's fluffy and sweet. I just love their dynamic so much and I love them having memories together.

🧮 what are you working on? describe it in 20 words or less

Ranna struggling to connect with her ancestral ways and keep them alive against the Senate's wishes.

(Sanctuary one-shot)

[copiousloverofcopia]

I have RISEN from the dead....

Lol just kidding...but----I am here with some new content!!!!

Here is the first chapter of my fairytale level fan fiction for @ashley-ghuleh featuring their OC Marcus and Secondo!!!

Thank you so much Ghestie for the opportunity to bring Marcus to life! I hope you and everyone else enjoys!!!!

The Hell Torn Heart

After a recurring dream leaves Marcus, a half-demon/half-hellhound, dealing with the ghosts of his troubled past and visions of a place he has never been. He is unexpectedly thrust into an unknown world. Guided by a mysterious couple to the Ministry, surrounded by ghouls and siblings of sin. The once outcast struggles with what haunts him and learning to find himself—until he meets Secondo.

Chapter 1: The Dreams

Also available HERE on AO3!

Read below the cut! (Eventually will be NSFW)

They would leave as swiftly as they came. Leaving beads of sweat along Marcus's brow and a cold chill running down his spine. His mind, unraveling night after night with the things that haunted him. The dreams had reared their ugly head once again.  

Last night was different, however, though it had started just the same. Dreams of his father, to Marcus nothing but a glorified sperm donor, who just so happened to impart half his infernal roots. Visions of his cold, intimidating stares and the sting of his hand, thankfully fading as Marcus stirred on his mattress. Its comfort, only one step up from the bare floor. 

Then came the dream of her. Always the same and as haunting as it was emotional. A woman, one he knew only for a short time, but who held his heart for a lifetime—calling out to him from the abyss. Her bright eyes and dark hair, like the mysterious void that was the night sky. Filled with celestial bodies, burning with the fury of creation. She was holding his hand, though it looked quite a bit smaller held in her palm than it truly was now. Marcus, only a young child when he lost her—his mother. 

She showed him a place. One he had never seen before. Built like an old castle and hidden deep within a thick forest of trees. Filled with secrets he could feel, carried on the wind as it swept through his cobalt hair. It was a  vision of grandeur. The massive, arched double doors and stone walls—impressive as they carefully approached. The fascia, all covered in years of history, draped in ivy and sweet smelling bougainvillea.

It was an old Abbey, or at least it appeared so. The steeple, adorned with an inverted cross, with what appeared to be a "G", standing proudly atop the roof. He recognized it instantly as a place of worship, but of what Marcus was unclear. His eyes, crawling over it before staring at the countless stained glass windows that shimmered in the light—beckoning him to continue.

He was in awe of it, feeling it somehow both ominous and inviting. Marcus could feel his mother squeeze his hand when he stopped to take it all in. Urging him to continue when his instinct forced him to stop. Worried about what dangers may lurk beyond the doors that stood before them. Trusting his mother enough to continue on despite his better judgment.

As they reached the stairway, Marcus froze once again. His heart, pounding hard behind his ribs. The mystery felt too great, too heavy as it weighed on his mind. What would happen if he dared to go inside?

"Go on…Marcus…find this place. Be happy." His mother whispered. He began slowly ascending the steps, taking a moment to breathe in the cool air that surrounded him before turning around to find he was alone. Now appearing as the age he was now. His mother, no longer standing behind him when Marcus finally summoned the will to bring his hand to the door. Turning the knob and then, like every time before—waking up.

Just like that, the blast of his alarm hit. Blaring incessantly as Marcus rolled over. Trying desperately to drown out the noise with a pillow pressed firmly over his head. His sensitive ears, ringing no matter how well he tried to muffle the sound.   

"Argh…fucking hell." He whined, rising up and scratching his head. Choosing to sit up and turn off the abomination as he succumbed to his waking. It was already after 4 in the afternoon and his aching head was happy to remind him of the bad decisions made the night before. "Guess it's time to get up." He yawned before managing to drag himself out of bed. 

It had been weeks now since the dreams started again. Each time, slightly different than the last. The dreams of his abusive father, which were thankfully overshadowed by the ones with his mother, filling him with anger and resentment. Replaced each night, when her ghost would visit him, leaving him feeling both broken, and whole all at once. Curious as to why she seemed to be begging him to go inside that place. An old Abbey that he had never even seen before. 

For now he would have to shrug it off. Shaking off the intrusive thoughts that nagged at him as a dog shakes off the water from its coat. He splashed some cold water on his face to help collect himself, grateful that his glamour had managed to hold up so well with his failing mental state. He slapped on a bit of eye liner and ran a comb through his hair before grabbing his cropped leather jacket. Swinging his case, filled with his prized white, heritage guitar, over his shoulder before heading out the door.

He was on his way to a small bar in Berlin, one that had been there long before the wall came down. The Hundekeller, was a small and insignificant place to most, but Marcus knew better. It was here that the most colorful characters humanity had to offer, convened. In this small, somewhat sketchy place Marcus had acquired all manner of interesting encounters. 

Marcus would often recall the time when he met the guy who carried around his pet spider inside his waistcoat pocket. Old Snippet he called him, a big tarantula that had the rest of the patrons keeping their distance. Or the time the long-legged woman, dressed in furs and sequins for days, flirting with him from the other end of the bar turned out to be a former U.S. spy during the war. Regardless of its bizarre and, at times, unsavory surroundings it felt more like home than his flat.

Marcus strolled over at a leisurely pace, passing the bokeh of street lights and cars as he lit up his first cig for the day. Relishing the taste of the sweet tobacco as he drew the smoke into his lungs. He was on his way to spend yet another night playing his guitar, once the paid act had taken their leave of course. Ready to sniff out all the interesting smells he’d encounter. He sat down as usual, inconspicuously in the back of the room and watched as people began filing in.  

