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nadvs · 2 months ago

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push and pull (part one)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

author’s note finally wrote the zach/rafe twin au!! i won’t be making this a series but it was so fun to write as a one-shot (that had to turn into a two-shot because i ran out of post space lol)

tags college au set in the obx universe. mutual pining. angst. love triangle. miscommunication. no smut. rafe endgame (s2 bangs supremacy) (sorry to my zach girlies)

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post

» masterlist

Everyone can tell the Cameron twins apart by their hair.

Zach’s is short and unkept, always looking like he just ran off the soccer field, while Rafe keeps his a little longer, soft strands hanging over his forehead, every edge neat and clean.

From the moment you first see them together, you can tell that the two couldn’t be more different. And you don’t need to rely on any tricks like looking at their hair to know who’s who.

It’s their eyes that give them away. While they’re the same captivating shade of blue, Zach has a sense of hope in his eyes that Rafe doesn’t.

────୨ৎ────

Your father has been coaching your college’s men’s soccer team for most of his career. When the directors of the athletic department kept pestering him about the team needing a social media presence for the school’s PR, he asked you if you’d be interested.

As a freshman, the part-time job seemed like a fun way to get to know people, so you accepted the position and made a TikTok account for the team.

Since the start of the season, of all the soccer players, Zach has been the most welcoming. He goes along with whatever you need for work, humoring you when you hold up your phone and ask him trending questions for videos, like what his lockscreen is or what superstitions he follows before a game.

As time went on, you felt yourself gravitating more and more towards him, watching him in awe whenever you came by the field during practices and games.

Eventually, he started inviting you to the close-knit team’s hangouts. You quickly and seamlessly joined the friend group within a few weeks.

Before you knew it, you had a serious crush on him. He’s handsome and funny and a total sweetheart. What makes it so complicated is that you can’t read him at all.

He’s nice to you, but he’s nice to everyone. Maybe your feelings are unrequited, but you hold onto hope that he looks at you the same way you look at him.

It’s a Friday night when you visit Zach’s place for the first time. You’re sitting in the living room with a few of his teammates and their girlfriends, your empty takeout containers scattered over the coffee table, the sound of the autumn wind rushing past the windows reduced to a whisper beneath your loud conversation.

Zach had already told you he had a twin brother that he lived with in a loft off-campus, but when you rest your eyes on Rafe for the first time as he comes through the front door, it’s surprisingly jarring to see someone identical to Zach.

The chatter continues around you as you watch Rafe toss his keys onto the end table, drop a duffle bag, and silently walk into the open-concept kitchen. He swings open the fridge, keeping his head down.

His hair is damp, sweat glistening on his skin. His shirt is plastered to his torso, the planes of his muscles angular and sharp, not leaving much to the imagination.

“You haven’t met my less handsome brother yet,” Zach jokes to you. He points to Rafe, then to you, introducing you to each other.

“Hi,” you say kindly.

When Rafe meets your gaze, he stills for a moment, eyes almost imperceptibly widening. A couple seconds of silence pass.

“Hey,” he finally offers with a quick, tense nod.

“How was your workout?” Zach asks.

Rafe pulls a protein shake out of the fridge and swings the door closed.

“It’s so fucking busy in that gym,” Rafe replies, stepping away. He turns the corner and paces up the stairs towards his bedroom.

He and his brother have always lived in different worlds. They host parties sometimes, but that’s usually as close as their social circles overlap.

Right now, though, it’s like his aching muscles are willing him to turn around and keep talking to the pretty girl sitting in his living room. But while he’s never been good at ignoring his impulses, he’s not about to flirt with his brother’s guest, knowing how much it bothers him.

Before Rafe reaches his bedroom to get ready for a shower, he hears Zach come upstairs to stop him in the hallway.

“I’ll make sure they’re out by nine,” he says quietly. “That cool?”

Zach has always enjoyed having people over and surrounding himself with friends. But he’s aware of how much it annoys his moody brother when he just wants to chill at home. Despite how much Rafe parties and hooks up, when he wants quiet, he wants quiet.

Because Zach naturally wants to keep the peace, when they moved out of Tannyhill, he set ground rules. One of them is that they’ll check in with each other to make sure they don’t let guests overstay.

Rafe looks at his watch to see it’s nearly eight and says, “Sure. Whatever. I’m having a girl over later anyway.”

As soon as Zach left the living room, you heard one of the other soccer players, Chance, quietly make a joke about how that was the most words he’s ever heard Rafe say.

It makes Rafe all the more intriguing to you. Everyone here has some sort of history with him, albeit small and meaningless. But you’re still fairly new to the friend group. You know nothing about Rafe. For some reason, you want that to change.

Zach’s eyes meet yours when he comes back into the living room.

“Still a warm and fuzzy guy, isn’t he?” Chance says.

“Like always,” Zach quips with a shrug. And that’s that. Nobody brings up Rafe for the rest of the night.

When the hangout comes to an end about an hour later, Zach trails you all out through the front door. You bump into a girl you recognize from one of your classes.

“Hey,” she says. “I know you.”

“Hi,” you say with a laugh, holding the door open for her when you realize she’s coming into the loft.

Rafe appears behind Zach and by the way his eyes hungrily travel down her body, you quickly surmise she’s here for him.

And for some reason, it stings that she’s physically the complete opposite of you. If that’s Rafe’s type, you definitely don’t measure up.

You’re not sure why your mind is running away from you so fast. Why do you care about Rafe’s type? It’s his brother you’ve been pining over for the last month.

