Dublin In Ecstasy // Wanted To Write Something Silly For St Patrick’s Day So Here’s This (two Days

Happy Endings U: Masterlist

Summary and Character Introduction

pairings: collegebaseballplayer!Rafe Cameron x Reader, collegebaseballplayer!JJ Maybank x reader

series content: suggestive content, smut, graphic language, drinking, toxic ex-relationship, others I'm sure, 18+ MDNI

Chapters:

(1: Dear Reader) (2: The Gentlemen's Challenge)

note: to be added to the taglist for this series, please reply to this post. I will be capping it, and kindly request that you interact with each post related to this series in order to stay on the taglist <3

Spirit {Teaser}

Synopsis ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

You’re in your first year of college. Lots of new faces, new people, new experiences and new feelings. It’s all overwhelming, but you pace yourself with the only thing you’re passionate about: cheer. One too many coincidences cause you to form an unlikely friendship with the star quarterback, which teeters on the edge of being more than just a friendship.

Warnings ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

Rafe is a soft boy in this one, slow burn, angst, drama, injuries, swearing, graphic detail of broken bones, eventual smut, semi public sex, fighting, breaking the law.

“Andddddd Touchdown! Rafe Cameron has done it again folks!” You hear the announcer bellow through the speakers in the stadium, a chorus of cheers sweeping through the crowds as the final point, the winning point is scored.

Your team cheers, finishing your exiting chant before you’re all running onto the main field, being swept by the crowds of students and parents coming to celebrate with the team.

You eyes find Rafe’s as he pulls his helmet off, hair falling out, forehead glistening. He smiles, chest heaving as he’s hugged from all angles by different people celebrating his win.

Still, his eyes are on yours. You raise your hands, giving him a slight thumbs up as a well done.

“Thank you, cheer,” he mouths, and you smile back, cheeks blushing a pink only he can make you do. Somehow, despite all the people around you, it feels like it’s just the two of you. Like always.

When his eyes are on you, it feels like nobody else could ever matter.

Note ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪

I’m really feeling the vibe of this one and will write it regardless but what do you guys think? I’m feeling sooooo motivated recently 🫶🏻

art 100% has crashed out over something like this

Red And Blue

Summery: His canon event.

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: kinda gore at one point nothing too crazy, grammar mistakes.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the amount of mistakes this probably has but i cant be bothered to care more i just want to get this fic out. Listen to my tears ricochet as you read

Rafe had always been good at hiding things. He kept his head down, stayed out of the spotlight, and made sure no one looked too closely. But ever since the bite, since the powers, since the responsibility that came with it, lying had become second nature.

Especially to you.

It killed him, really. Every time he bailed on a movie night, ignored your texts, or showed up bruised and breathless with a half-baked excuse, he saw the confused and hurt look in your eyes. But what was he supposed to do? Tell the truth? That he was ditching every time to swing across rooftops, and fight criminals? No. That wasn’t an option.

Tonight was no different.

“Are you serious, Rafe?” You leaned your head down, phone pressed against your ear, voice sharp with frustration. “You're leaving me again. You promised this time. I know you don't like school events but just once please”

“I'm sorry” he muttered, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “Something came up.”

“Something always comes up. What is it this time? And don’t tell me it's homework or family stuff, because I know when you’re lying.” 

“I just…” He exhaled, as if a weight was pressing on his chest. “I can’t tell you, okay?” He swallowed hard.

Silence. At first he thought you hung up but he could still hear a faint shuffling from the other end of the phone call.

The silence was somehow worse than you cursing him out for bailing.

“Why not? I thought we told each other everything.” your voice was softer this time, more fragile

God, how badly he wanted to. He wanted to tell you about the fights, the injuries he had to patch up alone, the weight of trying to be a hero when all he wanted was to be a normal guy. But if he told you he'd put you into too much risk.

He couldn’t let that happen.

So he did what he always did.

He lied.

“I just need you to trust me,” he said even if his chest ached. “Please.”

You thought for a long moment, then shook your head with a sad smile even if he couldn't see you. “You say that like I don’t already.”

And that hurt more than any punch he’d ever taken.

Because he knew he was running out of chances. The more he lied the more it felt like you were walking away.

“Welp” you said, popping the P, as if trying to lighten up the mood, before taking a small pause. “I'm already half ready and Gwen really wants us to go to the party so if you change your mind just call me?”

"Okay," he whispered into the phone.

"Bye, Rafe." The call ended with a soft beep, leaving him alone with the silence. 

“i suck” He let out a heavy sigh, groaning as he flopped onto his bed. The mask, half-folded over his face, slipped down, unfolding on its own. It rested against his nose—a quiet, relentless reminder of the responsibilities he has over the city.

"Heyyyy!" Gwen called out, sprinting toward you from the front steps of the school, where she had been waiting. Her face lit up the moment she spotted you approaching.

You hesitated, glancing at the building behind her, you could hear music thumping from inside. 

“Rafe is not with you?” she asked, looking around you thinking she might have missed him.

“No, you know how he is. He bailed again” you sighed.

“What is his problem?” She didn't wait for an answer and continued, “you know what? let's forget about him and just have fun” she looped her arm with yours and instantly began dragging you.

The homecoming party was in full swing, music pounding against the walls, and laughter echoed through the gym where it took place. It reeked of sweat, and the floor was already sticky as if someone had dropped bottles of juice on the floor and honestly if Rafe was here you would have begged him to leave with you already.

You tried to enjoy the moment, despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. You clutched a red Solo cup filled with non alcoholic fruit punch, swirling the liquid mindlessly. You knew you’d only take a few sips—just enough to look like you were part of the fun.

Beside you, Gwen nudged your arm with a playful grin. “Come on, loosen up a little! It's homecoming, not a funeral.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? This just isn’t really my scene.”

 “You mean you don’t love being crammed in a gym full of sweaty high schoolers who haven't  learned what deodorant is yet, with music so loud it could cause permanent hearing damage?” Gwen dramatically gasped.

“Shocking, right?” You smirked.

“Alright, no excuses. One dance. Then I’ll let you go back to brooding in the corner with your untouched fruit punch.” She grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the dance floor

You sighed but let her drag you along anyway , attempting to let go of the tension in your chest just for a few minutes.

But it didn't last long. 

A single phone rang loudly, cutting through the music—then another, and another, until the entire gym was filled with the sound of alerts. Conversations stopped, and a wave of confusion swept through the crowd as people scrambled to check their phones. Those who had left theirs at home leaned over shoulders, desperate to see what was happening.

It was an emergency alert.

A link attached to the notification led to a live report from a hovering news helicopter. The shaky footage showed Spider-Man in a brutal fight with something massive—a creature that towered over him. Gasps and murmurs spread through the party as people recognized what they were seeing.

Another lizard.

New York had seen its fair share of Dr. Curt Connors copycats, but this one was different. It was bigger—almost dinosaur-sized; its scaly skin was reflecting the city lights as it tore through the streets. The ground seemed to shake even through the screen.

“This… this one’s huge,” someone whispered, their voice barely audible over the growing panic.

The realization hit all at once. This wasn’t just another mad scientist playing with forbidden experiments and  chemicals. This was something worse. And it was heading straight for the school.

The battle outside was relentless. The massive Lizard roared, its tail whipping through the air, sending cars flying like toys that weighed nothing. Rafe gritted his teeth, webbing up debris and yanking himself through the air to keep up with the monster’s destructive path.

Every web he shot was torn apart and all his strength did nothing against the creature. Rafe's body ached, exhaustion creeping in faster than he wanted to admit. The Lizard was too strong, too fast, and it was pushing forward, heading straight toward the school. Toward you.