The frequenters took their usual spots. The gentleman who always wore a red teddy, hidden under his blazer, sat down at his booth and Fräulein Elsa managed to slide right into her spot—a lone stool at the far end of the bar. All of them, settling in before the show and leaving only a few empty seats, for anyone else curious enough to enter, before the band began to play. This time the band played some sort of whiskey rock. The type that crosses rock with notes of country. Not Marcus’s usual taste, but the sound at least didn’t bother him while he waited. He watched almost in a daze as they performed, song after song. All by himself, as it was every night, until Ash came over to say hi. 

“You know one of these days you’re gonna be up there performing as the headliner, if only you’d give yourself some credit Welpe.” he told him. Leaning back to pop his back and rolling up his sleeves before picking up a crate from the back of the room. 

“Yeah…well I doubt it, old man. I’d hardly call what you all got going on in here “headliners” but whatever you say…not that you care but I also kinda like keeping to myself.” Marcus replied, giving Ash a shit-eating grin before the short, purple-haired man with the faint hint of subtle for a beard, headed back to his station. The bar keep was usually the only one Marcus ever talked to, and quite frankly might have been the only one he’d ever considered a friend. It wasn’t easy with his lineage, trying desperately to maintain his glamour, never allowing anyone too close. Worried that might see him for what he really was, a hound of hell. 

It was his mother’s wish that he grow up to be like them–the humans who had been nothing but kind to her. Unlike his father who had made both their lives miserable from the moment he was knitted within her womb. No—meaningless sex and a few well spread out acquaintances were far more manageable he thought. Refusing to ever be close enough to someone to get hurt again. 

As the night went on, Marcus remained in his thoughts. The traces of his dreams, still lingering in the forefront of his mind and the ache in his chest from the visions of his mother, kept him even more reclusive than usual. Wondering to himself if maybe tonight he should have just  stayed at home. Then, just as he rose from his stool and readied himself to leave he caught wind of it.

A scent unlike anything he’d smelled there before. A scent—like his own. It was metallic with hints of charred wood. Otherworldly, a scent he had worked hard to mask, flooding his nostrils as he scanned the room. His eyes fell over the audience as the band finished playing their last tune. 

“That's weird.” he whispered to himself. Shaking it off, convinced that he’d been imagining things. Before he knew it, it was finally time. The sparsely filled room, emptying to a mere handful of filled seats as he took the stage. Marcus said nothing as he took a short moment to tune his guitar. Strumming until he confirmed the notes hit just right. 

He began his song, nothing award winning, but one he had been tinkering with for some time now. Melodic and moody, he played—closing his eyes to feel the vibrations from it. He had refused to sing, his music serving almost as background noise for those who had found one reason or another to stay at Hundekeller. It wasn’t until he finished his second to last song, opening his eyes to the audience, that he saw them sitting together in the front row. 

There were two of them, a man and a woman. The man, quite bulky and handsome, though he  looked as if he were more than a force to be reckoned with. The woman, curvy with a mess of blonde curly hair atop her head. Radiating sweetness—almost bubbly as she listened to him play. Bouncing around in her chair when Marcus began the next song.

He struggled not to stare. The two mysterious strangers, maintaining eye contact with him, breaking only in moments when they would talk to one another. It left Marcus with an odd feeling burrowing in his gut. Something was different about them, but he couldn't be sure what.

He tried to press on, finding a way to distract himself from them when he happened to catch sight of a photo illuminated on the man’s phone. The image on the screen seared into Marcus’s brain as he watched the man show it to her. It was the building from his dreams. He struggled his way through it and the moment his set was up, he bounded off the stage and into one of the chairs at their table. Mad-looking and wide eyed as the man began to speak.     

“Well hello.” the man laughed, his hand gracing the shoulder of his female companion. 

“I—ah—I.” Marcus stammered, unable to explain himself with any sense of sanity. 

“I think he’s at a loss for words, Aeth.” the woman said, rising up from her chair to find a new seat right next to Marcus. “You alright there?” she asked him. 

“Of course he is, just might not have even seen someone as devastatingly beautiful as you Luss.” Aether mused, eliciting the eyeroll of a century from Cumulus. Marcus sat in silence, almost overwhelmed with the scent he noticed before, trying his best not to drop his glamour and give himself away as he got lost in it. Finally he swallowed back the knot in his throat, trying to gather himself before speaking again. How could it possibly be a coincidence that they smelled the way they did—and more so that they had an image of a place that, until now, had only existed in his dreams. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me.” Marcus managed to get out, rubbing at the old scar tissue gracing the back of his head. A callback to another night where his mischievousness got the better of him.

“It’s alright doll. I’m Cumulus by the way…but you can call me Luss if you want–and this is Aether.” she told him, taking his hand in hers. She was soft and kind. Marcus was bewitched by her almost instantly. Had he swung that way, she would have definitely been his type. Aether looked over to her, the two of them communicating something between them. Though their lips remained completely sealed. 

“The photo…on your phone…” Marcus started, unable to continue. Struggling to find the words to explain his interest in it. 

“Oh you mean this?” Aether said, showing Marcus the image again. It was of the Abbey from his dreams, though much less secluded looking. The image, filled with nuns and what looked like priests. A sprinkling among them of people who appeared to be wearing masks on the front steps. Their hands held up as if they were waving at them–a friendly hello to their far away friends. Instantly his interest was piqued, even more than before. 

“Where is that?” Marcus asked, watching as both Aether and Cumulus smiled at one another and turning back to him. Aether put his hand on Marcus’s shoulder, winking at him before he would explain. 

“That, my friend, is home.” he told him. 

“It looks so familiar…I think I have been there before.” Marcus continued, staring at the photo until Cumulus managed to recapture his attention. Resting her face on her hand and she continued on talking to him.

“Oh? Well, do you travel around much?” she asked.

“Not really, I have been here most of my life.” Marcus said, nervously chuckling with his words.

“Well now..that is interesting. You see…our home is in Italy. Not sure how you might have seen it if you have never left before, but hey you never know.” Cumulus said, looking over to Aether and giving him a wink. “Anyways… I just have to tell you…ah…” Cumulus began as she waited for him to give her his name.

“Marcus.”

“Ah yes…well Marcus, you have a lot of talent you know.” she continued, “...you play that guitar like a lover. I know a lot of people who could appreciate a talent like that.” 