“How’d you do on that quiz?” she asks you.

“The grades are already up?” you reply.

“On time for once,” she laughs.

“Let’s go,” Rafe mumbles to her, his hand finding the small of her back.

You know it isn’t personal. He clearly just wants to hang out with her, not entertain any small talk. But the way he’s acting like you’re not even in the room hurts.

You say bye to Zach one last time before you follow your friends down the hallway towards the elevator. Your shoes are padding over the tiles when you hear your name half-whispered.

Zach stands with a foot out his door, beckoning you. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as you scurry back to close the distance between you. You look up at his warm eyes expectantly.

“Sorry. Don’t take it personally,” he murmurs with a gentle smile. “Rafe’s like that with everyone.”

You’re sure he’s not like that with the girl he just led upstairs. But you don’t know why you even care that much.

Zach’s the one you like. Obviously if you find him attractive, you’ll find his twin brother attractive, too. You figure your brain is just getting used to it.

You return his smile, appreciative. Stuff like this is why you like him; he cares enough to try to comfort you after his brother brushed you off.

“It’s okay,” you reply. Your friends call your name, urging you to get to the elevator before the doors close. “Thanks. I’ll see you.”

Zach watches you rush away, hoping he managed to make you feel better. He loves his brother. He understands why he is the way he is. But he doesn’t like that he made a girl who was nothing but nice to him feel bad.

As he tidies up the mess in the living room, thinking about how sweetly you had offered to help clear the table, Zach realizes that he enjoys not having housekeepers.

He never liked watching people have to clean up after him. Getting used to cleaning took some time after he and Rafe settled in here when the school year began, but now, it feels good.

Moving out was the best thing they could’ve done. Even though Zach’s only minutes older, he always felt protective of his brother, and being at home with their dad and stepmom just messed with Rafe, bringing out his self-destructive tendencies.

About an hour later, Zach’s doing schoolwork at the kitchen island when he hears the front door shut. He’s used to his brother’s habits, having random girls over, never letting them spend the night.

“She’s new,” Zach says when Rafe saunters into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Rafe says, ducking into the fridge. “Do we have any food?”

“I saved some takeout for you.” Zach points to the container by the oven.

“Sweet.”

“What’s she like?” Zach asks.

Rafe shrugs. Thankfully, his hook-up wasn’t interested in getting to know him, either. She just wanted to be physical. Losing himself in the feeling of a girl’s legs wrapped around him, melting into emotionless pleasure, shutting his mind up, is Rafe’s comfort zone.

“She’s cool,” he mumbles. “It’s nothing serious.”

Zach watches his brother pick at his dinner at the counter, not bothering to sit down.

He never understood how he could have these meaningless hook-ups. Zach can’t imagine sharing a bed with a girl he has no connection with. Or never talking to her again after.

He shuts his laptop, pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks.

“Hey, you think you could be a little nicer to my guests?” he asks. Rafe tenses up.

“This again?” It isn’t the first time Zach is giving him shit for how he talks to his friends.

“It makes them feel unwelcome when you act like that,” Zach replies. Rafe’s temper flares.

“Did they tell you that?” he snips.

“They don’t have to. Just… be decent, okay?”

“I am. You care too much about what people think,” Rafe mutters.

“Maybe you don’t care enough.” Zach’s lips firm into a thin line. “I don’t want to have to apologize for you.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles. “Who’d you have to apologize to? For what?”

Zach mentions your name and how sad you looked as you were leaving. Rafe sighs, but a hint of anxiety pricks at his skin. This happens a lot. He thinks things are fine, and then he finds out later that apparently, he was rude.

“I hope you’re at least nicer to the girls you bring over,” Zach says.

“Not every girl wants a nice guy,” he jokes with a snort. “Can we skip the lecture?”

“Dude,” he sighs in exasperation.

Rafe rolls his eyes. Zach never got that Rafe doesn’t have the ability to read people all that well, that he doesn’t know when he’s expected to tiptoe around feelings. Rafe wishes everyone was just upfront like he is.

Despite the frustration rolling through his body, he hates to lose his temper on his brother. He always regrets it after if he does. So, he relents.

“Fine. I’ll be nicer,” Rafe sighs. He thinks back to the way you looked sitting in the living room earlier tonight, your voice sweet, your smile pretty.

“She’s cute,” Rafe mumbles. “New girlfriend?”

He wonders if Rafe’s mocking him. Or maybe Zach’s just being overly sensitive. His younger brother has teased him in the past for how he’s hardly ever single for very long.

Zach does prefer to be in a relationship, to live in a promise of commitment with someone who wants to love him. But is that so bad?

They deal with their trauma in different ways. Zach runs towards comfort and connection, while Rafe would rather die than be vulnerable with a girl.

Zach would never say it, but he believes he copes much better than Rafe does. But then again, Zach is pretty sure Rafe has mental health issues that he refuses to acknowledge.

“Just a friend. Her dad’s my coach,” Zach replies flatly. “She does social media for the team. She’s off limits.”

“Off limits?” Rafe echoes. “Why? You like her?”

“No,” Zach lies on impulse. It’s not just his brother he considers you off limits to. He can’t pursue you, either. Although he wants to.

But if he admits to not wanting to date the coach’s daughter because it could end badly and leave things awkward for everybody, Rafe’ll whine about how stupid it is to be living life like that, always afraid to upset people.