He forced himself to move, barely dodging a swipe of the creature’s paws. His vision blurred for a moment, his limbs trembling. His suit was torn. He was too weak. He wasn’t going to make it.  

Then he saw it. In that small moment of hesitation, that single breath he allowed himself to take, the monster had surged forward. Its massive feet slammed into the school celling, reducing the entrance to ashes. Dust and debris shot into the air as the walls groaned under its weight. His chest tightened—he had wasted precious seconds

A deafening explosion sent shockwaves through the school, knocking people off their feet. walls shattered, dust lifted in the air, screams filled the gym, all the lights were shut off putting the school in full black out and the once-lively party descended into chaos.

Everyone was running frantically, The entire building shook as you all felt the creature getting closer seeking destruction. All you could hear was the scream of people desperately trying to find an exit. 

“We have to go!” Gwen took your hand and began running but there was nowhere to run, the school was falling piece by piece.

The next thing you knew, the Lizard’s massive paw tore through the ceiling, debris raining down. Screams got louder and louder. It wasn’t just destroying the building—it was tearing apart anything in its path.

Even students.

You barely had time to process the horror unfolding before your eyes. The sickening sound of ripping metal, the desperate cries for help—it was too much. You wanted to run, to do something, but your body felt frozen in place, paralyzed by terror.

And then you saw it.

A lifeless hand, limp beneath the rubble. A shoe that hadn’t been there seconds ago. Blood smeared across the floor where moments earlier, there had been laughter.

Your breath hitched, your chest was tightening with a grief so sharp it felt like it might crush you. This wasn’t just destruction. It was a massacre..

You barely had time to process  it before a chunk of debris came crashing down—right toward you and a figure dressed in red and blue dropped from the ceiling and came at you as fast as light could travel.

In a blur of motion, you were flying through the air, held tightly against a strong chest. 

“You need to go!”  Spiderman yelled as soon as he dropped you back on your feet. But you couldn't hear him over the roars and the screams.

Before you could respond, a violent force knocked you both apart. You tumbled across the floor, the wind knocked from your lungs and the monster hovered over you. 

Spider-Man lunged, webbing the creature’s face and yanking it backward. “Run!” he shouted at you, desperation in his tone. He fought with everything he had, flipping, dodging, striking with all the strength he could collect. But the Lizard was relentless.

Then, in the chaos, you tried to run—but the Lizard’s tail lashed out, striking you hard. The sound of impact was harsh. You hit the ground with a sickening thud.

“No!” Rafe’s voice cracked, Something inside him snapped. Rage flooded his veins, and every ache, every ounce of exhaustion vanished.

With a furious roar, he attacked. His punches came harder, his movements faster. He webbed the Lizard’s limbs, yanking it into the ground with a force that shattered concrete. He didn’t let up. He couldn’t. Not after what had just happened.

Finally, with one last web the monster was tied to the floor unmoving and unconscious, the host of the lizard and succumbed.

But none of it mattered.

Rafe stumbled toward you, collapsing beside you before pulling his mask up to truly see you.

 “No, no, no—come on” he pleaded, his hands lifted your head up and he felt the liquid pouring out of the large gash behind your head. His blood stained hands trembled as he brushed the hair from your face, his vision blurred with tears. “Please, Y/n—”

Your eyes fluttered open slightly, breathing shallow. A weak, bittersweet smile ghosted your lips. “I always knew,” you whispered. “I always knew it was you.”

Rafe froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“I just… wished you told me,” You murmured, fingers barely gripping his suit. “I still would’ve… loved you.”

Tears streamed down his face. “No, don’t—don’t talk like that. You’re going to be okay. I promise, I—”

But you exhaled one last breath, your hand slipping from his suit. Your body went still.

“Please, no. i love you” he lifted your body further into his as if his warmth could bring you back but it didn't.

And after that moment the canon remained intact.

GIRL OF THE SEA | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — After leaving the Island Club, Rafe hadn't expected to find a mermaid on the beach.

Word Count — 1.0K

Content — fluff, mentions of nakedness.

Dedication — to @erwinsvow whom I talked about this concept months ago, and to The Little Mermaid (2023) movie that's currently playing at the corner of my screen as I write this.

Rafe hadn’t expect to find you.

Half-past eleven, he was leaving the Island Club and found intrigue in the distance. A glimmer against the harsh currents, banging against the coastline. He hadn’t given it much thought—until it looked like the sea was glowing like stardusts had fallen into the ocean.

Drunk, he trekked down the valleys of the beach, slipped against the coarse sand, and made his way to the shoreline. He hadn’t expected much—perhaps it was a mirage, a trick of his sight—but what he found was completely out of his realm of predictions.

It was you.

Naked.

Your legs stretched across the wet sand, your body bare of any fabric, saved for seashells covering your breasts. Your hair was damp, freshly pulled from the ocean, and your fingers traced the skin of your thighs, mesmerized, as if you had never seen such a thing.

Because you hadn’t.

You were a mermaid, sworn to keep away from the surface world, to stay off humans. But you were fascinated—you saw the Island Club’s fireworks, the twinkles in the sky, and the bare beach, voided of humans, voided of predators, that you just wanted a taste for it yourself.

Somehow, you pulled to the coast, dragged your tail against the sand, pulled your weight till it found dry land. Afterward, with permission of a secret potion, you digested the ingredients and shifted into legs. Human legs. You gasped at the fascination of it being attached to your own, that they were yours to control.

Rafe followed the trail. He saw the thick tail outlined against the sodden sand, before being transformed into a pair of legs. It looked odd, but he wasn’t going to assume mermaids; he always thought they were a myth, a folktale.

He just thought you were crazy.

“Hello?” Rafe asks with a slur of his words, blinking in surprise at your lack of modesty. You look up, eyes twinkling, and a smile curves at your lips. You don’t have a sense of danger, a sense of fear for the humans everyone warned you about.

Instead, you were intrigued, your eyes trailing down the length of Rafe’s body, the way he held the bottle of beer in his hands. You don’t have that back in the ocean.

“Legs,” you point at him, and for a second, Rafe grows self-conscious.

“What?” He gapes.

“You have legs,” you repeat, a grin broadening your face with childlike wonder. Your fingers shifts, pointing at yourself. “Me too! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Rafe assumes you’re high. That you’ve taken something from the Pogues, and you’re here, in the middle of the beach, alone, naked, with no consideration other than the fact that you had legs. Whatever you took, he wants a taste of it himself.

But it’s also odd. Because you didn’t look intoxicated. Your eyes are a little wild, but that’s from enthusiasm, from curiosity, not from narcotics. They’re clear, they’re wide, and they’re wrinkled with this spark of joy Rafe had never seen in a human before.

“Yeah,” Rafe drawls slowly, “Yeah, they’re good.”

You beam, your hands propping your upper body on the sand as you attempt to pull yourself up. On the first try, you fell miserably, landing harshly against the coarse grains, and an oomph leaves your throat. Rafe winces at the sight, at the pain you must endure, but all you do is laugh.

You’re laughing because you never done this before.

You try again, but your knees buckle under your weight. Gravity, it seems, is against you. But you’re resilient. You pull yourself up, several times if necessary, so you can finally use the opportunity to walk on land as you always dreamed of.

You fall again.

“Alright, alright,” Rafe steps forward, and wraps his arm around your waist, helping to your feet. “Come on, Bambi, it ain’t that hard,” he says in a light tone, and you smile.

“It’s new,” you confess in a soft, sirened whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks, turning to you, your face centimeters from his. The glow of your expression is enchanting, like all the right proportions, all the right features that Rafe had always seen in a woman. It steals his breath away. “This your first time walkin’?”

You grin, “Isn’t it amazing?”

