#always did it the way i know he wants it even though he never actually told me not to make it too hard for him

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[gretavangroupie]

Imber

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 21.5k

Warnings: Camping Jake, Cursing, Alcohol, Arguing, Pining, Angst, Severe Weather, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I had a thought and couldn't let it go. Special thanks to @gretavanmoon and @builtbybrokenbells for always supporting me and listening to my rambling voice memos. Love you both.

You watch as the familiar white Jeep pulls into your driveway, a cloud of dust filling the air as the car shifts into park. It’s only seconds before Clara is bounding out of the passenger door, running up to meet you on your porch.

“Clara…” you say, a suspicious look on your face.

“Josh said he wanted to tag along since he’s home…I couldn’t say no! Don’t be mad!” she whines nervously, knowing good and well this was supposed to be a girls weekend. 

You squint your eyes at her and let out a faux huff of annoyance, “It’s fine,” you say, sending her a playful smile.

“Are you sure?” she asks, bending down to help you grab your camping supplies. 

“Of course, Clara. I was just kidding around. You know I love Josh, and I know you hardly ever get to do stuff like this together. In fact, if you two want to just go, I can stay–”

“No way. You’re absolutely coming! Don’t start!” she shouts, slinging your duffle bag over her shoulder. “Let’s get you loaded up and on the road.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes organizing your things into the trunk, tetrising a few items until the trunk door would shut. You climb into the backseat, taking up residence next to the cooler packed with food for the weekend. 

“Hi Y/N! Thanks for letting me crash your camping trip!” Josh says, turning around in the driver's seat to flash you a smile. 

“Of course! I mean, if I knew that you were going to be home we could have planned like, a whole thing. It’s really no big deal. The more the merrier!” you answer, feeling Clara’s hand reach back to squeeze yours in thanks.

“Just a little break, only three weeks or so then we are back to it. Germany next,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you in the rearview mirror. 

You listen to him and Clara talk about the next leg of his tour, seeing the city start to taper off outside the car window. The trees are growing thick and the signs of humanity are next to none. 

“So where exactly are we going on this camping adventure, Clara?” you laugh, never really discussing a location in your earlier planning. 

“We’re going out to Leiper’s Fork, have you ever been there?” Josh answers.

“No, but I’ve heard of it!”

“Yeah, it’s a super cool little spot. Super secluded and gorgeous this time of year. Been out here a few times,” he says, letting his hand move to rest on Clara’s thigh. 

“How did you even find this? I feel like we are in the middle of nowhere!” you laugh, letting your eyes focus on the multicolored trees out the window. 

“Oh this is Jake’s spot. He’s always out here. Likes to come out here to write,” he pauses, turning to look at Clara. You can sense the nervous energy in his voice,  “He’s um, he’s actually going to be joining us.”

“Oh?” 

You feel a rush of panic wash over you. To say that your relationship with Jake was a bit rocky would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if there was ever really one thing that started it, one thing that made him dislike you so much, it just kind of evolved into what it is. You always seemed to find yourself in the same room as him, at the same parties with him, and attending the same shows, thanks to Josh and Clara. Though, neither of you ever bothered to speak to each other, let alone acknowledge the other's existence. It turned into an unspoken feud, filled with harsh whispers and judgemental glances, letting Josh and Clara be the buffer between the two of you. 

The thought of him joining you this weekend had you wishing you never agreed to the trip in the first place, and you know that they waited until you were this far out of town to break the news to you. 

“It will be fine babe, don’t worry. He will keep to himself like usual,” Clara says, sending you a guilty look. 

“Clara…”

“She’s right. He is different when we come out here. He might even be nice, who knows,” Josh laughs. It eases your anxiety just enough and you find yourself agreeing to this set up.

“Alright, it’s fine. I mean, it’s only two days anyway.”

–

The three of you spend most of the afternoon setting up your tents, wrestling the skinny fiberglass poles through the brightly colored fabric in fits of laughter. You took up shop beneath an old Oak tree, hoping it would provide a bit of shelter from the sun and the wind. Clara and Josh set up their tent just across from you, closer to the car and the fire pit. 

You organized your things in your tent, listening as Josh got chairs set up around the fire pit. He and Clara pulled the cooler from the car, tossing you a beer and as the sun started to dip in the sky, you talked about dinner and made plans for tomorrow's adventures. 

It was nearly sunset before you heard the rumble of tires as Jake’s Jeep pulled up to the campsite. You all snap your heads in his direction, seeing him jump out of the drivers side with a smirk on his lips. 

“Glad you could join us,” Josh teases. 

“Can’t rush these things,” he counters, nodding his head to Clara as a hello. His eyes flick over you and you watch as the expression on his face changes. His jaw tightens and his lips flatten into a thin line. A grumble of something leaves his lips in a whisper, and you don’t even have to hear it to know what he said wasn't pleasant. 

You look away quickly, turning your attention back to the vegetables you were cutting up for dinner. He turns back towards his car, gathering his things from the trunk as he continues to gripe incoherently. 

You focus on Josh and Clara, who are working on their own dinners, trying to keep the conversation flowing and ease the obvious tension. 

Jake tosses his things to the ground, preparing to set up his tent next to yours. You don’t dare tell him that it’s yours, and he doesn't dare ask. You continue to fill the tin foil with vegetables and meat, letting them marinate just long enough to get the fire started. 

“Jake, let’s go,” Josh says, motioning him over towards him.

“Go where,” he asks. 

“Need to gather firewood and I’m not making Clara carry it,” he says. Jake nods and gets up, jogging over to meet him. The two of them disappear into the thick woods, leaving you and Clara by yourselves at the campsite.

“This is going just great, wouldn’t you say?” you taunt, elbowing Clara from your camp chair. Her gaze is completely fixed on her phone, her eyes frantically flicking around the screen. 

“Hello? Earth to Clara?” you continue, still unable to break her away from her phone. 

She gets up and walks around, holding her phone to the sky in hopes of strengthening her signal.

“What's up, is everything okay?” you shout, starting to feel a little nervous. 

“Yeah, um, it’s fine. I think? I don’t know. I just got a weird text from my sister, and now I don’t have any service,” she says, biting at her bottom lip. 

“You can use mine if you want, I don’t know if my service is any better though. We are kinda in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s– It’s fine. I think,” she says, sitting back down in her chair next to you. 

“Anyway, what were you saying? Sorry, I suck,” she says, turning to look at you apologetically.

Just as you go to speak you hear the crunching of leaves and sticks, and see the shadowy figure of the two men returning with an arm full of firewood. 

“Well, nothing now,” you laugh, motioning to Josh and Jake. 

“Oh, okay, later?” she asks, hoping you will fill her in. 

“Yes, later,” you mumble.

Josh and Jake step up, tossing the wood into a pile next to the fire pit. “That should be enough for two days,” Josh says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. 

Jake’s eyes meet yours, only for a second before storming off to his car. You shake it off and try to focus on Josh as he builds the fire in front of you, using an obnoxious amount of lighter fluid in the process. 

“Clara he is going to light us all on–”

Her phone ringing interrupts you, grabbing her attention as she rushes to answer it. She stands up and walks away towards the car, and you watch as her demeanor shifts into panic. Your eyes meet Josh’s, both of you feeling uneasy about whatever is happening on that phone call. She rushes back over to you, her face fear stricken and her hands visibly shaking. 

“Josh, we have to go! We have to go right now!” she shouts, frantically rushing around and grabbing things from inside their tent.

“What? Clara, what's going on?!” he asks, trying to calm her down. 

“Ashton! She’s going into labor! She’s on her way to the hospital right now! She wasn’t due until next week! I don’t know, I don't know! But we have to go right now!” she says, pulling out of his grip and continuing to grab her things and throw them in the car. 

“Oh shit! Okay, yes, yes we can go, um…” he pauses, looking over towards Jake at his tent and you sitting in the chair in front of him, “Fuck, um…Y/N, do you uh, want to come with us, or–”

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I had no idea or I wouldn’t have– fuck, you should just… stay, enjoy the campsite and just relax. I’m so sorry I promise I will make this up to you!” Clara cries, her nervous energy transferring to you. 

It’s mere seconds before her and Josh are jumping into his car and pulling out of the campsite, abandoning their tent, their dinner and the rest of their belongings. 

Fuck.

You stand up from your chair, processing what exactly happened as you stare at the roaring fire. 

“Where uh, where did they go?” Jake asks, appearing from his tent as he hears the car peeling out of the campsite. 

You turn to look at him, shocked that he even spoke to you, while also realizing that now it’s just the two of you. Alone.

“They– Clara’s sister is having her baby. Early. They just…left– I–”

“Left?” he asks, “Like for good?”

“I…think so…” you answer, watching as he drags his hand across his face. The hem of his flannel lifts in the process revealing the tiniest peek at his tanned torso, so you quickly divert your eyes before he notices your staring. 

“Of course,” he gripes, kicking at the pile of firewood. He mutters something under his breath and you feel a wave of embarrassment at the thought of him dreading being around you this much. 

He huffs out a breath and turns to you, “Well, do you want to stay here or–”

“I mean, do you want to stay?” you question, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. 

“I have no issue with staying. I know you were only here for them, so if you want to leave I promise it’s not going to hurt my feelings. I’m used to being out here alone anyway,” he says, his tone a little clipped. “Prefer it.”

“Are you going to be mad if I do want to stay?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You let your eyes meet his for a few seconds, both of you looking at each other as he thinks of his answer.

Again he rubs his hand over his face, shaking his head, “No, no I won’t be fucking mad– I just– Do you want to fucking stay, yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay. Then we’ll stay,” he says, lowering the sound of his voice. His eyes flick around your face for a few seconds before turning to look at the fire. You can tell he is agitated, but when is he not?

“Jesus, he always uses too much fluid,” he gripes, turning his attention to the flames. “Pyromaniac.”

“Well, I guess we can throw these on?” you say, picking up the tin foil packets. 

“Yeah yeah, um, just set ‘em there,” he says, looking up to you from his crouched position next to the fire pit.

“Do you…want a drink or something?” you ask, feeling the awkwardness between you growing quickly. You can feel the hostility pouring off of him, and getting a drink seems to be you only escape plan.

“What’s in there?” he asks, looking over towards the cooler. 

“Beer?” you pause, “I don’t know, Josh packed it.”

“Whatever’s in there is fine,” he says, tossing the foil packets onto the flames.

You make your way to the cooler, grabbing two icy cans and returning to your chair to see Jake sitting in the one on the opposite side of the fire pit. You hand the can to him, seeing a side smile pull across his lips as he nods his head in thanks. 

“Got something stronger in the car if you want it,” he smirks, popping the tab on his can.

The small sliver of a smile nearly takes your breath away. “Oh, um, no this is good. Thank you though.”

It’s quiet between the two of you, both of you sipping at your beers as you watch the fire in front of you. You want to say something to him, start a conversation, maybe even chip away at his tough exterior, but you know that comes with risks. Risks you aren't willing to take while stranded in the woods for the next two days. 

It’s him though, that strikes up a conversation, but it’s not to make small talk, it’s to get answers. 

“Why do you even want to stay if Clara left?” he asks, bringing his can to his lips. 

You take a second to think about it, “Well, because I bought all this camping stuff, mostly. I’ve been looking forward to this little trip. I like being in nature, and I don’t get to do it often enough. Going in the woods alone as a woman isn’t exactly the safest either. So yeah, it sucks they had to leave but I’d rather be here than back at my place staring at my camping supplies sitting at my front door.”

“No other reason?” he asks, lowering his voice a little as he pokes at the foil packs with a stick.

You shake your head slowly, “Not that I can think of, no.”

He scoffs and flips the packets over before sitting back in his chair. You can feel him judging you, and the silence as he snickers at you confirms it. 

“Don’t be like that, Jake. You wanted to stay, too.”

“Yeah, but I come out here all the time. This is my damn spot,” he snaps.

“Well excuse me for intruding! I can call a fucking cab but I don’t think they will find me out here!”

“Jesus, relax,” he groans, “You know what? That's your problem. You’re too…you’re too uptight.”

“I’m uptight?!” you gasp, “What about you?! Mister, brooding misunderstood rockstar, can't stand to be in the same room as a person that doesn't fall at his feet and sing his praises,” you bark. 

“No, see, that's where you’re wrong. I’m not brooding or misunderstood. The people that I want to know me, know me just fine. I just don't put my feelings on display for everyone I meet. I have a certain way I like to live my life. And if that comes across as brooding and misunderstood, then so be it.”

“You know, you’re insufferable sometimes…” you grit.

“Well thank you for your input. I’ll be sure to put that in my diary later,” he snickers. 

“Do you have any respect for anyone?” you shout from across the fire.

“Of course I do. Those who earn it,” he says, raising his eyebrows. 

“You’re so–” you pause, grunting in frustration when you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry I have standards, sweetheart,” he says, taking another long pull of his beer. 

“Standards? What is that supposed to mean?” you shout, feeling yourself getting a little worked up. 

He glances up at you over the fire, “I don't let just anyone come into my life and get all up close and personal. You have to earn that. Which means my standards are a little higher than most.”

You cut your eyes at him, “Why are you like this? All cold and cryptic…I don’t even know what I did to make you dislike me this much.”

His eyes are dark and unyielding, his lips turning into a smile as he laughs, “I never said I dislike you. You just don't like how I present myself because it goes against what you’re used to. You're used to easy going guys, who let you do anything you want because you’re pretty. Not guys who are a little closed off and reserved. You don't want a little bit of a challenge.”

“Who said I even want you at all?” you bite back.

“You didn’t need to say it, sweetheart. You’re easy to read,” he says, sending you a smug grin. 

“Well, find a different book.”

“You’re also a smartass,” he says, leaning forward to pull the foil packets from the fire with a stick. He carefully opens up the hot foil, and checks them to make sure they are cooked through. His eyes flick up to yours, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say begrudgingly, leaning forward to reach for the foil wrapped food. You unroll the foil and reach for the plastic forks, offering one to Jake. He takes it with the raise of his brow, casually picking at the food in the silver wrap. 

“Explains a few things,” he mutters with a smirk. 

“Is this how this is going to be? Are you just going to dig at me all weekend until we go our separate ways?” you ask, starting to feel a little fed up.

“You tell me. Is that what you want?” he asks, biting a carrot from his fork. 

“No, I want us to just get along the best we can. I want this to be at least a little enjoyable.”

He looks at you for a moment and seems to soften a bit. “Fine,” he says, “So what would you like to talk about then, sweetheart?"

You roll your eyes at the pet name you’ve adopted, “I don't know, what do you enjoy talking about? Pretend it's not me. Tell me about life on tour or something.”

He nods and picks at his food, seemingly thinking for a minute before he speaks. “Well,” he begins, “The tour has been good, a few bumps along the way. We hit some bad weather in Huntsville that delayed one of our shows for a night, but other than that it was a good run. I think everyone is holding up fine.”

“What about you, though. Are you holding up fine?” you ask. 

He seems taken aback by the question. He looks at you with a surprised expression, almost as if it’s the first time someone has asked him about himself. He looks down at his food and is quiet for a moment before mumbling, “Yeah…I’m fine. Why?”

“I don't know, you just seem...agitated with everything lately. Every time I see you, you just seem quiet.”

He looks up at you again, holding eye-contact for a minute. He is tempted to deny it, to tell you everything is fine, but he doesn’t. Maybe there’s a part of him that wants to be honest with you. The other part terrified of letting you see through the walls he has worked so hard to build up.

“That’s just how I am,” he says quietly. He glances up at you and then back at the fire again, “That’s how I present myself. And it’s always been that way. It’s how people expect me to be most of the time and I don’t blame them. Most of my music is written about heartache and struggle whether personal or not. It’s everything I am. But I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m always fine.”

You shrug your shoulders, not wanting to pry anymore, feeling satisfied with the little bit he’s allowed you,. “Okay.”

The two of you eat in silence for a few more minutes, the wind starting to pick up, as the leaves rustle behind you. Jake seems to have softened a bit since your earlier banter, and you wonder if he is feeling a little guilty for his hand in the taunting. 

He looks at you again with a raised eyebrow, “What about you, then? Are you fine?”

He’s asking about you? 

“I mean, yeah. I think I'm fine. There are some things I wish were different, but that's life,” you offer, not wanting to delve too far into things. Not that he would care anyway. 

He seems a little taken aback with your response. Not that it surprised him that you have personal problems, but he wasn’t expecting you to be honest with him. Almost anyone else would have painted a perfect picture and made themselves appear significantly better than they actually were. There was a moment between you two when the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the chirping of Cicadas before he quietly spoke again.

“What do you wish were different?”

“Ahh, it’s nothing really. Just sometimes I wonder if I am where I am supposed to be. You know, the normal stuff,” you say, offering him a smile.  

He looks at you for a beat and nods slowly, seeming to take that in. “I don’t think anyone truly knows if they’re where they’re meant to be. One of the mysteries of life, I suppose.”

“What?” you nod, encouraging him to continue. “What were you going to say? You look like you wanted to ask something.” 

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, looking back into the fire and away from you. 

“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head as if dismissing whatever he was just thinking and stands up. He walks towards the treeline with an unreadable expression on his face, and you wonder what he could possibly be thinking. The wind sends a shiver through you, and you decide to grab the s'mores ingredients from the cooler before he comes back. If he comes back. 

He walks away, disappearing into the trees as he goes to relieve himself. He stands there for a moment, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cool night air. He runs a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath as he replays your conversation. He hates that you can break him down so easily, that you seem to understand him better than he understands himself, and worse that you even care enough to ask. 

He zips up and turns to head back towards the tent, feeling frustrated and conflicted. He knows he's being unfair to you, knows that he's acting cold and distant for no good reason. But he can't help it. It’s all he can do. He doesn't want to get close to people, doesn't want to let them in. Especially not you. 

You work quickly trying to place the marshmallows on sticks, finding it to be a lot harder than you thought. With a little elbow grease and a dream you shoved the sticky blobs on the ends of the sticks, dangling them gingerly over the open flames. 

With both hands occupied it's hard to shield your arms from the cool wind that is dancing through your campsite. A chill rises to your skin despite the warmth of the fire. You quickly forget about it though as you see Jake reappearing through the treeline. He walks up with his hands in his pockets, his eyes studying you as you roast the two marshmallows. 

“What are you up to now?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“I mean…Roasting marshmallows, what do you mean?” you ask, confused as to why he was confused. 

His eyes roam over you and a small smirk appears at the corner of his mouth. He leans a little bit closer to study what you’re doing, laughing under his breath.

“You’re going to burn them, sweetheart.”

“No I’m not. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” you quip, rotating the sticks. 

He laughs and shakes his head, “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a mess of black, gooey, sugar.”

He moves a little closer behind you, until his chest is mere inches away from your back. His voice drops to a teasing whisper against your ear. “But, by all means, continue.”

If the goosebumps weren’t already taking up residency on your body, they would be now. He takes the chair next to you this time, instead of his previous one across from you. You don’t question it, and he doesn’t mention it, so you leave it at that. 

You watch as the marshmallows start to puff up, knowing they are done and ready to be put on the graham cracker, but that's when you realize you only have two hands, and this is in fact, about to go south quickly.

“Here, hand one to me,” he says, grabbing the stick from your hand. “Put that one together, and then do this one.”

You work quickly to assemble the marshmallow, chocolate and graham cracker, your fingers growing into a sticky, sugary mess as it starts to deflate. It’s melting the chocolate perfectly, and you think you may have just made the perfect s’more. The wind starts to whip a little harder, blowing your hair around your face just a little too much. Jake hands you the stick back, letting you assemble the other s’more, trying to push your hair out of your face with your wrist. 

From his spot next to you, you can feel his eyes on you. Watching you struggle, giggling a little under his breath as you fight through the mess of hair in your eyes. 

You place the chocolate on the cracker before trying to position the marshmallow on top, a huff of frustration falling from your lips as you push your hair back with the side of your arm. “Fuck,” you growl. 

You hear him laugh again, but this time it's accompanied with him standing up from his seat. You turn your head and watch as he pulls a black hair tie from his finger. His fingers brush against your neck for a moment, gathering your hair into his fist and pulling it up into a quick ponytail. It is an unexpectedly sweet and careful gesture on his part, taking you completely by surprise. 

He steps back and looks over you, now with your hair out of the way. “There,” he says, taking his seat once more.

“Th–thank you,” you squeak out, still reeling over the feeling of his hands on your skin. 

There is a beat of silence between you where he just looks at you. His eyes drift from your face down to your fingers and the gooey mess you had created from assembling the s’mores. 

He suddenly snickers,“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

You shrug your shoulders and offer him the perfect s’more, reaching for your own and sinking your teeth into the melty goodness. You were right, it was perfect. Probably the best you’d ever made. Screw him for saying you were going to burn it. 

You turn to look at him, ready to see his reaction to the perfectly made treat. He bites into it, staring at the fire as he chews, swallowing down his first bite before he turns to you. 

“You know, I kind of hate these,” he smirks. 

“What?” you ask, taking another bite. 

“I never have liked them. My whole life, really.”

“Then why– Why are you eating it? You didn’t have to eat it,” you say, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“I dunno. I want to. I guess ‘cause you made it for me.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach, watching him intentionally take another bite as he settles back in his camp chair. There is a new tension floating in the air now, it's less uncomfortable and more heavy with things unsaid. 

He turns to look at you again, his face glowing in the orange fire light, “It actually isn’t terrible. I will admit.”

“So what you’re saying is that you love my cooking?” you tease.

He laughs, as he swallows his last bite, “Well, I didn’t say that. The fact that you call this cooking is questionable.” His tone is teasing, and you watch as he licks a dribble of chocolate from his thumb. It causes more of a reaction within you than you ever anticipated, and again you thank the wind for causing the goosebumps. 

“I think I have some paper towels  in the car, I’ll be right back.” he says, standing and walking over to his car. You can hear him digging around in his trunk as you stare off at the trees in the distance, trying to make any sense of the feelings rushing through your body right now. Why is he sort of sweet? Why is he sort of really sexy when he’s not being an asshole?

A flash in the trees catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts and raising your blood pressure. You stare intently, watching for it again, hearing Jake approaching from your left. You see the flash again, accompanied by two others, and a smile crosses your face. 

Jake steps up behind you, tossing a thick flannel in your lap as he takes his spot next to you, offering you a handful of wet wipes to clean your sticky fingers. You glance down at the shirt laying across your legs and turn to him in surprise.

“Noticed you were cold, that's all.”

You clean your hands the best you can before sliding the thick flannel shirt over your arms, letting the warmth and the smell envelop your senses. This was not helping with the thoughts you were having a few minutes ago. You turn your sights back to the trees, watching the little orbs buzz around overhead.

“Fireflies…” you whisper, watching a few zaps of yellow buzz around in the old Oak trees.

He hums as he sees them light up, “They are in all of the trees out here. One of my favorite things,” he admits.

“Jake?”

He turns to look at you, nodding for you to continue. 

“Why do you come out here alone all the time?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

His expression darkens slightly as he hears the question, and he is quiet for a moment before answering. “It’s just peaceful I guess,” He shrugs and looks out into the darkness of the trees instead of you. “Not everyone is cut out to be around people all the time.”

“You don’t ever get lonely?”

A beat of silence passes and he glances back at you. This time, his usual smirk has disappeared and is replaced by a more serious look. He doesn’t answer the question, but there is a look in his eyes that makes you think maybe he is more lonely than he wants to let on.

“I’m comfortable with my own company,” he says quietly. The fire is still smoldering in front of the two of you, the flames gone now, leaving a pile of glowing embers snapping and popping as they work to extinguish themselves. 

You pull the sleeves of his flannel over your hands, catching his attention and pulling a tiny smirk to the corners of his lips. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to focus on the fireflies again. It feels nice sitting with him like this. Just talking, no witty remarks or snappy comebacks. Just two people, talking. 

“Don’t you ever wish you had someone to share this with, though? Your spot?” you ask, giving him a playful grin.

He watches you for a moment, considering the question. There is a part of him that wants to be defensive and cold, shutting you out and telling you he doesn’t want that. But the look in your eyes and the softness of your tone tells him he can’t lie to you about this. He breaks eye contact momentarily, his gaze falling downward to his hands in his lap.

“Sometimes…” he mumbles under his breath. 

You aren’t sure why, but that goes straight to your heart. Sure he said he was fine earlier, but now you’re starting to see that maybe that isn’t completely true. It’s quiet for a moment, and you spend each second gathering up the courage to continue the conversation.

He glances at you again, this time having a look on his face that says he wishes he hadn’t confessed that to you. He suddenly becomes much more uncomfortable, trying to cover it up by acting nonchalant, adjusting his position in his chair and fidgeting with the fire. He clears his throat and looks to you again, “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

It catches you off guard. Him not only abruptly ending the conversation, but the rest of the evening. You know he is right, you probably should go to sleep, but part of you feels like the conversation is unfinished, and you think he knows that, too. 

“Oh, um, okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.” you say, standing from your chair with a stretch. You can feel his eyes on you, burning holes into your skin. “Is the fire going to be okay?”