“Really?” Marcus exclaimed, worried he might have misheard her. Feeling the heat of his anxiety building up inside him.  

“Really… I mean listen kid, I like your style and clearly Luss does too. Maybe you should come see the show our band is doing over at the Olympiastadion in Munich tomorrow night. I think our boss would love to hear you play and maybe we can talk more about the Abbey. What do you say? Entry on us—”

“Wait really?” Marcus asked him, thrilled at the prospect. The anxiety grew as he continued to desperately keep up his appearance. Then he realized something, “hey, isn’t that the Ghost show?” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of us?” Cumulus asked excitedly. 

“I have…but I will be honest I haven’t listened to anything. Just heard about Ghost in passing. I would still love to come. I have never been to such a big show before…that is iif…if you will still allow me?” Marcus whimpered, hoping his admission hadn’t ruined his chances. 

“No worries…” We will have your tickets waiting for you at the box office kid…see you tomorrow?” Aether asked as he motioned for Cumulus to stand up with him. Grabbing his jacket, and helping her with hers, before they would be headed off. Marcus jumped up from his seat and nodded. The excitement coursed through him as he watched them push in their chairs. Finally now he might have some answers—and even if he didn’t, he might as well at least have a good time. 

“See you there.”

Notes:

The Hundekeller- Hound Cellar 

Fräulein- Unmarried German woman

Puppy-Welpe

Olympiastadion- Concert venue in Munich, Germany

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Not sure if you've seen it but could you please do a Graves siblings x Denji from Chainsaw Man style reader?

I’ve never seen Chainsaw Man, not an anime guy- but reading up the Wiki gave me some idea

Andrew and Ashley Graves x Denji Style!Reader

It’s been said many times your impulsivity and general unawareness would be your downfall

Mostly by old farts who think of you as nothing but street trash

It’s not your fault you never finished high school. Not your fault you never socialized properly as a child.

They can fuck off for all you care

But in this moment…you hated how right they were

Your breathing was staggered, air becoming a commodity as you felt blood fill your lungs. Your body curled up into itself, clutching your stomach. Everything hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to be alive.

Footsteps became distant, leaving you in this cold- trash ridden alley, the pricks taking your wallet- and dignity- with them. Not like they’d find much, you had about 20 bucks to your name. They’ll be back for more eventually.

Most kids got their father’s eyes, some their noses- not you. No. Your father oh so graciously left you with his debt to the fucking mob! Asshole thought putting a new hole in his head would get him out of it, and it did- but all that fell on to you. You swore that as your swollen ear was pressed to the concrete, you could hear the prick laughing from hell.

You were gonna die here. You knew that. At least then the debt will finally be gone, you don’t have a kid to pass it along to and you’re an only child. Maybe they’ll track down your mother?….

You groan in pain, though it’s a pitiful attempt to call for help. No one will come find you. They’ll probably think you’re just some homeless person wallowing in their misery.

You tried to open your eyes, but unfortunately they were both too swollen to accomplish that. Tears pricked the corners and fell down your cheeks- causing you to hiss in pain. It hurt too much to cry, but you couldn’t help but sob as breathing became harder and harder. Your throat swelled in pain, you couldn’t swallow down the blood filling it.

Air slowly left your body as you drifted into unconsciousness….the last thing you remember feeling was a hand on your arm.

By all accounts, you should be dead

You wish you were dead

But god is a sick fuck who kicks around their most pathetic toys for entertainment

And you’re one of his pathetic toys

You slowly came too, the feeling of trash bags no longer cushioning you- but rather an actual cushion.

It smelled of cigarettes, but it was honestly preferred over wet garbage

Your body felt sore, but significantly less bloody

In fact….you were patched up

Poorly, some bandages were loose and some were way too tight- but it was better than exposed wounds that could get infected

You attempted to lift yourself to a sitting position, but the pain was unbearable. Along with that, any motions you continued to make were interrupted by two voices,

“Oh hey- woulda look at that. A zombie.”

“Oh my god!”

You couldn’t even register what was happening before you felt someone at your side. Helping you up was a guy, around your age you estimated, with messy black hair and striking green eyes. He struggled to hold you up and grab a pillow, so he narrowed his eyes over the back of the couch.

“Give me a hand would ya!” It wasn’t so much of a question as a demand.

“God! Alright alright, hang on.”

Shuffling noises became closer, but it was all behind you and it hurt to try and turn to inspect. From what you could hear though, the voice sounded more feminine and significantly more chill about this situation than the guy.

Speaking of which, the guy carefully lowered you on to some pillows, a couple throw ones from the dingy couch and one more fit for a bed. You got a better look at the owner of the feminine voice.

She was shorter than the guy, same messy black hair- only this time tied back into a ponytail. Her eyes were a soft shade of pink. She stared at you unamused while the guy hovered over you worriedly. It made you anxious. What sucked even more was you didn’t know who these people were, and why you were here! Last you remembered you were dying in an alley! The fuck?!

“Oh shit- uhm-“ the guy bit down on his finger to think, “Fuck what do we do?”

“Beats me,” the woman shrugged, “It was your idea to bring them here.”

“THE FUCK IT WAS”

You flinched at the sudden change of tone.

He pointed a finger at the woman, who stood unphased still, “You are not putting this on me- not again! You had the bright idea of using them for—“ he paused, suddenly remembering your presence. If you weren’t so out of it you would’ve said something, but instead he grabbed the woman by her wrist and led her into the bathroom with her protesting the entire way.

Finally, with your changed seating position and privacy, you could examine where the hell you were. Taking a look around at the peeling wallpaper, stained carpet, and two dingy beds (one surprisingly made despite there being two occupants)- you deduced it was a motel. A motel with very thin walls that allowed you to vaguely pick up on the two’s hushed conversation….

“….lets just ditch them.”

“No! We can’t do that…..might go to the police.”

“Maybe not….they looked like a bum.”

“Ashley!”

“Well? Am I wrong?”

The rest was a back and forth of deciding your fate while you sat by, twiddling your thumbs….or you would if you could move your arms. At least you learned the name of one of your saviors….or captors in this case.

Moments later, the guy and Ashley exited the bathroom- standing before you, one significantly more tense than the other.