They’ve had this exact conversation so many times. Zach would say that it’s not stupid to be considerate. Rafe would tell him to be selfish for once. And they’d get nowhere.

“I already told you that you can’t hook up with my friends,” Zach states.

Rafe sighs. He’s done it in the past, had flings with girls Zach befriends, then caught shit for not calling back, even though he’s always clear that he’s not looking for a relationship. Zach hates losing friends as a result of Rafe’s impulses.

“I know,” he finally says. “Relax.”

It frustrates Zach how much his brother acts like he’s high-strung. In reality, he is relaxed. Among his friends, he has a reputation for being chill and fun.

But with Rafe, he has to play this role. He’s had to since they were kids.

Zach stands, taking his laptop with him as he paces towards his bedroom. It’d be nice to talk to his brother about how much he likes you, about how excited he gets when he sees you coming to talk to him, even when it’s just to film a video.

It’s not like he can tell any of the guys on his team. As close as he is with them, he’s sure it’d spread and get back to you.

Rafe’s the only person he’d gush to, but he’d rather not listen to him whine about how Zach needs to stop giving a fuck about consequences. Because that’s who Rafe is.

“Night,” Zach says curtly.

“Hey, I’m sorry, alright? I don’t try to be a dick,” Rafe says. “You don’t want any more of this?”

Zach looks at the food.

“I’m good.”

It’s another lie. He still has an appetite, but he’d rather let someone else eat if they’re hungry. Because that’s who Zach is.

────୨ৎ────

“Whoa,” you say, scrolling through your notifications.

“What’s up?” Zach asks, leaning closer to you.

You’re sitting in a loud and overcrowded on-campus bar with your friends. It’s been a few days since you hung out at Zach’s, being pulled out of the conversation from your phone buzzing incessantly.

Zach’s chin is almost touching your shoulder as you drag your thumb over your phone screen. He smells like soap and warmth, making your heart race.

“This one video randomly blew up,” you say. “From like, two weeks ago. It has almost ten thousand likes.”

“Which one?” Chance asks, sitting across the table from you.

“The one where I asked you guys what’s on your lockscreens,” you tell them. “I’ll send the link.”

Your friends gaze at their phones around the table after you share the video in the group chat, but Zach stays in his spot, preferring to watch over your shoulder, closer than he’s ever been to you.

It’s stuff like this that makes you think he’s crushing on you, too.

“Well, that’s good, right?” Zach offers. “Makes you look good if you get us viral.”

You breathe a chuckle as you read through the comments.

“I don’t know,” you say. “You’re all kind of getting objectified.”

“What?” Kacey, Chance’s girlfriend half-shouts.

“Oh, that explains why I’m getting all these random follow requests,” Chance laughs. He looks at his girlfriend. “I’m not accepting them. Don’t worry.”

“Sunrise guy is so pure,” Roy, the goalie, reads a comment aloud in a teasing tone. “102 likes. Jesus.”

“Am I sunrise guy?” Zach mumbles to you.

You smirk, finally turning your head to meet his eyes. In the video, Zach said his lockscreen was ‘a cool picture he took of a sunrise.’

“I think you are,” you reply. Admittedly, he looked adorable in the video, just coming out of the locker room after a game, his hair messy and his skin flushed.

“Pure,” he repeats, his lips twisting. “Is that good?”

“I’d say it’s good,” you shrug.

“Sunrise guy is fine as hell,” Roy reads, laughing. “And there’s a whole thread under trying to find your Instagram.”

You swear you notice Zach blush as he shuffles to take his phone out of his pocket.

“What are they saying about you, huh, Roy?” Zach teases. “Share with the class.”

“Nobody’s saying shit about Roy,” Chance laughs, scrolling.

“Shut up,” Roy says, punching Chance’s shoulder.

Your stomach twists with unease when you see Zach open Instagram, the red message bubble mocking you.

Sure enough, a few girls dm’d him. He opens a message from a girl with a pretty profile photo.

Hiiii :) please don’t think I’m a stalker lol I just saw you on tiktok and I’m wondering how I haven’t seen you around campus?

You look away, feeling guilty for snooping. It’s a girl who goes to the same college. A girl he could very easily meet and date.

He’s not your boyfriend. You have to remind yourself that he owes you nothing. But jealousy doesn’t care if you’ve claimed someone as yours or not. It still finds a way to seep in.

You shift in your seat, pretending to continue to read comments while your heart squeezes in a vice.

────୨ৎ────

The next weekend, Zach and Rafe are hosting a party. As you get ready, you put extra time into getting pretty. You wonder if you haven’t been obvious enough.

You’ve been flirting with Zach like always, but he might think you’re just being nice, so if the air feels right tonight, you’ll try to make it more clear that you’re interested.

You arrive at the loft, trying to act unfazed when Zach pulls you in for a quick hug. He does it with everyone, though, so you’re not sure if you’re special to him at all.

Rafe notices you walk in. He’s standing just outside the kitchen, a cold beer bottle in his hand. You’re even prettier than he remembers.

Zach leads you to the kitchen where drinks are laid out on the counter, then quickly gets pulled away by the doorbell ringing again.

You pace into the bright space, gazing over the ridiculously large array of alcohol. Ever since you saw the size of this place, you’ve wondered if Zach comes from a wealthy family.

Regular college students couldn’t afford a home like this. And they wouldn’t so generously buy all the many drinks scattered atop the counter.

You meet sharp blue eyes. Rafe raises his beer bottle slightly in greeting. You offer a smile in return, your body numbing.