He laughs a little, nodding his head, “Yeah, yeah. Just embers now. It will smolder out in an hour or two,” he says. 

You nod your head and pull your flannel covered arms across your chest tightly. You start to make your way over to your tent, your mind flooded with the vision of him just moments ago, soft and glowing in the firelight. You look back at him, still standing at the fire, watching you walk to your tent. He nods with a smirk and starts walking toward his own tent. Before going in, he looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Night.”

“Night, Jake,” you answer, reaching for the zipper. He nods and watches as you step inside, waiting until you’re safely inside before he lets out a deep sigh.

He can’t quite put his finger on why he suddenly feels so off-kilter. You’ve shaken him in a way no other has been able to. There was something about that conversation earlier, you asking what he wanted. How he was doing.  How he feels. The way your features softened as you listened to him and made him want to tell you the truth. He didn’t like how it made him feel, like every falsity he had built up about you in his mind was exactly that. He had spent so long pushing you away and talking you down to himself that now, here, where he can’t escape you, he is faced with the fact that you’re exactly the girl he thought you were, and everything he has always known deep down is true.. 

Inside your tent, you rummage around in your duffle bag looking for something to sleep in. As you pull an old t-shirt from the bag you pull his flannel from your body, setting it aside while you change. You don’t know why, but you find yourself reaching for it again and layering it over your shirt. You pull it to your nose to breathe it in now that you’re alone in the confines of your tent. It smells of smoke and tobacco, a sweet earthy undertone pulling you into its spell as your eyes flutter closed.

You can hear him zipping his tent, the faint glow of his lantern casting a shadow of his figure against the tent fabric. You hear the buckle of his belt as he pulls it from the loops on his jeans, and you do your best to look away. But with the smell of his cologne invading your senses, you claim temporary insanity and watch as his shadow pulls his shirt over his head and slides out of his jeans. You swallow heavily as you watch his shadow settle down into his sleeping bag and turn off the lantern.

You do the same, turning off your headlamp and getting inside your sleeping bag, doing your best to get comfortable. Even though the air is warm, the ground is cold and you shiver slightly.  It’s difficult to get comfortable in the new environment and you find yourself rolling over and shifting around a lot, almost matching the state of your brain. Eventually, the sound of the cicadas lure you to sleep, and as your eyes shut it's a soft, fireside Jake that is on your mind. 

—

The birds chirping in the tree above you wakes you. Your eyes crack open and you immediately notice the cool chill in the air. You sit up and yawn, stretching out your limbs and buttoning the buttons on the flannel for a little extra warmth. As you step outside of your tent a cool fog envelops you, causing you to shiver. You see a small fire has been built in the fire pit already, so you gather that Jake is already awake.

You make your way to your camp chair, noticing it has been wiped of the dew already, and is ready for you to occupy it. Your eyes search the foggy landscape for any sight of him, finding him standing at the tailgate of his Jeep fiddling with something. He catches sight of you, and nods, motioning that he will be over soon. 

Minutes later he is approaching with two camp mugs filled with what you can only assume is coffee. The steam is swirling from the tops of the mugs blending in with the fog surrounding you. 

“Morning,” he says, offering you the blue speckled mug. 

“Morning,” you smile, accepting it from his hand. “You have all the accessories, don’t you?”

He smiles, and nods gently, “I’m very serious when I commit to things.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“It is.” His gaze travels over you for a moment. He can’t help but appreciate just how good you look in the morning. The messy hair and the sleepy expression, combined with his flannel, you’re practically driving him insane.

“Do you think we will be able to see the sunrise through the fog?” you ask, sipping at the black coffee.

He squints thoughtfully out into the fog, taking in the thickness of it. He can’t see anything through the haze and honestly doubts you will be able to see much of anything.

“Hard to say,” he shrugs. “Depends on how long it hangs on.”

You nod in understanding, returning to the quiet morning, listening to the chirping of the birds in the distance. “You know it is really beautiful out here, I see why you come out here.”

He smiles a little, appreciating your change of attitude from last night.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a hint of a smirk. He glances back out into the fog where everything is hazy and unclear. “It’s nice and quiet here. No one around for miles, other than us of course. I like that best of all.”

“You know, I might even come back here one day,” you smile, feeling your chest grow warm at his last words. 

He suddenly looks surprised that you’re considering returning. He usually had a comeback for anything you said, but for this, he was quiet for a moment, considering your words.

He glances around at the surrounding area, the trees and shrubs all covered in the dense fog. He feels almost defensive about you seeing this place as beautiful. It was his place, his special place, and he wasn’t sure why he felt so weird that you were appreciating it. He falls silent for a moment as he watches you enjoy the surroundings, sipping the coffee he made for you as you sit in his flannel. The peaceful look on your face as you look out into the fog causes his chest to feel warm. He would never admit it, but he wants to bring you back here as often as you want to come.

He clears his throat and looks back at you. “Maybe we can take a walk before it clears up.”

You can feel the blush creeping up your chest, your cheeks burning at the thought that he might actually want to spend the day with you. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. Anything cool to see out here?”

He takes a moment to think, rubbing his fingers against his lips, “There’s a pretty decent hike to a creek not too far, we could go that way. Only if you’re not scared of a little wilderness along the way,” he smirked.

“I’m not scared,” you answer, raising a brow in challenge. 

“You bring a bathing suit?” he asks, tipping back the last of his coffee.

“Of course,” you laugh. 

“Good, I’ll meet you back out here in say, fifteen?” he says, standing from his chair.

You nod and both make your way back to your tents, changing into your bikini that you fully did not prepare to wear in front of a man, let alone Jake. You pull a pair of denim shorts and a cut off tee over top, grabbing your hiking boots and your backpack as you make your way back out to the camp chairs. 

Jake is still in his tent, so you use the time to lace up your boots and pack a few snacks into your bag. It’s not long before Jake is stepping out, in a pair of red swim trunks and a black button down, barely hanging on to his tan frame. It seems a strange ensemble for hiking, but he is unlike any other man you knew, and it kind of just fit.

He joins you at the chairs, putting on his own hiking boots. You feel his hand reach over to check the tautness of your shoestrings, grabbing your attention. 

He looks up at you from his bent over position, “Just making sure they are tight enough, don’t need you getting blisters before we even make it to the trail head,” he smiles. 

With your bag packed and your sunglasses perched on your nose, the two of you set off into the treeline, leaving your camp behind in search of adventure. You head down the winding trail that is lined with overgrowth on either side. You can tell that not many people walk this path, and you wonder how Jake even found it in the first place. The thick brush and branches scratch at your legs as you trudge on, but you welcome it. This is what you wanted, after all.

He walks just a step behind you, watching your feet as you walk along the trail. He can’t help but notice how your legs look in your denim shorts, and he does his best not to stare. Not that you would notice. 

You turn around to look at him, noticing him a few strides behind you, “You gonna keep up with me Kiszka?”

He scoffs playfully, a bit miffed at that comment, “I’ve walked this trail a hundred times, pretty sure I can handle it.”

He takes a few quick steps to catch up to you, walking next to you now rather than a few steps behind. His shoulder brushes against yours as he walks, catching you both by surprise. 

“Why am I leading the way anyway if you know where we are going?” you tease. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “You’re not ‘leading the way’ sweetheart, I’m guiding you.”

You huff in annoyance, “Guiding me? I’m not a dog…”

He smirked, thinking about how you definitely weren’t as obedient as a dog. You were much harder to control and a hell of a lot more stubborn.

He suddenly snickered and said, “Never said you were, I just don’t trust you not to wander off.”

“And go where? You’re all I’ve got out here!” you giggle, the words leaving your lips before you consider the weight of them. 

He snickered again with amusement, though his heart skipped a beat when you said that. You were all he had as well. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his swim trunks as he walked next to you, avoiding any more of the shrubs that were trying to grab onto him.

“There’s plenty of places to get lost around here if you wander off the trail. That’s why I’m making sure you don’t drift away too far.”

“Why would I want to?” you ask, a hint of flirtation evident in your tone.

He picks up on your flirty tone, letting a smirk pull across his lips. He glances over at you with a look in his eye as he registers what you meant by that comment.

“If I didn't know any better I would say you're enjoying spending time with me, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you quip. 

He snickers and glances over at you again, seeing that look on your face he's all too familiar with. “I don’t have to flatter myself, sweetheart. You’re the one getting all flirty.” He grins.

“Flirty? I’m not being flirty,” you lie.

He snickers again, seeing through your lie immediately. “You have a terrible poker face,” he says. He walks closer to you as he speaks, his leg brushing yours as you walk. 

You feel a chill run down your spine at the contact and you wonder if he feels it too. You decide to change the subject, worried that this conversation may have you backed into a corner. 

“Tell me how you learned to play guitar so well,” you ask, hoping he will be willing to accept your topic change. 

He lifts his gaze to the trees as he contemplates your question. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but he still remembers those nights all too well.

“Practice, mostly. Spent hours and hours alone in my bedroom just practicing until my arms were sore and my hands locked up. But how do you know that I play well? You watch me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, letting your hands push away a few branches, “I mean, you have to play pretty well if you're selling out arenas…”

He lets out a scoff and a smirk. He was used to people complimenting his skill but for some reason, hearing you do it makes him feel a little flustered.

“I suppose so, but you didn't answer my question,” He chuckles.

“What, have I watched you play? Of course I have. I've been to a few shows with Clara.”

He seems surprised by your confession. In that moment, he begins to wonder how many times your eyes have sought him out through the lights and over the crowd.

He clears his throat and says, “Clara dragged you out to them?”

“No, I went willingly,” you admit. 

There’s a moment of silence as he processes what you just admitted. For some reason, the thought of you going to one of his shows because you wanted to go was making his heart pound a little harder in his chest.

He looks at you with a smirk to mask how thrown off he was by that.  “How come I never saw you backstage?”

You look at him with a confused look, "Did you ever look?"

Something about that question stung. The way you said the words so casually felt like a knife through his chest. He shakes his head as he responds, “No. No, you weren't there. I would remember.”

“You're right. I never went back with Clara after the shows. Didn't want to put myself in that position. I mean, that's your space, ya know? And you and I can barely be in the same room together. We haven't even had a civil conversation until, well, right now.”

He stays silent for a moment, processing your confession. After a minute he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I never wanted it to be like that sweetheart.”

You huff a laugh, “Your actions over the last, oh I don’t know, two years have shown otherwise.”

He grimaces when you say that, knowing that you’re right. He knows he has been a jackass to you, but for some reason hearing you confront him about it was causing a strong pang of guilt to flare up deep within his chest. He tries to shrug it off and maintain his cool, but even he can’t deny that your words were hitting him right where it hurt. 

The two of you walk for a few moments in silence, the only sound being the crunch of branches and twigs under your feet. He glances over at you, watching the way your face looked as you focused on where you stepped along the path, and he suddenly blurts out a question.

“Why is it so easy for you to make me feel guilty?”

What?

You snap your head to look at him, “I don’t know, you tell me?”

He lets out a scoff and shakes his head, pushing a limb out of the way to let you pass. “You’ve just got this way of bringing out sides of me that I don’t understand,” he grumbles.

“What do you mean?” you ask, feeling a wave of nerves wash over you. 

He falls silent as he considers how to explain what he means. It’s a hard thing to describe. It’s more than just the way you make him feel things he doesn’t usually feel around other people. It’s more than just the way you look at him, or talk to him, that makes his heart beat harder. It’s more and he knows it.

“It’s nothing, nevermind,” he pauses, “We’re here.”

You decide to let it slide, not wanting to push him into a bad mood. The two of you walk up to the edge of the rocky creek, taking in the sights. There’s a small waterfall trickling over the rocks to your right, leading out into a swimming spot and you almost moan at how appealing a dip sounds after that hike.

Jake stands just beside you, his gaze skimming over the water. He takes in the rushing sound of the creek as it flows past the large rocks and branches. He’s secretly looking at you out of the corner of his eye, watching you stare out at the creek just like he did the first time he saw it. He takes a moment to just watch you. The way your hair looks in the sunlight is catching his eye, the way your lashes flutter as you blink, the look on your face that’s soft and calm. Watching you out here in this setting is making all sorts of different emotions swirl around inside him, but he just can’t bring himself to name any of them.

“This was worth the hike,” you say, turning to meet his gaze. 

He keeps his eyes on you as you admire the creek. The way the sunlight dances against your skin makes you look as if you’re glowing. He can’t pull his eyes away from how goddamn good you look and how peaceful you seem despite everything that had happened between you two.

“Yeah. I suppose it was worth it, wasn’t it?” He agrees reluctantly.

You pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bikini top and shorts. You know you want to jump in, but you will wait for him to go first. 

He’s completely caught off guard by your actions, his eyes growing wide. His gaze instantly travels down to take in your bare torso, raking over your skin and lingering for just a beat too long. He immediately clears his throat and looks away, shifting uncomfortably as he feels an unfamiliar pang of heated desire in his stomach.

“You ready to swim?” he asks. You unlace your boots and leave them on the embankment, turning to look at him as he does the same. 

“Very,” you say, nodding towards the water.

He takes a moment to compose himself and avoid staring at you while you are basically half-naked. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing his tanned chest and arms, and sets it down beside yours on the bank of the creek.

He dips a toe into the water cautiously to test the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but it feels refreshing on his skin after all the walking you had done to get here.

“Good, let me show you why we really came here,” he says, motioning for you to follow him up a footpath. You quickly kick off your shorts and follow after him, curious as to where he is taking you. As you reach the end of the small dirt path your eyes land on the old rope hanging from the branch of an Oak tree.

“No, no way,” you stammer. 

A mischievous smirk quirks up on his face as you look at the rope. He can tell that you’re nervous just by the look in your eyes. But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it cute.

“Oh come on, what happened to ‘I’m not scared’?” he teases. 

“I’m not! But this is different!” you whine. 

He walks up to the rope, grabbing a hold of it and giving it a few solid pulls to test how sturdy it is. He glances over his shoulder at you to watch your face, seeing the anxiety there in your expression.

He smirks and motions towards the creek below him, “See that spot down there? It’s perfect for jumping. It’s safe. I’ve done it a hundred times. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you say, biting at your bottom lip. 

He grins as he watches you bite your lip. Seeing you looking so nervous and cute was making his heart twist. He steps closer to you, still holding the rope in his hands. He smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll go first, okay?”

You nod and watch as he wraps his hands around the brown rope. He turns and looks back at you with an excited expression, “I’ll see you down there?”

“Okay,” you murmur, watching as he gets a running start and flies through the air before dropping down into the creek with a splash. You run to peer over the edge, watching him come up from the water with a shake of his hair. He smiles and waves you down, practically begging you to join him. 

“Come on, you can do it! I–I’ll catch you! Promise!” he shouts, “Jump, sweetheart!”

You let out a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you wait for the rope to stop swinging so you can grab it. As you reach for it you hear him cheering, still floating in the water where he landed. 

“Jump!” he yells, smiling up at you as he treads in the water. He grins as he watches you dangle from the rope, nervous to let go and jump into the water. “You’re gonna be fine! Just let go and I’ll catch you. I promise,” he yells.

With that you run, jumping off of the rock with the rope clutched tightly in your fists. Time almost seems to slow down when you jump, your body floating through the air and for a moment, it feels exhilarating.

“Let go, now!” he shouts, and so you do.

Jake waits with his arms open wide, watching as you fall down towards him from above. He can see the mixture of fear and courage on your face as you plummet towards him. He braces himself as you fall into his arms, catching you as best he can in the deep water. He pulls you close to him, his hands gripping your bare waist as your bodies press together. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he holds you, your chest against his and your faces just inches apart. He can feel your heart pounding as he looks into your eyes.

The moment you’re in his arms, something within him snaps. All of a sudden, everything feels heightened. The feel of your body against his, the way you’re looking at him, the sound of your breathing as it slightly catches in your chest. The air between you seems almost electrified and he can feel the tension brewing in his gut.

“You caught me,” you breathe, recognizing just how close the two of you are. 

He can’t help but smirk and let out a low chuckle, still holding you against him. “I told you I would.”

You can feel your body pressed against his, the wet fabric of your bikini sticking to your skin. It’s making your brain go fuzzy and your skin tingle in a way you can’t explain.

“Thank you,” you whisper, neither of you making a move to let go of each other. 

He swallows, the tension between you feeling almost palpable. His pulse is pumping, and his breath catches in his throat as he holds onto you. He wants so badly to press you against him further and hold you tighter. Closer.

He couldn’t help glancing down at your lips, his gaze drifting down from your eyes to linger there just for a moment. You let your tongue dart out over your lips, swiping away the water dripping over them. 

He lets out a low, deep breath as he watches you. That small action has his heart racing even more, and every instinct inside him telling him to bring you closer. To claim your lips with his and taste you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he whispers in a hoarse voice.

“Dangerous for who?” you question, biting on your lip.

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly. He pulls you in closer, and you know he can feel your nipples hard and wet against his chest. Your bodies are pressed flat against one another, the cool water from the creek dripping down from your skin and onto his. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and his pulse thrumming in his veins. 

He leans his head down so that his lips are mere millimeters away from yours and whispers huskily, “You. For you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly he releases his grip on you, swimming on his back further down the creek. Your heart is still racing in your chest from the contact. You felt something just now, and you know he did too. You feel a sick feeling in your chest at the loss of his touch. You tread water for a moment as you watch him swim away, feeling the coolness of the water against your skin and the sun beating down above you. Your mind is racing and you’re trying to process all of the different emotions and sensations that he stirred up within you just now.

Jake turns, breaking the surface to look back at you. “You coming?” he calls out to you with a smirk.

You nod, starting to swim towards him, taking notice of the smile on his face and the small dimple in his cheek. For some reason you feel the need to be close to him, you want his hands on you again, and you think maybe he does too.

He watches as you swim towards him, your body moving gracefully through the water. He can feel his heart rate increasing as he watches you approach, and he has a sudden urge to reach out and pull you against him. But instead, he composes himself and continues to tread water as you swim up to him.

He grins as you get to him, his gaze drifting over your body. “Took you long enough,” he teases.

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” you taunt, treading water next to him.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

You shrug your shoulders in the water, and with that he spins around and starts swimming further down the creek, moving towards a more secluded area. He glances over his shoulder at you as he swims, making sure you’re following him. He swims over towards the bank, pulling himself up on a collection of flat rocks. It’s a nice shady spot, and you can tell the rocks will be warm to the touch. 

He looks back at you, extending his hand to help pull you from the water. You take it, letting him pull your wet body up onto the rocks with him. He keeps hold of your hand for just a moment longer than necessary, hoping you didn’t notice, but of course you do. 

“This,” he pauses, “Is my favorite place.” He grins and motions for you to sit down, taking a seat himself. Once you’re settled, he looks out at the creek that flows past you. 

“I found it a long time ago. No one’s ever here. It’s like a little hidden treasure, I don’t even know if anyone else knows it’s here,” he says with a smile. “Actually, you’re the only person I’ve ever shown this to.”

“What? No one else?” You question. 

He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “No one. It’s my little secret hideout.” He looks over at you and grins, his eyes taking in your figure sitting next to him. “I guess now it’s our secret hideout.”

“Oh, ours now, huh?” you tease, turning to look at him as the sun hits his cheeks. 

He laughs, his eyes still wandering over you, taking in the way the water is dripping down your sun kissed skin.

He takes a deep breath and nods, “Yeah, ours. No getting out of it now,” he says with a smirk.

You decide to push the envelope a little, swallowing nervously as you speak, “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he hears your flirty tone. He shifts his body towards you, his gaze drifting over your face and then down towards your chest and legs, still damp from the water.

He raises an eyebrow at you and responds in a low voice, “Good. I don’t think I’d let you, anyway.”

You decide to let the conversation end there, your pulse pounding as you look at him, the droplets of water drying on his chest. He’s hot, and you know that he knows it. The smirk on his lips hasn’t left since you made your way to the rocks and you can feel the tension between the two of you growing by the second. 

He swallows, feeling his heart begin to beat quicker as he looks at you. He wants so badly to reach out and touch you, but he holds back, knowing that doing so would probably drive him over the edge. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He’s not used to feeling this out of control when he’s with a woman. Normally he’s the one in charge, the one in control. But there’s something about you that makes him feel like he’s losing his grip, like he’s teetering on the edge of something new and different, and he can’t help but be drawn to it.

He shifts his body closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face as he speaks. “You want to swim some more or do you want to head back?”

“What do you want to do?” you ask, truly feeling like anything would be fun as long as it was him you were doing it with. 

He grins at you, the sparkle in his eye betraying his true desire. He wants to touch you, to pull you against him and feel your body pressed against his. But instead of saying that, he shrugs, “I’m good with whatever you want. Can’t promise we won’t find ourselves in the water again, though.”

With that you push up off the rocks and dive back into the creek, pushing the hair from your face as you resurface from the water. You splash the water up at him, soaking him and causing him to jump. 

“Oi!” he shouts, a bit of an accent peeking out from somewhere. 

“What’s wrong Kiszka? Can’t handle a little innocent splashing?” you taunt, trying to lure him into the water. What you don’t expect is for him to jump to his feet with a vengeful look in his eye. 

“Oh you just wait, sweetheart,” he pauses, charging towards you, “We will see how innocent–” 

You cut him off with another playful splash, drenching him again.  

He wipes the water from his face, shaking his head as if you have pushed him too far, “Mmhm, okay, now you’ve done it.” 

He jumps into the water next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he drags you beneath the surface. He pulls you down with him, holding you tight around the waist as you sink beneath the surface. The feeling of your body against his is intoxicating, and he revels in the sensation for a moment before popping back up and pulling you with him.

As you break the surface, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as you gasp for air. He grins, his smirk returning as he looks down at you. “Payback’s a hell of a thing, sweetheart.”

You push playfully at his shoulders, feeling his hands still holding your waist. A wicked grin is on his lips, and you're certain you’ve never seen someone so beautiful. He laughs as you push at him, not loosening his grip on your waist one bit. He can feel the way your body feels against his, soft and warm in stark contrast to the coolness of the water.

“Watch yourself, dove,” he warns, his smirk growing wider as he looks down at you. “You’re playing with fire.”

“How do we keep finding ourselves here,” you breathe. 

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he holds you in his arms. You feels the tension between you building, the heat of your bodies close together making your heart race in your chest.

He takes a deep breath, letting out a low chuckle as he replies, “I dunno, sweetheart, I sure don’t know.” His hand moves up to tuck a lock of your wet hair behind your ear. It feels like he wants to say more, but stops himself, settling for something else instead. “You want to head back?”

You feel a pang shoot through your chest, you don’t want to leave this spot, not now, not ever. “Sure,” you answer, and you wonder if he feels the same. 

He nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. He had hoped you would say you didn’t want to leave, that you wanted to stay here just as much as he did. But he doesn’t argue with you, and instead just starts swimming towards the bank. 

“C’mon, it’s starting to get dark anyway, we should get back.” he says, letting you follow behind him. 

You find your belongings right where you left them, but the thought of putting clothes over your wet bikini has you cringing. Instead, you shove them into your backpack, holding Jake’s shirt up, silently asking him if he wants it. He shakes his head as he ties his boots, his hair still dripping down his back. You put on your own boots and sling the backpack over your shoulders, taking one last look at the creek you’d never forget. 

“You ready?” he asks, starting down the path. You nod and follow behind him, the trail lit by the perfect afternoon sun. Your hair is drying in waves around your face, much the same as his. 

He leads the way down the trail, his boots crunching on the ground below. His mind is wandering as he walks, stuck between the memory of holding you in the water just moments ago and the thought of possibly never doing it again. He sneaks glances at you out of the corner of his eye, admiring the way the sunlight is casting warm rays over your hair and face.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Jake,” you say, giving him a soft smile.

He turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips. He’s a little surprised at your sudden show of gratitude.

He shrugs a little, “You’re welcome. I come here whenever I need a break from things. It’s nice to have somewhere peaceful to escape to…” He trails off and looks away for a moment before continuing. “And nice to have someone to share it with.”

The two of you walk in content silence for most of the trail, the sun starting to dip lower and lower into the sky as the minutes pass. You notice a few clouds overhead, and thank them for a reprieve from the sun. You can feel yourself growing more and more tired with every step and before you know it you’re falling behind Jake. 

It’s as if he can hear your footsteps slowing behind him, and he stops walking, turning to look back at you. You’re several feet behind him now, your steps much more weary than they were earlier.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you. “You good, pretty girl?”

Your heart hammers in your chest at the pet name, but the fatigue is setting in so quickly you pay it no mind. “I don't know, I think so. I am just so exhausted suddenly.”

He sees the fatigue etched on your face, the way your steps are slowing down. He takes a step back towards you, concern evident in his eyes.

“You want to stop for a minute?” he asks, his voice softer than usual.

“How much farther is it? I can probably make it,” you ask. 

He takes a moment to think before responding, his eyes scanning over your face and your tired expression. He can tell you’re exhausted, but he also knows that you’re stubborn and determined to get back. “About another half mile, maybe a little less,” he replies. “You sure you can make it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, let’s just keep going,” you say, starting to walk again. It feels like you’re carrying a bag of bricks on your back, but you push through. 