“Uhm- sooooo, hi.” The guy started.

“Hey…” your voice was still strained from pain, “Look I heard you two in the bathroom….I won’t tell the cops anything.”

“Yeah, cause you’re not leaving.”

Crickets. You couldn’t believe your ears.

“I….” You blinked, “I’m what?”

“See- here’s the thing,” Ashley strode forward, ignoring the guy’s protest, “You’ve seen our faces, and thanks to these thin ass walls you know my name at least. His is Andrew by the way—“

“Ashley!”

“What? I’m not going down alone!” She retorted before turning to you again, “So, you can’t leave.” She sounded a little disappointed.

You blinked, still processing all of this. Did you just get kidnapped?? You took in the figured of your captors, their body languages vastly different. But…in some sick way….this benefited you.

The mob thinks you’re dead. You can’t just walk free now, not in case one of their members finds you alive and reports it back to their boss. And these guys are already on the run from what it seems…

You can work with this.

Andrew Graves

The more comfortable you became to this situation- the more it was apparent you and Ashley were tiring Andrew out

He had grown used to his sister’s impulsivity, but your own was new territory to him

Also a new source of gray hairs…

Honestly, you assumed he hated you

But….despite what he says- you believed Ashley when she told you that bringing you along was his idea

Things still felt tense, just the two of you

And you’re still not entirely convinced he enjoys having you around

But that just made the moments where your brazen antics made him laugh all the more enjoyable

To an extent, Andrew was patient with you

He took care of a lot of the social and book smarts stuff, areas you lacked in

It felt nice having someone take care of it, instead of chastising you to do better

Andrew stared at you in quiet disgust, his elbow rested on the diner’s table. In your run, the three of you decided to stop at this diner to eat. The place was littered with 50’s memorabilia- neon signs, a jukebox, obnoxiously plush booths to sit in. Great if you ignore literally everything about the 50’s!

You had settled next to Andrew, sitting closest to the wall while he took then end. Ashley had seated across from you two, but she had since gone to the bathroom, leaving just you two.

Seated on the table in front of you was an array of sauces, each opened for you to dip your fries into. The concoction of sauces were a mess on your shirt, face, and hands- something Andrew visibly recoiled at.

Andrew scoffed, “Y/N-“ you looked up, “C’mere.”

Reaching over you, Andrew grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the sauce on your face- to which you squirmed at irritably. Andrew narrowed his eyes.

“Hold still!” He became a little more aggressive with his cleaning, “God- has anyone ever taught you how to clean yourself!”

You decided to fight back in the only way you could think of, and that was by throwing a sauce covered fry at Andrew. You both paused as the projectile stuck to his sweater before it pathetically peeled on and on to the floor below you two. You blinked. Andrew blinked, then grabbed a fry, and threw it back at your face.

What followed was an in booth fight of several things being thrown: sauces, food, punches- ending with Andrew getting you in a headlock.

“Say it!”

“Never!”

“Fucking say it!” Andrew tightened the headlock as you flailed about.

You wheezed, “Ah! Asshole I can’t breathe!” You tried to pry his arm away, “Fine! Uncle! Uncle!”

With that, he released you- leaving you wheezing as you scooted away. He had that smug grin on his face though, a grin of victory. You flipped him off.

“Dick.” You muttered.

Andrew grabbed a napkin and began cleaning himself off, “You started it friend, I finished it.” He turned to you, pushing his basket of untouched fries to you, “Here. Most of yours are on the floor.”

You looked at him, tentatively reaching your hand for the basket before quickly pulling it to your side- feasting on them like a rabid raccoon. Andrew no longer watched in disgust, but a strange fondness in his eyes.

Ashley Graves

Maybe part of the reason Ashley kept you around was because you went along with her ideas

They were about the same thought process you had, so why not

You two always beat Andrew in votes for how to navigate a problem

And somehow always ended up pushing through it

Maybe she just liked how obedient you were with her

She’s easy on the eyes, and who are you to argue with a pretty woman

She never chastised you for your antics or behavior, but rather rewarded it

“So good Y/N!”, ruffling your hair, squishing your face while cooing all this praise

It felt….nice

So it made you feel terrible whenever it got taken away

Ashley was easy to upset, you learned that

You’d precariously tiptoe the line, and eagerly await the affection when she recovered and liked you again

You wished you never made her upset…

The air felt thick with tension, Ashley’s back turned to you as she looked out the window. It was just the two of you in the backseat of the hitman’s van, Andrew having stopped on the side of the road for a bathroom break. You didn’t know what you did wrong- but it must’ve been something to make her upset with you.

You tentatively reached out a hand, debating whether or not to grab hers. Before you could make the decision, she pulled it away without looking. A small whine arose from the back of your throat, like a hurt dog.

You wish you were a dog sometimes.

A dumb dog who couldn’t mess things up, maybe then she’d love you again.

“Ashley…” your tongue felt heavy in your mouth.

“What?” Her voice felt like a knife stabbing at your heart.

“I’m…I’m sorry…” you lowered your hand.

Ashley’s body made the slightest movement, “For?”

You tensed. Genuinely, you didn’t know what you did, but it must’ve been something. You gulped, looking down at the floor of the car, “For….” You grimaced as you couldn’t think of anything.

Ashley sighed, turning to face you. Her pink eyes stared into your own, you shrank a little at her glare, “Genuinely- you don’t know what you did?”

You shook your head, unable to stop the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Ashley sighed, apparently seeing you on the verge of crying was enough for her to open her arms to you. Without hesitation, you threw yourself into her arms- face burying itself into the crook of her neck as you sniffled. You felt her hand tangle itself into your hair, almost petting you.

“There there…” she shushed, “You’re forgiven.”

It felt like a weight was lifted from your shoulders as she said those words, you held on to her tighter- not wanting to let go. Not wanting to lose the one person who didn’t make you feel stupid or like a burden or annoying or- any of those things.

Ashley made you feel warm. Ashley made you feel good. Ashley is good.

And you want nothing more than to be good for her..

[kassiekole22]

Breakfast For Two, Mainly For One

Picture lightly edited by me.