You notice yet another difference between them. Zach dresses like most other guys on campus, while Rafe is in a crisp button-up, a small logo stitched on the front. You know that brand isn’t cheap. Neither is his watch.

They must be well off. Zach doesn’t seem to want to show it. Rafe does.

You find a drink you can stomach, picking up the cold glass bottle and looking around for an opener.

“Apparently, I was rude to you the other day?” Rafe’s voice cuts over the music.

You look up to see him stepping a bit closer, putting his beer down on the marble with a clack and gripping a metallic bottle opener. You take his silent invitation, handing him your drink.

“You weren’t not rude,” you reply.

Rafe’s dimples cave into his cheeks when he chuckles, looking down, popping the lid off with ease. He likes that you call him out on it, instead of appeasing him.

“My bad.” His voice is husky, his words said with a drawl. He hands your drink back to you. “Zach’s always giving me shit about my manners.”

“He’s right to,” you joke.

You take a small sip from the bottle, your face pinching with a hint of distaste, and Rafe finds it ridiculously cute.

“Don’t like it?” he asks, eyes glinting.

“Just a little bitter,” you admit. You look out at the crowd, some faces familiar, some faces not.

You’re not close enough to the girl in your class, the one you saw Rafe with, to have asked her what their deal is. The curiosity has oddly been gnawing at you.

It’d be weird to mention it to her. Or to him. But you do notice that she’s not here. You take another drag from the bottle, tapping your nails against the counter to the familiar song.

Rafe can’t tear his eyes off of you, noticing the way you’re slightly mouthing the lyrics. If he wasn’t this close, he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“You know this song?” Rafe asks.

“You do, too?” you say, looking up at him again as he towers over you.

“It’s my playlist.”

“Oh,” you laugh, surprised that you have something in common with him, that you both like this fairly unknown artist. “Yeah. This whole album is good.”

Rafe nods. You try not to stare. He has a magnetizing pull that you can’t really make sense of. There’s something so naturally dominating about him, like he’s silently demanding your attention.

The night Zach mentioned your job, Rafe looked through the account you run for his soccer team. Truthfully, he wished you were in the videos instead of behind the camera, but at least he could hear your voice.

You intrigue him. There’s no way to ignore it. His brother doesn’t want him hooking up with his friends, but what’s the harm in talking?

“So, you do TikTok stuff for my brother’s team?” Rafe asks. Zach has obviously talked about you to him. You wonder what else he said.

“My job description technically says ‘content creation’,” you reply. “But I guess ‘TikTok stuff’ works.”

Rafe can’t stifle his smile. He thinks Zach’s an idiot not to like you.

Maybe he’s lying. But it’s unlike him to lie when it comes to girls. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, so much so that it confuses Rafe why, after growing up around so much instability, he’s still so open to being hurt.

“You’re not into soccer?” you ask. He shakes his head no. “Do you play something else?”

“Nah,” Rafe says. “I golf sometimes, but that’s it.”

You can’t help but breathe a chuckle. Of course a rich guy like him would play golf of all sports.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you say.

“What’s funny?” he teases, his stare penetrating.

You have to look away, heat flushing through you. Everything about him, about his appeal, is overwhelming.

“Come on,” he beckons, teasing.

“I was going to say that I’m not surprised.” Your eyes dart down to the small logo on his shirt. “You would play golf.”

Rafe’s amused. Zach never liked making it obvious that they come from money because he says it’s in ‘bad taste.’ It’s another thing about his brother that never made sense to Rafe.

“Really? Who’s being rude now?” he asks.

You look up at him with doe eyes. Right now, it’s really hard for Rafe to give a fuck about you being off limits.

“Still you,” you reply. He laughs.

It’s a surprise, the way Rafe’s not as cold as you first thought. He has a guard up and he doesn’t smile much, but he has his own type of charm.

You continue to chat with him about music and school and even your dad being the soccer coach. Zach must have mentioned that, too.

Thankfully, you’re not quite drunk yet, because if you were, you might ask him what else Zach has said about you, and that could be a giveaway of your feelings for him. And if you show interest in Zach, that would probably kill your chances with Rafe.

Uncomfortable realization pools your senses. While these men are complete contradictions of each other, unalike in so many ways, you like them. Both of them. Shit.

You down the tiny bit left of your drink, a sign of just how long you’ve been standing here talking to Rafe. Time with him has a way of slipping.

You gaze out at the party again, noticing that the living room has gotten much more crowded. And then you see Zach, sitting on the couch, beaming brightly as he talks to a girl.

Rafe catches the way your face falls. When he sees your eyes on his brother, he’s sure of it. You like him. And here you are, making conversation with him while you’re pining over Zach.

He thought you were having fun together. He felt a spark. The sting of rejection tears into him. His gut reaction is to be spiteful. To say you should just go talk to Zach if he’s boring you. Or to really make it hurt, to tell you Zach said he doesn’t like you like that.

Truthfully, as much as he loves Zach, he’s always been a little jealous of him. Everything just seems so easy for him, while every minute of Rafe’s life feels like a fight he’s losing.

Instead of hurting you, he swallows down his words with a swig of beer. Maybe all of Zach’s scolding for his lack of manners is finally working.

“Enjoy the party, yeah?” Rafe says to you. He steps away before you can reply.

Later on, you’re chatting with Kacey when you feel rhythmic buzzes in your pocket. You pull your phone out to see Zach’s name on your screen.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Finally,” he laughs. “Can you open the front door for me? I got locked out.”