“Yeah, yeah, amazing,” he shakes his head, holding you upright, as you slowly find your footing. Your feet touch the sand, and it sinks under your weight, grains trickling between your toes. Toes, things you’ve never had before, and you wiggle them. Oh, it feels glorious.

“Good?” Rafe asks, recognizing now that it’s not going to be easy helping you out of this beach. He isn’t sure if you’re not drunk, if you’re not doped up, but he is sure that there’s absolutely no way you’re in the right state of mind to tell him which direction is your home.

He has to take you back to Tannyhill.

But he can’t if you’re completely naked, hidden modesty behind two shells that look like they were strung together from a costume.

He has to help.

He doesn’t know why he wants to.

Shrugging off his jacket, Rafe steadily lets you go to cover you up. Thankfully, the jacket falls mid-thigh, covering up the essentials so that you won’t get arrested for public indecency.

You feel the weight of the fabrics on your shoulders, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. It’s a luxury to receive items like these, to cover yourself up, and it’s only done in the case of mating.

You turn to him, loose strands of hair falling over your face, delicately dancing over your eyes, in a way that makes you have this innocence, natural beauty. “Where I come from, this is considered a marriage proposal,” you declare, using your arms to wrap around his bicep, using Rafe as a walking crunch.

The corner of his mouth lips, amused. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“Let’s get you covered up first, and we can talk about that later.”

You nod, agreeing, and as you plant a small kiss on his cheek, Rafe pulls you inland, across his beach, to his car, and back to Tannyhill.

He’ll figure out everything later.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

𝐬 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐦 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ zach maclaren

playing: 𝟏𝟖 by one direction 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! every winter break, you and your childhood best friend zach’s families plan the annual trip to your family’s cabin in the mountains. but when an accident happens, a guilt-ridden zach is willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel better.

paring: zach maclaren x fem!reader

warnings: childhood friends to lovers , zach accidentally hurts reader , mentions of bruising , angst , lots of fluff (zach is so hopelessly in love with you it hurts) , sexual content + unprotected sex! , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 8.2k

notes: today’s post is a long one but bear w me pls i had to edit so much of it :(

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

“can you grab the spare?” zach calls from the back of the range rover, tugging the luggage out of the trunk.

stepping out of the car, the icy air hits your face like a slap, the sudden chill turning your nose pink and making your cheeks tingle.

“fuck, it’s freezing,” you mutter under your breath, hurrying over to the pile of rocks near the cabin door. your fingers, already stiff and trembling from the cold, fumble as you dig through the stones, searching for the fake rock with the hidden spare key.

finally, you find it and unlock the door. you and zach waste no time rushing inside, flipping on the furnace and switching on the electric fireplace. warm air begins to spill into the room, cutting through the biting chill.

“jesus, it’s brutal out there,” zach says with a laugh, dropping the suitcases by the front door.

“i know,” you reply, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “i don’t get how our parents do it when they get here first.”

your gaze sweeps over the cabin, familiar and cozy even in its current state of disarray. a small smile creeps onto your face as memories flood back. by the time your family usually arrives, the maclarens have already set everything up—lights twinkling, garlands hung, the whole place transformed for the holidays.

but not this year. this year, you and zach got here first. being in college has made it easier for the two of you to make the trip, especially since it’s only a short drive from campus. with your parents tied up at work, they won’t arrive for another two days, leaving you and zach to settle in and prepare the cabin yourselves

zach seems to read your mind as he heads toward the storage closet under the staircase. “the moms mentioned something about the decorations being in here,” he says, pulling open the door.

he starts rummaging through the piles, expecting to find boxes labeled xmas. instead, his hand lands on a stack labeled snowboarding gear. a small smile tugs at his lips.

“guess the decorations can wait,” he says, pulling out the boxes. turning to you, he raises an eyebrow, and you meet his look with a knowing nod. “get dressed.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

you glide across the flat, powdery snow after hopping off the ski lift. the cold air nips at your cheeks, leaving them rosy and warm beneath your baby pink goggles. when you finally stop at the edge of the slope, you tug the goggles up onto your helmet, panting softly as mist forms in the cold air.

zach approaches behind you, stopping at your side. you look up at him, your eyes bright with excitement. “hi,” you say, your breath still catching from the climb.

“hey,” he replies, chuckling softly, his voice warm and steady. he feels something tighten in his chest—your voice, your smile, the way you look at him. if only you knew how effortlessly you could bring him to his knees.

but he would never say it. not to you. not when it could risk the friendship you’ve built over years.

you’ve been inseparable since second grade, when zach worked up the courage to ask for your help mastering the monkey bars. you were the only one who could make it all the way across without falling, and he’d admired you ever since. now, here you are—still together, still tangled in a friendship that means everything, even if it sometimes feels like it could be so much more.

zach isn’t sure when his feelings for you started to shift, turning into something he couldn’t quite name but couldn’t ignore either. maybe it was that afternoon when he was twelve, bedridden with a nasty cold, and you showed up unannounced with a thermos of homemade chicken soup. the soup had been borderline inedible—too salty, with mushy noodles—but the gesture had warmed him in a way he’d never forget. of course, he’d eaten every last bite and told you it was perfect.

or maybe it was on his fifteenth birthday. he’d always treated his birthday like any other day, never one to make a big deal of it, but you didn’t see it that way. while he was out, you snuck into his room and filled it with many presents and blue and black balloons—his favorite colors. he’d walked in, startled by the effort you’d put in just to make him smile, and something about it stuck with him.

or maybe it was the night he ended things with his first long-term girlfriend at seventeen. her problem had been you—the closeness you and zach shared, the bond she couldn’t understand. she’d wanted him to choose, and it wasn’t even a question. when you found out, you didn’t say “i told you so” or press him for details. instead, you showed up with a bag of junk food and a stack of movies. you stayed the whole weekend, laughing, crying over sappy scenes, and talking until the early hours of the morning about your dreams and futures.

in every timeline, in every version of his life, zach knows he’d choose you. over a girlfriend, over a best friend, over anyone.

a soft click pulls zach from his thoughts. glancing down, he sees you already strapped to your snowboard, your goggles perched perfectly on your face. you reach up, offering your hand for help. with barely any effort, zach pulls you to your feet, earning a giggle that tugs at his chest more than he cares to admit.

“i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of this view,” you say softly, taking in the snow-draped mountains and the endless horizon of white and blue.

zach crouches down, fumbling slightly as he straps himself into his board. his fingers falter when he glances up at you. the way your smile glows as you take in the scenery—it’s more breathtaking to him than the view itself.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “me either.”

you turn to him with a playful glint in your eye. “race you down?”

zach chuckles, shaking his head as he secures his last buckle. “no.”

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “why not?”

“because,” he says, standing and stretching, a smug grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll smoke you so fast it’ll almost be sad.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes at the playful jab, but the spark of competition ignites instantly. zach knows you well enough to see it too. before he can say another word, you tug your goggles down, lean forward, and launch yourself down the slope, your speed kicking up a flurry of snow in your wake.

“cheater!” zach yells after you, his voice echoing through the mountain air.

your laughter rings out, light and carefree, as you pull your face cover up to shield yourself from the biting cold. with a determined grin, zach pulls down his goggles and takes off after you, the race already on.

the descent starts smoothly, the rush of cold air whipping past your face as you carve through the snow, the thrill of the slope igniting your competitive streak. you glance over your shoulder, spotting zach gaining on you. he’s fast—faster than you expected—and his determined grin sends a surge of adrenaline through you.

you try to pick up speed, leaning into the next turn, but your edge catches an icy patch. it happens so quickly—a sharp jolt, your balance slipping, and suddenly, you’re tumbling. the world tilts, snow sprays into the air, and before you can even react, you collide with something solid.

or rather, someone.

zach.

the two of you go down in a tangled heap, his snowboard slicing awkwardly into the snow as he tries (and fails) to stop in time. his arms instinctively wrap around you as you both slide a few more feet before finally coming to a stop in a soft bank of powder.

for a moment, everything is still.

you blink up at him, stunned and breathless, your goggles slightly askew. zach’s face hovers inches above yours, his cheeks flushed—not just from the cold.