Pairing: Chris x Ashley Description: Chris wakes up early to cook Ashley breakfast. The only problem: he has never actually cooked before... Warnings: This Is Probably One Of The Sweetest Fics I Have Ever Written So Be Warned: This Contains A Deadly Amount Of Fluff. Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I haven't written a non-x reader fic in FOREVER! Like, the last one I ever written was for Jalim and I can't even remember the last time I wrote for that ship. This was completely a spur of the moment thing but writing it made me so happy, so there will definitely be more Chrashley content coming from me in the future. 💖 (Also, I've begun using a grammar and punctuation checker to make sure I'm writing correctly, but I don't know if it's a legit site, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know. 🙂) Main MasterList: 🖤 TagList: @lorebite, @yellowroses-world, @house-of-kolchek, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @mornandil, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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Chris's eyes slowly began to open, but he quickly closed them again as a yawn escaped through his lips. The room was lit with an orange hue due to the early morning sun peaking through the half-drawn curtains. He turned his head to read the alarm clock — that had been shut off since it was the weekend — but everything was blurry. He reached to the bedside table to retrieve his glasses and put them on to read that it was 8 am. He looked down at the lovely little redhead in his arms — the love of his life — curled up at his side and still fast asleep.

He watched her for a few minutes, taking in all the details of her face and took note of how her pretty eyelashes would flicker every now and then as she dreamed. Remembering what he had planned for the day, Chris carefully wiggled out of Ashley's grasp and snuck out of the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him before heading to the kitchen.

Knowing that Ashley was a fairly sound sleeper, Chris knew that he didn't have to worry about noise once he got to the kitchen. He took a pan out of the drawer and set it on the stove before going to the fridge to retrieve the package of bacon he had bought the night before on his weekly grocery run. He laid a few strips on the pan before turning the burner on.

The bacon was tricky for him. He had only really made cereal for breakfast when he and Josh shared an apartment in their early twenties. And Ashley became the cook of the house when he had moved in with her after Josh had found a place of his own. But today he wanted to do something special for Ashley — something to show her how much he loved and appreciated her.

Once he had finished struggling through the bacon, he then went to the cupboard and took out some pancake mix before pulling up a screenshot on his phone of a pancake recipe that he found on some 'cooking for beginners' website.

He followed the recipe as carefully as he could, making sure to get everything as correct as possible — although that plan failed when he couldn't find the measuring cups. So, he decided to eyeball it if needed. Sure, the mix looked a bit too runny and lumpy by the time he was done, but he was sure it would be fine.

While he waited for the pancake to be ready to flip, he decided to set the table. He went to the closet and pulled out a table cloth that he had secretly bought the day prior and put it on the table — before setting two plates and some cutlery down for the two. He even put some yellow lilies — Ashley's favorite flower — in a vase for the centerpiece.

Everything was looking perfect. The next thing on the list was to finish the food— "Shit!" Chris cursed when he realized that he had left the pancake on the stove for way too long. He ran into the kitchen and quickly flipped the pancake over to see that it was black on the other side. He sighed while deciding that he would eat that one because to him, Ashley deserved better.

A few more burnt pancakes later and many failed air flips as well, resulting in pancake mix on the floor and the ceiling, Chris was finally done making pancakes and decided to make some eggs as well. Luckily for him, eggs were much easier than pancakes and didn't take long at all. He had just finished placing the food on the plates when Ashley stumbled into the kitchen while rubbing her eyes.

She removed her hands from her eyes and they widened at the sight before her. There stood Chirs — with a nervous smile on his face — waiting to see her reaction. Trying hard not to scrunch up her nose at the awful smell, Ashley smiled kindly at her new husband and walked over to press a sweet kiss on his cheek. She then hugged him tightly while burying her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Thank you, Chris." She murmured — her voice being muffled by his chest. This made Chris's nervous smile turn into a genuinely happy one.

"You're welcome, Ash. You deserve it." He then chuckled at his words. "Actually — you deserve better. I'm sorry it's so bad. I'm no gourmet chef at all."

She giggled as she pulled away from him just enough to peer up at his blue eyes with her green ones. She didn't care if he burnt every single crumb, she was still grateful for his efforts. No man had ever treated her as kindly as Chris did.

"It's ok, Chris — Really. I'm sure some of it is edible." She joked and he laughed, wanting to smack his forehead with the palm of his hand because of his stupid mistakes. "Seriously—" She then looked at him with pure love in her eyes. "It means the world to me. Thank you, Chris."

She stood up on her toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips, which he returned while softly placing his hands on each side of her face to caress her cheeks and to keep the kiss lingering for a bit longer. Once they broke the kiss, Chris leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

"So, shall we eat?" Ashely asked him — her voice barely above a whisper as her lips turned up into that little smile that he adored so much.

"Nah. That would be abuse if I made you eat that." He joked and she laughed. "How about cereal? Now I'm a master at that!"

"Oh, for sure! I don't think I have tried your famous Lucky Charms mixed with Fruit Loops and Frosted Flakes." She thought about it for a minute and then shook her head. "Nope. I haven't."

"Hmmm… Letting you try my famous Lucky Fruit Flakes? That's a big step in our relationship." He said in an overly serious tone as he parted from her and went to the cupboard to get two bowls while she began to clear the table. "Do you think we can handle that kind of commitment?"

She pretended to think about it for a moment while chewing on the inside of her cheek, "Hmmm, I don't know. We've been through a lot together but this is something else…"

"Guess there's only one way to find out," Chris said as he came back to the table holding the two bowls and all three cereal boxes, nearly dropping them all in the process. Ashley chuckled and took the bowls from him so he could set the cereal boxes down on the table.

"Hey, Chris." Ashley spoke softly and Chris turned to look at her with nothing but love and adoration for the girl within his blue eyes.

"Yeah, bean?" She tried not to chuckle at his little nickname for her. He had accidentally called her that on their second date when a memory of her dropping a bunch of coffee beans on the floor popped into his head and he had stuck with it ever since.

"I love you." She murmured as she wrapped her arms around him, taking in the warmth of his body as she held him close.

"I love you, too." He whispered back before wrapping his arms around her to complete the embrace while kissing the top of her head.