A moment later, you meet Zach on the first floor, wishing your heart didn’t skip the way it does when he smiles at you through the glass door.

“I’m an idiot,” he says once you let him in. “I forgot my keys. Thanks.”

“Sure,” you laugh.

“You know, you’re the fourth person I called.” Zach puts an arm around your shoulders as you walk through the lobby. He’s never touched you like this and it’s comforting, but then again, everything about Zach is comforting. “Nobody else answered.”

By the way he’s being more affectionate than usual and slurring his words, you can tell he’s drunk.

“Why were you outside?” you ask.

“I walked someone down,” he answers. “Actually, a girl I met because of that video you posted.”

Likely the girl you saw messaging him just a few nights ago. He must have replied and liked her so much that he invited her tonight. Your heart aches.

“How’d it go?” you ask, feigning indifference.

“Good,” Zach replies. “I think she had fun.”

Of course he answers selflessly, more concerned about what she thought of him. You enter the elevator and he parts from you, pressing the button.

“Was Rafe being nice?” he asks. He obviously noticed you talking to his brother.

“He was actually telling me to leave,” you reply. Zach’s eyes widen and you laugh. “Wow, you’re gullible. I’m kidding. Yes, he was nice.”

He did leave your conversation pretty abruptly, but you’d rather not tell Zach in case he feels the need to apologize for his brother’s behavior again.

“Okay. Good.” Zach looks up at the changing numbers on the screen, smiling proudly as he leans back against the elevator wall.

His younger brother can be brash and reckless, but Zach knows it’s all because his feelings overwhelm him. He sees right through Rafe’s attempts to hide it from everyone, including himself.

Everyone thinks Zach is the emotional one. He isn’t. He doesn’t even come close to how sensitive and unstable Rafe can be.

“He’s a good guy,” he says. “I love him to death. We’ve been through a lot together and when our mom left, he…”

You look over at Zach’s profile, his lips curved into a frown.

“He took it hard and I don’t think he ever really got over any of it,” he finishes his sentence.

His inhibitions have clearly been silenced by alcohol, and you’d ask for more information if it didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of his drunken state.

The elevator dings. The doors slide open. Rafe’s standing in the hallway, holding his phone, having just caught up with Zach’s missed notifications.

“Where were you?” Zach says, mocking offense. “Do you even care that I was left out in the cold? You know I don’t like being alone.”

“Alright, come on,” Rafe says, shaking his head in disapproval as he pulls Zach forward by the shoulder. He meets your eyes for a second. “How much did you drink?”

“Relax,” Zach says, then laughs. “Wow. For once, I’m telling you that.”

The three of you walk down the hallway towards the loft. Your arms are crossed, still confused about your feelings for Rafe, still hurt that Zach doesn’t see anything worth pursuing in you.

“I love you, you know?” Zach mumbles to his brother. “I was just saying how much we’ve been through and how much I love you.”

Rafe’s body goes cold. He glares at you.

“What did he say?” he asks you, tense.

“I could barely understand him,” you fib. You don’t want to embarrass either one of them.

“You’re not gonna say you love me back?” Zach says to Rafe.

“Dude,” Rafe scoffs. “You cannot hold your booze. You’re going to bed.”

“Never,” Zach murmurs.

After everything that’s happened tonight, you feel too disoriented to be able to laugh.

(part two)

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader

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dira333 · 1 month ago

Note

Blind Date with Tsukishima

Blind Date - Tsukishima x Reader

“And it’s going to be a Blind Date,” Hitoka points out. “I’m not telling you who it is. But he’ll wear a red scarf.”

“A red scarf,” you nod. “Gotcha.”

She squints at you. “You don’t wanna know more?”

“No, I’m fine.” You sigh. “Better to go in blind, right? Not like swiping on Tinder did me any good.”

She laughs heartily. “You’re too much in your head. You’re just like me! But he’ll be nice. Ah, well… he’ll be nice for you.”

It’s your turn to squint. “He’s not that nice to others?”

“He is!” She reassures you, already panicking. “I’d never say anything bad about him, he’s my friend. But he can be a bit brash at first if he doesn’t know or trust you. But he’s always respectful to authorities, I know that’s important to you.”

“Well,” you sniff before sighing. “I am too single to complain about that. Blind Date it is.”

-x-

“A Blind Date,” Kei repeats, dragging the words. “How old are you?”

Hitoka pouts. “It’s a cute idea!”

“Sure, for her. But you could tell me who it is.”

“But where’s the fun in that? Tadashi, back me up!”

“Tsukki-”

“No,” Kei shakes his head. “Don’t bother. I’m going to go along with it because you asked so nicely, but only this one time, okay? And don’t remind me that I’ve been single for too long, I know. Shush!” His hand snaps up just in time to cut off Kanji who’d just opened his mouth.

Kanji pouts but falls back again, throwing his arm around Hitoka for support.

“What is she going to wear?” Kei asks Hitoka. “A red scarf too?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “She’s got a big red hair clip that’s shaped like a flower. A Gerbera.”

“Oh, is that the exotic one?” Kanji asks, perking up.

“No, you mean Hibiscus,” Kentarou drawls before taking a sip of his beer. He rolls his eyes at the sudden attention. “What? Everyone knows those flowers.”

“Sure,” Kei drawls back, finding at least a little reprieve in the angry glare he gets in response.

-x-

Hitoka has a lot of friends, you realize, as you stalk her Instagram account.