So he silently falls into step beside you, watching like a hawk for any sign of your energy giving out on you. But that's when it hits him, "What if I carried you?"

“Carried me?” you ask.

He looks at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Yeah, carried you. I could give you a piggyback ride the rest of the way.”

“Jake, no…” you whine, deep down loving the idea. 

He laughs aloud at your protest, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, come on, sweetheart, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes. I bet your legs are going to give out on you any second now.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, feeling hesitant, but he is offering.

He grins, seeing the wheels turning in your head. “I'm sure. C’mere.” He motions for you to turn around, holding his arms open for you to climb onto his back.

You feel his arms wrap around your legs as you climb onto his back, feeling the warmth of his skin against your chest. You practically melt into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as your nose brushes against his hair, still wet from the creek.

He grunts a bit as you climb onto his back, the weight of you against him sending a wave of warmth through his body. He wraps his arms tightly around your legs, securely holding you in place, and is suddenly acutely aware of how close you are to each other. He can feel your breath on the back of his neck and the way your chest is pressed against his shoulders, the sensation making his heart beat a little faster than usual.

“Are you sure this is okay?" you ask, splaying your hand against his chest.

He takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his skin. He nods, his voice a little huskier than usual. “Yeah, it's fine. Don't you worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart.”

He adjusts his grip on you slightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

You walk like that for a little bit, your body quickly succumbing to the rhythmic bouncing from every step he takes. You find your eyes growing heavy, and your head starting to droop, and before you know it, your head is resting on his warm shoulder. 

He can't help but smile to himself as he realizes you've fallen asleep on his back. He adjusts his grip on you, trying to keep you as secure as possible as he continues walking down the trail, humming softly and feeling oddly content with the situation he has found himself in. 

It feels like seconds have passed before he gently taps your leg, waking you up as he speaks. “Hey, sleepyhead. We made it.”

He waits for you to regain your bearings and loosen your grip on him before carefully lowering you down from his back, his hands lingering at your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

“That felt like two minutes, tops,” you giggle.

He laughs, a soft chuckle that makes his chest vibrate. “Yeah, you passed out pretty fast there,” he pauses, “You hungry? I’m starving.”

“Starving,” you answer, maybe a little too quickly. 

He laughs again, the sound still as charming as usual. “Yeah, figured as much. Let's get something going.” 

He makes his way to the cooler, opening it up and pulling a pack of hotdogs from inside, “This looks like it,” he smiles, “Let me get the fire going and we will be cooking in no time.”

“Thanks for carrying me, Jake. Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you say, lowering your voice a little. 

He grins as he sets the hot dogs down, looking up at you. “No problem. And no need to apologize for dozing off.” He glances up as he strikes a match, igniting the kindling. “It was kind of...cute.”

Cute? Oh.

A strong gust of wind blows through the campsite, taking both of you by surprise, tossing a camp chair to its side. 

“Damn,” he says, moving to pick up the chair. He looks up to the sky, the clouds growing heavy and darkening. “We may be in for a bit of rain.”

“Tents are waterproof, right?” you ask nervously.

He chuckles at your question, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, tents are waterproof.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whine. 

He grins, enjoying your playful pout. “I can't help it, you make it too easy.”

He looks at you again, the fire casting a warm glow over his features. “How about you go change into some dry clothes, these hotdogs will be done soon.”

You nod and head into your tent, stripping out of your bathing suit and pulling a t-shirt over your sun warmed skin. You add a pair of leggings and his flannel before stepping back out and seeing him assemble the hotdogs. Your stomach is growling, and you quickly realize you hadn’t eaten all day. 

He looks up as you come out of your tent, his eyes lingering on the way his flannel covers your form. He can feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you in his shirt, but quickly composes himself.

He grins as he sees your expression, your hunger evident. “Ready?”

You nod as he hands you a paper plate, taking the seat next to you at the fire. The air is cooler than it was last night, and the humidity is growing by the second. Both of you quickly eat, very few words shared between the two of you. 

You both toss the paper plates into the fire, making quick work of cleaning up. He disappears into his tent for a few minutes, emerging in warmer clothes. His cheeks have a pink glow from the sun today, and you can’t help but think it makes him all the more pretty in the fire light.

“So what do you think, you gonna make us s’mores again tonight?” he asks, crossing his feet on the ledge of the fire pit.

You turn to look at him, “What? I thought you didn’t like them?”

He laughs softly, turning to look at you, “I like them when you make them,” he says, his confession warming your chest.

“Are you getting soft on me, Kiszka?” you tease, standing up to grab the ingredients from the cooler.

“Me? Soft?” he scoffs, pretending to be offended. “Never in a million years, sweetheart.”

He grins, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk, betraying his feigned annoyance. He grabs the two sticks from last night, holding them out to you as you place the marshmallows on the ends. This time you give him his own stick to hold, both of you twirling the sugary puffs in the flames. 

He carefully twirls his own marshmallow in the flames, occasionally stealing glances at you as you do the same. The air is quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of crickets, a rumble sounds in the distance but you both ignore it.

As the marshmallows puff up, you pull them from the fire, placing them gently on the graham cracker and chocolate. They melt perfectly and again, you offer him his first. He takes it from your hand, biting into it quickly, as you do the same. 

“Truly, I think it’s something about you,” he admits, taking another bite. “They just taste better when you do it.”

“It’s all in your head,” you laugh, licking marshmallows from your finger. His eyes watch as your tongue swipes over the digits, his throat bobbing as he swallows back his nerves. 

A yawn falls from your lips as he looks at you, the earlier exhaustion creeping up on you again. 

“You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I am, it just hit me out of nowhere again,” you admit. 

He chuckles softly, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Yeah, I can tell. You’ve been fighting it for the past twenty minutes.” He looks at you intently, studying your expression in the firelight. “Wanna call it a night?”

“What about you? I don't wanna leave you out here all by yourself?”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I can handle myself.” He looks at you, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. “Besides, I don't mind being out here alone. It’s peaceful this time of night.”

“You sure?” you ask, a hint of guilt in your tone. 

He grins, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Yeah, I'm sure. I'll just hang out until the fire smolders and enjoy the quiet out here before I head in.”

He can see the tiredness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to tuck you into the tent and hold you against him all night. But he keeps that last thought to himself. 

“Okay, well, thanks again for today. For showing me your secret place. I had a lot of fun with you," you say, clutching the cuffs of his flannel in your fists.

His heart skips a beat at your words, the sincerity in your tone making his chest ache. He looks at you, his gaze softening as he takes you in. “Don’t mention it, dove. I had a lot of fun too.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod with a bashful smile, “Goodnight, Jake.”

He smiles at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he replies. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He watches as you disappear into your tent, his eyes fixated on the flaps even after you’ve gone inside. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looks back to the fire.

He sits there for a while longer, his thoughts consumed by images of you. He can practically still feel the way your skin felt against his, the weight of you on his back as he carried you down the trail. He can still picture the way you looked in his flannel, your eyes tired but still filled with a spark that sent shockwaves through his body. He wanted you, and he always had.

Despite his best efforts he found the feelings that he pushed down for so long had resurfaced with a vengeance, briefly making him question whether they were ever really gone at all. He’d  made up a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t want you, letting it show in his harsh words and hostile demeanor, all the while letting you root your way deeper and deeper into his heart with every caught smile and laugh. He’d done such a good job pushing you away that he started to believe the lies he was telling himself over the last two years. Although, that all came to a screeching halt the minute he decided to let you in last night. The minute you showed him that you wanted to know him beyond surface level, and the minute he realized you were everything he told himself you weren’t.

Inside your tent you are snuggling down into your sleeping bag, replaying the day over and over. The way his hands felt on you, the smile you drew out of him, all of it. You wanted to run back out there and beg him to join you in here, but you know you can't. 

You can hear the fire still crackling, and the sway of the trees in the wind. Thunder is rumbling in the distance, growing closer and closer. You zip the window flaps on your tent for good measure, but that's when you hear it. The sound of a guitar, softly strumming in the breeze. You can tell he is trying to play quietly, but part of you wishes it was just a little louder. 

You don’t recognize the song, but it's soft and sweet and twists your heart in two. You want to know the name. Did he write it? Is it even a real song yet? Instead you lay there, letting the music his hands are producing play you to sleep, wishing every night could be like tonight.

—

A crash of lightning pulls you from your sleep, the sound of the nylon ripping overhead, pulling a scream from your chest. Rain starts to pour into your tent, drenching you and all of your belongings before you even have time to process what's happening. You pull yourself out of your soaking wet tent to see the storm raging around you. The trees whipping wildly through the wind, and the rain falling so hard you can barely see. You turn to look at your tent finding a tree branch laying across the fiberglass poles, effectively ripping the top of your tent. 

“Shit!” you scream, trying to pull your soaked belongings from inside. Jake must have heard the commotion, pulling on his boots as he rushes over towards you.

“What’s going on? What happened?” he shouts, dripping wet from the pouring rain. His eyes are panicked as they search yours for an answer. 

“The tree! A branch fell and ripped my tent, everything is wet! I–”

He grabs your arms, pulling you a little closer to him, “Are you okay?” he asks, not caring about the tent. You came first. 

“Yes, yes! I’m fine, I just– my tent!” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. 

He curses under his breath, the sight of your slashed tent and your wet clothes fueling the anger inside of him. "Damn it," he shouts, trying to keep his cool as he surveys the damage. “Okay, look, just, go get in my tent. I’ll be there in a second.”

You nod graciously and head over to his tent, unzipping the flap and stepping inside. It’s much larger than yours and is filled with real camping equipment. It’s warm, and is lit with a lantern. You see his things laying neatly by his bag, and you do your best not to drip water onto everything. 

Jake watches as you head towards his tent, disappearing inside and zipping the flap behind you. He lets out a breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair before he turns back to your tent. He grabs the offending branch, tossing it aside before he starts to gather your items from inside. He carefully picks up your belongings, dashing over to his car and tossing them in the backseat. His boots are caked with mud as he makes his way back to his tent, leaving his boots outside as he joins you inside. 

“I tried to salvage your stuff, but everything is soaked. I put it in my car to dry out but…” he pauses, wiping the rain off of him as is drips down his face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, realizing that both of you are wet and freezing now. He has the same realization as he crawls towards his bag.

He nods in response to your gratitude, his fingers digging through his belongings to find a dry shirt for you. He pulls out a plain t-shirt, the fabric soft and well-worn. He turns back to you, handing you the shirt as his gaze flits over your soaked form. 

“Here, put this on for now,” he says gruffly, trying to keep his train of thought focused on practicality and not how good you look wearing his clothes. “I just need to change into some dry clothes and then you can go back to sleep.”

“What?” you question, unsure of his logic. 

“I’ll change and then I’ll go sleep in my car, you can take the air mattress,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world that you’d get the better accommodations. 

“What? Jake, no. I’m not taking your tent and making you sleep in your car. No way.” you say, putting your foot down. “I’ll sleep in your car.”

He sits there, stunned at your words. He wasn't expecting resistance from you, expecting you to happily accept him taking the brunt of the damage.

“No, Y/N. Absolutely not. You’ll be much warmer here with the sleeping bag and the air mattress. You’re shivering, you’re not sleeping in the cold ass car,” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep in the car,” you argue. “We can just– both share the air mattress. I’m fine with it if you are.”

He looks at you incredulously, his brain short-circuiting at your suggestion. The thought of sharing that small space with you, of being that close to you in the dark, is both tantalizing and terrifying. He opens his mouth to argue again, but the words get stuck in his throat. He swallows hard, his eyes flicking over your figure again. He wants to protest, to say no and keep his distance, but the look in your eyes dares him to argue.

“Fine,” he relents, his voice gruff and reluctant. “But only if you're sure you're okay with it."

“I’m okay with it Jake,” your voice softer now.

He nods, his eyes searching your expression to be sure you mean it. You nod again and he understands. He digs into his bag again producing a pair of worn gray sweatpants, handing them to you with a gleam in his eye. 

You take the sweatpants from him, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. It's a brief contact, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. He turns to give you a bit of privacy, despite seeing you half naked already once today. You quickly strip out of your soaked clothes, shivering from the cold air on your bare skin. You pull on the sweatpants, the warm, soft fabric enveloping your legs. You pull the wet shirt from your body and toss it to the ground before putting on the t-shirt that smells exactly like him. 

“Okay, I'm good,” you say, your voice soft.

He turns around and his breath stutters at the sight of you in his clothes. The sweatpants are a little baggy on you, the legs pooling around your ankles. The t-shirt clings to your curves, the fabric stretched tight over your chest. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body reacting to the sight of you more than it should.

He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. “You look–” he starts to say, his voice cracking slightly.

“Warm?” you smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy. 

He manages to nod in response to your question, his voice gravelly when he speaks. “Yeah,” he says, his eyes flickering to your face for a moment before darting away again. “Warm."

You turn to offer him the same privacy, listening as you hear his wet clothes hit the ground. He is quick to change, pulling on a pair of boxer shorts and a black long sleeve t-shirt. 

“All good,” he says, moving closer to the air mattress. You try not to stare at him in his boxers, but it’s hard not to. 

He motions towards the air mattress, and you crawl towards it, positioning yourself on one side as he takes the other. You notice that you must be occupying the side he was previously on, seeing a book and a water bottle sitting next to your head. 

He crawls onto the air mattress beside you, the small space suddenly feeling much smaller with the two of you in it. He tries to keep some distance between you both, not wanting to get too close and make you uncomfortable.  The air in the tent is thick with tension, the heat of your bodies so close together in the small space. The rain continues to pour outside, falling harshly against the nylon of the tent.

He can hear your breathing, the sound of each intake of breath filling the silence between you. He's acutely aware of your presence beside him, your body just inches away from his, and he is doing everything in his power from pulling you into him.

“Were you reading?” you ask, trying to fill the silence. He looks surprised that you've spoken, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment. He'd been caught up in his thoughts, lost in the feeling of being so close to you in the small space.

He nods, gesturing towards the book next to your head. “Yeah, I was.” he says, his voice a little gruff. “It's a pretty good book.”

“What's it about?” you ask, rolling to face him.

He takes a moment to remember the premise of the book, his mind still a little clouded with the feeling of being so close to you.

“It's um, it’s a crime thriller,” he replies. “It's about a detective trying to solve a series of murders in a small town. It's pretty intense, actually.” 

You giggle, “I wouldn't have taken you for a thriller novel kind of guy.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what kind of guy did you think I would be?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“I don’t know. Maybe a biography guy? History maybe?”

He chuckles at your response, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Biographies and history, huh? I mean, I read those too,” he says with a smirk. “But I like a good thriller from time to time.”

He glances over at you, his eyes trailing over your features as you yawn. He reaches over and turns off the lantern, leaving the two of you in darkness with the sound of the rain. 

“You tired?” he asks, his voice a little softer now. 

“Yeah, a little, but that kind of woke me up. I can't lie,” you answer, shivering a little as you lay on the air mattress. Jake seems to notice and immediately sits up, unzipping his sleeping bag and tossing half of it onto your body. His movements are quick and practiced, his eyes flickering to your face to make sure you're covered up.

He lays back down, his body now closer to yours under the shared cover. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. The silence hangs in the air again, the sound of the rain outside the only noise breaking through the tension between you. He can hear your breathing beside him, your body so close to his under the covers. He's acutely aware of the feel of your body heat radiating against his skin, the proximity of your bodies igniting a spark inside of him.

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling of the tent, but they keep drifting back towards you, taking in the way your hair fans out around your face as you look at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. 

You slide your hand up to rest on his cheek, warm and stubbly, “Thank you for coming to save me,” you breathe.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your hand on his cheek, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. He leans into your palm, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the warmth of your touch making his skin tingle. He opens his eyes, looking over at you with a mixture of surprise and something else. Something...soft.

“I'll always come save you,” he says, his voice low and gentle.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, pink and full, before meeting his dark brown eyes again. “All this time I thought you hated me.”

He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on yours as he hears your words. He can feel the tension coiled tight in the space between you, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desire. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering over your face as if he's searching for something. 

Finally, he speaks. “I don't hate you,” he says, his voice low and soft. “I’ve never hated you, I always liked you. Too much, probably.”

“What?”

He takes a deep breath, the words spilling out of him before he can stop them.

“I never hated you, sweetheart,” he repeats, his voice softer this time. “I always liked you, maybe a little too much. I remember when Josh met Clara, he told me that you, specifically, were off limits. Of course at that point it was already too late. I swear it just made me want you more. I knew I couldn't go against him, though. I knew he had his reasons. I just...I didn’t know how to deal with it, being around you and not being able to have you, so I pushed you away. It was the only thing that worked.”

His eyes meet yours, his expression vulnerable and open. “It was easier to be cold to you than to be myself and fall for someone that I can't have.”

“Jake,” you breathe, sliding your thumb against his cheek. He closes his eyes at the sound of his name on your lips, feeling your thumb glide along his skin. It feels like electricity zipping through his body, igniting every nerve ending all at once. He turns his face towards your touch, his cheek pressing into your palm as he revels in the feeling.

“He didn’t even tell me that you were going to be on this trip. He knew I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were going to be here, too. He knew I wouldn’t subject myself to that. Honestly, I was doing okay controlling myself, until today.”

“Today, at the creek…” you continue. 

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locking with yours as he hears you mention it. The memory of that moment floods through his mind, the sight of your body in the water burned into his brain.

He swallows hard, his throat dry as he nods in response. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Today at the creek,” he repeats, his voice hoarse. 

You nod your head and bite your lip as your mind replays its own memories. 

He shifts his body subtly closer to you, the heat between you growing with each passing moment. He can feel the tension building to a fever pitch, the air thick with desire and need.

“I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart. I really did. I almost did. Touching you like that, fuck. You letting me carry you back. Just sitting by the fire with you. It’s the best day I have had in a long ass time. Didn’t want it to end, but I knew you were exhausted. I wanted to tell you tonight, but things just didn’t work out. I figured it was probably for the best,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your hand drops to his chest, the warmth of his skin evident through his t-shirt, “I wanted you to kiss me, Jake. I wanted your hands on me, everywhere. In fact, I never don’t want your hands on me,” you say, feeling his hand nervously slide up and over the curve of your waist. 

He listens to your words, disbelief and desire warring within him as he realizes you feel the same way he does. He swallows hard, his hand on your waist trembling slightly as he absorbs your words. He slides closer to you, his body now pressed snugly against yours under the covers. Your faces are so close that he can feel your breath on his cheek.

“Well fuck me, sweetheart,” he growls. His eyes rake over your features, taking in the way your pupils are dilating with desire, the flush on your cheeks and the way your breath hitches when he moves closer to you.

He’s never seen you look so beautiful, and the realization that he’s the cause of it makes his heart swell in his chest. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers, his voice barely louder than a breath. 

“Jake,” you beg. 

His heart clenches at the sound of you begging for him, the need in your voice nearly driving him mad with desire. He wants to hear you say his name again and again, to feel your body against his and your skin under his hands.

He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your neck as he speaks. “Say my name again, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“Kiss me, Jake,” you plead, unable to wait a second longer. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. At your words, he crashes his lips against yours in a desperate kiss, all of the tension and desire between you finally igniting in a blaze of passion.

His hands roam over your body, exploring all the curves he’s wanted to touch for so long. He kisses you deeply, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

He shifts his body over yours, pinning you to the air mattress as he continues to kiss you hungrily. His hands slide up your body, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head in place, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth.

He moans lowly, the sound muffled as his body presses flush against yours under the covers. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, the sensation driving him mad with desire. 

Your hands snake around his waist, sliding beneath his shirt, and pulling it up and over his head. He lets out a sharp breath as he feels your hands on his skin, the feeling of your fingers against his bare flesh sending a shiver down his spine. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, pulling back just enough to let you yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside.

He takes a moment to admire your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes trail over his now bare torso. He grins at the hungry look in your eyes as you take in his muscular chest and stomach. 

“Don’t look at me like that sweetheart, it’ll get you into trouble.” he warns.

“I like trouble,” you say, drinking in the sight of him as he pins you to the air mattress. 

He laughs at your response, the sound deep and gravelly in his chest. “You would,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “I think that’s why I like you.”

He leans back down to capture your lips in another kiss, his bare chest now pressed against yours. He runs his hands up and down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips beneath your sweatpants.

As he kisses you, he slips his thigh between your legs, pressing his body even closer against yours. He runs his tongue along your jawbone, trailing kisses along your neck as he moves down to your throat.

He sucks lightly at your pulse point, nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers reach for the hem of your t-shirt slowly dragging it up over your body.  “Take this off for me, dove,” he whispers.

You lift up, letting him drag the old, threadbare shirt over your chest. His eyes take in the sight of your bare skin in the low light of the tent. His breath stutters at the sight of your body, the way the light dances across your curves making his throat go dry.

He lets out a low moan as he looks at you, his hands roaming freely over your bare skin. “Goddamn,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gorgeous.”

His hands trace the curves of your breasts, sliding down over your waist and to the waistband of your sweatpants. His eyes lock onto yours as his hands move down your body, his touch searing against your skin. He teases at the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers tracing soft circles against your hip bones.

He can feel the warmth of your body beneath his palm, the way your skin twitches in anticipation under his touch sending a jolt of desire through his body. “Can I take these off?” he whispers, his voice rough with need.

“Please,” you beg. 

He grins at your response, the sound of you begging awakening something primal in him. He slides his hands into the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he slowly starts to pull them down your legs.

His eyes never leave your face as he exposes more and more of your body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. Once he's removed the offending article of clothing, he lets his gaze roam over your body once again. His eyes trail over your bare skin, taking in the way the light from the storm outside casts shadows over your curves. He reaches out, his hands tracing over your legs, his touch gentle and reverent.

He can feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your body responds to his touch making him ache with desire. He leans down, pressing kisses over your stomach and hips, his lips roaming over your skin like a man starved.

You can hardly stand it, the feel of his lips on your skin is making you feel insane, “Touch me, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. He leans back, locking his eyes with yours as he reaches for your hips once again, gripping them firmly.

“I'll touch you, baby,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “As much as you want. Where do you want my hands, sweetheart?”

“Everywhere, Jake. I told you,” you beg. 

“That’s quite the request, darling,” he says, the sound of the air mattress echoing as he repositions himself as carefully as possible. Your hands tug at the waistband of his boxers, eliciting a laugh from his chest. 

“Impatient, baby?”

“I just want you, Jake.” you confess. 

“I want you too, sweetheart, you have no idea,” he whispers, his eyes locking with yours.

He pushes his boxers down, kicking them off somewhere in the tent as he moves back over you. He braces himself on his forearms, his body pressed flush against yours again as he looks down at you. You get a wicked gleam in your eye, hooking your leg around his, and twisting until you are over top of him, straddling his waist. 

He grins up at you, his eyes raking over your body. “Well I’ll be damned, look at you,” he says, a note of surprise and arousal in his voice.

You give him a proud smile, sitting happily on top of him, enjoying the view below. You can feel how wet you are as it coats your inner thighs, and you know he is privy to this as well as the light reflects from your thighs.  

“You look so damn good on top of me,” he says, his voice rough and low. “Like you belong there. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re fucking hot,” you counter, brushing the hair off of his face. 

He lets out a laugh at your words, a grin spreading across his face. “And so articulate too,” he teases, his grip on your hips tightening as he speaks. His hand moves towards your center, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit. 

“Jesus,” you whine, his touch sending you soaring. 

“Not here, love,” he smirks. 

You grind yourself against him, a moan falling from his lips, “What was that you were saying?” you ask playfully. 

“Oh shit,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continue to move against him. He opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he tries to compose himself. “Don’t tease me sweetheart, it’s unbecoming.” he says, his voice rough.

You lift up to your knees, hovering over him enough to grab his length in your fist. A hiss leaves his chest at your touch, his jaw falling open as his eyes lock on yours. You drag his tip through your wetness, his eyes growing impossibly darker at the sensation. 

“Fuck me,” he pants, “Listen, if we’re gonna do this, I want to go slow. I have fucking dreamed about this moment. That and if I fuck you how I want to fuck you, we will pop this air matress. That will be for another time.”

You nod as you slowly sink down over him, taking every inch he has to offer. “Another time, huh? What makes you think–”

He delivers a pointed thrust up into you, stealing the air from your lungs. 

“That. That’s what makes me think, sweetheart,” he answers, grabbing your hips and helping you start to move on top of him. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you whine, feeling him stretch you out so completely. So fully. 

He lets out a low growl at your words, the sound filled with desire and need. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low and gruff.

His hands grip your hips even tighter as you move above him, his fingers digging into your skin as his body responds to your movements. “You feel so good, sweetheart, better than I imagined.” he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

You start to move your hips in a wave pattern, his length hitting you right where you need him. A cry leaves your chest as you toss your head back, feeling his hand move to support your lower back. The heat of the tent combined with the friction between you is making things even hotter, both of you growing sweaty and breathless as you move against each other.