“you good?” he asks, his voice laced with concern, though his lips twitch into a small smile.

you can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the moment catching up to you. “yeah… i think so. you?”

he nods, chuckling now too. “well, i wasn’t planning on eating snow, but at least i cushioned your fall.”

you roll your eyes, shoving at his chest lightly as he helps you sit up. “cushioned my fall? you practically tackled me.”

“only because you fell first,” he counters, his grin widening.

despite the snow seeping into your clothes and the ache of your tumble, you find yourself laughing again. zach stands, brushing snow off himself before offering you his hand. as he pulls you up, you notice his gaze lingering just a little longer than usual, his smile softer now.

just as the rush of laughter and adrenaline starts to fade, a sharp, sudden pain slices through your side, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp, instinctively clutching your side. “ouch.”

zach’s smile vanishes, his brows knitting together in concern. “what? what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i—” another sharp pang makes you wince, doubling over slightly as you shuffle off to the side of the slope, out of the way of other snowboarders. your hands fumble to tug off your gloves, urgency overriding the cold.

you shove the gloves into zach’s hands without a word and begin unzipping your snow jacket, pulling up your thermal layer to investigate. you crane your neck to look, but the angle makes it impossible to see what’s wrong. the pain is sharp and unrelenting, leaving you wincing as you try to figure it out.

“can you see anything?” you ask, your voice tight.

but zach’s expression answers before he says a word. his eyes widen, his face draining of color as he steps closer, urgency in every movement.

“oh shit,” he mutters, already crouching down to get a better look.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

“intercostal muscle strain,” the doctor says, her tone calm but firm as you sit up with a wince. “you’re very lucky—it could’ve been a fractured or broken rib, and that would’ve been far more painful than what you’re feeling now.”

you nod slowly, wincing again as you pull your clothes back down over your bare torso.

“it’s nothing serious, thankfully,” she continues, scribbling something onto a notepad. “but you’ll need to take it easy—no snowboarding for at least a week.”

you groan dramatically, throwing your arm over your eyes in exasperation, only to regret it instantly as the ache in your side flares. you hiss through your teeth, lowering your arm gingerly.

the doctor hides a small smile at your frustration. “get plenty of rest, and take two 500mg Tylenol every 4–6 hours to help with the pain,” she advises. “for the bruising, you can pick up some arnica gel or aloe vera at a pharmacy—it’ll help with the inflammation.”

zach, who’s been quietly standing at your side the whole time, finally speaks up. “so no snowboarding at all?”

“none,” the doctor confirms, looking at you pointedly.

zach lets out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful nothing was broken, though the guilt still gnaws at him. that tumble had cost you a week of your vacation, and the thought that he played a part in it made his chest ache.

his hand rests idly on the edge of your pillow, his mind clouded with regret, when he suddenly feels your fingers brush against his. his gaze shifts to yours, and he knows immediately that you’ve read him like a book.

the doctor steps out, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. she’s seen the unspoken bond between the two of you—something that everyone else seems to notice, even if you and zach haven’t admitted it to yourselves.

“i’m so sorry—” zach starts, his voice heavy with remorse, but you cut him off with a gentle shake of your head.

“it wasn’t your fault, zach,” you say firmly, your voice soft yet steady. your fingers trace small patterns on the back of his hand, grounding him. “there was no way to stop that fall from happening, or for you to avoid crashing into me. it was just… one of those things.”

zach looks down at your intertwined fingers, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

you smile, swinging your legs carefully over the edge of the bed to stand. “though i do wish you hadn’t elbowed me so hard in the process.”

your playful jab makes him groan, dropping his head into his hand. “you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“not a chance,” you tease, grinning as you test your balance on your feet.

his guilty expression softens into something lighter, his lips quirking into a small smile as he watches you. “fair enough,” he murmurs, his tone filled with a mix of relief and something deeper he doesn’t quite let himself say.

as per the doctor’s advice, you and zach stopped at a nearby pharmacy on the way back to the cabin, picking up some arnica gel for the swelling and a bottle of tylenol. zach had insisted on carrying everything, even as you rolled your eyes and tried to insist you were fine.

back at the cabin, he’d gone into full caretaker mode. now, you were nestled on the couch in your favorite pajamas, surrounded by fluffed pillows, a warm blanket, and fuzzy socks. zach had even turned on your favorite comfort show, leaving no detail overlooked.

in the kitchen, you could hear him speaking quietly with your parents on the phone. the tone of his voice was calm and reassuring, though you caught a few words here and there about “keeping an eye on her” and “following doctor’s orders.”

“yeah, I will. alright—yeah, sounds good, I’ll let her know. oh- okay. bye.”

zach ended the call, setting his phone down on the kitchen island before heading over to you with a water bottle, a couple of tylenol pills, and a snack bowl balanced in his hands. he plopped onto the couch next to you, a small laugh escaping as he handed you the items.

“let me guess,” you started, mockingly, “make sure she’s actually taking the pain meds and don’t let her go snowboarding no matter how much she begs.”

zach laughed, shaking his head. “pretty much. they’re just worried about you. it took a lot of convincing to stop them from dropping everything at work and driving straight to the hospital.”

you took the water bottle and pills, rolling your eyes as you scanned the label. “this is bullshit. i feel fine. it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”

zach raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “don’t lie. i can hear you cursing under your breath every time you move too fast.”

he twisted open the water bottle and popped open the tylenol, handing them back to you with an air of exaggerated patience.

“i can open my own stuff, you know,” you grumbled, though you took both from him.

“sure, you can,” he said, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. “but this way, i get to feel useful. so, humor me.”

you roll your eyes but oblige, popping the pills into your mouth and washing them down with a gulp of water. for the rest of the afternoon, you and zach fully embraced the art of laziness. you binged several episodes of your comfort show, made your way through the entire snack bowl, and eventually ordered pizza, which arrived just as the last crumbs of chips were devoured—all within four hours.

the warmth of the blanket, the soft hum of the TV, and the exhaustion from the day caught up with you. before you knew it, your eyes drifted shut, the drowsiness overpowering. when you woke, it was to the gentle sensation of zach’s fingers absentmindedly scratching your scalp, the rhythm soothing and familiar.

blinking groggily, you realized your head was resting on his chest. you froze for a split second, then relaxed as the memory of shifting there for comfort came back to you. his chest was sturdy, warm, and—well—perfectly positioned to avoid putting pressure on your sore side. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“hi,” you croaked, voice raspy with sleep.

“hey,” zach replied softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. his hand paused in your hair briefly before he added, “you need to put the arnica gel on your bruise.”

you groaned in protest, burying your face further into his chest like a stubborn child. the vibration of his laugh rumbled beneath you, warm and familiar.

“c’mon,” he coaxed, leaning forward carefully so you weren’t jostled, reaching for the small container of arnica on the coffee table. his other arm stayed around you, steadying you as he sat back.

with a reluctant sigh, you pushed yourself off him, grumbling as you lifted your pajama shirt just enough to expose the bruised area. even with the pain dulled from the meds, the stretch made you wince, and you let the shirt drop again with a frustrated groan.

“can you help me put it on?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

zach hesitated for a beat, the question catching him off guard. you didn’t notice, but his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the proximity and intimacy of the request making his pulse quicken.