But she’s very good at tagging all of them, be it work friends, old high school friends or all those other people she knows from dating a Volleyball Player.

You scroll back all the way to her first post in High School and come up with only three people wearing a red scarf around her.

Sure, that means nothing in the long run, but one of those people is a girl, and the other two are Asahi Azumane the Fashion Designer and someone called Tsukishima Kei, Volley Player.

It doesn’t take long to figure out that Azumane is happily married, the red scarf now tied around his wife’s neck. What a shame. He’d have been cute.

Tsukishima’s Instagram Account is private and you’re not going to embarrass yourself by sending him a follower request.

Koganegawa Kanji’s account, however, is public and he posts a lot.

From Selfies at work, Tsukishima glaring at him in the background to Group Photos at the Isekaya they seem to visit regularly, everything is there.

It doesn’t take long to find a messy video of the Gang, Tsukishima and someone with a haircut resembling a Tennisball engaged in the laziest catfight you’ve ever seen or heard.

Tennisballhead’s insults are not for the soft but Tsukishima draws back just as effectively.

So… you could be mistaken, but you’re pretty sure Tsukishima is going to be your not so blind Blind Date.

-x-

He doesn’t want to know, really. But then again, a bit of research doesn’t hurt, right?

Hitoka has only five girlfriends that she regularly mentions and posts on social media.

Two of them are taken, one is going through a complicated breakup at the moment as far as he’s aware, and the other two…

There is no Gerbera hair clip in sight. Not even a hair clip with a different flower, though he doesn’t think Hitoka would mess up something that simple.

It’s two days until the Date and he finds himself scrolling through both of their Instagrams, looking for clues, pretending he isn’t interested at all

And maybe he wouldn’t have figured it out if not for Kanji’s big mouth.

-x-

The Diner’s nice, decorated in a western style.

You start salivating just at the thought of a milkshake with fries but busy yourself with the menu instead, sipping slowly from the glass of water you’d ordered.

You’re early, the result of a surprising eagerness to meet your blind date.

Someone brushes past you and you can feel it - the giant red hair clip snagging on something. You can feel the break before you hear it, watch helplessly as the fake Gerbera adorning the clip tumbles to the floor, only to be crushed under someone’s eager foot.

Your hair now flows freely around your face, a welcome shield from the outside world as you fight against the sting of tears.

It’s nothing big, the hair clip not even of sentimental value, but you can’t help but see a sign in it.

Tsukishima Kei is fifteen minutes late.

You stare at Hitoka’s message on your phone, the innocent question of whether you made it to the Diner just fine. No sign that she knows he’s not showing.

Maybe he got held up at work? Does that happen to Volleyball Players?

“Have you decided yet?” Your server appears next to your table, chewing bubble gum and grinning.

Surely you’re imagining the smug curve of her smile.

“Just a minute,” you ask. “I’m waiting on someone.”

“Oh honey,” she drawls out with enough satisfaction to leave no doubt she’s enjoying this. “He’s not showing. Just accept it.”

“I-”

“Are we paying for that roast on the side or is that on the house?” A deep voice asks to your left and you both turn, surprised.

Tsukishima’s there, in the flesh, out of breath, and beads of sweat glistening on the bow of his lip. He looks like he ran here and you’re ready to believe it, no more evidence needed.

“I’m sorry Honey,” he tells you with a voice so sweet you can only call it passive-aggressive. “The train got delayed and my phone was empty. Never letting Kanji play games on it to pass the time.”

“You’re forgiven,” you tell him simply, sending a pointed glare toward your server.

She catches herself, shuffling away with an apology but that’s too little too late. You know you won’t be tipping too well tonight.

Tsukishima slips into his seat, pulling the red scarf from his neck.

“I thought you were supposed to wear a hair clip?”

“I thought you were supposed to be on time?”

He smiles, clearly enjoying that you dare to fight back.

“Missed my train. Running over was faster than waiting for the next.”

“Mhm,” you eye him. “You sure you didn’t just want to show off your stamina?”

“Maybe?” He grins. “What about the hair clip?”

“It got crushed under careless feet,” you admit, trying not to feel sorry for yourself.

“Good,” he comments. “You won’t need it any longer.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, a little perplexed.

A blush, as red as the Gerbera mentioned, rises onto his cheeks.

“No more blind dates?” He offers and you smile. “We’ll see about that.”

- Bonus -

“How did you know it was me?” You ask, your joined hands swinging in between your bodies.

His cheeks are flushed from the cold, the wine and no doubt your attention as well.

“Kanji… Hitoka’s boyfriend. He mentioned your favorite food.”

“And?” You blink, surprised that this might have led him to you.

“I might have been stalking Hitoka’s Instagram. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, you wear that red scarf a lot. Just saying.”

“You knew it was me?”

You shrug, unable to keep from smiling proudly. “Had a hunch.”

Requests open

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #dira.asks #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#mha x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fluff #tsukki x reader

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dark-fics-4-you · 1 year ago

Note

step bro rafe who plays football or hockey. idk it just seems hot🙏

Number One Fan

I’m gonna combine this with this request: Something with step bro rafe where the reader calls him rafey and it turns him on but she doesn’t know…

(This can be read as a continuation of my previous step bro!Rafe fic, but i’m not sure if I want to make a bunch of drabbles or one connected narrative so we’ll see what happpens ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

Next chapter

Warnings: drinking, relationship between step siblings, rafe is having unpure thoughts👀

The stadium was packed with college students and fans, roaring as the whistle blew.