He had always known that he had loved Ashley but, at this moment, he knew that she was definitely the love of his life and nothing would ever change that.

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[thessalian]

Thess vs MCM Comic Con, Day 3

So before I start with the rundown of today, I will say this:

It was worth it.

I may not entirely believe that now, when everything fucking hurts and the stress and frustration of that level of people and noise and exertion and pain is still pretty much flattening me? But I know it was. The memory of how worth it this was will stay fresh long, long after the pain of the actual doing of it is gone.

So. Anyway. Day 3. Starting from after I made sandwiches and prepped to get an exchange on my d20-less gold sparkly dice.

We managed to get there in good time for the Critical Role panel. Now, obviously not in good time to get a seat in the main stage area where they were actually doing the panel, but giving it some thought, we didn't really want to be there anyway. We'd already been up close and personal with the Critical Role crew; we didn't need more than that. Plus the noise would have been way, way too much. So instead, we went over to one of the stages that was streaming the panel on their big screen. Which was better because the camera crew zoomed in when a question was directed at a particular person so we actually got to see them. And the panel was really good. It was so endearing when an audience member asked how they managed the whole thing with being business partners and friends and they talked about how Matt insists that they all hang out just as friends outside of the game space and the business space, and how Travis is this really supportive protective Big Poppa Bear of a CEO, and how it's easier with a group of friends than it is with a two-person partnership or trio because you've got people who can step in and mediate when tempers run a bit high ... and most of all when Ashley said she literally didn't know what she'd do without them (and then had to hand off the mic because she was about to start crying) and Sam said how he really just wanted them to be doing this - being the friends and family they'd become - for the rest of their lives ... and to wear a T-shirt with Matt's face on it at Matt's funeral. I honestly have zero worries about Critical Role LLC and its potential effects on their friendship. Seems like they're doing just fine.

There were no problems with taking my dice back. Thankfully, I got the same guy who sold them to me in the first place, though given the ambient noise and low light levels in the area, it was a bit of a struggle to get him to understand the problem. When he finally understood, he did go the extra mile finding me a replacement set. I repaid that kindness by stopping him when he went to put the dice set I was returning back into the box of merchandise for display / sale. Didn't want him to go through that again, y'know?

(Side note: turns out that the little golden shinies in my Alisaie-themed dice set are, in fact, small golden capital As. That's serendipity on a ridiculous level, right there.)

After that ... I admit it all caught up to me and on top of the body aches, spasms, and migraine, I remembered just how difficult it is to wander a convention hall with someone whose interests in terms of art and entertainment kind of vary from yours. So I suggested to Marion that we split up for an hour and a half, and meet up somewhere to devour lunch and see where we were going from there. I browsed a bit, but mostly I just found a place to sit down and watch the cosplay go by. I mean, I did make an attempt to go outside, partly for a smoke but mostly for someplace where I could be more than two feet away from any human being ... but it had started to rain and so I still ended up crammed under the awnings with my fellows who also wanted fresh air and/or nicotine.

By the time I met up with Marion again, I was getting to that "I am struggling to form coherent sentences" level of migraine, holding it at bay with some co-codamol that I took with the first can of A&W root beer I've had in years, and it was just what I needed, thank you. So we scarfed down lunch. I was honestly ready to leave right then, but Marion wanted one last turn-around to look for a couple of things she hadn't spotted in her first trip. I couldn't really deny her that no matter how much I wanted to go home, so we agreed to meet up in about an hour at the "Reset Room" (they had a room especially designed for people who just needed to decompress; probably the most useful thing they actually did in terms of accommodations, I have to say).

In that time, I caved and bought a copy of Flavours of the Multiverse - a D&D themed cookbook. It wasn't my only purchase of the day, mind you. I also got three pin-badges - one "That's How I Roll" one, one "Shiny Math Rocks" one ... and one that just reads "They/She". That and a "They/Them" nonbinary flag-coloured lanyard. At least there, I could wear those things without being too afraid. Anyway, after my few purchases and another trip outside (where, thankfully, it had stopped raining), I read my new cookbook until Marion rejoined me and we headed home. Unfortunately, on top of all the stairs at London Bridge and Elephant and Castle stations, there were a surprising number of people cramming themselves on the 363 at 5pm on a Sunday. So my Time of Squishening unfortunately got a little bit extended. Still, I am now home and have had coffee and more painkillers and I feel a bit better.

That was probably my last MCM Comic Con. It's definitely the last one I go to for all three days. The accommodations were insufficient (though in all fairness, that's entirely down to the organisers - the stewards were so nice and tried so hard to make things work when it was clear that the original organisational scheme was a shit-show), and the attendees ... well, most of them were really nice but I cannot count how many people I had to nearly throw myself at a wall to avoid because they were walking through a crowded convention hall while looking at their phones. Or just anywhere but straight in front of themselves. And public transport ... well, some of that "step-free access" is only on a technicality, put it that way, and it's actually easier to just struggle with the stairs if you can. I think the worst part of this has been that it's basically opened a window on another part of how hard my life is going to be now.

But never mind. I'm going to decompress a bit. I am going to make breakfast-for-dinner in the form of French toast and bacon, I am going to sit Marion down through the rest of Arcane, and I am going to enjoy my last evening with my houseguest. And at some point I am going to look into the work of the Hire A Bard guy I saw at the convention, who will set your character and/or campaign to music for a fee. This might be worth considering as a Christmas gift (however delayed) for the Cupcake Coterie.

Anyway. Yeah. I hurt. I am very much not at my best. But it was worth it.

[woodypellets]

Tickle dream?

Ok so yesterday I had a tickle dream(not sure how or why)

but basically it was abt my oc so i thought, "Hey why don't i write this down?" soo doing that now

But since i never talk abt my oc lemme do a quick explaining

Alco: A female ghost, doesn't have left eye ball. The most sensitive on both physical and mental out of the group. after death doesn't really remember how she died. Looks more like a fox puppet rip off, but doesn't have button eyes, strings and less color. Pretty tall, and is the oldest out of all, she also has this big smile on her face. Has always been the ler mind some how at first. she always act very...mysterious. Her limb can bend different ways and has a good poker face. Talks with a voice box so her voice is kinda cracky.