“yeah, of course,” he said, his voice steady despite the way his heart raced. he unscrewed the lid, squeezing a small amount of the gel onto his fingers before looking at you. when you nodded, he shifted closer, his movements gentle and deliberate as he applied the gel to your side.

his touch was careful, almost hesitant, as if afraid of hurting you. “let me know if it stings,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

“it’s fine,” you replied softly, your eyes closing again as the soothing coolness of the gel and his careful touch eased the ache.

zach’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he worked the now-warmed gel into your skin. the rhythmic motion of his fingers was steady, but inside, his composure was unraveling. there was something undeniably intimate about this moment—your quiet, fluttering reactions every time his fingers brushed a new spot, the way your breath hitched when he applied just the right amount of pressure.

his fingers moved instinctively, lifting your shirt a little higher to cover the edges of the bruise, and that’s when he saw it. the small, delicate tattoo just below the curve of your breast.

divine feminine.

the words seemed to stare back at him, burning into his mind as his breath hitched. he swallowed hard, his hand pausing briefly before continuing, slower this time. zach could feel his body reacting in ways he knew it shouldn’t. his chest tightened, and he bit down on his bottom lip, trying to keep himself grounded as warmth pooled low in his stomach.

then you let out a soft, unintentional moan—a mix of pain and relief as his fingers brushed over a particularly tender spot. the sound, quiet and fleeting, sent a chill through him. he froze, inhaling sharply, his hands momentarily still against your side.

your eyes fluttered open, hazy with the remnants of drowsiness. “i’m sorry,” zach murmured, his voice tight.

concern crosses your features as you began to sit up. “zach, it’s fine,” you said, misinterpreting his sudden apology. “it didn’t hurt. i promise.”

but that wasn’t it. not at all.

no, zach wasn’t thinking about the gel, the bruise, or even the fact that he might’ve applied too much pressure. his thoughts had plunged into dangerous territory, spiraling with images he couldn’t suppress.

he was imagining you making that sound again—but for entirely different reasons. how your breathless moans might sound against his ear as you writhed beneath him, your body arching into his as you begged for him to let you cum.

how you might look with your face pressed into the pillows, gripping the sheets, gasping his name in broken cries as he pounded relentlessly inside you from behind, squeezing tightly around him, his hands gripping your hips firmly but gently, guiding you to him.

zach blinked, forcing himself back to the present, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. he dragged a hand through his hair, quickly standing up and mumbling something about needing a drink of water, leaving you puzzled and slightly concerned as he practically fled to the kitchen.

you stood up, muttering a low curse under your breath as the ache in your side flared. despite the pain, you followed him into the kitchen, determined to figure out what was wrong.

“zach,” you called softly, your voice breaking the quiet. he didn’t turn, his back to you, shoulders tense as he stared down at the empty glass in his hands.

stepping closer, you positioned yourself in front of him, standing just beneath his gaze. even then, he refused to look at you, his jaw clenched tightly.

“zach,” you repeated, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, cupping it to force his eyes to meet yours. the warmth of your touch was almost unbearable for him.

“don’t—” he mumbled, voice low and strained, his gaze flickering to the side as if avoiding yours could somehow mask the turmoil written all over his face.

but you saw it anyway—guilt. raw and unfiltered, pooling in his dark eyes and spilling over in the form of unshed tears.

“zach, what is it?” you asked, your voice soft, barely above a whisper in the still air.

he blinked hard, his breathing uneven as he struggled to hold himself together. the weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on his chest. you trusted him, leaned on him when you were in pain, and here he was, betraying that trust in the worst way—fantasizing about you.

the images haunted him. he couldn’t stop the shameful loop of memories from late nights in his dorm, where he would close his eyes and imagine you in ways he couldn’t admit aloud. he would picture you on top of him, trying to adjust to his size, your brows furrowed and lips parted in quiet gasps. how you might bite your lip to stifle your moans, only to collapse onto his chest when you came undone, breathless and trembling.

but those were just fantasies, fleeting and far removed from reality. they weren’t supposed to bleed into a moment like this—when you were hurt, vulnerable, and looking at him with those wide, concerned eyes.

he squeezed his eyes shut, his voice barely audible. “you were hurt because of me, and i—i can’t stop thinking about…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to physically dispel the thoughts. “it’s not right. i’m not right.”

you frowned, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing gesture. “zach, talk to me. what’s going on?”

he hesitated, his chest rising and falling as he wrestled with himself, unsure if he could say the words that would change everything.

“hey.” your voice was firm yet gentle, cutting through the silence. zach’s eyes opened, hesitantly meeting yours.

“it’s me,” you said, your tone softening. “you can tell me anything, zach. you know that.”

he chewed the inside of his cheek, his jaw tightening as he tried to muster the courage to speak. “i’m so sorry, y/n,” he began, voice heavy with guilt. “i feel awful about what happened today—about you getting hurt. and then you’re here, trusting me to help you, and i’m…” he trailed off, sighing deeply as he covered his eyes with his hand. “i’m trying so hard to control myself, and it’s not okay.”

your brows furrowed as you processed his words, trying to piece together what he meant. the hesitation in his voice, the way he avoided your gaze—it all felt so unlike him.

then, as your eyes flickered downward, you noticed it. the unmistakable bulge in the fabric of his sweats. your breath hitched in realization, a soft gasp escaping your lips before you could stop it.

zach’s hand remained firmly over his eyes, his posture rigid as if bracing himself for your reaction. the room felt impossibly still, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavy in the air.

you reached up, your fingers wrapping gently around his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. zach resisted for a moment, but when he finally let you guide him, his eyes met yours—hesitant, filled with embarrassment.

you offered him a small, reassuring smile, one that melted the tension in his features ever so slightly. without a word, you leaned in, your lips brushing softly against his in a kiss that was both hesitant and deliberate.

his brows furrowed, his body frozen for a split second, caught off guard by your sudden boldness. but then, as if a switch flipped, he responded, his hands instinctively finding your face. his touch was firm yet gentle, cradling you as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

it was tender and charged all at once, a silent confession spilling between you both without the need for words. the kitchen, the guilt, the tension—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in the moment you hadn’t realized both been waiting for.

your small hands gripped the sides of his sweater near his waist, anchoring yourself to him as his tongue slipped into your mouth without warning. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a soft gasp escaping your lips. every movement—every stroke of his tongue against yours, every firm tug of your hair—set your senses on fire, unraveling emotions you’d worked so hard to bury.

of course you liked zach.

you always had.

the realization hit you like a flood, overwhelming and undeniable. you had tucked those feelings deep into the corners of your heart, afraid of what would happen if zach ever found out. you couldn’t bear the thought of ruining what you had. but the truth was simple: your heart had always been his.

you loved him.

zach pulled back suddenly, breaking the kiss as both of you panted for air. his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and ragged. “wait, wait—” he murmured, his voice low and unsteady.

you whimpered softly, a needy sound you didn’t mean to let out and his cock twitched at it. “zach, please,” you whispered, desperate to feel his lips on yours again, the taste of him still lingering.

he smiled softly, brushing a quick kiss against your lips that left you craving more. “i know, m’sorry, baby,” he murmured.

the nickname made your stomach flutter, sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the cozy cabin. you sighed, tilting your head to look up at him, waiting for the words that you knew were coming.

zach’s face was conflicted, his brows drawn together as he avoided your gaze for a moment. “i can’t believe i’m saying this… but we can’t tonight,” he admitted, chewing on his bottom lip in that pained way he did when he was struggling with something.

you groaned softly, the disappointment evident in your expression. your eyes softened as you saw the genuine concern etched into his face.

“i don’t want to hurt you even more,” he continued, his hand brushing lightly against your side. “and it could make your injury worse.”