You were close to the field, eager to get a good view of Rafe. He was the star quarterback of East Carolina University, and for good reason.

He had led the team to victory in all 10 of their last games.

The score was evened out, with only a few seconds left on the clock, everyone was eager to see what would happen next.

When the whistle blew again and the ball was passed to Rafe, you cheered loudly.

He dodged two players, dancing around them before running all the way to the endzone.

Everyone on the crowded bleachers jumped to their feet, cheering and screaming at the touchdown, but no one was louder than you.

“Go Rafe! Go!! Woo!!!”

You beamed proudly as you watched him pump his fist in the air, fist bumping his teammates as they congratulated him.

You were one of the first people to rush to the field, running up to your older brother and practically jumping on him in your excitement to hug him.

“Oh my god, Rafey! That was such a good game!” You squealed. “You were awesome! That last touchdown was amazing!”

Rafe flashed you a grin, perfect teeth winking in under the bright lights of the stadium. “Thanks, Y/N/N. You know I win every game just for you,” he joked and you giggled along.

“Hey, some of my teammates and I are gonna go out for drinks after we get cleaned up, wanna tag along?”

“Sure!” You smiled up at him. You were always happy when he included you in things he was doing, which admittedly was a lot of the time.

“Perfect, sugar. Here are my keys,” he tossed you them. “Why don’t you bring the truck around to where the locker room exit is, you can wait in there till I’m done. Okay?”

“Yeah! Sounds good!” You parted ways, heading to the truck but you didn’t notice how his gaze stayed on your back as you walked away.

~~~~~~

“That’s a pretty hot piece of ass you had hanging around you, Cameron,” one of Rafe’s friends joked, suggestively nudging the blond with his elbow.

“Shut up, Wilson,” Rafe snapped. His stomach lurched at the comment. He didn’t like the idea of any of his friends trying to sleep with you.

In fact, he didn’t like the idea of anyone trying to sleep with you. The very thought made him sick.

“Hey, I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind if she came around more, amiright?” Wilson asked the other guys around him that had seen you and they all laughed and nodded.

“Knock it off, seriously,” Rafe warned. “She’s not interested.” He could feel his irritation rising, his face heating up.

“Damn okay Cameron, chill. We were just joking,” someone else interjected.

“Well I’m not fucking laughing.” He pulled on his shirt before slamming the locker door. “I don’t think I’m gonna go out tonight anymore. See ya at practice.”

A few guys complained, “come on Rafe, we didn’t mean anything by it.”

But he was already halfway out the door.

~~~~~~

“Change of plans,” Rafe said as he climbed into the driver’s seat and you clicked your buckle.

You looked at him inquisitively. “Oh?”

“We’re gonna go out, just the two of us. None of the guys.” He started the truck, pulling out of the parking lot and towards the road.

“Oh, okay.” You said in a confused tone. “Why are they not coming?”

He was silent for a moment and you glanced at him again.

“Rafey?”

“I just decided that I’d rather go out with my favorite girl instead,” he said with a smile, ruffling your hair and you grinned.

“Oh, okay!” You said happily. “Ooh could we go to this bar that I know, it’s on Seventh street.” You babbled away about the bar you wanted to go to.

Rafe shifted in his seat, trying as hard as possible to hide his growing erection, nodding along but he was finding it hard to pay attention to anything you were saying, attention shifting between watching the road, and turning to examine your features.

He pulled up to the bar and you hopped out of the car. You both showed your ID’s at the door and found a booth to sit at, Rafe pulling you in to the same side he was on so you could be closer.

A waiter came to get your drink orders, you got a fruity cocktail and Rafe got a beer, and Rafe ordered a plate of loaded nachos for you to share.

Your drinks came quickly and you offered Rafe a sip of your cocktail, which he took before offering you a sip of his beer.

You took a quick swig, face scrunching up at the flavor. “Bleh, I still have no idea how you like beer so much, Rafey!” You giggled, leaning against him in the small booth, his arm wrapped around your waist.

“You get used to it if you drink enough, Y/N/N.” The blond laughed, grabbing a nacho off of the plate in between the two of you.

“I just think it’s so gross,” you shook your head, smiling.

“Please, you’re one to talk. I still remember that time you tried to make mixed drinks for us at that party and they sucked so bad I nearly threw up.” He chuckled.

“Shut up! I got better afterwards!” You laughed hard at the memory. “So mean, Rafey,” you said with a fake pout.

“Not true, I’m always nice to you, Y/N/N,” Rafe sounded surprisingly earnest. “You know I would do anything for you.”

“I know, I know,” you finished your cocktail, catching the waiter’s eye before ordering a second.

You leaned back, melting into your step brother’s arms.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” Rafe whispered quietly. “You know that, right?”

There was a strange moment when you met his eyes, odd feelings washed over you. The intensity in his look stirred something in you that you couldn’t identify.

“Yeah I know, Rafey. You’re my favorite person too.”

He smiled at that, pulling you closer to his warm body. You cuddled against his chest, enjoying the circles he was tracing lazily into your back with his fingers.

Your second drink arrived and you downed it quickly, feeling a little beyond tipsy by the time the two of you stepped out of the bar.

He drove you home, comfortable silence most of the way. You felt warm and the alcohol in your system made you feel much more affectionate.

Rafe opened the front door of the house for you, allowing you to lean on him drunkenly as he guided you inside.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, not wanting to go to bed alone.