Deen: the middle child, the brother of Alco and Ashley(they aren't bio related tho). This...is zombie boi, he usually is in his illusion disk to look human, he has purple and white hair which makes him very special(also why I personally like him a lot :D) not the brightest of all but has a very...interesting humor. he's teasy brother type, but when he is working he really just need a little, maybe a tickle break?

Ashley: The youngest sibling, acid monster? The thing i like abt her is her little mint gloves, that's it. Half blind, Alco's bio sister. she can't feel the sense of touch but still has some interest in tickling. That one always nice nice sibling, yes. uhhh did i say she was half blind yet? Oh ok.

ft. lee!Alco, ler!Deen(a side character) and ler!Ashley Warning: this is a sfw tk fic, bad grammer

EK HEM- ~narrator moment~

"And you said this is gonna...what?" ask the ghostly girl.

"Ohhh it's just gonna do a quick scan on you so your illusion disk can look more like you!" Answered her younger sister.

"And to be scanned you'll be lining riiiight there!" she said as she pointed to a top bunk bed which they are sitting under (and i swear i have never in my life seen that bed before) ".

"And what is he doing here?" Alco gave a ✨bombastic side eye✨ to the boy next to her munching on who knows what.

"Oh I'm just here to watch. :3 " Deen exclaimed shaking his feet like a 4 years old.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit!" Ashley sai- "i think." ...she muttered. "whats ya say?"

"OH NOTHING. Lets gets started!"

"Okay??" Alco said with a slight questionable look.

Alco then...idk just lay down there ig, then Ashley and Deen looked at the monitor (wonder where that come from).

As Alco was laying there two hands appeared above her (btw Ash and Deen can't see what's going on up there) making her a little nervous, but everything was chill when it started scanning slowly from top to bottom in one go. But! the silence didn't last that long until...

"hm" a small high pitched noise that is almost unherdable came out of Alco.

"huh?" Ashley confusingly looked at her.

"Oh nothing, just felt it was too silence like no one was here~"

Good thing Alco had a very strong poker face, or those stubby hands holding her arms would've already make her giggle like crazy!

"Ok...? we'll just continue the-"

"AH"

"...are you ok?" Ashley asked

"yehes" Alco stuttered out letting a few giggles slip out.

"...drama?" Deen being Deen ig :/

So they all pretend that didn't happen, but Ashley did have a little suspicion (insert among us remix).

Although Alco was good at hiding her expression but it wasn't long before she had fallen in to small giggle fits when the scan hands started scanning/touching her tummy.

"hehehhehehaha Nohohoo!" Alco giggled out squirming a little.

"Uhh what's going on up there? Everything alright?" Ashley checked one more time to make sure if her theory was correct (IS JUST A THEORY, A GA- no we're not doing that.)

"YES, Im sureEheh" Alco struggled a bit while giggling it out, as the fingers slowly moved on her.

But at this point it looked like the scan hands were doing it on purpose! It twirled and twisted her hips and belly as if it was trying to squeeze all the butterfly giggles out of her, which most definitely made her flail like crazy despite that most of her sensitive parts the middle areas.

So covering her mouth trying hard not to move so much just to get this over with, the hands danced to her knees.

…ticklish knees much?

"EEEHEEH-" Looks like it made our little Coco here shriek! But somehow, Ashley did not make a peep. As if she didn't hear a thing, but after the first experience I'm pretty sure we all know what's going on here ;) or...do we?

"...a puzzled void noise..." Yes, Deen still didn't know what was going on after all that, but slowly picking up some stuff.

"hM...pff..." Alco tried to speak but she couldn't even talk without letting out a squeal and a giggle in it. Biting her lips, she wanted to kicked those hands of but GOD those hands are strong one holding both of her ankles one scanning tickling her legs.

"Uhuhhm, Ahahshly is this Ahall most ohohver?"

Ashley replied to her question still playing along, "oh stop being a whiney baby, yes its almost over just. Just about to finish up the last part."

Through her giggles, the scanning finally stopped.

"Phew" Finally thinking that the ticklish feeling stopped, she sat up rubbing her cheeks brushing the blush on her cheeks. But suddenly...

"Ok onto the 'finish up' we go!" Ashley called out.

"Wait huh???" Before Alco could even react, the two scan hands flipped her over (idk how flip, like an egg I guess) scanning from bottom to top.

Now the thing is, all of Alco's tickle spots happen to be right behind her. Her spine, her shoulder lines, heck even he back of her head is a weak spot!

"whA-W-WHAIT! Now i don't think i need this illusion disk scan anymore, hhaha. I thinK it's PREtty fine the wAHAy it is right now! HEHE." Alco couldn't help but let out her wobbly smile.

"oh is that so, hm? Welp, can't stop what ya started!" With no regret while saying that.

"NO-" Not even letting her finish her sentence two more hand (fr I have no idea where that came from-) holding her arms down incase she tries to get up. The other two free hands went up to the lower part of her back and just look at the next part alone you can tell how bad that was XD

"NOHO WAIT, STAHAHP PLeaHESE HEHE THaT tICKLES EEP!!" She couldn't help but flail like a fish out of the water.

"Oh does it now? I never knew! Guess you'll have to just endure it then~" Ashley told her with a slight taunt-ish tone.

"EHEHVIHEL EviL HEHEHE" she laught out loud. "ThiS IS TERRIBLEHEHE!" pushing her face into a pillow hiding her pink and blushy face

"well if you think THATS terrible then wait for this!" Her brother Deen giggled alone as the hands moved up to her neck and the back of her head.

At this point Alco was going hysterical was kicking, twiching and clawing on the bedsheet, hmm maybe it was a little to overwhelming for her. But hey! Atleast she was having fun ;)

"TIHIME OHOHUHTT NOHOHO MOREHEHE NOMORENOMOREPLEASE HAHAHA."

"Ok just gonna finish this up...there!" Ash said as she turned of the scanner.

"you good there Al? you seem a little giggly ;)" Deen teased.

while on the other hand, "not.*hic* fuhnny..." Alco replied to him.