He lets out a low moan, his hands moving up your body to grip your shoulders tightly. “Christ, baby, you’re a fucking dream,” he groans, his body arching up against yours as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. 

“Harder, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a sharp gasp as you say his name, his eyes darkening with desire. “Harder?” he asks, his voice thick and rough. “You want it harder, sweetheart?”

“Please, baby,” you whine.

He lets out a low growl at your plea, his hands tightening on your shoulders. “Yeah sweetheart, I got you.” he murmurs, his voice low and guttural. “Give you anything you want.”

You lean down letting him capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he pulls you closer against him. His hips buck upwards with more force now, his body moving against yours with increasing intensity. Your stomach is burning with need and you know it won’t be much longer until you burst into flames. 

“Don’t stop, baby, please,” you cry out, feeling your stomach growing hot. He lets out a muffled groan at your words, his hands gripping you tighter as he continues to fuck you. 

“God, you feel incredible,” he gasps, his mouth moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His hands move towards your ass, his fingers gripping into the supple flesh as he thrusts up into you. Your skin is slick with sweat and arousal, the lewd sounds filling the tent with the sound of the rain. He can hardly contain his moans now, matching your energy in the small tent.

“Sit up, I want to look at your tits while I fuck you,” he growls. 

You hear a hint of dominance fall from his lips and you can’t help but to obey. You sit up, straddling him again, as he leans up on his elbows to watch you. 

He lets out a guttural moan as you do as he asks, sitting up above him and giving him an even better view of your body. He runs his hand up your thigh, his eyes locked on your face.

“You like this?” you say, swirling your hips in a figure eight. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “I like this a lot.” His hand moves to cup at your tits, bouncing as you continue to fuck him. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.”

“I always am,” you say, biting at your bottom lip as you try to stave off your orgasm. 

He smiles at your response, his hands still gripping your thighs. He leans up again, capturing your lips in another intense kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he pulls you closer against him. He bites at your lower lip, his teeth grazing your skin softly. The feeling of his teeth on your skin pushes you over the edge, and you’re sure he can feel you tightening around him. 

“I’m close, baby,” you whine. 

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice thick with desire. "Gonna come for me, sweetheart?"

He slides his hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it slowly and insistently. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, his mouth moving to your ear. “Come right on my cock, just like this.”

“Come with me, Jake,” you beg, feeling his lips connect to the side of your neck. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, his body shuddering as he nears the edge. “Yeah...yeah I'm there sweetheart, I’m right fucking there,” he gasps, his hands gripping you tightly as his body moves against yours. “Say you’re mine, baby.”

Just the thought of him wanting to claim you as his sends you over the edge, your body giving in to your orgasm as you fall apart on top of him. “I’m yours Jake. Yours.”

He lets out a deep, guttural moan at your words, his body shuddering as he loses himself in your arms. “That’s right sweetheart, you're fucking mine,” he gasps, his voice ragged. “Mine and no one else's.”

He holds you close as he comes, his body shaking and shuddering against yours. "Fuck," he groans, his grip on you tight as he rides out the waves of his own release, hot as it spills inside of you. 

“Jake, fuck,” you pant, finally coming down from what is probably the best orgasm of your life. 

“God you’re fucking sexy,” he pants, “Jesus Christ. Incredible, actually.”

“You’re incredible,” you smile, lifting up and off of him. His hands don’t leave you though, not wanting you to stray too far. 

He grins at your words, his arms tightening around you as he holds you close. “You give me too much credit, sweetheart,” he says, his voice gruff and spent. “We just fucked on an air mattress,” he laughs.

He leans back and looks at you, a satisfied smile on his face. “God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” he admits, his eyes roving over your face.

“Probably as long as I have if I had to guess,” you smile. 

He lets out a low chuckle, a grin spreading across his face as he nods. “You'd be right about that,” he says, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “I've wanted you for a long time, sweetheart. Longer than I care to admit.”

“Well you have me now?” you say nervously.

His expression softens at your words, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do,” he says softly. He cups your face in his hand, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “And I'm not letting you go. You're mine now, sweetheart.”

“I think I always wanted to be,” you confess.

He grins at your words, a possessive glint in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nod sweetly as you reach for your clothes, the chill returning to the tent. You hand him his shirt and his boxers, pulling his sweats and t-shirt back over your body. He watches as you dress yourself in his clothing, a satisfied smile on his face. 

“You look so fucking hot in my clothes, please never try to give them back,” he says, his eyes raking over you with a smile. 

You giggle and shake your head, watching him pull his own clothes on before crawling back onto the air mattress. You snuggle into his side, feeling his arms wrap around you. He pulls you closer against him, nuzzling his face into your damp hair, his breath hot against your neck.

He lets out a content sigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as he holds you close. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

“Oh, no, I thought you liked camping alone,” you tease with a giggle.

He laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah yeah, shut up,” he says playfully, giving your side a squeeze. He snuggles into you more, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. “Don't get used to me wanting your company,” he jokingly warns you.

“Oh yeah? Want me gone by morning?” you taunt, letting your fingers trace shapes into his stomach.

He grins against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “Oh, I don't know if I'll wait that long,” he teases back. He presses soft, gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, his lips moving slowly over your skin. “I might just kick you out now.”

“Ahh, there you are. I was wondering where you went. You were being far too sweet.” you tease.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you. “Oh? You prefer me mean, is that it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. He gives you a playful nudge, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can be an ass if you want, sweetheart. It really is no problem.”

“No, no. I think I'll keep you just like this.” you say nuzzling under his chin. You listen to the steady beating of his heart, feeling your eyes grow tired. He runs his fingers through your hair, a soft, soothing gesture meant to lull you to sleep. He grins slightly as he feels your breathing begin to slow, knowing that you're on the verge of sleep. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, his voice soft and low.

“I am now,” you whisper. 

He lets out a soft chuckle at your sleepy response, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, his fingers resuming their gentle caresses through your hair. 

“Then close your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice even quieter now. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” you breathe, slipping quickly. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers continuing to gently massage your scalp as he feels you slowly drift off to sleep.

—

You wake the next morning finding that the sun hasn't risen fully yet, and the air is chilly. You’re warm though, wrapped up in Jake beneath the sleeping bag.  He feels you stirring next to him, a smile spreading across his face as he feels you wake up. He's been lying awake for a little while now, just watching you sleep and enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep. 

“Morning,” you answer, turning to look at his tired face.

He grins as you reply to him, his arms tightening around you. “Sleep well?” he asks, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“So good. Did you?” you ask with a sleepy yawn.

He chuckles softly, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah, I slept great,” he replies, his voice still rough and gravelly. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer against him and nuzzling his face into your hair. “Best night's sleep I've had in a long time.”

You smile as you roll into him, placing a kiss on his warm chest.

He lets out a low groan at your kiss, his body shuddering slightly as he feels your lips on his skin. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep doing things like that and we'll never get out of this tent.”

“I’m kinda sad that we have to leave today,” you say, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. 

He smiles down at you, his eyes soft and tender. “Yeah, me too,” he admits, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It's been nice having you all to myself. Don't want to share you with the rest of the world, now.”

You giggle against his chest, a warmth washing over you as you feel his fingers moving lazily against your skin, “Ugh, the rest of the world, don’t remind me…”

“Actually, speaking of, Josh texted me,” he says, a chuckle leaving his chest. 

“Did he?”

“Yeah, said he hoped we hadn’t killed each other because neither of them had heard from us since they left,” he smiles, pulling you tight against him. 

You gasp, realizing he’s right, “Shit, I– I totally forgot about them.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you, “Yeah, I did too. I guess we were just– a little preoccupied,” he grins. 

“Do we tell them?” you ask nervously. 

He considers it for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, “I mean, yeah, we probably should,” he pauses, “They don’t need the details, but I think they should know.”

“Won’t Josh be mad?” you ask, scared of his answer. 

He laughs at your question. “Yeah, absolutely he will. He'll give me one of his long winded lectures about being nice to you and treating you right. Make some threats about what he'll do if I hurt you. You know, the usual.” 

You nudge him with your elbow, “Maybe that isn’t a half bad idea,” you tease.

He laughs, feigning offense. “Hey now, don't side with him,” he says, giving you a playful nudge in return. He pulls you closer against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But seriously, I don't think Josh will be too surprised. I think he's always known something was bound to happen between the two of us whether he wanted it to or not.”

“I’m glad it finally did.”

He grins, his eyes locking on yours. “Me too, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, his body enveloping yours as he holds you tightly against him. “I just wish we had more time alone together,” he says, his voice suddenly serious.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“I mean, once we leave here it’s going to be different, you know? We’ll have the band, tour, media, friends, all of it. I just– I know it’s a lot to deal with. You’ve been around Josh and Clara, you know how it can be. I just– I want you around, but I don’t want that to scare you away.”

You smirk at him, “It’s not going to scare me away, Jake. I just want you to be really sure this is something you want to get into right now.”

He looks into your eyes, his expression serious. “I’m sure,” he says firmly. “I know it’s not going to be easy. I know there will be challenges. But I’m sure about you. About us.” He takes your face in his hands, his palms cupping your cheeks. “You’re all I want. Nothing else matters.”

You nod your head in his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “Okay, then I’m in if you are.”

His eyes soften as you kiss his palm, a smile spreading across his face. “I'm more than in,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'm yours, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you against him. “And I plan on showing you just how much I want you, every single day.”

“Well, everyday until tour starts back up, right?” you tease playfully. 

He laughs, shaking his head at your taunting, “Yeah, alright, smartass,” he grins, giving you a playful pinch on the side. He rolls over on top of you, his body pressing you down into the air mattress as he looks down at you with a smirk. “Don't worry, I'll make up for the lost time.”

“Oh, tempting…Maybe on a real bed? Not an air mattress?” you smirk. 

He chuckles, his eyes raking over your body, "Is this your way of asking me to take you home with me, sweetheart?" he grins.

“Unless you’d like a redo on my twin size,” you quip.

“Baby, have you ever been on a tour bus?” he giggles, pressing kisses to your neck.

You shake your head, laughing as his fingers tickle into your ribs, “No.”

“Mmm, you’re in for a real treat.” He grins down at you, his eyes glinting with desire. "Yeah, I think a real bed sounds like a good idea. And a real shower."

“A shower…” you breathe, the idea sounding desperately appealing. 

He laughs, noticing the way you react to the idea. “Yeah baby, a shower. A big, hot shower with actual water pressure. And a nice bed with sheets and blankets and the best feather pillows you’ve ever laid your head on.”

“Mhmm, maybe we should pack up now and get there immediately,” you giggle. 

“We should.” He presses his lips to yours again, warm as they linger there, “To be continued,” he says, pushing up off of the air mattress and stepping out into the sun. 

You spend the rest of the morning packing up the campsite, tearing down your tents and loading them into his car, sneaking glances at each other every few minutes. Jake works to organize everything into the small trunk, with the addition of your tent and Josh and Clara’s. You drain the cooler as he closes the trunk, dusting his hands off on his pants. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yep! Just this and we are all set,” you shout. 

He walks over to you, grabbing the cooler and walking it back to his car with you in tow. He opens the passenger side door for you, gesturing you inside, before joining you on the other side. 

“You know, I really am kind of sad to leave,” you laugh, “I never thought I would be saying that, but–”

“It’s a magical place,” he smiles, “S’why I come here so much.”

“Maybe we can come back?” you ask, tilting your head against the headrest. 

“Oh definitely,” he answers, “Whenever you want, sweetheart.” His hand comes to rest on your knee, his thumb stroking against your skin as he navigates the car out of the woods and back towards the road. You give him a warm smile, feeling the air conditioner bring chills to your skin. 

“Hey, I was um, I was serious about you coming home with me,” he says, taking his eyes off of the road to meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Oh, I mean, I would like that. If you’re really sure,” you answer nervously. 

He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze, a smile coming to his lips, “I’m really sure. I want to be with you as much as I can before I leave. Want you in my bed, my shower, the whole house really. All of it. I just want you.”

You blush, his words sending a shockwave through your system, “Okay.”

He grins widely, “Good.” He squeezes your thigh, his palm hot against your skin. “Should be home pretty quick, now.” 

“It is Sunday funday, right?” you giggle. “But, I guess that's kinda everyday for you, isn’t it?”

“Very funny,” he taunts, his expression growing serious, “But yes. It is,” he answers, grabbing your attention as you turn to look at him. He sends you a playful wink as he pats your thigh, letting out a deep breath that almost seemed like he was relieved. 

“Let me make you dinner tonight,” he says, keeping his stare focused on the overgrown highway. “Real dinner.”

“Oh, real dinner, huh?” you tease, placing your hand over top of his. “I feel like I vaguely remember hearing about you being a good cook, but I can’t remember for sure.”

He laughs, “What else have you heard about me, baby?”

Just as you go to answer his phone rings through the car speakers. You can see on the display that it is Josh calling him, and he glances to you before accepting the call. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

“Dude, are you two alive? What the fuck is going on?” he asks, a tone of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Yeah we are alive. You know there’s no reception out there. Kinda the reason I go,” he says, hoping to jog his memory. 

“So you didn’t kill each other, that’s great news.” Josh says, and you can hear Clara laughing in the background.

Jake looks over at you, his eyes silently begging the question of if he should break the news to him. You take a minute to consider the risks but decide there really aren’t any. You nod eagerly at Jake, watching as he nods back in understanding. 

“Hey, uh, you two busy tonight?” he asks, his one hand gripping the steering wheel. 

“Not that I know of, why?” he answers. 

“Well, we are just now on our way back. Need to unload, shower, all that. How about you guys come over for dinner tonight? I’m cooking,” he says. You can sense the nerves in his tone, his face serious as he waits for Josh’s reply. 

“Um, yeah yeah that should be…good. You said we… Is… there a we?” he asks, his voice a little quieter. 

“Just come over tonight. Both of you. Just got some things to tell you,” he says, a smile pulling across his lips. 

A huff leaves his lips, “Things to tell me?”

“Hi Josh!” you say, speaking up on the call. 

“Holy shit, hey Y/N,” Josh answers, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. 

“See you tonight?” you ask, hearing him gasp in shock. You can hear him pull the phone away from his ear, doing his best to cover the microphone with his hand, “Holy fuck, Clara you were right. It happened,” he says in a mumbled mess. You know he did not intend for either of you to hear it, but you did.

“Josh?” Jake says, pulling him back to the call. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Sorry, yeah– we will definitely be there.”

“See you tonight, Josh?” you ask, lacing your fingers with Jake’s, feeling his warm hand in yours. He leans over and kisses your cheek before settling back in his seat.

You listen to Josh laugh through the speakers, sighing as he speaks, “Yeah, I guess I will see you tonight.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

xo, N

Taglist: @gretavanmoon @wetkleenex-gvf @eyelinerjake @farfromthehomelands @sacredstarcatcher @britney-gvf @stardustjake @jakesmustache @starshine-wagner @mweasley19 @joopsenthusiast @ageofbajabule @ladywhimsymoon @vanfleeter @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @ageoflou @freefallthoughts @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @literal-dead-leaf @welllauragvf @writingcold @bizzielisteningtogreta @neptune2324 @itsafullmoon @violet-hayes @gvfmarge @demonrat444 @mybussyinchrist @cl0ver-j4de @earthgrlsreasy @what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama @mama-likes72 @laurngvf @racheljuneeee @farfromthehomelands @cat3rpillarbaby @cassiesgreta @jarmonicasweat@ghostly--photography @josh-iamyour-mama @raviolilegs @gvfmarge @milkgemini @jaketlove @watchingover-hypegirl @ageoflou @cl0ver-j4de @takenbythemadness @lightmyloverry

@flightofseams @torniturntomyarrow @allmylovejtk @m0uthfl13s @klarxtr @styles-canvas @fleet-of-fiction @gretavanbear @builtbybrokenbells @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @starrymoonslut @lightmy-love @edgingthedarkness @gvfmarge @dannys-dream @demonrat444 @jjwasneverhere @fleetingofthegretas @highway-tuna @gretas-sweat @darianh07 @age0fwagner @stardustjake @Catharu77 @milkgemini @watchingover-hypegirl @lightmy-love @twinszka @peaceloveunitygvf @raviolilegs @thetroublegetssoloud71 @sacredthefran @solanjjje @sanguinebats @itsafullmoon @sacredthethreadgvf @gretavanbrie

[reallyromealone]

Title: bakugos brother

Chapter:...4?

Fandom: bnha

Characters: Bakugo, kirishima, bakusquad and deku squad and a few teachers

Fic type: series

Pairings: kirishima x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, fluff, angst, teen romance

Notes:I lost the ask, so requester I hope you enjoy

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Apparently he's like super smart"

"He plays chess, I heard he never lost"

"He seems pretty ordinary, I don't get why he's Nedzus personal student"

(Name) Ignored the comments as he left Nedzu's office, his uniform perfectly ironed and his school work organized to perfection as he went to his gen-ed classes, spending the first portion of his day with Nedzu then the rest with his peers as the faculty deemed it important for him to make friends and talk to those his age.

"Apparently he's brothers with Bakugo"

"He probably has serious anger issues"

(Name) Walked into the gen-ed class and took a seat in his chair, staring off as he began playing chess in his head as he waited for things to start "you're bakugos brother, right?" A voice asked beside him and (name) looked to see a guy "yes, I am" (name) said simply as the others glared slightly "your brother is an obnoxious asshole!" One student said "yeah! You two are so fucking cold to others, what? You think you're better than us?!"

"You know, it's impressive " (name) said simply as a student looked confused "what is?"

"That you can make baseless accusations on someone whom you haven't even had a conversation with" (name) said simply as the others looked shocked "you make claims about me that hold zero merit and frankly I think that's appalling" "how dare--"

"I think that's enough class" present mic walked in clearly frustrated with his students "is this any way to treat a new classmate?"

"But--"

"But what? I heard everything and frankly I'm ashamed of you all" the blond teacher said sternly "(name) was put in your class hoping you all would give him a warm welcome and you berated him for actions of another"

The students looked ashamed and (name) was awkward, fidgeting with his mechanical pencil as the others mumbled out apologies and the blond sighed "now pull out your textbooks to page 138"

When classes ended, (name) had a free study period and decided to go to the courtyard to play some chess by himself and get away from it all, he felt just as lonely as he did at his old school but he should have expected to be in his brothers shadow here as well.

"Hey... Uh were sorry about what happened" a few students came up, a purple haired teen and two others "it was pretty shitty of us to put that on you, that wasn't cool" the teens mumbled and (name) shrugged "I'm used to it"

"You shouldn't have to be though and it's uncool"

"Shinso Hitoshi" the purple haired teen offered and (name) looked at them passively "Bakugo (name)" his voice always so calm and collected as they nodded "so you play chess?" One student asked and (name) nodded "outside of school, I'm a professional chess player"

"Whoa! That's so cool! Is that why you're Nedzu's student?"

"Actually it's due to my quirk, I have an intelligence quirk" (name) explained and the three sat with him "whoa those are super rare!" The other said and Shinso looked curious about it "why didn't you apply earlier?" Shinso asked before realizing that was probably insensitive and (name) shrugged "didn't think I would be able, two students already got into here... A third seemed impossible" it was a lie but they seemed to accept it.

"So what's it like being Nedzu's student?!"

After classes, Kirishima was excited to see his boyfriend as the two hadn't seen each other in a few days due to conflicting schedules but now they could! Even if half the class wanted to join as well.

"I brought a friend" (name) said simply as shinso looked awkward, kirishima feeling pride at his boyfriend making friends independent of the redhead "oh! You're the one going through the transfer!" Momo said excitedly "yeah the one replacing mineta!" Ochaco cheared "and right before the sports festival! Oh we can train together!"

Hitoshi was startled a bit as he noticed Midoriya who was a calming presence "come on! Aizawa is only letting us out till 845! We only have like five hours!" Mina yelled as Bakugo grunted at her dragging him.

Hitoshi was dragged into conversation with tenya and kaminari about god knows what as Kirishima and a few others chatted away, leaving the Bakugo siblings to walk beside each other awkwardly "how's heroics" (name) said in more of a statement, uncomfortable as he tried to make small talk with his brother "fine" Bakugo grunted as Kirishima went with tsu and Ochaco "babe I'll be right back! Don't follow I want it to be a surprise!"

And then the siblings were left alone as the group seperated to grab the things they needed or wanted and to meet up after for food.

"You two seem happy" Bakugo was rarely soft, the concept of him being calm and tentative was something that would be laughable to anyone who knew him "he makes me happy, I hope I make him feel the same" (name) said simply and Bakugo make a soft hum "I'm glad you're at U.A"

"Didn't you not want me here?" (Name) Looked at Katsuki as they stopped walking"fucking--- I know I was shitty, dad's making me go to therapy with hound dog" this was new, something he didn't expect at all.

"Dad's fed up with the hag, he's forcing basically everyone to therapy so expect a call"

The two sat on a bench, small talk between them as they waited for their friends to come back.

It was strange for Katsuki to say he was finally meeting his brother, on equal grounds and no hostility but Katsuki needed this.

He needed his brother.

"BABE LOOK WHAT I FOUND!" Kirishima barreled in with bracelets "look, it has chess pieces! And you can customize it so I added a barbell!" Kirishima said excitedly as he handed (name) one and the calmer Bakugo took it curiously "this is cheesy" he said simply but the small smile as he put on it made kirishima fly to cloud nine.

Bakugo was surprised that his brother had such an interest like origami, seeming genuinely happy with the variety pack of designs "oo make me a brid!" Kirishima teased and (name) took that seriously and they could see the gears turn in his head.

(Name) Was happy when he returned to his form, putting the bracelet in a safe area with his other important items and sat down, thinking About the conversation he had... Bakugo apologized...

He had to talk to kirishima tomorrow about this.

"Hey shitty hair,.can I talk?"

[biolumien]

to call home.

pt 4 to the samurai!hoshina fic. pt 3 is here.

notes: i will attempt to tie this up with a neat bow in pt 5... i forgot how frenetic multichapter fics can be... i much prefer the single stuff...!

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader definite descriptions of gore and blood word count: 1426

“for the last time, hoshina, i do not want to hear about your current wife problems,” gen narumi grumbles. “i cannot begin to tell you how fucking little i care.” he crosses his arms. “you’re here every single fucking day. i told you that we signed off on the alliance papers, right? it’s all in order? your wife’s the one that’s supposed to be going through those. she should be seeing right through your bullshit. i’m not your fucking friend.” 

“please,” hoshina says. “it’s not like i have anyone else to talk to about this.”

“talk to the the old man,” gen deadpans. “what was his name… hibino? the blacksmith?” 

“he’s madly in love with ashiro and is of little help to me,” hoshina replies flatly. 

“ugh.” gen rolls his eyes, leaning forward. the front of his kimono slips a bit, revealing more of his chest as he leans against the table. “so what the hell’s the issue now?” 

hoshina sighs. 

“we sparred the other day. she seemed upset,” hoshina says. “i just wish she’d tell me what she was actually thinking instead of just… staring at me like that.” that look that you give him, where it seems like you want to rip out his stomach and devour it whole. that look that you give him, where you so clearly just—want him dead, more than anything. 

“did you do something to piss her off?” gen asks. 

“no. i just…” hoshina worries his lip. “we haven’t even really done anything.”

“not even sleep together?”

“no, that we did. because we had to,” hoshina says. 

“ugh. of course you can make even the act of sleeping with someone sound dastardly unsexy and so fucking boring,” gen yawns. “what’s the problem, anyhow? we don’t marry for love. it’s duty. i thought you knew better than to believe in childish notions about true love.”

“i believe in true love as much as the next person,” hoshina says, “which is to say that i don’t. not in this life. not in the next.”

gen rolls his eyes. 

“why don’t you just talk to her?” gen asks, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. hoshina supposes that it is, but something about gen saying it to him filled him with some kind of petty rage.

“i’m glad that you seem to think it’s so simple,” hoshina states flatly. “given that you don’t have a wife yet–”

“just can’t keep your mouth shut, huh?” gen’s glare was unimpressed, his hand lowering to the wakizashi at his side. “get out of here before i stab you.”

“ouch, so prickly,” hoshina sneers, but gets up anyway. 

gen stares up at hoshina, yawning inelegantly. 

“i think instead of pussyfooting around this whole thing with your wife you ought to talk to her, quite frankly speaking, about the kind of relationship you want with her. that’s my advice.” 

“hm. that might sound good coming out of anyone else’s mouth but yours,” hoshina says with a leering smile, but the longer he thinks about it, the more gen seems to be right. he’d never truly tried to get to know you, right? nights spent in his own quarters were usually quiet—because he’d always attempted to respect your privacy to the best of his ability. 

you’d wanted nothing to do with him, after all—you barely even mentioned the night you spent together. was he really so clear and obvious in the ways he tried desperately to avoid conflict?