“zach,” you whined, leaning your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “we’ll be careful,” you pleaded, your voice soft and hopeful.

you tilted your head back up, your big, pleading eyes locking with his. you knew exactly the effect they had on him, and for a second, you saw him falter. his jaw tightened as he exhaled a shaky breath, clearly battling with himself.

zach let out a defeated sigh, his resolve crumbling as he crouched down and effortlessly lifted your legs around his waist. the sudden motion made you giggle, clinging to him instinctively. “i win,” you teased breathlessly, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

his only response was a sly smirk before pinching your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “careful, or i might change my mind,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he carried you to the bed.

the soft mattress welcomed you as he laid you down gently, the warm glow of the electric fireplace casting flickering shadows across the room. the heat of the moment mirrored the cozy warmth surrounding you both.

zach slid between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he settled there, his aching length pressing against you in a way that made your heart race. neither of you hesitated—your lips collided in a fervent kiss, all hunger and passion, as if this moment had been years in the making. which it was.

your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer. his lips moved against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own, each kiss deeper, more intoxicating, than the last. it felt as if the rest of the world melted away, leaving only the two of you in the crackling warmth of the cabin.

“god, you have no idea how much i’ve wanted this,” zach murmurs against your lips, his voice a mix of hunger and longing. your response is a soft moan, quiet but fervent, that makes him press even closer.

he trails a series of slow, teasing kisses down your neck, each nip and suck prompting a sweet, aching arch from your body—until a sudden twinge in your side makes you wince. zach notices immediately, pulling back, concern flooding his eyes. “you okay?”

you nod, forcing a soft smile while trying to mask the lingering pain. you’ve waited too long for this moment and the last thing you want is for him to stop.

he studies you for a second, as if assessing whether you’re truly good, then sits back on his legs. “alright,” he says, voice calm but resolute, “this is how it’s gonna go, then. you can’t move. at all.”

your brows draw together, half-expecting him to crack a grin. but he doesn’t. he’s serious, his gaze unwavering.

“if you move,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, “or try to, i’ll stop.”

you swallow, the weight of his words and the gentle authority in his tone sending a surge of arousal low into your belly. you bite the inside of your cheek, eyes fixed on him, already imagining how you’ll manage to keep still under his touch.

“okay,” you whisper, voice steady but laced with anticipation.

zach’s fingertips skimmed over the outside of your closed thighs, his touch feather-light yet deliberate, as if savoring the moment before taking it further. you watched him through half-lidded eyes, heart thrumming in your chest. with patient care, he began to slide your pajama pants down, revealing your baby blue lace underwear.

his throat worked over a hard swallow as he took you in, jaw clenching and pulse thrumming hot beneath his skin. he could feel himself respond immediately—his cock straining against the softness of his sweats. you saw the way his eyes darkened, how that gentle composure threatened to unravel.

without a word, he eased the lace down as well, leaving you bare before him. instinctively, you kept your thighs pressed together, a final barrier of modesty even as your cheeks warmed. he paused, taking in the sight—the subtle flush on your skin—letting the tension in the air stretch taut.

his gaze flickered up to yours, intense and wordless, the warm glow of the fireplace painting both of you in golden hues that made everything feel dreamy and far removed from the outside world.

“perfect,” he whispered, the single word washing over you, making your skin prickle with a delicious heat. it was as if he saw you in a new light—something delicate and cherished. you felt the flush rise all the way from your chest to your cheeks.

he worked on the buttons of your top with gentle care, careful not to brush too roughly near your bruise. his eyes softened the moment the fabric parted, revealing the tender, discolored skin along your ribs. it was more than just concern written in his features—there was affection, regret, and a silent promise to be gentle.

before you could protest or reassure him, his head dipped down, pressing a series of soft, reverent kisses to the bruise as he eased the top off you, leaving you bare. you shivered under the weight of his tenderness, the careful attention making you feel impossibly close to him.

his fingers drifted lower along your navel, the sensitive skin prickling under his touch. he nuzzled his head beneath your jaw, encouraging you to tilt your head and grant him better access as he breathed slowly, evenly, his warm breath fanning over your throat. just as you began to surrender to the sensation of his lips on your neck, he slipped his hand further down, exploring the softness between your legs.

the first gentle slide of his fingertips through your slick folds made your jaw slacken, a quiet gasp escaping. gathering your wetness, he began to trace slow, deliberate shapes over your clit, drawing you into a heady rhythm that set every nerve alight. your body instinctively wanted to rise to meet his touch, but each time your hips started to rock forward, he’d slow his pace, lifting his gaze to give you a knowing, pointed look—reminding you of your earlier agreement.

the unspoken rule was clear: no moving. you had to let him lead, to trust him completely. caught between sweet frustration and delicious anticipation, you let out a shaky breath and let him guide your pleasure, your heart pounding in your ears.

“shit—you’re soaking,” zach groaned, voice low and strained as he picked up the pace of his fingers. each curl and slide drew out soft, breathy whimpers that spilled from your parted lips. he wore a look of intense concentration, as though memorizing every sound you made.

without warning, his middle finger pressed at your entrance before slowly sinking in, earning a strangled moan that made him nuzzle deeper into your neck. “god,” he breathed, voice muffled against your skin, “you feel so good.” you tightened around him reflexively, and he groaned, the vibration of his voice sending sparks along your spine.

straightening up, he shifted to sit back on his legs, changing the angle and giving himself a better view. he guided your knee down flat against the mattress, not just for his eyes but to ensure you couldn’t easily arch into his touch. a high, keening moan tore from your throat as he curled his finger inside you, hitting that perfect spot that sent tremors through your thighs.

you fought the urge to lift your hips, remembering his warning. still, your body trembled with the need to move, to push deeper into that intoxicating sensation. zach noticed—how could he not?—and it fueled the dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. he knew you were on the edge, knew how badly you wanted to give in.

meanwhile, his own restraint was wearing thin. he was hard—achingly so—and the slow, deliberate way you clenched around his finger nearly did him in. but he held back and added a second finger, pulling a sharp moan from you. if you couldn’t keep still now, how could you handle all of him inside you? this was a test of sorts, a delicious torment, and he was savoring every second.

he felt the way you clenched around his fingers, each flutter and squeeze like a plea for release. your hand gripped his wrist, desperate and trembling, but his pace never wavered. “gonna cum for me, angel?” he asked, voice heavy with anticipation.

you nodded frantically, wordless cries tumbling past your lips as he kept hitting that perfect spot inside you. the pressure built swiftly, stealing your breath, until you shattered around him. your vision went white, the world narrowing down to nothing but the pleasure he wrung from your body.

he guided you through it, not stopping until your muscles started to twitch with the first hints of overstimulation. finally, he slowed, easing you down until your body relaxed beneath him, trembling and sated.

with deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers, eyes locked on yours. you watched as he brought them to his mouth, his gaze never leaving your face. he sucked on the digits, tasting you the way he’d imagined a thousand times, letting out a deep, appreciative groan. the warmth of his breath on your skin, the soft glow around you both—everything felt charged and intimate, humming with the understanding that nothing would be the same between you again.

zach tugged his sweatshirt off in one smooth, hurried motion, the fabric barely brushing his skin before it landed somewhere on the floor. the urgency in his movements was unmistakable—he was desperate to feel you against him again. every nerve in his body was alight, the ache of wanting you growing more intense by the second.

with a quick push, he lowered his sweatpants and boxers together, freeing himself in one swift motion. the sight of him made your pulse stumble. he was huge—imposingly so—and the thought of taking him in had your breath catching in your throat. you tried to keep your expression neutral, but the widening of your eyes gave you away.

zach noticed. a hint of a smirk ghosted his lips as he settled himself between your thighs, his length resting hot and heavy against your abdomen. leaning down, he caught your mouth in a kiss that was both tender and all-consuming, as if he needed to show you how much he wanted you, how badly he craved this moment with you.