ANND THEN I WOKE UP :D

thats it

[autumnbell32]

*tw: depression, SI talk

I Don't Wear Mascara Anymore

I want to live, I just can't handle living at this point. And trying to explain that distinction to doctors is tricky business. "Please help me BEFORE I get to this point," I've begged over and over again. Even when you aren't at that point, even mentioning that point is risky because there isn't any room for talking about it. I can't speak for everyone, but living in the silence of long term mental illness is deafening- you literally lose any source of human noise around you. People stop understanding you, people expect you to stop talking about it even though it puts a grey veil over all of your days, people blame you, people get frustrated, people go away. Especially if it has been a long battle. I didn't choose this battle, but the fact that I keep choosing to fight it also gets stifled in the silence.

I sent a message to my doctor a few days ago telling him that these mood cycles- especially since they are happening around my period almost every month- aren't sustainable for me anymore. No one should expect me just to be ok with building myself up for two weeks out of the month, only to fall again for the last two weeks. I'm trying to do my part- I workout three days a week, I still go to work, etc etc etc. I walk talk and breathe. I slip up, though, when the symptoms are bad- I numb out with glucose because there isn't really any comfort in my life. And I'm in therapy to address that. I made my motivation very clear in the message- I will do more work to lessen the symptoms of this illness, but I can't do it alone and I can't continue on this particular path. I need my doctor's help- maybe he needs to recognize that functioning does not nullify suffering. I'm suffering immensely.

I was met with a call from the nurse saying I needed to go to the ER. "Why? I'm not su*cidal, I'm not going to hurt anyone else, and the doctor said I'm medication resistant so what would the point be? I don't fit the criteria." The nurse put me on hold and put an NP, who I have never in my life talked to, on the phone to school me on the legality of making sure I'm safe. And to ask me what I expect an 8-5 doctor's office to actually do for me. And to tell me she wasn't even sure there is anything that could help me anymore.

The answer can't always be hospitalization, there are a lot of us that are resilient but still suffering and I wish doctors would stop being comfortable with their script pads and inpatient orders. There is a portion of us that that does not help anymore, so we get written off in another way. Maybe it is just the people in my life, I'd be so glad to know that others struggling with long term mental illness have people to be patient with them and remind them of who they are. But people in my life are ok with me remaining silent and hidden. Realizing that you might be another face that fades someday because of a mental illness is an immediate gut drop. Every time I have realized that possibility, I see myself standing at the mouth of some source of human existence and I swear I feel ego death (and not in a good way).

After seeing my screen name in a depression support chat, another member noted that it is a reference to a piece of classic literature. "Yes, it is," I responded. And then I cried, because intractable mental illness makes you forget yourself- your preferences, your humanity (you become walking pain). You lose your visibility. Even if you do remember, those things aren't easily accessible when sick. Jesus, even I am getting sick of talking about all of this. Scream into the void long enough, and you are going to lose your fucking voice.

My name is Ashley and I love classic literature and horror movies and warm, rainy days and the smell of peonies and baking and helping others and weird 80s-inspired synth music and running and animals. I'm hoping that, someday in the near future, I will want to fill my apartment with plants and be semi-good at trail running and I will want to write most days and I will have a partner that will show me what love without immense pain looks like and I will want to cook for myself more and I will be able to travel and I will be able to recover some of the life that I have lost. My name is Ashley and, someday soon, I hope that I will be able to make it through a day without crying.

[affluenzafm]

you know you love me.

Meet TERRI MACGREGOR, or if you read the Anti Grapevine, WITCH. She is a 23 year old FIGURE SKATER, that currently resides in WILLIAMSBURG.

She is known around the city for her EMPATHETIC & NAIVE demeanor, but they may be hiding something… SHE’S BEEN MODELLING FOR PLUS SIZE LINGERIE UNDER AN ALIAS.

BREE KISH, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER.

Terri is a talented and sweet woman, known for her impressive skills as a figure skater. However, despite her success in the sport, she’s always struggled with insecurities, particularly about her body image and self-esteem. Being constantly in the public eye has only amplified these feelings, leaving Terri grappling with her sense of self-worth. Though she shines on the ice, her personal life is often overshadowed by her internal battles. The pressure to meet society’s expectations of beauty and grace weighs heavily on her, and she has a hard time finding her own voice amidst the noise. Terri’s journey is one of self-discovery and quiet resilience, trying to carve out a space where she can embrace who she truly is, beyond the image she’s been molded into. While her talent is undeniable, it’s the ongoing struggle for self-acceptance that defines much of her path. As she continues to navigate her career and personal growth, Terri is slowly learning that her worth isn’t defined by how others see her, but by how she sees herself.

it's all about who you know.

MARISOL LEWIS. best friend. Terri and Marisol's friendship is the definition of opposites attracting. Despite their differences, they’ve built an unbreakable bond, grounded in mutual respect and unwavering support. Whether it’s Terri grounding Marisol or Marisol pushing Terri to reach for more, they balance each other out perfectly. They’ve been through it all together—successes, struggles, and everything in between—and no matter what, they always have each other’s backs. There’s nothing or no one that could ever tear apart their fierce loyalty.

ASHLEY KERWIN. confidants. Terri and Ashley share a deep and dependable friendship, built on trust and mutual understanding. They’ve become each other’s safe space, always there to lend an ear when life becomes overwhelming or when they need someone to confide in without fear of judgment. Whether it’s navigating personal struggles or celebrating small victories, they’re the first person the other turns to. Over time, their bond has only grown stronger, as they’ve come to realize they can always count on one another, no matter what life throws their way.

ALEX NUNEZ. bad influence. Terri and Alex’s unlikely friendship is a case of opposites attracting in the best way. Terri, drawn to Alex’s rebellious streak, couldn’t help but admire her unapologetic attitude, while Alex found Terri’s sweet and unassuming nature a refreshing change from her usual crowd. At first, their time together seemed like an experiment in opposites, but as walls came down, they discovered an unexpected depth to their connection. Shared moments of laughter and vulnerability have slowly given way to a budding attraction, leaving them both wondering if this unexpected bond could lead to something more.

this character is taken.