…

probably, now that he thought about it. 

as he settles down for the night, though, something doesn’t feel quite right. he chalks it up to simpler paranoias at first—general anxieties and unrest, the way you’d stared at him during dinner, with a stare so vicious it could kill on its own—up until he hears a bloodcurdling scream.

he bolts out of bed immediately, snatching up his wakizashi and katana, storming towards the source of the noise before he hears the clashing of blades—or a singular crack of one. 

hoshina watches as you cleave an assassin by the neck with a sweep of your naginata, blood splattering across your kimono as you heave out a low breath. as he approaches, you raise your naginata in sudden alarm before lowering your blade. 

“shinobi,” you say, sharply exhaling.

“so it appears,” hoshina says, drawing his katana, stepping behind you with his sword raised in a ready stance. “are you hurt?”

“clearly not,” you say, voice cold even now. “they breached the maids’ quarters. seems like they thought i’d have switched rooms or something out of paranoia.” you level your naginata, adjusting the sleeve of your kimono as you slam the blade into the wall, with an accompanying thud from another assassin.

“a bad actor, you’re saying?” hoshina’s eyes glance across the darkened hallway, his ears straining for any possible sound. he thinks he hears the thudding of footsteps somewhere close, and he raises his sword defensively. “from within the house?” 

“i don’t know,” you respond. “this could just be your family’s enemies. representatives from the narumi clan?” 

“doubtful,” hoshina says. gen wouldn’t be that stupid. “my talks have been going well.”

“well clearly, someone’s fucked up somewhere,” you shout back at him. he wonders why you look beautiful in this moment, blood staining your white kimono and across your face—and then your eyes widen in panic, your lips parting to let out a shout. “soshiro, behind!” 

he whirls around, his blade sinking into the chest of a faceless attacker—he feels the sinking of his blade into the flesh, and he grits his teeth. 

“you saved my life,” hoshina says, not turning to face you. 

“you’re welcome, jackass,” you respond. “keep your eyes and ears open. i’ll fucking kill them all.” 

hoshina laughs. the venom in your voice, usually targeted at him, now freely dished out to your aggressors was a terrifying sound and sight. he thanked the gods at least that he wasn’t your enemy—at least for the moment. 

the house was in disarray—screaming punctuated with the sound of blades, and the darkness made it hard to tell what was really going on, shadows mixed with dark shapes creating an inky blur of sound and physical sensation—but he could carve a path of bodies through it, coat the ground with enough viscera that there would be less sounds of clashing blades. 

as his blade finds the neck of another assassin, hoshina exhales. 

is it over? hoshina wonders. he strains his hearing for the moment, hearing no more footsteps. and yet the air is abuzz with energy–and something doesn’t feel right.

though, he amended, it hadn’t felt right since he’d gotten ready to go to bed. there was terrible unrest. something in the air.

“it’s over, i think,” hoshina says warily, still keeping his sword drawn.

“maybe,” you say, your voice terse.

hoshina leans down, examining one of the bodies, trying to look for an insignia, anything–but the assassins knew better. they bore no symbols of other houses, their weapons nondescript.

and then he hears you shout, and he turns to see you gritting your teeth as you swing your naginata at the same time as the final assassin’s blade connected with your side, having been knocked slightly askew–

you’d saved him.

hoshina moves on instinct as you collapse to the ground, gasping in uneasy pain, trying to hold your side, pulling away to find your hand and sleeve coated with blood. his sword finding the assassin’s stomach–it wasn’t an elegant cut by any means, and he grimaced at the sound of ripping flesh, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he rushed to your side, just trying to take in the sight of your blood spilling against the floor.

you cough.

“soshiro,” you whisper, looking up at him. “am i going to die?”

“no,” hoshina says, but the truth is he’s really not sure. he checks your wound–it’s deep, but if a doctor could stem the bleeding, there’d be a chance you might live. “that was stupid of you, you know. you didn’t have to do that.”

you cough, laughing weakly as you press your hand against your side. he pulls you up, holding your head in his arm.

“it’s my duty as your wife,” you say.

“you don’t have to do it if you don’t love me,” hoshina replies softly. your eyes flick to his face, narrow a little before you look away.

“it’s a shame that i think i do,” you say, and there’s not even a shred of resentment in your voice.  

[cranberrv]

video games!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which you and dallas get caught kissing

( a/n : i haven’t posted in 4ever, so im sorry this is super short but i miss posting n wanted to get smth out! adore this request xx )

the burgundy of buck merrill’s thunderbird reflected across the lake that hugged the highway. you and dallas winston are driving to the nightly-double, the local drive-in that both socs and greasers go to. usually, you two would walk, but due to construction you had to take the long way and go on the highway.

you never loved when dallas drove on highways. you knew him well enough to know that he was not the best driver in the world, and he loved to go fast. so on the highway, he drives like a maniac!

you’re holding onto his hand, and his other hand is on the wheel. dallas is swerving past cars, going inbetween lanes, and basically doing everything you shouldn’t do. you elbow him when he almost bumps into the back of a car once you reach traffic.

“christ, hate fuckin’ traffic,” he scoffs and honks on the horn.

you roll your eyes playfully. “don’t think honking will help, dal,”

“whatever, man,” he sighs and leans back. his little moment of rest doesn’t last long, though. he glances at you, sitting there peacefully, unbothered by the traffic. he doesn’t understand why you are so easygoing. “we’re gonna miss the fuckin’ movie,” he groans and smacks the steering wheel, annoyed.

“dally, it’s fine,” i say softly. “didn’t wanna watch a horror movie, anyway,”

“‘course you didn’t,” the edges of his pretty lips form a gentle smirk. “you fuckin’ pussy,”

“excuse me?”

he lifts his hands up in mock-surrender. “hey man, i said what i said,”

“you’re a jerk,” you respond, crossing your arms and pretending to be mad.

if there’s one thing about you and dallas, it’s that you two tease each other endlessly. well, more him towards you. but he can’t help it! that little pout on your face is just so cute, in his mind.

“y/n, i was joking,” he says, even though it’s blatanly obvious. “what, you actually mad or somethin’?”

you decide to go along with the bit, amused that he’s almost believing you. with a shrug, you keep your arms crossed and look out the window.

“c’mon, man, tell me if i did somethin’,” he insists. “don’t need to give me the silent treatment,”

you continue to ignore him, a smile crossing your face that he can’t see. he can be so gullible sometimes. he acts all tough and he’s always telling people that nothing can touch him, but the minute that you pretend to be mad at him, he’s practically at your feet begging for your attention.

“you want me to turn this car around? this movie is gonna be no fun if you’re mad at me,” he sighs, kicking himself for calling you a name. “at least look at me, man,”

the minute you turn your head to look at him and tell him that you’re joking and you love him, he doesn’t let you talk when he grabs your chin and kisses you.

you could say you’re surprised, but you’re not. dallas isn’t one to apologize, showing his endless adoration for you through stuff like massaging your shoulders, hugging you, kissing you, buying (or stealing) you a new necklace.

the two of you get into it too fast. you kiss him back after a few seconds of registering what’s happening, getting your pink lipgloss on his lips as you reach to grab the back of his brunette hair and pull him closer. the cigarette in between his calloused fingers burns out, and he throws it out the open window before reaching for your hand with the one that’s not holding your chin. he leans more into the kiss, trusting that you forgive him for what he said — even though you were never mad in the first place!

he pulls a millimeter away as he catches his breath, his gorgeous voice filling your ears as he whispers, “you forgive me now, doll?”

you smile and can’t hide the soft blush on your face as he whisper to you. even though you’re dating, it still feels like you have a silly girly crush on him, going pink at the most casual of words. “was never mad at you, dal,” you whisper back.

he’s about to say something, probably about how annoying you are, but you stop him before he can, bringing both your manicured hands to his cheeks and pulling him back in to continue kissing. a soft chuckle from him vibrates your kiss, he loves it when you initiate the kiss. in his mind, you’re just too cute.

but i guess you weren’t cute in the cops eyes. cars honking is all around, but you assume that’s just from this super annoying traffic. news flash, it wasn’t. the traffic is long gone, whatever accident that happened earlier was cleared up, but the two of you were still in the middle of the 6 lane highway, kissing in the thunderbird.

a cop car stops beside you, coming to speak to you. the minute you hear the deep voice echo from outside, you jump and pull away. dallas sighs and mutters something about you being a “prude” for ending the kiss so soon, until he realizes that the cop is there.

“hey, lovebirds,” the cop greets you. he doesn’t look very happy. “you’re blocking the entire highway. you know it’s illegal to stop on the highway?”

dallas gives the cop a side glare, raising his upper lip in annoyance. “yeah, we know,” dallas says harshly. “we ain’t stupid,”

“winston,” the cop groans. great, your boyfriends name is known by some random cop. “you wanna go in the cooler again?”

“you’re seriously wanting to put me in the cooler just because i’m lovin’ on my broad? huh?”

“go love on her somewhere else.” the cop says. “come on, son, you and your girl are holding up the traffic. off you go,”

“unbelievable,” dallas whispers under his breath, then he steps on the gas and drives away. a sea of cars follows. you were holding up a lot of people just by kissing.

it’s safe to say that when you got there, you didn’t catch one word of the movie.

[hilsonamore]

okay i’m still merely a little more than halfway though the series so maybe i’m saying silly things, but, in my professional opinion (not) house and cuddy are better off flirting than actually involved with each other.

Let me explain…

I haven’t even reached the part where they get together or whatever, they’ve just kissed, but they are in a sticky situation and on top of that wilson, the self-denying little shit, is so desperately trying to set them up, and the whole thing just feels…off. Like, cuddy is right, house and her getting together is not something anyone wants to see.

To be honest, i love the flirtatious, atmospheric and tense banter between the two, but that’s. it. They both care for each other, despite everything, okay i know , but god house (from where i’m standing) has never, not ever, looked or talked to/about cuddy the way he does with wilson. I can’t stop thinking about those early eps in season five where house and wilson were not speaking to each other and house was obsessed with getting in touch with him, and during a procedure he said to the team something along the lines of “what did wilson do for me? Sure, he made me laugh on a rainy day…made me see the colours i never knew”. Seriously? I want to punch them.

The way he laughs with wilson, the way to talks about him to his face, to other people, to himself, the intimate stares and little smiles and agape mouths whenever wilson does something unexpected. The sparks, the liveliness dancing in his eyes whenever he lays them upon his best friend for whatever reason. The way he’s always making “jokes” about them being together, not only privately but in-front of everyone, the way his voice catches, gentles, and the fact that you can see and feel the desperation and the edge in his voice (or am i just being delusional? nah i’m not).

Sure, i know he always makes a point about cuddy’s ass or bosom or whatever but…it’s not the fucking same. I don’t know how to explain it, but the way hugh laurie delivers his goddamn lines make a point for differentiation between the two flirting points and persons. I- i feel like i’m making zero sense.

let me know your own thoughts peeps <3

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

I love your writing so much. I’m constantly looking at your page to see what you’ve written next 🫶🏻🫶🏻 are you able to write anymore for like 90s snakepit slash?

A/n: had this idea and figured this was a chance to use it and then I didn’t think I wrote it well but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3

Warnings: smut, rehab, smoking, car sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

It was Slash’s first time in rehab and he wasn’t having it. Everyone was giving him ways to cope, meetings, lunches, excursions. He just wanted to lay in bed and not do anything.

The first week or so he just hid in bed, sweating and shaking until he finally got over it.

Everyone was encouraging him to leave his room, just to get out and meet people, even just to eat alone. Just to get out of bed.

He did, eventually. He went down to the commissary in hopes of getting a pack of cigarettes but they were all out. He was going back to his room when he saw someone smoking on the deck.

“Hey, could I borrow one.” He asked as he came up beside you, hesitantly holding a hand out.

You looked up at him, he was older than you and smelled like a mess. “Borrow?” You asked.

He nodded, gaze glued to the railing. “Yes, please, can I?”

“Are you gonna give it back?” You asked. He rolled his eyes and you laughed before giving him a cigarette and lighting it for him.

“Thanks.” He muttered, finally getting what he wanted.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, blowing smoke out into the cool air.

Slash looked at you with a raised brow. “Fuck do you think I’m doing here?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d get sober.” You said, taking another drag. “I thought you’d just, I don’t know, curl up and die.”

Slash laughed, a soft, nasally chuckle. “I did, kind of.”

You nodded. “I heard.”

Slash enjoyed your company, he also enjoyed bumming smokes off of you.

You learned he wasn’t much for talking but he was a good listener.

You’d both checked into this place at the same time, you were supposed to stay for longer than him. He was curious what happened to you but you never gave him a clear answer and he’d always have to drop it.

It was Slash’s last day in rehab. You’d come down to get a pack of cigs and Walker past him. He’d already gone to the commissary and had a pack for himself. He smiled at you as you past him.

He got the last pack.

You stormed back to him, arms crossed over your chest. “Seriously?”

He grinned. “Knew I’d get there first.” You rolled yours eyes at him. He handed you one and lit it for you.

“Only took you a month.” He scoffed and waved you off. It was getting colder out, you had to wear a sweater and your nose was going pink at the tip.

“How much longer until you get out?” He asked, tapping his cigarette on the railing.

You huffed, smoke flowing out of your nose. You shook your head as you thought about it. “Another month, but…” you trailed.

“But..?” Slash asked, leaning forward to look at you.

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I’m coming right back anyway.” You laughed as you said it, though it was hollow.

Slash, but his lip and shook his head. “No you won’t.” He stated. “I’m getting you out of here and you’re not coming back.” He assured, wrapped his arm around your waist and pulling you close to his side. You didn’t believe him but it was nice to think about.

Slash left the next day. You didn’t see him, didn’t say goodbye. You wanted the last time you’d see him to be nice, not a farewell.

The days grew shorter and felt longer, you refused to make any new friends and spent most of your time in your room or smoking by the lake. A man made lake surrounded by trees with a dock and a boat that was an insult away from sinking. It was a quiet place for you to go and think, remember Slash, think about if he actually ever did come and pick you up.

Everyday you wandered back to your room and crawled into bed.

Finally your stay was done. The group sang you out and you walked out the front doors all just to sit outside in the cold.

You had nowhere to go, no one was coming to get you. You didn’t feel like calling a cab so you just sat there.

A car pulled up, an fancy expensive black car. The drivers window rolled down to reveal Slash. “I told you I was getting you out of here.”

Before you even got in you were crying, when you sat in the passenger seat Slash wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. “Hey, hey, come on now, you’re fine.” He rubbed your back and kissed your cheeks, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

He started driving with no directions, no final destination, just driving.

You were talking, telling him about everything and anything all while he listened intently, his hand on your thigh, squeezing it occasionally.

You sighed. “I missed you a lot.” He glanced over at you.

“Yeah?” You nodded.

“I thought about you a lot.” He seemed intrigued by your response. “Out by the lake and on the deck.”

His hand trailed up you leg. “Wish they’d let us get closer when I was there.” He muttered as he pulled over to the side of the empty road.

He pulled you closer, lips crashing against yours. His hands trailed over you, gripping your hips, groping your chest. Your hands laced into his hair, tugging on it and drawing soft groans out of him, all falling into your mouth.

You moved your seat back and Slash crawled over you, struggling with you shirt before finally just ripping it off of you. You barely stripped, only taking off what was absolutely necessary, anything to get skin on skin faster.

Slash’s pants bundled around his ankles, yours were as well. Slash pushed your legs over his shoulders and got your jeans off along with your panties.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he pushed into you. His mouth fell open and his eyes fluttered shut, heavy breaths left him as he held himself over you.

“You’re so pretty.” Your own breath was shaky as you spoke.

Slash’s eyes opened and he smiled down at you. “I’m pretty?” You nodded. “I’ll show you pretty.” He said, leaning down to kiss up your neck.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close to you as he sucked and nipped at your sensitive skin. His hips started moving, rolling against you and sending jolts of pleasure through you.

He started moving faster, shaking the whole car as he fucked you. “Hah! Fuck, Slash, feels s’good.” You whined.

Slash grunted in your ear, gripping your thighs tighter. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this.” His hips rolled in circles, keeping a steady rhythm.

“Hah- oh, fuck.” You moaned, nails digging into Slash’s shoulder and drawing a deep groan out of him. His hips snapped at a different angle, one that had you seeing stars. “Fuck! There, right there!”

Slash gave a wicked grin and did as you asked. His movements sped up and he thrust into you at that same angle.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched. “Aw, does that feel good?” Slash teased in a degrading tone, emphasizing each word with his thrusts. “Gonna cum on me?” You whined loudly and Slash laughed. “Go on then, cum.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Cum on daddy’s dick.”

Something about it pushed you over the edge, racking your body in pleasure and heat as Slash kept rutting into you, looking for his own high.

Your whining got louder as you became overstimulated, holding onto him tighter. “Hah-hm, please.”

“Please, what?” Slash grunted. His rhythm was losing itself as he neared the edge.

“Please, daddy, need it so bad.” He hid his face in the crook of your neck, his hips still snapping into yours a last few times as he came inside you.

He refused to let go of you, shifting the two of you so you were curled up against him, partially laying on top of him while he kissed your forehead and cheeks, the tip of your nose.

He let you sleep as he kept driving. When you woke up it was dark and you were outside a big house on a mountain. Slash had gotten you into his shirt, it was big and comfortable and smelled like him. Slash was in the drivers seat, laying back and lazily playing with your hair.

“Where are we?” You mumbled, looking over at him.

Slash perked up at hearing your voice and turned to face you. “My house.” He said, still playing with your hair. “You didn’t give me a place to go.”

You gave a small hum. “Your place is fine.”

He helped you of the car, giving you his jacket and wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm. “You’re not going back there.” He mumbled, kissing the back of your neck sweetly.

[sxfterhearts]

cookies, necklaces and pigtails

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol bf!jiung x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: (very self indulgent) flufffffff

♡ summary: jiung, the ever-loving, sweet boyfriend, meets your extended family for the first time. whilst the rest of the family has reservations against him, your four year old cousin is already a huge fan (read: he may or may not have promised her chocolate chip cookies).

♡ word count: 2,327 words

♡ a/n: thank you sooo much to @hyungseos-cafe for making the moodboard that inspired this :))

//

The sun was shining warmly on the well-kept garden beyond the kitchen windows, providing the roses and herbs your aunt tenderly cared for with some much-needed light to grow and flourish. Your head rested on your palms, watching a stray butterfly breeze past before stopping to admire the white roses. You knew you should’ve been paying attention, but your aunt has been going on and on since the mains were served, so you let her faux-saccharine words slip past you: in one ear, out the other.

You tried to subtly twist your head around in search of your boyfriend, but you didn’t have to look too hard – Jiung stuck out like a sore thumb. His bleached, grey hair bobbing up and down as he helped your mother with the dishes, sleeves of his freshly steamed jacket rolled to expose his lithe, veiny forearms. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and he flashed you an apologetic smile, wordlessly urging you to return your attention to your aunt. After all, he was always the more sensible, responsible and mature one out of the two of you. The exchange only lasted a few seconds though, before his attention was pulled away by your mother. You only caught a glimpse, but you could tell your boyfriend was listening attentively to her, respectfully nodding at all the right places and providing insightful answers. He was such an angel.

Your attention was torn away by your aunt. “Y/N,” she called your name sternly and you cringed. Even your mother had stopped using that particular tone on you years ago.

“Hmm?”

“Are you even listening? Daydreaming again, aren’t you?” She sighed, as though you had dragged your family’s honour through the mud, yet again. “First, you take a break from school. Now, you’re dating that boy? Tell me, are you even serious about him?”

“Imo!”

“Don’t Imo me! I’m asking because it’s what everyone else wants to know as well. They’re just too afraid to ask you about it. So? What’s your answer?”

It was your turn to sigh this time, rolling your eyes for added effect. Why did your family always have to be like this? “Yes, I’m serious! What makes you think I’m not?”

Your aunt tsked in response. “Young love. You will understand when you’re older. You think love will last forever, just because he promised you the world, then one day he wakes up and realises that actually, he doesn’t love you anymore. These things never last, Y/N. Trust me – especially not when they look like that.”

You had to summon all your willpower to not react impulsively in a physical way, fists coming under the kitchen bench to ball into tight fists. Why on earth were your relatives treating your boyfriend with such disrespect when all he ever did since stepping past those doors was be respectful and helpful and friendly? He even went above and beyond by insisting on buying pastries for dessert, to help set up the picnic tables outside and was even washing the dishes. You were fuming on his behalf. “Thanks… for the advice, Imo. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.” You gritted your teeth, pushing the words out your mouth as you spun quickly on the balls of your feet, eager to get out of the conversation before you said something you couldn’t take back.

On the way to the bathroom, you spotted your boyfriend wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as your mother busied herself with arranging dessert. You hurriedly informed her that you were stealing your boyfriend from her as you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in the direction of the entertainment room.

Your boyfriend complied easily, knowing that something was up the moment you stepped foot into the house. Family was always a touchy subject for you, he knew that much. You got along well with your parents, especially since moving out. Being an only child, the distance certainly helped prevent you from getting smothered by your parents’ love and attention. However, your extended family was a whole different story. Today was the annual family gathering to get your mum’s side of the family together, and you dreaded it every year, like clockwork. Having moved out of the bubble your mum’s family grew up in when you were in primary school, you found it more and more challenging with each passing year to relate to any of your relatives. You found it even harder to put up with their neverending nosiness and nagging.

You’d been to this house many times since your infancy. You knew that as the adults gathered around the dining table and kitchen area, the kids preferred to play amongst themselves outdoors in the garden, leaving the rest of the spacious house empty. 

You breathed an audible sigh of relief as the two of you entered the empty entertainment room hand in hand. You turned around, launching into a rant, “Jiung, I’m so sorry – I know I warned you, but I should’ve seen this coming. It’s just, they’re so, urgh! They’re so annoying! This happens every single year. If it’s not – how did you do in school, it’s – which university did you apply to or what major are you studying. Then it was – what do you do for work, and do you have a boyfriend, or when are you getting married, just…” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, fingers pinching your nose bridge and closing your eyes to compose yourself, trying to contain your frustration. 

As you took several deep breaths, you felt your boyfriend snake his arms around you, his familiar scent mixed with aftershave infiltrating your senses. You could even make out the faint aroma of chocolate chip cookies lingering on his clothes, the aftermath of his brief baking session with your mother. You could feel your tense limbs loosen slightly.

“Y/N,” He said your name, and it made your legs feel like the green and red bits of Jell-O resting in the fridge, waiting to be devoured by your kid cousins. You felt yourself melt even more in his arms as he lightly pressed his pillowy lips against your forehead. “It’s fine, really.”

“But…” You replied in nothing more than a mere whisper. “I feel bad… We were meant to have a relaxing long weekend away at my parents’, who, by the way,” your fingers came to play with the silver necklace hanging around his slim neck out of habit. “Thank goodness – are perfectly normal. How could I forget that we had to visit the rest of the family this weekend?” You huffed, lips forming into what Jiung thought was the most irresistible pout. You were clearly disappointed that your weekend away had not gone as you imagined.

“It’s definitely okay. Besides,” He paused to tug your bottom lip out of the pout and tuck your fringe behind your ears. “I like making cookies. And your mum and I make a good dishwashing team.” Jiung gave you one of his smiles, the ones that make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy, and you couldn’t help but return it with a gummy smile of your own. He always seemed to have this sort of effect on you, always able to disarm your short fuse and bring you back down to earth with a warm touch and a tender smile.

“Eonnie!”

“Oh?” The two of you have never pulled away so fast, basically separating from each other at the speed of light. 

“Looks like we have a visitor.” Jiung announced, turning towards the entrance to find your youngest cousin, a little three year-old girl dressed in a pink princess dress and pigtails. “Hello, little one.”

“Oppa!” You could tell the little girl, Haeun, was way more interested in playing with your boyfriend than you. “Cookies!” That must’ve been why. Jiung told her he was baking cookies with your mum after family lunch, which clearly piqued her interest.

“They’re not ready yet, little one. Do you want other desserts instead? We chopped up some fruit earlier as well.” Jiung replied in a soft voice that was gentler and sweeter than usual. You smiled, watching as he lowered himself to her height, approaching her with a tiny wave, which she returned.

“No fruit, I want cookies.” She replied adamantly.

“I see stubbornness runs in the family.” Jiung teased under his breath, soft enough only for your ears. You laughed in response as you looked around for something to preoccupy your baby cousin. It was an entertainment room after all, surely there would be some books, or a soft toy…

“What’s that?” Haeun asked, curious.

“What’s what?” Jiung replied, now sitting cross-legged next to the girl. You could practically hear the smile in his voice. It seemed like your youngest cousin had your boyfriend wrapped around her little finger.

“This one, it’s shiny!” She took a few quick steps towards him before collapsing and melting into his outstretched arms, fingers coming to grab at the sparkly pendant of his necklace.

It was your second anniversary gift. Jiung had always liked jewellery, and would occasionally talk about how he’d always wanted to wear more accessories but didn’t know how or where to start curating pieces to match his outfits. You offered up your own collection of silvers and golds, but opted to get him a silver necklace when he graduated from borrowing your rings and necklaces (in reality, he had misplaced one too many chains and you were starting to run low) – his had a silver sun pendant, while yours was a matching gold. 