“it’s okay, baby,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and reassuring. “we’ll make it fit.” he pulled back slightly, just enough to watch your face as he guided his tip to your entrance. he gave himself a few slow pumps, as though trying to ease the ache and calm the racing of his own heartbeat.

your breath caught again, excitement and nervous anticipation mingling as he hovered there, every second swelling with tension and promise.

he pressed forward slowly, a careful, deliberate push that drew a ragged gasp from both of you. his forehead hovered just above yours, the soft brush of your lips more an exchange of breath than a kiss, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping gently as he eased himself deeper. small, shallow strokes let you stretch around him, adjusting inch by inch.

your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the dull ache that signaled your body opening to him. he paused when he was fully sheathed, giving you time to accommodate his size. your breath caught as his pelvis brushed against your clit, sparking a low moan from your chest. then he pulled back just enough, pushing forward again to repeat the motion, sending soft ripples of pleasure through you. each gentle thrust replaced pain with gathering warmth, and you felt your body relaxing, welcoming him fully as a quiet whimper escaped your throat.

soon, the discomfort faded entirely, leaving only the sweet, humming pleasure of his movements. once he sensed the tension melt from your muscles, he began a steady, more confident rhythm. a subtle shift in angle, and before long, he had your legs wrapped around his waist, granting him deeper access. the pace picked up, each thrust punctuated by the soft slap of skin and echoed moans that drifted through the room.

you couldn’t hold back a curse at the intensity of it all—his body pressed to yours, filling you so completely, his breathing mixing with yours in frantic, needy staccato. it was raw and intoxicating, the two of you lost in the moment, in each other.

“mm, s’ so deep,” you whimpered, voice catching as you glanced down between your bodies. the sight of him disappearing into you with each thrust made your stomach flutter, your walls gripping him tightly.

zach’s breathing turned ragged, trying to maintain enough control to keep you safe and comfortable. but the temptation was too strong, and he gave a particularly sharp thrust, testing your reaction. you yelped, not in pain but in startled pleasure, and he felt you clench around him in response. encouraged, he repeated it until you were left hiccuping between sobs of bliss, every stroke drawing you closer to that sweet oblivion.

“i know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with need. leaning down, he braced himself and brought his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. he stroked firm, fast circles, determined to send you over the edge first. your nails raked along his shoulders, your breath hitching with each spiral of sensation. the coil in your belly tightened, ready to snap, as he coaxed you closer and closer toward that shattering release.

“—zach,” you warned, voice thin and strained. his response was a low, desperate moan, fingers and hips working in tandem, never giving you a moment’s respite. every thrust felt deeper than the last, his fingertips circling that swollen, sensitive spot until you were on the verge of unraveling completely.

“c’mon, baby,” he coaxed, voice rough and urgent. “soak me. i wanna feel it.” his pace quickened, hips snapping forward, and you gasped as a wave of pleasure hit you hard and fast. your walls clamped down around him, body arching, a silent scream caught in your throat as you were hurled headfirst into bliss.

zach kept moving, guiding you through the aftershocks, his cock dragging through your pulsing muscles as you trembled beneath him. your moans tumbled into whimpers, every nerve still singing with overstimulation. your fingers curled into his shoulders, breath coming in ragged gasps. “please cum inside me,” you begged, voice shaky and raw, desperate to feel him follow you into that world of sensation.

you felt him stiffen, his rhythm faltering as he pressed closer, every breath hot against your ear. with a low, guttural moan, he finally let go, hips rolling gently as he filled you, warmth spreading with each soft pulse. you could feel it, the tension draining from his body, leaving both of you weightless and sated.

his forehead dipped into the crook of your neck, lips pressing languid, grateful kisses against your skin. he was careful with his weight, mindful of your injury and the tenderness in your body, as both of you lingered in the lingering glow. your breaths intermingled, still coming in soft, uneven gasps as you drifted down from that blissful high.

after a moment, he slowly pulled out, making you both hiss quietly at the sensitivity. he rolled onto his side, immediately reaching for you and covering both of your cooling bodies with the duvet. you shifted to face him, still a little breathless, your eyes meeting as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“hi,” you managed, voice husky and soft, a small, contented smile curving your lips.

a quiet laugh escaped him, his arm moving soothingly up and down your back. “hey,” he replied, voice deep and warm, as if speaking in a secret language only the two of you understood.

“i don’t think i told you this earlier but…” you begin, voice soft and cautious as you search for the right words. “i’m all in, zach.” your heart is pounding in your ears, and you’re pretty sure he can feel it where he’s pressed close to you under the duvet.

zach’s eyes soften, a gentle smile curving his lips. the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes gives away his relief. you draw a shaky breath, forging ahead. “i feel like you know you’ve always been it for me. or even if you didn’t, i did. you’re my endgame.”

you’re watching him carefully, looking for any flicker of doubt or hesitation, but all you see is the same warmth and affection you’ve been craving for years.

he doesn’t say a word at first, just leans in and kisses you—slow and deliberate, a silent promise pressed softly into your lips. then he moves along your cheek, brushing your skin with tender pecks, and keeps going until you’re giggling, trying to squirm away from his playful assault of affection.

when he finally pulls back, both of you breathless with laughter, he meets your gaze head-on. “i’ve always loved you, y/n,” he says, voice steady and sure. “you’re it for me.”

your heart swells, and you think you’ve never been happier than in this very moment, wrapped up in his arms, secure in the certainty of what comes next.

for the rest of the night, you and zach drifted in and out of conversation—those familiar, meandering chats that never really needed a point—punctuated by soft laughter and sweet nothings murmured into the darkness. in the quiet spaces, you made love again and again, as if making up for all the time lost.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

the next morning, you woke to find the bed empty. you stretched, the slight ache in your side a warm reminder of the day before. slipping into zach’s sweater and a pair of sleep shorts, you followed the glow of holiday lights out of the bedroom. as you reached the upstairs landing, your eyes widened at the transformation: the entire cabin, from the top floor down, was strung with festive garlands, sparkling ornaments, and twinkling lights.

a fond smile curved on your lips as you descended the stairs, drawn toward the kitchen by soft clinks and muffled curses. rounding the corner, you spotted zach at the stove, his back to you, clearly wrestling with some culinary experiment. “morning,” you said, leaning your elbows on the island.

he turned quickly, an anxious frown on his face. “did i wake you?” he asked, only to relax when you shook your head. you slipped behind the island to join him, his arms sliding around your waist as you took in the sight of eggs and batter, a haphazard attempt at breakfast. “wanted to surprise you,” he murmured into your hair. you giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

“good morning, baby,” zach said softly, smiling down at you.

just then, the front door swung open. in came both sets of parents and a handful of siblings, chatter and laughter echoing off the wood-paneled walls. “hello, hello!” your mom’s voice rang out. before you and zach could step apart or even explain yourselves, she rounded the corner into the kitchen. the scene she found: zach nuzzling your neck, you murmuring about how sweet he was being, both of you bathed in the soft glow of holiday lights.

you froze, cheeks flushing, while zach’s arms tightened protectively around you. your families, already grinning from the doorway, seemed more than pleased to discover the truth you’d both been too shy to admit—until now.