“Oh, this?” He glanced down at the pendant. “It’s a sun. Y/N has a matching one. She got it for me as a present.”

“Bingo!” You cheered as you found a bunch of crayons held together with hair ties and a few pieces of paper (you didn’t question it, knowing that your aunt had two toddlers herself which threatened her vision of running the perfect, tidy household). “Do you want to draw a necklace for yourself, Haeun?”

She nodded happily, running over to you and plopping down on the floor. The three of you gathered together and began to pick out your favourite crayon colours. As you settled on drawing and colouring, you pretended to hide your artworks from each other if one of you dared to sneak a glance at the other’s, leading to several fits of laughs and giggles.

Haeun, ever the observant child, noticed that your boyfriend kept having to brush his hair away from his face while his lanky body was hunched over his drawing. She reached out with grabby hands and tried to comb chunks of his silvery locks into a makeshift ponytail. 

You could see her vision, and couldn’t help but to smile at the sweet interaction. “Here, let me help.”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend looked up at the two of you, slightly confused.

It wasn’t like it was his first rodeo. You often held his hair back with a headband before cooking or washing his face, and sometimes tied his hair up for him when he was busy doing work. With Haeun working on one side and you on the other, you two girls fashioned Jiung’s hair into two (slightly mismatched) pigtails.

After a few more minutes of silent colouring, “I’m done!” Haeun declared, setting down her crayon. She held out her masterpiece, exhibiting it excitedly to you and your boyfriend. “See, it’s us!”

Indeed, your baby cousin had drawn you and your boyfriend, holding hands, and a little girl next to them, in a pink dress much like the one she was currently wearing. All three of you had bunny-looking ears, presumably to match the pigtails, and matching necklaces. You and Jiung showed her your artwork, but unanimously agreed that Haeun’s was the best out of the three. You made a mental note to go necklace shopping for her later today.

“Haeun! Haeun?” The voice of her mother, your younger (and favourite) aunt, filtered through the hallways.

“She’s in here!”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you were outsi – Oh!” Your aunt stood at the doorway, pleasantly surprised at how well-behaved her active daughter was. “You got her to sit down. Great job guys!”

“Look, mummy! We drew some pictures!” Haeun ran towards her mother’s feet, passing her the drawing before hugging her feet.

“Wow, you did a great job, sweetie! Are those necklaces?”

“Yes, oppa said eonnie gave it to him as a present.”

The two of you stole glances at each other, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Did she? Well, your Y/N eonnie must like Jiung oppa very much. Speaking of which,” Your younger aunt turns towards you and Jiung. “I think she’s disturbed the two of you enough now. I’ll distract her with some cookies so you two can get some alone time.” She flashed a knowing smile, and you had to fight the urge to combust in embarrassment.

“We had lots of fun playing with her, imo.”

“Oh, I see she’s done your hair too! And the necklaces, you’re wearing them. Ah, young love,” She sighed wistfully. “How adorable.”

“Cookies! Mummy, I want cookies!”

//

epilogue.

“So, how many do you want?” Jiung asked under his breath, feigning nonchalance whilst his lips worked itself into a sheepish grin.

“How many what?” You asked, distracted. You were trying to find the covers for takeaway containers amongst the pile of dishes.

“Kids, of course.”

A soft clang echoed throughout the now-empty kitchen as you dropped the empty container. Your cheeks reddened so much that when Jiung turned around to check on you after a long silence, he had to cool them down with his hands, which were freezing cold from handling the ice box.

“Too soon?” He couldn’t help but tease, chuckling to himself at your stunned expression.

You nodded.

After a few beats, you whispered, “two, maybe.”

[sciderman]

Sooooo, ... If you could be in a romantic relationship with Peter or Wade, who would you choose?.

(you can pick both of them, add more people in the mixture, you can even pick all marvel universe, but I would love you to describe how do you imagine the relationship would work with each of them)

i... hough, man. i don't know if i'd like to be in a romantic relationship with either of them. i... i don't know what kind of love i'd thrive in because – well, i've never been in a long-term relationship, and i've never been in any sort of relationship where my partner resembled either of them. people ask if i write at all based on my experiences and – no, i don't. i don't think anything i've experienced has a lot to do with what i write - though, i think it's backwards. sometimes later on in the line something i write starts to manifest in reality in some way. i hope i'm able to manifest something good.

i don't know if i want what wade and peter have, specifically - their love isn't perfect - it's unhealthy - but... i don't know, i think everyone wants to have someone in their life that is fascinated by you. and that you're fascinated with them. i think that's the thing i love about wade and peter's love - they are so, so fascinated by each other. almost to a grotesque degree.

they complete each other in that sort of a way. they want what each other has. they're obsessed with each other. obsessed with unravelling the mysteries of each other, because they can make each other better. wade's obsessed with understanding peter, because peter's a better version of him. peter's someone wade admires, because he's heroic, and brave, and he overcomes. and wade's someone peter admires, because he's bold, and unafraid, and he overcomes. i think that's the thing - they admire each other because they see themselves in each other, and see each other overcoming - and, i don't know, they inspire each other, or something gay like that. they're stronger together, because they're reflections of each other, and "if he can do it, i can do it."

i'd love that – someone who makes me feel braver when i'm with them. someone who i feel so comfortable with, because they're just like me, and i can be me, and they get it, and i can be more me than i've ever been before.

you always filter yourself with other people. i... god, do i just want to be around people that make me feel comfortable. who i just – totally let loose with, and i don't have to worry about staying palatable with. i don't have to worry about being too much – i don't know, i've rarely been in a relationship where i've felt that degree of comfort. there's always been caveats. i've always had to pretend. and i – i don't know, i'm sick of pretending.

i think peter loves in a very similar way to how i do, maybe. and his failings in romance and relationships are very familiar, i think. that people see him as admirable, or heroic or cool, and it turns out that - actually, he's simple, and fallible, and not very good at keeping up. he's sappy, and kind of perpetually afraid. it's all familiar. i think i've ruined a lot of relationships by not being as confident as people wanted me to be. by not being emotionally ready - by being, actually, a bit of a loser. i think that's another thing i love about wade and peter, the way i write them - they're perpetually patient with each other. they'll wait. if they're not ready now, they will be.

gentle pressure - they always give each other gentle pressure to get past their fears. to be braver. it's okay to be afraid, but together, we'll get past it. together, we'll overcome.

i want some of that. i don't know. i have a lot of people in my life who tend to make me feel scared. make me feel more afraid. and very few people who make me feel stronger. but i did find those people eventually. it's possible. it's so, so wonderful to be around people who make you brave. i hope we all find that.

[khunyuki]

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ᴍᴀɪɴ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 3. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎?

Synopsis: Hoshina Soshiro has always been gentle with Uzui Kagami but after a passionate night where pent up feelings were released (both emotional and physical), his treatment of her has never been better.

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Fiancee!OC

Note/s: This is kinda short since I actually dunno what I should put here and I do think it wasn't delivered properly but at least I tried hahaha. I did not expect that to happen midway though 🤭

Genre: Aftercare, Fluff

Masterlist: TOC, Previous, Next

Whispering I love you's to each other, holding them close and not letting them go, just showing them how much they deserve to experience great things in whatever shape or form. Love isn't all about the physicality of it. It's also on the small things along with the big things. Most importantly, both have to feel it, be in the spiritual or emotional aspect of it, intellectual or practical, physical or sexual. No matter what your love language may be.

Hoshina Soshiro caressed his fiancee's resting face, thinking of how lucky he was to have her. He traced all of the marks he decorated her bare body with as he recalled the acts they did that night. He still remember clearly how he lost control of himself after their first time, having longed for her for years yet never acting on it until then. How it lasted until morning when his body could no longer handle the exhaustion that accumulated from the entire day along with that night workout.

However, that was only his selfish desire. Never once did he forget the situation that led up to that moment. He had always prioritized her feelings more than his just like she always did with him. While he wishes she could forget it and finally move on, he knew it wasn't that easy. He could only give her his words and actions that promises to stay by her side no matter what.

"What are you thinking?"

She looked up to his face from her position on his chest, her favorite was hearing his heartbeat up close. Her fingers rubbing circles on his bare chest tracing upwards to his face. Her favorite part of his face was his smiling eyes that would sometimes open whenever he says or thinks of something serious. His eyes that remains closed is a big part of his charm, something that always makes her heart flutter. Well, everything he does always makes her swoon, something not exclusive to his eyes.

"I'm thinking about you"

See, he knows exactly how to get to her, feeling her own heart beating faster. He doesn't have to do anything, just show her that smile of his and she's dead. A small sound beeping somehow interrupted the moment, it was the bath he prepared when he got up earlier to bring her water to drink and wipe her down with a towel. Until now, he thought it was such a waste to wipe away the mixture of their cum that continued to drip down her pussy due to how full it was.

"Do you want to take a bath?"

Kagami said yes and Soshiro carried her up like a princess to the bathroom. The sunlight peeking through the curtains in the living room as they passed through it. Seeing her illuminated by the sun, he falls even more at how the brightness fits her really well.

He placed her down the water first before sitting behind her, placing her in between his legs. The water was just in the right temperature to hit the spot and they relaxed in each other's arms once more.

Kagami turned around to face his way and started to massage his scalp, after pumping shampoo on her hands. Soshiro sighed at the comfortable feeling of her hands, laughing at how she tried to style his hair in different ways with full concentration. He does the same to her, having more options due to her long hair until it turned to a competition. They then scrubbed each other's bodies which almost turned to another round of activities but prevented themselves by playing in the water.

After washing, they changed their clothes with her wearing his in an oversized fashion. Soshiro would've squeezed her tightly for how cute she was but settled on just teasing her. They dried each other's hairs which made them drowsy despite it being morning so they settled for resting in the guest room as his room was still pretty messy. Then they slept peacefully at each other's arms, not minding anything but themselves.

It was already late in the afternoon when Soshiro woke up alone in the bed, without his lover by his side. He could hear the soft rumbling of the washing machine and the sound of cooking with the smell of something burning greeting his nose.

Alert, he got up and went to the kitchen to see his lover making them late lunches, with her still in his clothes. She immediately greeted him like it was the most normal thing to do, as if she didn't just toss something burnt on the plate on the counter and cracked another egg on the pan.

"Good morning, Soshiro. Did you sleep well?"

"Uh-huh, shame you weren't there when I woke up. Though I don't mind if I get to see you like this everyday"

His heart squeezed at how domestic it was. They really were like a married couple right now. Though he wanted to just hug her tightly having just woken up, he had to salvage their foods. He removed his arms around her and told her to just leave the cooking to him. She gave a pout but relented as cooking was not her specialty, cutting was. She really doesn't want to accidentally poison him again even if he said whatever she cooks was delicious.

She went to get the laundry so she could hang it on the veranda along with their clothes that was washed first. Then eagerly waited for him to finish cooking so they could eat together. He just cooked a simple lunch given the time, some eggs, fish, and rice, along with miso soup. He was thankful for her doing the rice and soup properly for it would've taken even longer if she didn't.

They just talked about things as they ate. Most of the talking was done by her this time while he just listen, replying in the most playful way. Then he'd talk about something funny that happened in his division to which she'll laugh and eagerly listen to. It's just how they usually spend their time whenever they're together. And after eating, they washed the dishes together.

"Don't you think we're like a married couple like this?"

She asked him with the shyest smile on her face. Thinking about it already made her blush but saying it, she was kinda nervous still.

"Is this you saying you wanted to get married now?"

He turned to her, with his eyebrows wriggling which made her laugh, splashing him with the water droplets from her hands with him reciprocating it.

"Of course! It's something I've always wanted!"

She pretended to pout yet still smiled brightly from the giddiness. She knew she was getting ahead of herself but that doesn't mean she'll stop. She then gave him an understanding smile as she resumed to the last plate.

"Though I'm fine even if it's not now. I've waited a long time so I can wait even longer"

The smile on his face dropped as he frowned his brows in concentration. He wiped his hands then he told her to wait as he went to his room to get something.

"Wait a minute"

Kagami was confused but she didn't think there was anything wrong as she finished cleaning up and went to sit on the sofa. She wonders what he's up to when he kneeled down in front of her after returning.

"Soshiro?"

He took her left hand and gave it a gentle rub, focusing on her ring finger.

"Ever since I was a child, I've only ever lived with blade in my mind then you happened. Entering my life at such a young age then proceeded to stay with me until this very moment. You have always been by my side and you keep occupying my mind every single day"

Somehow, tears were welling up in Kagami's eyes, her free hand covering her mouth as he continued. His mouth telling her how much she meant to him, his wishes and promises, smoothly coming out like he's been practicing this the whole time. He proposed to her with his eyes just on her, not even hesitating nor wavering. Then he showed her the ring he bought a very long time ago.

"This time with no family members to arrange our engagement. This time I only ask just for the two of us. Will you marry me?"

Even before he asked those words she's been nodding her head the whole time. Her tears never once stopping at all even as she wiped it over and over.

"Of course. I'll be glad to"

As she watched him slip the ring on her finger, she greeted him with a kiss full of love and affection. Something Soshiro laughed at, from how eager she was, his own heart feeling giddy.

They just lounged at the living room with his arms wrapped around her as she admired her ring. Of course they have rings provided by their own families but they never really wore it as it didn't bear much significance towards them other as it is also banned at work. But this time, it was her own engagement ring, given to her by her lover. There's no way she's letting it leave her side even at work. She just has to hide it and protect it properly.

"Are you that happy?"

She could only nod, not once taking her eyes off the ring. Soshiro only chuckles at her again. He really should've done this a long time ago but never had any chance to with how busy they were. Marrying her was a given fact and something he really did want to do as well. It really was only circumstances that let them postpone it like this for so long that it put pressure on her. That was his only regret, making other people pressure her for his inaction.

The peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a call from his apartment phone. They looked at each other first before he got up to take it.

"This is Hoshina"

He pressed the telephone on is ear and he could hear some soft mumblings before...

"HO-SHI-NAAAA"

He knows the owner of the deep, scary voice coming from the other side of the phone that made him stood stiffly.

"C-captain"

A flash of realization appears on Kagami's eyes as she watches her fiance sweat buckets like someone who's been caught in an act of mischief. She couldn't help but laugh at his uncharacteristic behaviour watching him try to explain his situation, trying to keep his poise but failing. She went to his now clean room to fetch their own phones that she's been charging after waking up but never opened. She knew exactly what was awaiting her the moment she opens her phone, after all.

She just opened his own while waiting for him to finish his call. Nobody would believe her if she told them that the workaholic vice captain of the third division actually forgot he has work, y'know. Keeping the silly thought in her head, she saw how many missed calls and messages he had from his colleagues and captain for skipping work. She would've replied to it all but that's invasion of privacy so she just settled for looking at his gallery.

"Are you done?"

She asked as soon as she heard him finish speaking and put the telephone down. He turned to her with a frown and a full-blown pout.

"You were laughing at me, weren't you?"

She thought she was too cute but when the slight giggle left her, she tried to hide it by covering her mouth but it was too late.

"No?"

He instantly got to her side and tickled her as punishment for trying to tease him. It was her laughter that once again brought light and joy to his apartment.

"What did she say?"

She asked after they settled down. Of course she was still jealous of Mina but she was already reassured by his words from earlier. She knew that his captain values the rules and order very much and that their relationship is strictly colleagues. The jealousy as just a her overthinking thing.

"She asked why I skipped work today after leaving so suddenly last night and to tell her beforehand about it. Then said that it's fine since there weren't any kaiju reports today but expect to be disciplined when I got back"

She's really glad that she always take her days off for 2 days in a row so she could never experience what he just did.

"You're already the vice captain yet you're still getting disciplined. What a naughty superior you are~"

"Well if my little platoon leader didn't try to seduce her superior then maybe he wouldn't get scolded?"

They both challenged each other in a teasing tone, maintaining a smirk on each other's faces. Though like always, it is Kagami who loses when she heard him call her 'my little platoon leader' even though they weren't in the same division anymore. As just the thought makes her so happy like a little kid.

"It's still early so do you wanna go on a date?"

Nodding her head, Kagami left to go get changed. She took their clothes from the veranda and went inside his room so she could wear her freshly washed kimono. Despite visiting his place sometimes, this was the first time she ever stayed the night so there were no extra set clothes for her here.

Soshiro, having been left on the living room, took her phone and opened it to see unpleasant messages that came from her family. He left them an incredibly long message with the implications of...

'This is Hoshina Soshiro. Please refrain from contacting my fiancee any further nor should you try to visit her at work if you do not wish to see me angry.'

Then blocked their contacts from her phone, deleted the unpleasant texts; then went to get ready himself, changing into a yukata himself to match with her.

They left his apartment and they just walked around town, window shopping at every store they passed by. Their hands interlocked with each other the entire time. Then they entered a cafe that she insisted in, ordering Mont Blanc for him and Eclair for her. They ate sweet treats that complements the sweet atmosphere they're exuding.

He then asked her if she wanted to live with him, to which she answered positively. She no longer has to commute for so long just to go back to a suffocating environment.

This time, she's going back home to him.

<- Previous Next ->

[taintandviolent]

Little Mouth ; Roman Godfrey x Reader

summary: Reader has been working for Roman Godfrey for a month now as his personal assistant / secretary. Their interactions have been... mostly professional. That is, until Roman figures out that she has a blood kink.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.1K | blood kink, blood consumption, (technically) blood as lube, unprotected sex, rough sex, finger sucking, biting (he is an upir afterall), mind control.

a/n: requested by @babygorewhore! feast, baby! my first RG fic, be gentle. I tried really hard to get his characterization right, so dahsdfekjdsafs. i hope everyone likes it! divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

“You wanted to see me, sir?” The glass door shut behind you soundlessly. Almost everyone had gone from the Institute, you were always one of the last ones to leave, per Mr. Godfrey’s instructions. 

“Sit down,” he demanded. He was in a mood today - you could tell. Plus, you’d heard him yelling at someone earlier, his temper flaring over some menial task. Your ass hit the leather seat before he could continue. You’d only been working for him for a month, but in that short time, you’d seen Roman’s very volatile nature. Whenever he didn’t get his way… simply put, he got it. You never wanted to be at the receiving end of his rage, far more keen on remaining on his good side, the side that made you his favourite employee. Or so you liked to think. 

Pushing himself off the chair, he straightened his long legs, standing up and quickly rounding the corner of his desk, closing in the distance between the two of you. Although you were fully aware of how tall he was, when he stood next to you, his size never ceased to startle you. Additionally, with you sitting and him standing, the size difference was even more evident. This wasn’t the first time he’d been this close – Roman had a habit of always just being there when you least expected it – but it was the first time that you felt him press his hipbone against you, and the first time he reached forward to brush your silken locks off your shoulder. 

You shivered against his touch, doing everything in your power not to drop your face into his large palm and whine against his skin, begging him to touch you again. You hated that you were so weak for him, but he had an unimaginable effect on you and had from the first day you met him. Which, you remembered, so clearly… 

It had been raining, pouring actually, and by the time you got to Roman Godfrey’s office, you were drenched. A ‘wet rat of a secretary’ was a great first look. He’d smirked at your appearance, and made a flippant comment about arriving to work looking presentable, though judging by the way his eyes lingered on your clothing as it stuck to your body in all the right places, he wasn’t too put off. Despite you having three interviews for the position, as soon as you’d made it to his office, he’d interrogated you about your dedication to the position, asking bizarre questions about loyalty, claiming that you were, after all, his personal assistant.

Every time you tried to look away from him, he pulled you back wordlessly and those piercing green eyes held you tightly, like a rabbit in a wolf’s jaws. 

“You like it, don’t you?” 

Feigning innocence – something you know he picked up on – you raised your big, soft eyes to his, suckling your bottom lip delicately before speaking. Though, this time, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about. “Like what, Mr. Godfrey?” 

“Stand up, Y/N.” 

You stood, hands obediently clasped in front of your skirt. He liked ordering you around and did it often. Every time he did, your core clenched, arousal gripping your insides tightly. At risk of being unprofessional, you deeply loved the way he sounded when he said your name, demanding that you do this or that. 

Without looking behind him, Roman reached for the letter opener on his desk, wrapping his long, lithe fingers around the handle. Holding it in front of your face, he jammed the meat of his thumb onto the sharp tip. Hot blood welled out from the small puncture and dribbled down the length of his thumb. Uncontrollably, your pupils dilated, watching as the blood streamed. How had he figured that out? You tried to remember all the times you’d spoken, and a devious blood kink was never a topic of conversation. Suddenly, it hit you. Last week.

You had an armful of files, ready to plant them on Roman’s desk. You shouldered open the door, and he stood there, in front of his desk, dragging his hand underneath his nose; a deep streak of crimson was left in its place. You felt your heart rate quicken, watching as the blood smeared onto his hand. You couldn’t help but stare, you have always been so fascinated with blood. The thought of it turned you on, though you’d never admit that out loud.

Roman brought you back to reality by dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the warm crimson across your already pink lips. Your bodies were flush against each other, and the steel grip he had on you ached. Roman’s nostrils flared; even his own, the smell of it drove him crazy. 

Another second passed, and he was devouring you. You gasped into the kiss; there was nothing subtle or slow about the way he was kissing you – literally, chewing and sucking and scrubbing his tongue over your lips, removing every trace of his own blood from your mouth. You were out of breath almost immediately, and forced out a hard breath, pressing your tongue against his, feeling the wet muscle react and tangle with yours. 

Suddenly, Roman’s teeth bit down on the plushness of your bottom lip and iron flooded your mouth. The taste of your blood mixed with whatever was left on his tongue was metallic and heady, and you moaned into his mouth, unable to withhold it any longer. You were almost disgusted with yourself, craving the taste of blood like some starved, unhinged, horror-movie vampire, but the way that he kissed and tasted you had your cunt throbbing beneath your red satin underwear. 

His hand gripping the nape of your neck hard, Roman pulled you away from his mouth, looking pointedly at you. Those big green eyes… you whimpered, craning back towards him. He responded by stretching his neck away, almost as if he was annoyed with your desperation. 

“You fucking like it, don’t you?” 

You nodded, hot and breathless.

“Say it. I want to hear those words leave that little mouth.”

“I…” you wavered, unsure.

“You’re going to be honest with me.” Roman’s eyes bored into yours, enveloping you. A hazy warmth blanketed you, to where all you could feel was confidence bubbling up in your chest; it surged through you like a wave, drowning out all other thoughts. Even if you’d wanted to think of something else, you somehow… couldn’t. “I fucking like it. I want more of it.” 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” 

“Yes. I have since I started working for you.” Your voice was laced with lust and desperation, despite being surprised that you had just admitted all that to him. Surely, that could get you fired. You were usually so meek, so timid, always polite. If Roman ever stared a little too long, you’d blush and look back to whatever busy work was on your desk. You weren’t the type to just openly say your innermost thoughts… until now, apparently. 

After searching your eyes for a moment, Roman’s lips were back on yours, his demanding tongue forcing its way into your mouth again, and you whimpered, throwing both your arms around his neck to hoist yourself closer to him. You finally had him and you weren’t letting go. It didn’t matter to you that he was your boss, you’d been waiting weeks for this kind of attention. You’d dreamt about it; thinking about the warm, inviting way he’d taste. Though, your dreams hardly compared to the way that he actually tasted. You tried to come up with some poetic description, but all you could think of was… blood. And sex.

Mimicking your interest, his arms wrapped around you, strong hands feverishly moving from your hips, to your breasts, to your ass. One hand drifted to your legs, fingers trailing up and around one of your thighs until they reached your warm mound. Effortlessly, the pad of his middle finger found your slit, stroking it lightly over the slickened fabric.

“Fuck, please!” Your lips disconnected from him to moan loudly, as your hips bucked into his hand. Roman responded, enveloping your cunt in his palm. He gripped her, massaging the ball of his hand against her, while the tips of his fingers pushed against your opening, still restricted by the fabric. At the threat of penetration, a mewling whine erupted from your throat.

Roughly, Roman ripped your blouse apart. The buttons flew somewhere, never to be found again, and you gasped, feeling exposed. But oh… it would only get worse. He backed away from you, watching silently. His gaze was cold and unreadable, but the corners of his mouth were upturned in the faintest smile. “Take it off. Take it all off. Now.” 

Desperate to have him back in your arms, you got to work, shrugging the silk blouse from your shoulders, and unclasping your bra from behind. Just as he’d thought; you wore a bra with no padding, only satin fabric. The Institute was kept fairly cold for obvious reasons, and your nipples were always poking through your thin blouses. You let your breasts fall free while Roman watched, hungrily devouring you with his eyes, his pink lips pursed, and pushing forward slightly. His fingers reached to your chest, ghosting over your cleavage. You undid the zipper of your skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Now, in nothing but your red underwear and your heels, you were almost entirely exposed. The chill of the room met your skin, leaving goose flesh over every exposed inch. 

He was suddenly gone from your line of sight, leaving nothing but your pathetic whimper in its place. Behind you, you heard him return to his desk, swiftly opening up a drawer and retrieving something. You didn’t dare turn around; he hadn’t told you to. You heard a drawer slide shut quietly. Then, he was in front of you again, a blood bag pinched tauntingly between his thumb and forefinger.

With a hint of smirk, Roman set the bag next to you on the desk, and pulled his shirt from his trousers before unbuttoning each button, and throwing the shirt off his shoulders. Your eyes widened, taking in their fill of his body. He was slender, but muscular, and his torso seemed to go on forever. He retrieved the bag, allowing it sway in front of your face. The bodily liquid inside was thick and tempting. 

“I brought it from the storage room,” he explained, unclipping the bottom of it. Red flowed through the tiny tube, and without hesitating, Roman brought it to his lips, letting it dribble over his mouth and chin. Your jaw dropped; you were in awe of the visual in front of you – your cunt clenched, your slick had fully soaked your underwear at this point, and the ache that was buried deep inside your walls was screaming to be found.

Inside, Roman felt the fiery lust blossoming. His cock was hard and his hunger had been piqued, a lethal combination. You’d been coyly toting yourself around the Institute for the past month, with your perky tits and bouncy little ass – he’d had enough. Roman brought the bag above your chest, and squeezed the plastic between his fist, letting the stream coat your tits in the sanguine nectar. It flowed over your nipples and down the curve of your stomach in thin, red tendrils before disappearing into the fabric of your underwear.  

Now covered in blood, Roman’s lithe fingers cupped your tits, smearing the blood over your hard nipples. He leaned down, and swept his tongue up from the meaty curve of one of your breasts up to your collarbone, his tongue leaving a clean trail behind him, repeating the action over and over again, suckling at the hollows of your collarbones. He was consuming so much blood… your thoughts drifted for a moment before Roman realized, and took your face in his blood-stained hand, pinching your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. 

“You’re going to focus on me, stop fucking going somewhere else.” 

“I’m…” 

“You’re a good little secretary who is going to do whatever I tell her.” 

You nodded eagerly, your pupils dilated and locked on him. There was that haze again, the warm, comforting haze that wrapped its invisible arms around you, guiding you to only feel what Roman instructed you to feel. 

“Back up, against the desk.” You took a few steps blindly backwards until the meat of your ass hit the edge of his desk. 

Bloodied, Roman leaned forward to kiss you again, urging you further against the edge of the desk while he busied his hands with undoing his suit pants. Once undone, he pulled his aching cock free and roughly yanked your panties over the curve of your hips, exposing your cunt.

“Fuck, you’re so wet...” he murmured, his bloody finger slipping between your folds to come in contact with your wet, puffy clit. He traced small circles on it, immediately bringing your sensitivity up to dangerous levels. Your legs quivered, feet making tiny little steps to try to writhe away from him. “You really do have a thing for this, don’t you? Such a whore.” 

Your cheeks flushed at his words, though you couldn’t deny them. You nodded again, looking down at his hand buried between your legs, unable to formulate words with how he was pleasuring you. His jaw clenched, the muscles feathering on the side of his face. The smell of the blood and your cunt was intoxicating, and hit his nostrils hard. He needed you and he needed you now. 

“Look at me.” He instructed, purposefully distracting you as he lined his dick up with your waiting slit. 

Giving you no time to prepare, Roman slammed his cock into you, bottoming out. Your expression was one of pain and pleasure, dangerously mixed. He paused briefly to revel in the sensation of your sopping cunt clenching around his shaft, but quickly backed his hips up, all the way until only his tip remained inside, then dropped his chin to his chest to watch the erotic display as he plunged back in. You wrapped your legs around his waist, opening your cunt up further for him.

“Moan. Loud.” His voice was deeper, huskier than before and his darkened eyes were glued to you.

You did. Louder than you ever had, probably. With each thrust, your fingernails raked along his bare back, leaving slender red lines in the skin. He pushed his cock into you over and over again, his length punishing you in ways that you’d never imagined. The throbbing tip hit your cervix repeatedly and your eyes rolled back in your head, your back arching up. His hands slipped underneath you, long fingers tracing your bare spine delicately, almost. The juxtaposition of how cruelly he was fucking you and his gentle touches had your head spinning. You sucked in a breath and moaned it out, leaning your head back against his desk. You’d never been fucked like this, and suspected that unless it was with Roman, you never would be again. 

Still keeping his rhythm, Roman reached for the almost empty blood bag again, and held it above both of your bodies. As the stream ran down his bare chest and dribbled onto your stomach and your cunt, you lifted your head, looking at him dazedly and half-lidded. You were covered in blood, and so was he. It was a mess, but the mess drove your arousal forward, the scent of sweat, sex and iron filling the frigid room. 

He was fucking you silly, and all you could do was lay back and take it. Without saying a word, but keeping his cold, green gaze on you, he brought the tube to his mouth and squeezed, sucking the rest of it out. You looked at him like it was the most normal thing in the world, even though it wasn’t. You moaned again, feeling the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter. Your orgasm was threatening, and every thrust brought you closer to that white, hot edge. Your body was crying out to let go, and come all over his long, punishing cock. 

You gasped. “Mr. Godfrey… fuck… fuck I’m going to….” 

With a slick pop, Roman withdrew his cock and slapped it against your swollen, tender clit a few times before sinking back into you, your hips shuddering. He reached to the side, scooping up some of the blood that had leaked from the bag onto the table. Abruptly, he brought his coated fingers to your mouth, forcibly pushing them past the obstruction of your lips, the blood smearing into the corners of your mouth. “Suck them.” 

You took his middle and ring finger into your mouth willingly, though he still pushed them against your tongue harshly, the tips hitting the back of your throat. Immediately, the metallic taste was so potent, it almost made you gag, but you withheld, your throat clenching around his fingertips. He thrust into you hard, the friction of his body rubbing against your clit drove you over the edge. You screamed, your legs quivering around him as your cunt pulsated, squeezing him tightly inside of you.

“Good girl...” 

At that visual, his cock twitched inside you, and his once rhythmic pace was erratic. As he emptied into you, painting your walls with his cum, he gripped you so hard that you cried out, jerking forward against his chest. For a moment, your eyes were tainted with fear, begging him to let go, but he didn’t. He gripped harder, bucking his hips up into you until his orgasm calmed. 

Aftwards, Roman returned to his cold, professional and somewhat snotty disposition. He pulled his softening cock from you, tucking it back into his briefs. He took your face in his hand again, pinching hard.

“You’re never going to say a word about this to anyone.” 

You nodded, adjusting as the silk of your blouse stuck to the drying blood. You weren’t sure what had just happened, but all you knew was that your back ached from the fucking, your legs were still shaking and you’d have to spend at least an extra hour in the shower, scrubbing all the blood from your body. Once he released you from his gaze, you bent down, retrieving your skirt from the floor. Surprisingly, you hadn’t gotten much blood anywhere. 

“Mr. Godfrey?” 

“Hm.” 

“Are you going to fire me?” 

“No.” 

There was a promise behind his curtness. There was also an unsaid threat, that if you didn’t want to do that again, he might. 

[stressedanime]

my new favourite headcanon is ace jason grace, and i think it would just fit so well into his character so lemme explain (also creds to @snoelledarts who helped me write this)

As we know, his overall character arc is about struggling against the expectations put on him because of his birthright, being the son of Jupiter. 

This presented itself in two ways: The inherent stigma of being the son of Jupiter/Zeus, and the pressure Camp Jupiter had placed on him to be a perfect soldier/leader

To talk about the stigma first, I want to focus on Jason and Piper’s interactions with Achelous, because it really makes my heart hurt for him.

“Poor thing. Another girl stuck with a son of Zeus.” “Wait a minute,” Jason said. “It’s Jupiter actually. And how does that make her poor thing?” - pg. 335, the Mark of Athena

To summarize: Achelous describes to Jason and Piper how Hercules' died, how he took after Zeus by having affairs and flirting with anything that moved. Then, after catching wind of her husband's infidelity, Hercules’ second wife killed him out of jealousy. Then Achelous warns Piper about Jason being a son of /Zeus/. 

Piper doesn’t even look at Jason after this. She fears for herself, and for what Jason could possibly do just because of his birthright. How do you think that affected Jason at this moment? The horror and fear that he could hurt the people he loves? That it could be inevitable for him to follow in his fathers footsteps? Especially when Piper doubts him at that moment, how could he also not doubt himself? 

Even though at the end of this conflict she shows her dedication and belief in him, that she believes he is better than the people he’s related to, I fear that the doubt was already planted in his head.

Moving onto the pressures that the Romans placed on him, I think it’s important context to look at what happened BEFORE he made it to CJ 

When he was abandoned by his mom at the Wolf House, she promised that she would come back to him, but she never did. 

His mother’s unkempt promise was at the core of who he was. He’d built his whole life around the irritation of her words, like the grain of sand at the center of a pearl. People lie. Promises are broken. That was why, as much as it chafed him, Jason followed rules. He kept his promises. He never wanted to abandon anyone the way he’d been abandoned and lied to. - pg. 31, the Blood of Olympus

So from the absolute beginning of his time in the Legion, he felt a strong need to follow rules, even though another part of him so desperately wanted to break free of them. 

And we know he struggled against the expectations about being a son of Jupiter because of the glimpses we get about his time in the Legion.

This had been the story of my life, he thought bitterly. Everyone had always watched him, expecting him to lead the way. From the moment he’d arrived at Camp Jupiter, the Roman demigods treated him like a prince in waiting. Despite his attempts to alter his destiny–joining the worst cohort, trying to change the camp traditions, taking the least glamorous missions, and befriending the least popular kids–he had been made praetor anyway. As a son of Jupiter, his future had been assured. - pg. 30 the Blood of Olympus

But I want to look at these expectations in a slightly different lens than just being destined to lead. Specifically, I want to look at this in terms of hegemonic masculinity, which is a specific social identity or performance of masculinity that is virtually unattainable. 

This masculinity was very likely part of the pressure that the Romans put onto Jason. This includes the idea that men, ‘real men’, need to be physically superior, money makers, have political power, be conventionally attractive, and use those looks and charms and status to have sex, like a Real Man™️should. 

You just KNOW that these warped ideals, mixed with the expectations of being the son of JUPITER aka horny menace #1 created some fucked up ideals in his head and pressure from others about how he should act.

All of this leads me to the conclusion that an ace Jason Grace would be a natural, and fitting identity, as well as add so much depth to his character

First of all, realizing he’s ace would be a huge relief

Apart from the “oh i’ve finally found language that describes me and my experience” (bc i feel like he’d hear one of his friends mention it during conversation and he’d be like what’s that? and then when they explain it he’d be like huh. interesting. very interesting. and then go home n scour the internet for resources to explain more)

There’d be that part of him that’s like, relieved that there’s a piece of him that inherently separates him from Jupiter’s legacy, in both the way way that Achelous outlined, and the one forced on him by the Romans

Jason who rejects that side of being related to his father, to being Roman, to being this glorified version of himself that doesn't exist. Jason who gets to relax and live without the fear that he's anything like his father. 

Also, this could work completely with how his and Piper’s relationship played out. They truly did love each other despite the godly meddling, but their circumstances didn’t set them up to last.  

And maybe… maybe their relationship worked so well for Jason, because of Piper's sexuality. 

Piper isn't really into guys like that (Jason maybe being an exception because of the memories from hera or because of specific circumstances/the kind of person Jason is), and Jason isn't really... into people like that and so he doesn't see anything weird about how Piper is either?

They're both not correct about their sexualities and maybe trying to cover it up which is what made their relationship kinda functional for a while because neither of them were pushing for anything super romantic or over the top or sexual

I feel like I could even pull from the Cupid scene to support this

If this invisible guy was Love, then Jason was beginning to think love was overrated. He liked Pipers version better - considerate, kind, and beautiful. pg. 289, the House of Hades

Considerate is SUCH a specific word choice. Especially when we know that considerate is the antithesis to everything Jupiter is. 

AND it’s the antithesis to everyone else in Jason’s life. Do you ever think the Romans were ever considerate to him? Likely not. They just expected him to perform, like a son of Jupiter should.

Therefore, his relationship with Piper was perfect for him, because she didn’t see him as a son of Jupiter. She saw him as Jason Grace, her best friend.

And if he ever does find a partner, he’d have the confidence and ability to be upfront about his sexuality because he won’t be pressured by expectations like that again. 

The relief of knowing intimacy looks a little different for him, and the relief of like, letting people be gentle and soft, with him and that’s all that’s expected. That's all he needs, and no one else feels he needs to go further either. He can just breathe.

That’s what Jason Grace deserves.

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Double Jeopardy

Story Plot: You are Serenity, an identical twin. Your sister, Trinity, has a man at home named Erik Stevens, but he's in the way of her date with Cabo. She enlists you to keep him on ice until she gets back.

*Now that you know Serenity, Trinity, and Erik, let's move forward into the actual plot. This is Part 2.

Written for @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

TRINITY.

What was the best way to tell her sister that Tony was trash without outright admitting that she got Serenity to go out with a wifebeater so that she could string him along and keep getting gifts out of him? She couldn't be honest or Ren would spaz. Besides, it's not like she was living with him. She was using him, that was all.

'You don't want him, trust me,' she replied, hoping her sister would understand without questioning it too far. Sometimes to get to the money, you have to take a few lumps and sometimes you just need to know how far to ride until it's time to jump off. Tony was a train not even she would jump on all the way.

Immediately, Serenity called. "Why the hell would you send me out with a good-looking man you know ain't shit!"

"Baby, he's got money, of course I would. What do you mean? ...You're okay. You were in public, so you're perfectly fine. Besides, he hasn't got any from me yet. He's still in his good behavior phase." Trinity was already on her way to her sister's building with her new car and pulling up as they spoke, ready to let her twin be the first one to congratulate her. "Look outside, hoe."

"Ahh," Serenity grinned down, admiring the shining Mercedez-Benz, Trinity's dream come true. "Hookin has its benefits!"

"You should try it," Trinity muttered, reflecting the exact same grin. She'd already tried to put her sister on in college, putting her to the test, but it didn't work out. Serenity was the type to have second thoughts at the most pivotal moment and fumble a bag. The third time was a wrap, Trinity couldn't take it anymore. They were very different in that arena. "By the way... I'll need a way to explain to Erik about coming home in a Benz. I told him I was saving for one, but didn't tell him I was getting it."

"I don't know how you would've afforded one so fast."

"That's my point. Help me."

"Fine. Tell him a girlfriend gave you a loan, and if he asks, lie and say I believe in your business or just put me on the phone."

"Easy enough. Thanks twin!"

The lies came easy at this point. Erik didn't need to know this part of her life. He already suspected as much about her when they met, but they were supposed to be exclusive. Being a traditional man, he was proud and would probably push her away if he knew she was still taking money from other men, especially when he already paid all the bills and gave her a little to spend.

She had to do it in her mind. If he decided to kick her out at any moment, she needed a backup that wasn't her parents or her sister. She needed to have money on the side and maybe a pair of strong arms for comfort.

"A whole trip," Serenity mutters. Meanwhile, Trinity slides back into her luxury vehicle, letting Bluetooth pick up the call.

“I'll let you drive it one time!”

“Ugh, fine.”

ERIK.

Holding back was proving difficult. Erik was using everything in him to do it for Trinity's sake. Trinity wore a sign on her head every day around the house that said, 'I'm wasting your time'. If it wasn't frivolous, silly, or about sex, she'd check out faster than he could sit down. She truly did not want to talk about anything that actually mattered, and it bothered him. Still, Erik couldn't help being invested in every aspect of her life. He wanted to know if she was esting well, resting well, and advancing with her business. She seemed irritated with the simplest invasion. He even wanted to know about her family. She never talked about her parents. He hadn't met many of her friends either, though she was always on the phone. Why?

He wanted to be closer to the beautiful woman he shared his home with, but they were like oil and water. She didn't seem to be able to find a forever in him, and he didn't know how long he could be in a full relationship with unrequited feelings. Initially, being used didn't seem so bad. She was his slut, a comedian, and live-in company. She looked good on his arm and was the type to turn a blind eye if he flirted with other women. But he was through flirting and ready for commitment. Why couldn't she just let herself be cared for?

"Babe," she called, voice sweet with mischief, making the record scratch in his thoughts.

"What you do?"

"Nothing! I just wanted you to be the first to know... I finally got enough to afford my dream car! I'm bringing it home now. You should let me drive you somewhere in it to celebrate when you come home."

Erik knew she didn't have the funds for a new Mercedes. He didn't want to think she was cheating, though big neom signs pointed him that way. He wanted to believe that she'd really worked hard toward her goal.

"Aight... Think about where you wanna take me."

"Yes sir! Your treat, of course."

"Of course... I'll see you when I get home." He was at work, but now his mind was spinning about Trinity for another reason. Was she cheating? Of course she was, logic told him. Still, he couldn't see her being vulnerable with another man. Definitely not more than she was with him. Erik could tell that though Trinity's feelings for him weren't as strong as his were for her, they were absolutely there and not just because of what he provided financially. She stuck around because she wanted to. She crawled in bed with him after nightmares because she trusted him. She snuck into his shower time just to be skin to skin. She sang him songs. She even made him goofy portraits of himself because she got something from seeing him send her pictures of the drawings on his desk. She used his favorite color often without him ever having told her what it was. Little things. Yeah, when he examined his relationship, it was obvious that her feelings were there. She just didn't like to talk about them, or much of anything... which was rough.

Upon arriving home, Erik examined the Mercedes and went went inside to see a messy living room and the same dishes from last night's dinner, along with some more from the day in the sink. He'd made steaks and had asked her to handle the dishes, but she said she'd do it later. It was now practically dinnertime the next day. He rolled his eyes and rolled up his sleeves, tired of the eyesore.

She came down dressed impeccably with hair and makeup in place as usual, beautiful... but, "Trinity take your stuff upstairs from the living room." He felt like he was raising a moody teenager.

"Yeah, I was just about to. How was work?"

"I'm tired," he admitted, frustrated with the mess. Why couldn't she do this much?

"I'll be honest, about the Benz," Trinity started. Erik's ears were wide open, ready for the truth. He didn't know how he'd respond, but he was ready to hear it. "...A friend of mine gave me a small loan because I didn't have it all."

"Oh yeah? What's their name?"

Trinity hesitated.

"Are you lying to me, Trinity?" It was a straightforward question. If she was gonna lie, she had to lie better, or he would keep catching her.

"Why would I lie," the defense crept into her voice. "Her name's Serenity. She gave me the money because she believes in my business."

Erik snorted aloud, signaling that that had to be bullshit. She named a random name because it rhymed, and who would give her a lumpsum other than the parents she never speaks of or another man?

"You really don't believe me," she glared. "This is stupid." She pulled out her phone.

"Who you calling?"

"Serenity. Don't talk to me after this because I won't wanna hear it. But you can choose to believe me now before I call... and we can have a good night," she barters hopefully.

"Call."

She sighs and I wait for her to do it.

"Put her on speaker."

She rolls her eyes, but does it easily.

"Hello," a woman answers. It's a good sign. Erik leans in, curious about the people who are so close to his girl to the point that they'd lend her money for a car. He asks Serenity how much she leant and doesn't offer to pay it back, but hopes that Trinity wouldn't ruin her friendship by not paying it back.

"You satisfied," Trinity asks after the call, staring Erik down with stank.

"I am." He kisses the pouting Trinity on her cheek, his hands still wet from dishwater. She's not mad enough to say no to going out, especially since she's dressed. "Do all your friends sound like you?"

It was a joke, but Erik noticed a strange look on Trinity's face. It was brief, but he noticed it.

Fast forward to after Erik has been chauffeured for the night. The name Serenity has stuck with him. He didn't know the names of her friends, which was something that he'd change, given the opportunity. Serenity was a good start.

Also, it was rare that he could freely drink and not worry about getting home. The new Mercedes has its perks. He's tipsy to the point of losing control of his urges.

"Erik," Trinity gasps, helping him to the front door. His hands are glued to her marvelous cheeks, not caring if the neighbors can see her thong from him having pushed up her dress. He already has his dick out and in his hand, touching her ass with the tip. "Erik, let me open the door," she chuckles.

"I'm not stopping you." He pulls her thong out and presses his tip against the opening of her anus.

"Erik," she jumps, opening the door and pulling him inside.

"Oops." He knew exactly what he was doing. He pulled her by her hips and finished pulling off her dress, ignoring the back zipper and pulling up until she had no choice but to comply or be stuck. "You know what I wanna do," he rested his lips on her forehead.

She grabbed his chin, pulling it down so he could see her eyes, playful but stern. "Not while you're under the influence you don't." It only made him worse for her. He wanted what he wanted, and she was gonna let him do it. He was certain.

"Princess," he touched her chin slowly, noticing the slight flinch that she checked and contained. His hand slid firmly to her neck, not enough to effect her breathing or cause discomfort, but enough for her to feel the pressure of his presence and notice the feel of him pressing his body against hers, pinning her to the front door. "You know what gets Daddy off. Get Daddy off first, and he'll make sure his Princess doesn't stop coming... Hmm?"

Trinity takes off upstairs like a spring to collect everything he'll need while he waits patiently at the kitchen table for his little fire slut to return.

"I'm here," she pants, back in record time. Too early. Laying out the fire wand, candles, alcohol, and fire blanket, she looks proud of herself. There’s already a fire hydrant in the pantry, just in case. But Erik is skilled, having practiced this kink over time with different partners. He's not worried about that. No, there's something else she's forgotten.

"I can't believe I let you do this to me," she sings.

"What's the rule when we do this?"

"Huh?"

"For your safety. The rule."

Her eyes go wide. "Fuck. Be right back."

"I'll come with you," Erik followed, finding it a better use of his wait. Upstairs, he started the shower, ushering her in and pressing behind her. He was hard in her hand as he tugged lightly on his shaft, leading it to her sweet spot. He wrapped a hand in front of her instead to play with her clit. "Take care of me... and you can have that," he whispered in her ear.

She washes quickly, making him laugh. His playing is only fully disrupted when she has to clean her lower half. In order to play his games, she can't be covered in any of her butters, lotions, or sprays. It's for her own safety, which he takes very seriously, even inebriated.

They both use one towel to dry off and don't worry about clothes. Erik has a one track mind and wants them both in that kitchen immediately.

Like a well trained fire slut, Trinity lays across the kitchen table, relaxed and trusting her man. As she should, Erik notes, getting ready. He loves fire play. To him, fire is powerful and sexy, but it's also beautiful. He loves the feeling of hot wax and the heat of a flame against his skin. When he sees the flame against Trinity, not harming her, but causing a pleasure she's never before been exposed to, it excites him. He loves being the first. He loves that she lets him do it because it pleases him.

He starts with the alcohol on the fire wand to help it burn, watching it hover over her skin. She's nervous, but even tipsy, he's confident he won't burn her. She's trusting him a lot right now, and that's important. He doesn't take it for granted.

He goes slowly, keeping the wand close, but not too close. He wants her to feel that good heat. That good burn just for a moment. He taps her skin with it quickly. Never long enough to cause damage or lasting pain beyond an instant. She's taking it well.

"You remember your safe word?"

"Mhm."

"Aight," he smirks, impressed at her tolerance. He thought she might safeword just to get out of it like she did once before. Nope. They were doing the damn thing. She was being so good for him.

"How does it feel when I let it hover and you just feel that heat?"

"Oddly comforting," she admitted. Music to his ears. He kept letting the flame touch her arms and legs and thighs and stomach, and she took it like a champ. "Damn," he whispered, fascinated by this new development. Phase one of fire play was complete.

This next one would be more to her pleasure instead of just his.

He first lights the special candle made for wax play so they can both watch it melt down. Then he starts with ice in his mouth, tracing Trinity's bare curves as he appreciates every turn with his lips breaking the contact of the cube every so often. His tongue picks up any drops of water left behind, keeping her nice as dry. The candle burning smells like vanilla frosting, a scent he let her choose. It's sugary sweet and smells like the sugar shop he frequents. The ice cube continues over her left thigh, her knee, and her leg before moving up the right side and glossing over her clit.

"You like that," his brows rise, seeing her small reaction and the hardening of her nipples. By now, the wax has melted the perfect amount. "You ready?"

"Mhm."

With a steady hand, he holds the candle directly over her big ass breasts, one of the first physical features he noticed upon meeting her. To think he'd be able to one day do THIS. Feeling her touch on his dick as she wraps her hand around it, rubbing back and forth with her thumb going the opposite way, he drips the wax, letting it hit its targets and harden white. She's moving so beautifully. He drips on the outer flesh first, moving inward to the area and then the nipple, making sure it's a hotter and shorter drop to the nipple.

This candlewax is the kind that thickens into a spreadable body butter. The kind that Trinity prefers. He drips the it anywhere he pleases, with Trinity as the ideal canvas. She even writhes in an erotic way, rubbing her clit as she continues to stroke him with the other hand. He eventually drips it at her trimmed and shaped public hair and lets it drip down her slit and onto her fingers, enjoying the sight. Drip drip drop.

Finally, he rubs it all into her skin, and the second he's done, Trinity makes it absolutely clear what she wants. She’s hands-on, grabbing him and putting it in herself.