“alright, i called it! everyone cough it up!” avery, zach’s little sister, crowed triumphantly. your families groaned in unison, each one reluctantly digging into their pockets to hand over five dollars. avery quickly amassed thirty bucks in her palm, grinning from ear to ear.

you and zach exchanged a look, trying and failing to stifle your laughter before pulling apart and greeting everyone properly. you embraced each of them in turn, still a bit stunned to see them all here a day early. the cabin brimmed with the scent of pine, hot chocolate, and something baking in the oven—warmth and comfort encapsulated in one cozy scene.

for the remainder of your winter break, you and zach reveled in that feeling of family and togetherness. your days filled with laughter echoing off the wooden walls, good-natured bickering with siblings over board games, and playful teasing from your parents that had both of you blushing more than once. above all, there was the gentle thrill of reaching for zach’s hand under the table, catching his eye across the room, and feeling love wrapped around you like a warm blanket against the cold outside.

© aerialmirrorss

capital b, capital o, capital a, capital f. BOAF!!!

THEY EVEN FUCKING WALK THE SAME

i need him BAD

texts between bsf!jj x reader pt. 1

masterlist

warnings; swearing, mention of drugs

december will be full of abundance

december will be full of love

december will be full of family

december will be full of self care

december will be full of studying

december will be full of good grades

december will be full of fun

december will be full of discipline

december will be full of cute clothes

december will be full of winter shows

december will be full of makeup purchases

december will be full of cozy blankets

december will be full of hot chocolate

december will be full of fun activities

december will be full of working towards goals

december will be full of everything my heart desires and more

my show is on!!!

—01 MEET THE CAMERONS.

MASTERLIST

Parenting Style:

You:

⌗ you’re the glue that holds everything together. you’re the calm in the storm, trying to create some order amidst the chaos rafe and the kids inevitably bring. you're fair but firm when it comes to rules and expectations, though you’re not afraid to bend the rules to make everyone happy sometimes.

⌗ you’re the one who handles the serious stuff, like school projects, making sure everyone gets to their activities on time, and having family meetings when things get too crazy.

⌗ your biggest challenge is managing the emotional rollercoaster that is rafe's unpredictable behavior while also balancing the needs of the kids.

⌗ you’re a very hands-on parent, emotionally available for your kids. giving them the space to grow but also have a warm side. you always know when to step in with advice or affection and when to let them figure things out on their own.

Rafe:

⌗ rafe tries to be the “cool dad” who doesn’t follow any rules, especially when it comes to his teens. he’s big on freedom, thinking his kids should have the freedom to make mistakes and learn from them. but when it comes to his younger kids, he's surprisingly soft. when you’re not around, rafe’s the one sneaking treats to the kids or letting them stay up way past bedtime because “who needs sleep anyway?”

⌗ rafe’s biggest flaw is his impulsiveness, which often leads to trouble. he's not exactly a role model in terms of structure, but his kids love him for his authenticity, especially when they’re old enough to understand how flawed he is.

⌗ while he's overprotective in some ways (especially with his oldest daughter), rafe does everything with love. he’s not the parent who will sit down and have deep heart-to-heart talks, but he’ll show love in unconventional ways, like fixing a bike or defending them fiercely when someone dares to challenge them.

⌗ rafe can’t resist showing off to the kids—whether it’s bragging about something ridiculous or trying to impress them with his "skills." but he’s deeply emotional when it comes to his family and would do anything to protect them (even if his methods are questionable).

The Kids:

AVA CAMERON (15)

PERSONALITY ava is headstrong, sarcastic, and fearless. she takes after both you and rafe—she has your intelligence and sharp wit but rafe’s defiance and impulsiveness. she’s known for pushing boundaries, especially with rafe, whom she has a love-hate relationship with. she’ll challenge him on everything, but deep down, she knows he’d do anything for her.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER DAD ava and rafe constantly butt heads. she thinks his overprotectiveness is ridiculous, but she secretly craves his approval. she’ll act tough, but she’s incredibly sensitive, and rafe is the first person she goes to when she needs emotional support (though it’s rarely obvious to anyone else).

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM you and ava have a special bond where you can communicate with just a glance. you know when she’s upset or hiding something, and she knows you’re the one she can go to when rafe is being... rafe. she trusts you even though she keeps a lot of her emotions locked away.

FUN FACT ava is known for sneaking out of the house with her friends or boyfriend, and while rafe might rage over it, you just give her a disappointed look, and she feels guilty enough to come clean.

MILO CAMERON (10)

PERSONALITY milo is a mischief-maker who often finds himself caught between his older sister’s drama and rafe’s wild ideas. he’s sarcastic but with a more dry sense of humor and often the mediator when things go off the rails in the family. milo is the kid who, when faced with chaos, will either laugh or attempt to solve it with a quirky solution.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS DAD milo is rafe’s favorite person to hang out with because milo can keep up with his energy and unpredictability. they do a lot of “guy stuff” together, like fixing things around the house, going on “secret” adventures, or talking about the things rafe pretends to be an expert at.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS MOM you and milo are like two peas in a pod. he’s very emotionally in tune with you and often tries to cheer you up when he knows you're dealing with rafe’s chaos. he knows how to make you laugh in the most stressful moments.

FUN FACT milo has a knack for getting out of trouble. if he gets in trouble at school, he’ll somehow find a way to talk his way out of it, often with rafe’s unintentional help.

POPPY CAMERON (3)

PERSONALITY poppy is the wild child, known for her tantrums and her adorably mischievous smile. she’s fearless, loves to run around the house, and has a particular love for barry (who, of course, enables her chaos). she’s the youngest, so she gets away with everything, and she knows it.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER DAD rafe is a softie when it comes to poppy. he’s the one who’ll give her anything she asks for, even if it’s a sugar-loaded snack before dinner. he finds her tantrums funny rather than frustrating, which makes you roll your eyes—but secretly, you love how much he dotes on her.

RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM you’re the one who has to deal with poppy’s “I want this NOW” demands. poppy has you wrapped around her little finger, and she knows it. she’s also the first to notice when you're upset and will crawl into your lap to comfort you, even if it’s just by offering you a cookie.

FUN FACT she has rafe under her spell and often drags him into her mischief.

FAMILY DYNAMICS

DINNER TIME at your house is a mix of chaos and love. ava will be sulking about curfew, milo will be chatting about his day with such enthusiasm that you and rafe can’t help but laugh, and poppy will spill her drink all over the table, leading to more chaos.

RAFE WILL ALWAYS try to sneak in action-packed movies (and somehow convince you to let the kids watch them). you’ll try to suggest a family-friendly comedy, but it’s usually a battle. in the end, everyone ends up in the living room, snacks everywhere, with rafe on the couch like a proud, mischievous child.

RAFE GIVES THE WORST, but most well-meaning advice. he’ll tell ava to “not let anyone tell you what to do” when she’s dealing with bullies at school. when milo gets in trouble for a school prank, rafe will secretly high-five him while you give rafe a disapproving look.

EVERY TIME ONE of the kids gets in trouble, rafe somehow shows up with a spontaneous adventure—a trip to the beach, a surprise boat ride, or letting them stay up an extra hour to do something “fun.” it’s his way of showing love, but it doesn’t always help their behavior.

YOU’RE ALWAYS THE ONE to solve the problems rafe causes—whether it’s calming down ava after an argument or cleaning up after poppy’s mess. but your kids know that, despite the chaos, you’re the rock of the family. your love for them is unshakable, even when things are a mess.

a/n: meet the maybanks coming tm <333

🏷️: @rafecameronswifeyy @papercranesandinkstains @akobx @delicatevamps @sereneera @ethanthequeefqueen @zuccheromorena @theanonymousloser @chalahyung01 @mystic-megumi @acidfeens @judesgfirl @rubiehart @callieyanderechan @amterasuu @smithieandy @theeternaloptimistt @marleymarleymarleymarley @lilygrxcem @fieryghxul @luvelola @aias-fxtns @starkeysbaby @brxght-world @drewsswifeyy