"That's how you feel?" This, Trinity never ran from. She loved this part of things. Of course, he did too. He took her wrists in his hands and pinned them over her head to stay there while he pinned back her thighs and dug deep, holding nothing back. She'd be getting it all tonight because she was such an amazing little slut, wet and humoring his kink. He'd do the same for her while giving her deep strokes. "You like that?"

He can see by her face and how her body eagerly sucks him in exactly how much she likes it, but hearing it spurs him on. His sack touches the meeting of her cheeks with every push and his measurement is his bellybutton coming in directly over her clit until the movement can be seen in her stomach. Can't nobody tell him he isn't in that, hitting that shit. Seconds later, she squirts directly in his pubic hair to prove it. He keeps that same rythmic stroke. One, two, one, two. The water keeps leaking to the point that he does pull back to let her cum in peace and just enjoy it. Her thigh is soaked. The table is soaked. He's soaked. He gives her minute with his tip rested against her clit before he bounces it on her clit and slides back in going just a little faster, still hitting his marks. This time he's able to fuck a little longer with her soft whining as a backdrop to offset the silence. Now he's the one getting excited. Slowing back to his original pace, it only takes half a minute for her to squirt again, shooting him and spraying the table and her thighs again. It's everywhere, like the smell of vanilla frosting is everywhere.

Now she's telling him outright her fuck her with her dirty little mouth and with his throbbing hard dick, who would he be to deprive her. He slides in again, not stopping this time when she squirts yet again. Instead, plants a hand under her breasts to hold her still. She's allowed to be as loud as she wants and loud she is.

"Tell me how much you like being stretched by this fat dick, Princess," he says aloud, still calling her his slut in his mind. "That's what Daddy likes to hear. Good girls prove how much they like it by cumming all over it. You prove to Daddy you want this fat dick." It's not long until she cums again as if trying to prove it. Pulling her hips back down to meet him since she'd wiggled her way up, he keeps that stroke that her body responds best to. He intends to milk her, loving the sight of her bouncing body and thighs dripping in her own juices. His hand gravitates to her breast, feeling her nipple erected in his palm. This can never get old.

SERENITY.

Instead of once, luck would have it that you get to drive the brand new Mercedes a handful of times. Trinity has you take it one day to meet Gio in her place because she's boo loving on Erik. It's amazing. She really likes that man, and she's finally opening up to him bit by bit. She met you for lunch on your lunch break and told you that she was trying a new thing: being nicer to Erik. She can sense that her snapping at him makes them both uneasy for no reason, and she wants things to work out with him. She likes him. There’s no reason they should be on edge around each other. You wished her luck, and as a favor, you took the date off of her hands, but you wouldn't have sex with him. Trinity never expected you to, but once on the date, you see that Gio did expect it in return for the gift of the car. Oh, well.

In reporting back to Trinity, you sincerely tell her that you hope you didn't mess anything up for her, but she assures you that you didn't. She's glad you left Gio's entitled ass exactly where it was.

It's only because Trinity's so cool about the outcome of these dates even if you ruin it that you can feel comfortable going in her place. She trusts your judgment, and that counts for a lot. Because of that and her new desire to take her romantic relationship seriously, you volunteer to take on her next few dates, and they aren't all bad once you put away the idea of really really dating them and just get lost in being Trinity. In fact, the dates appeal to your sense of adventure. They're fun, and they give you a chance to practice flirting without much shame or blowback.

Then it happens, Trinity sits you down in the mall food court, and she tells you that since she's made a genuine effort to be nicer, she and Erik have gotten closer. She still feels like he loves her more than she loves him, but she wants to let herself get to that point. She wants to let go of the others on her roster and just have Erik.

You stare at her in awe. The last time she only dated one man was in college before she dropped out. That man was Ty, the black mark on what could've been her best years. You're ecstatic right now because this shows personal growth. You want this for her. She's been wanting someone to love her, and you truly believe she's found that in Erik if she stays out of her own way.

"Can I still drive the Mercedes sometimes," you sneak in.

"No," she smiles, completely serious.

You pout, already missing the features.

"Also," she adds, "I've been thinking... I have to find a way where I can really let myself trust him... I think I might mention mom and dad... and if that goes well, I might come clean about having a twin..."

Your jaw drops with uncontainable glee. "I wanna meet him."

"I know," she smiles, full of nervous energy. "The plan is to tell him... Tomorrow."

TRINITY.

Trinity went by what she noticed was Erik's favorite place to grab a snack when he wanted something good. He always got their chocolate fudge cookie loaded with nuts or a cherry filled donut. She got him two of each and decided to pop up on him at work.

"Erik," she called from her cellphone outside.

"Trinity? What's up?"

"I'm outside your office. Can you meet me for a second?"

She sat on one of the two benches, feeling comfortable in the good weather while she waited on him to come down. He was quick, sitting next to her and noticing the logo on the bag.

"You bought this for me?" He kissed her cheek, opening it and smelling the sugar. He crushed one donut before she could say anything she'd planned to say

"I'm glad we're getting closer," she said, suddenly uneasy. He was looking at her so closely now. She was losing her nerve. "So yeah, I just wanted to do something special."

"Thank you, baby," he chewed, already onto the cookie. "I'm glad you came through. You know I love seeing your beautiful face. It makes my day."

"And reminds you to make us that good money," Trinity teased. If she were honest, she might stay with him even if the worst happened and he lost his job... Maybe. She wasn't completely sure, but even that was enough to tell her that she was falling deeper.

When Erik came home that evening, she knew he'd look at the mess, but she had the perfect distraction. He walked in and she was watching TV.

"Hey babe!"

"Uh-oh," he walked around the couch, sighing about the dishes again. "You called me Babe? What happened? Other than these damn dishes filling up the sink?"

"Why does something gotta happen for me to have a cute name for you? I spoke to my parents today."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Mhm. They live in Baton Rouge, but we could go visit sometime if you like. No rush..." Trinity looked up, trying to catch his full reaction, and it was a mixture of confusion and being ready to leave to meet them now.

"You tell me when. I'll take off," Erik said more firmly than when he'd instruct Trinity to clean something. Trinity smirked, imagining her parents' reaction when she brings home a good man with no drug or alcohol dependency, a good job, and then tells them how perfect he is. They are gonna wonder why he's with her and not her sister.

"I'll plan it," Trinity smiled. "But what about your parents?You don't talk about them either."

"That's because they died," he said matter-of-factly, making her nearly choke on spit. "Long time ago. That's why I wondered about yours."

"I didn't know that..." Trinity regretted not mentioning her parents sooner. They weren't bad people. They were actually great. She felt horrible that Erik had lost his. "Well, my parents will adore you. That's for sure. I'll share 'em with you."

"Thanks," he chuckled, settling into the couch beside her as she watched Echoes, a show about twins switching places until one disappeared and their lives fell apart. "Mm. I've always wanted a twin."

Trinity snorted, surprised but glad that the show helped start the conversation in such a perfect way. This was the perfect time to explain what she'd been hiding and why. "Why?"

"One of us would go to work, and one of us would stay here and cuddle with you all day," he joked, pulling her in tightly to nibble on her ear.

"It's funny you say that. I think twins are cool, too. What would you do with two of me?"

"Two women this damn fine? I don't think I could handle it. Who would I fuck first? Too many possibilities."

A spear through her heart. Direct hit right in the center of her insecurities. Trinity knew it was just a joke and that Erik didn't know what he was saying. It wasn't a serious answer. Still, the way it hit her like a train made her fall back from him emotionally. She could feel it happening but was powerless to stop it. She knew 100% that if he knew the thoughts in her head, he’d try to take back what he just said, but she didn’t want it taken back.

She didn’t want it to cross his mind to begin with.

If she told him right now that she is a twin, was he truly a man who could only love her without having her sister in his head, wondering when a good time would be to ask for a threesome? How long would he wait where the question would be burning in him? How many times would he lie to her and say he didn't think of her sister?

He loves her now, but what about when her perfect sister with a great personality, degree, and no baggage is around? Will he like her more? If Erik fell for her looks, then her twin would truly be his wet dream. He’s also Serenity's type because they’re attracted to the same phenotype of man. Erik and Serenity would probably be a power couple, which breaks Trinity’s heart to consider. It rings too true and drives her even further from Erik in the moment.

She was wrong to drop her roster and put all her eggs in the Erik basket, absolutely nuts, and jumping the gun. She'd got lost in a fantasy when the reality was that she was way too damaged and not in the least good enough to be enough for Erik... not as long as someone as amazing as Serenity was her twin. She'd always be second where it counted.

"I'm getting sleepy," she fake yawned, leaving Erik's lap. He wanted her to stay, but she was in an awful mood suddenly. She wanted to be alone and kick her own ass in the privacy of her room.

Even walking away and leaving him as suddenly as she did felt wrong in that moment and cemented to her how selfish she was. She didn't deserve Erik at all, and if he knew what else was out there, he'd choose up.

No, she deserved someone more cold and selfish who only thought of themself too.

Like Gio.

The next day, Trinity left Gio a text. He'd asked her a while ago if she wanted to be the girl who goes to Cabo with him, and his trip was in a few weeks. Originally, she'd turned him down because she was really feeling Erik and couldn't go missing for an entire week, or she'd lose him. Now, however, she felt losing him was inevitable. She changed her answer, telling Gio yes, knowing he'd take her over any other bimbo he had lined up. Still, she acted like nothing was wrong as she spent downtime with Erik. And of course, this wasn't anything she couldn't tell her sister.

SERENITY.

You and Trinity are at the nail salon, getting your eyebrows and manipedi done in the same colors with minor differences in design. You've been venting for the past 30 minutes about your job, mostly about the people on your job. She already knows and gets it, but you're so irritated with these people that you have to talk about it like she doesn't just to get it out.

"Speaking of difficult people," she segues, "Guess who got cold feet about telling Erik she's a twin?"

"You still can. It's not like too much time has passed."

"Yeah, I'll try again another time."

"Sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, okay," she smirks. “One more thing. About being faithful and dropping my hoes, I lied.

"Triiin...," you sigh, drained.

"I tried. I can't do it. I miss the gifts and the praise! I'm like Tinkerbell. I need the applause. I mean, I have the chance to go to Cabo, Ren. CABO! I'd be out of my damn mind not to jump on this once in a lifetime opportunity. But for me to do that..." She gets the scheming look in her eye. "I need you, Ren."

"Oh Lord!"

"I need you to swap places with me next month.”

You’re still thinking of stunting in that Mercedes. Right now, that's your biggest motivation. “When next month?” You'll have to check your schedule.

“The last week.”

“For how long?”

“The entire week,” she bites her finger, knowing how crazy of an ask it is. You just stare at her.

“Who’s going to work for me that week, Trinity? Some triplet I don’t know about?”

“See, I’ve already thought about it, and I know your availability for the year because when because when I was at your office Tuesday, I looked it up. I was just being nosey, but you have some PTO and-”

“TRINITY,” you growl sternly, causing people to look.

“Hear me out! I’ll pay you your salary for the week. Technically, you’ll be getting paid double to NOT go to work! We both get a vacation. I'll just be on a beach in Cabo, shaking my ass in a thong. It works!”

“You really want me to stay with one of your crazy ass men for a WEEK? It better not be Tony.”

“Hell no, not Tony. Erik. We live together. I can't disappear for a week to travel with another man, but if you're there, it's like I'm there. Just keep him on ice for me until I get back."

"So the first time you let me meet him is when we're switching places..."

"At least you'll get to meet him when he's not trying to impress you or mom or dad. You can vet him without him ever knowing, then meet him later and pretend it's the first time."

That's not a bad deal. A break from work, double pay, and vetting your sister's man to see if he has any red flags she's overlooked.

"It's a deal."

You continue to work and put in your leave so when the time comes, you're set. When it's time to switch, you ride with Trinity to the airport in her Mercedes and she gives you the key and house key along with a speed run of facts about Erik, although you know a good amount from what she's said over time. The two of you trade phones and a hug. Then she's in the airport off to Cabo, and you're off to Erik's house for a week.

His house is very nice. You've seen pictures from the outside, and you like the fact that Trin has her own room. There's a lot of space so that the two of them don't need to live over top of each other, but when they want to, they can. Then you walk through the entire house, imagining where they were when they had that argument you heard over the phone. You can see it play out.

You go to Trin's room and look around, finding it messy like when the two of you lived together in the dorm. Her side was always a mess, and then she'd come to your side and try to mess that up, too. "Mm-mm," you shake your head. You're gonna have to straighten this up and lysol if you're gonna live in it for a week. Sighing, you go to look at Erik's room, and it's neat. His bed is made, and his closet is arranged by function. He has a lot of suits and shoes. You check his drawers, and his casual clothes and underwear are folded. "Trinnn," you sigh. "You gone get a man out-do you?" Erik is probably fed up with the mess, just like you. You decide to go ahead and clean Trin's room and do her laundry. Then you look through her closet, which is your dream closet, and plan all the outfits you're gonna find a reason to wear. You decide to change into one now so that you already look and feel like Trin before Erik gets back from work. His girlfriend is about to seem real distant and anti-human contact, so you hope he's resilient. He's in for a long week.

"Erik," you answer, seeing Erik's name on Trin's cell when it rings. You remember your sister typically just calls him by his name.

"I've been thinking bout you," he says sweetly. "What you want for dinner tonight I'll bring it home and we can watch something on Netflix."

Netflix and chill, huh? "Okay." What are the options? "I feel like steak and shrimp," you suggest, throwing it out there.

"You never get tired of that," he sighs, making you think about how similar you are Trinity are without trying.

"Who doesn't love surf and turf?"

"You say that every time," he chuckles.

"Okay, then next time you choose and you better say something you don't always say."

"Bet. See you when I get there."

Hanging up, you recall the dishes in the sink and decide to knock them out so the two of you can have a peaceful space. Even Trinity would pick up a little sometimes. You just won't get too carried away and deep clean, or it could set off mental alarms.

[effy-writes]

Can I request Striker with a fem s/o (hcs) who is basically the opposite of him, readers a city girl, wears expensive dresses, expensive jewelry, designer heels, and she's most likely a celebrity but she's still polite?? Ty!!

ofc!! sorry it’s taking me so long i have like 10 requests 😭

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

striker x f! yuppie! model! reader HC’s

• striker knew of you because you were a popular model in the Wrath ring. you did all sorts of modeling. fashion, perfume, hands, tail, lingerie, even weaponry. striker being striker, he hated the idea of you. hates yuppies (rich person) absolutely despises them, so he kinda hated you (but he still thought you were extremely attractive). the first time he actually met you was when you were buying a gun that you modeled for. he instantly recognized you because you were wearing expensive clothes with a fucking gucci coat and heels. while shopping, you didn’t know which gun to buy (you only modeled for them, you actually have no idea on which one is better), so you asked striker.

• he was shocked that you were wanting to get his opinion, especially a poor imp like himself. he thought to himself, “why would a rich person want my opinion?”, but he saw how nice you talked to him. you didn’t treat him like a pest, you treated him like an actual person. (he has bad self esteem issues). after that little interaction of him telling you which gun is better and which one he recommends for you, you decided to ask him out. “you’re really attractive, can we go out sometime? getting to know each other better?” he thought you were tricking him to humiliate, but he saw the way you look at him with those sweet, beautiful eyes of yours, so he said yes

• ever since then you two hit it off. he found out so many things about you that you don’t broadcast to the world. he also found out that you don’t model for the money or for the popularity, you model because it makes you happy and helps give you confidence. he was hesitant to tell you about his work, but when he did you were oddly excited. you thought that was so cool and that he’s killing people with a gun that YOU modeled for.

• he was the one who properly asked you to date. he was nervous as FUCK only because he felt like he didn’t deserve a model like you, but you obviously thought very different. you love his personality, his demeanor, and his ambition. the moment you two started dating the media got out about it. he was embarrassed (not because of you, because he didn’t want to seem weak and vulnerable because he IS an assassin, but you quickly told him that it doesn’t make him sound weak or anything like that and you’re very grateful to be dating a guy like him)

•he enjoyed that you never bragged about your money (even though you do wear expensive shit, but he knows you deserve to wear expensive shit because you have to deal with creeps)

• speaking of creeps, he will 100% shoot anybody that tries to touch you, cat call you, or even look at you with lustful eyes. he’s very protective and will do anything to keep you safe.

• you LOVE buying him things, it’s your love language. he always says “you don’t have to buy me fancy shit, i ain’t jealous” “but you’ll look so hot in this! plus let me spoil you, please?”

• because everyone is up your ass, everyone knows about striker and his assassination business. he thought it will bring his sales down, but because you’re so popular and everyone knew him, more people started paying him to kill others. so it was def a win-win situation

• he often feels bad that he can’t treat you with nice things, but you’ll always tell him that you don’t care about money and that you never did. you care if he’s happy and comfortable. but because he’s not rich like you, he will try his best to buy you sentimental things. flowers, love letters, he even saved up his money to buy you a HORSE. (you two joke around and say his and your horse is dating)

• he’s afraid you think that he’s with you for the money, so he’s always telling you that he’s not with you for that. he’s with you because you make him feel happy, you’re super sweet to him, and that there’s somebody in hell that cares about him. you always reassure him that you know he’s not with you for the money

bonus: everyone in the media ships you guys so hard that there’s edits of the two of you, fan art, AND fanfics. striker finds it a little weird, but you find it so fucking funny

[doraambrose]

When it comes to the Victim Blaming Grief coping one of the big things that makes it an issue is that he actually did it to Jason's face (in Hush as it was retconned to be Jason he said that too).

And, when Jason comes back it stops being grief for the dead, it becomes grief for the wounded. And people victim blame people who were hurt too. This is how they cope, however this coping mechanism always hurts the victim and is a genuinely bad coping mechanism that shouldn't be used. It's harmful. It's harmful to the victim and it is harmful for the other people who might be grieving. It's probably one of the most selfish coping mechanisms.

I've experienced people using this method in real life and it's rough. And it's toxic. Saying you can't criticize the way someone grieves is flawed because you are rarely the only one grieving and I personally have been harmed during a period of shared grief. And I am sure other people have been too because grief brings out the bad in people but that doesn't mean all is forgiven.

Like, imagine if Jason was just comatose and all the victim blaming happened and then Jason just woke up and found out all Bruce had been saying about him? Would Jason's feelings be justified then?

Also, saying the deceased person doesn't matter when they die disregards a lot of religious and spiritual beliefs around honoring the dead.

I feel like Jason is as justified as any other person harmed when someone copes with toxic way in being upset. Jason's death is also a traumatic thing that happened to him. Centering Bruce's feelings while disregarding Jason's as unjustified doesn't feel fair. Especially considering the incident where Bruce took Jason to Ethiopia to try to trigger Jason's memories of what brought him back without his consent.

(Sorry if this was a bit much, I've experienced a decent amount of the bad sides of grief in my life and feel strongly about it)

Okay, so I feel like I need to re answer my previous post because I was struggling to find the right words and also at work, but I think I've figured it out.

One thing to keep in mind is when we talk about feelings, grief, and emotions, there's not a set right or wrong. I also mentioned that I don't like the word justified in this case because it sounds like right or wrong. I did use it at the end, but I'll get into that here. This is a very gray area subject matter and that makes it tricky and you're never gonna find an answer that everyone agrees with because it's not really as fact based as if I said "batman wears a cape sometimes" or "dick grayson is nightwing".

The first thing that comes to mind for me is what my therapist tells me when I feel guilt over feelings. She would tell me "anything you're feeling is valid, you're allowed to be upset, angry, sad, jealous, etc. It's how you act on those feelings.. something I can't remember atm lol". So when I say jason isn't justified, I'm saying that he's allowed to be upset and angry and his feelings are valid, it's not right to actively take it out on the family and hold it against them and be sort of malicious or harmful. And i know theyve done that plus some towards him, but its important to remember that you can only control your own actions and even if someone is being toxic and harmful, that doesnt mean you should too. I think I didn't explain that right and there was some miscommunication. I also wanted to explain why I felt that jason would be angry.

As for this comment, both of these asks were right. Grief can be harmful and toxic. And before I say what I'm going to say next, keep in mind that I'm discussing grief alone and not any of the stuff post utrh that Bruce has done to jason that's harmful and abusive. This toxic kind of grief doesn't make the person a bad person. They can't help it. It's your brain going crazy to try and cope with something traumatic. When my dog died, I wanted to sue my vet, even though they didn't really so anything wrong. It's easier to have someone in front of you to blame. I'm not saying it's right or okay, but it does happen and it can be harmful, but you're not a bad person for it. (In Bruce's case, he's a bad person for all the other shit he's pulled outside of this)

I think these two asks are like at the opposite ends of this topic and I think it's something that you can meet in the middle with. So basically

Yes, grief can be toxic and harmful, but it's also very much a subconscious phenomenon and it's extremely personal and different for everyone and alot of times, people are unaware of what they're doing.

Because of that, jason can be hurt by it, he can be angry,etc. His feelings are valid, But it's not fair to activey hold that over Bruce forever, which he doesn't, this seems more like a fanon thing btw. But it also doesn't hurt to apologize afterwards.

I think when you say that the idea of not critiquing the way someone grieves is flawed, it comes off as unempathetic. Because as someone who has had to grieve alot of the past few years, it's the worst feeling. And your brain is literally scrambling to cope with it so you don't actively lose your shit and sometimes it ends up with some unhealthy Coping mechanisms. And you're usually unaware of what you're doing. I feel like you're not thinking of how the other person is feeling or what they're going through. And fair is fair, they need to see what you're feeling too and actively try to remedy things at some point, there just needs to be more patience and empathy all around and trying to remember that this person is not always intentionally being malicious.

I'm a religious person. So I see where youre coming from, but nobody said the deceased doesn't matter. I think the point was more that you don't have to worry as much about how that person is feeling or thinking because they've moved on to a better place, you should focus on self care and doing what's best for your mental health.

I am also 100% not trying to center around Bruce's feelings and discredit jasons, in fact, the last post was 100% about jasons feelings.

In summary, there's not "justified" or "right" or "wrong". It's super complicated, varies from person to person, and is a tricky subject matter. Everyone's feelings are valid and there definitely needs to be more empathy and patience on all sides, but there are still actions that have been made on both sides that aren't the best and can be hurtful or toxic. I hope this all makes sense and I worded it right :)

[loverboyreg1]

Jegulus microfic note: Regulus' and his friends aren't graduating just the marauders ect

"I got the mark." Regulus' whispered to James. They were on top of the astronomy tower like they always were. This time was different.

"No." James begged tears in his eyes.

"We can't talk anymore" Regulus mumbled and turned around to walk away leaving James to cry.

*Few days before James'(ect) graduation*

Regulus was laying on his bed reading a book while Evan was in his own bed trying to do his homework.

"I love you Evan." Regulus suddenly said. "Not like Barty does. As a friend"

"What's whit the sudden sweetness?" Evan frowned looking up from his homework.

"I'm not going to graduate." Regulus blurted out.

"Well of course you're not going to. We still have a year here" Evan said sounding confused.

"No." Regulus looked down to his book to avoid eye contact. "I'll never do that."

"You can talk to me and Barty alright?" Evan's voice now sounded worried. "You don't have to do it"

"oh. No im not gonna." Regulus shakes his head amusedly. "I just got some things to do. No more questions and don't tell Barty."

"I love you too." Evan said. "As a mate."

Regulus smiled sadly at him before they both turned to their books again.

*The graduation day at the Marauders dorm*

"Do you need help whit your tie mate?" Sirius asked James.

"No." James said quickly. "I'll just do it later."

Sirius nodded.

"I actually have something to do." James told. "Where's the map?"

Peter who was looking at the map in his bed threw it at him. James thanked him and smiled before storming out the room.

Sirius gave a confused look to Peter and Remus who bot shrugged.

*Hallways*

James who quickly found Regulus on the map ran for his life to the place the other boy was wandering in.

"Regulus!" James called as soon as he saw him.

"What?" Regulus asked sharply when James was closer.

"Can you help whit my tie?" James asked. "You make it look fancy"

Regulus sighed and looked at James his eyebrows raised.

"Also I'd like to have proper goodbyes whit you." James mumbled looking at his shoes.

He looked up as soon as he saw Regulus' hands reaching out for the tie that was around his shoulders.

"We can't talk anymore you understand that?" Regulus said sharply showing no emotions.

"I know-" James started but got interrupted.

"I don't want to put you in danger." Regulus said not listening to James.

"I know" James nodded. "I'm not mad at you by the way. For taking it. You didn't have a choice did you?"

Regulus shook his head slightly. When he got the tie ready he started to fix James' hair.

"Your hair is a mess" Regulus mumbled.

"I like it that way." James grinned.

"me too.." Regulus whispered

"You know maybe in other universe we could have a happy life." James said smiling at Regulus.

"Maybe" Regulus mumbled. "Now shut up and give me second to look at you in peace."

James did what asked to. Regulus looked at him for a while.

"Goodbye then" Regulus mumbled breaking the silence.

"Goodbye" James answered him trying to smile even though it was clear he was about to cry.

Regulus kissed James' cheek and then walked away leaving James to just stand there.