“Would it be okay if I slept in your bed tonight, Rafey?” You asked, looking up at your step brother with hopeful eyes. “I just feel more comfortable when you’re by me.”

“Sure, Y/N/N.” Rafe smiled at you, leading you to his room.

You kicked off your shoes, taking your shorts off before dropping them on the floor. “Do you have a shirt I could wear, Rafey?”

His eyes fell on you, noting your bare legs and the pink panties you had under your shorts. His mouth felt dry, and it took him a second to remember you had just asked him a question.

“Um, yeah I should have one…” he searched in a drawer, before tossing you the oversized shirt.

You pulled it on, unclipping your bra underneath the shirt before putting it with your shorts and top.

Rafe kicked off his shorts, stripping to his boxers before pulling his shirt off over his head. He stepped towards his door, flicking the lights off.

You crawled into his bed, breathing in his smell in the sheets, scooting over when he followed.

Usually when you slept in Rafe’s bed, you were the one who pressed to him, hugging his back as he faced away from you, but this time, you were surprised when you felt the warmth of his chest press to your back, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to him.

As you dozed off to sleep, you were none the wiser that your step brother was beside you, hard as a rock, and imagining things that were far from brotherly.

Chapter 2

#rafe cameron #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #obx #drew starkey #rafe cameron fanfic #stepbro!rafe #stepbro!rafe cameron #number one fan

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kitty-tea · 10 months ago

Text

Like father, like son

Welcome to the third and final part of the story!

Here’s part one and part two

(Link to masterlist)

Summary: James finally gets what he wants.

A/n: thank you to everyone who’s read the story so far! Sorry this is so long and full of filthy, smutty goodness :)

Pairing: dilf!James Potter x reader

NSFW 18+ only!

Word count: 5.4k

Tags/warnings: dilf!James Potter, super long, unprotected sex, age gap, low-key unhinged, almost-somnophilia, pet names, extremely filthy smut, NSFW, oral sex, p in v sex, teasing, reader is of age, dub-con (depends on how you look at it)

Hey, how have you been? It’s been a while since we’ve spoken to each other. I know you’ve been busy with the Auror Recruitment Programme. Dad and I are really happy for you. We both miss you very much, and it would mean a lot to me if you would come to our house for my 18th birthday. We know you’re very busy, so it’ll just be dinner with the three of us and we’ll let you leave the next morning. We’ll even let you sleep on the pull-out couch just like old times.

-Your friend, Harry

You stared at the letter in your hand that Hedwig had dropped onto your kitchen counter after you let her in. The words “we both miss you very much” stuck out to you. You were reminded of how fast time passed since Lily’s death. The first month after it happened, the three of you were a complete mess. James had gotten a letter from Professor McGonagall saying that Harry’s grades were starting to slip, and he was in danger of having to repeat sixth year on top of getting kicked off the Quidditch team (something that upset both you and James as former players for the same team) if something wasn’t done about it. With you out of school and unable to spend as much time with him, there was nothing you could do for him other than to keep sending him letters of encouragement. Luckily for him, his supportive group of friends were more than willing to help him get back to his feet and help keep him on track to graduating. You still understood that neither James nor his son would ever get over Lily’s death because you never got over your parent’s deaths. You understood each other’s pain. You’d never be that type of person to tell someone to get over a loved one’s death no matter how long ago it was.

You scribbled your response to Harry’s letter promising him that you’ll be at his house, and tied the parchment around Hedwig’s ankle before sending her off.

You sat still on your chair with a dreamy feeling inside of you. If you were a cartoon character, there would be hearts in place of your eyes. That dreamy feeling only swelled within you more by each day until it was the day for you to see James.

James felt selfish for using his son’s birthday as an excuse to see you. He was the one who brought you up during dinner, casually mentioning that you hadn’t spoken with them in a long time. He then mentioned that with Harry’s birthday coming up, it would be the perfect opportunity for you to spend time together.

That’s how he found himself answering the door at six in the evening. His heart somersaulted into his stomach at the sight of you.

“Oh, hi James.” His eyes didn’t overlook the way your cheeks turned as pink as the sunset or the same shy smile you started giving him all those years ago.

“Come in, Harry’s inside setting the table.” He stepped aside as you walked in with your overnight bag slung onto your shoulder.

James didn’t care if you caught his eyes hungrily exploring your body. Actually, he wanted you to catch him, so he could see how you’d react. Would you blush an even deeper shade of red and turn away? Or would you boldly hold his stare?

And what the hell were you wearing? You were (definitely) trying to seduce him with the tiny skirt that almost showed the plump skin of your ass and that white blouse that was high enough to show your belly button and exposed your shoulders. There was no way you were wearing a bra with the way your nipples were showing through the soft fabric, just tempting James to reach his thumb out and rub it over the hard peaks.

He then realized he couldn’t remember how long it’d been since he let his mind wander to you as he’d pleasure himself in the privacy of his own room.

He really needed to get himself together. He was not about to let his inappropriate thoughts about you slip out in front of his son.

“Happy birthday!” Your voice snapped James out of his thoughts as he saw you run over to Harry and give him a hug.

“I’m glad you could make it!” He returned your hug. “Come on, let’s eat. Aren’t you starving?”

“I know you are.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, only to abruptly stop with a blush when your eyes did indeed catch James looking at your body, specifically at your thighs that he saw you rubbing together. “Oh… yeah, what’s for dinner?” Your voice stumbled.

“My favorite, obviously because I’m the birthday boy.” Harry said in a joking snobbish way.

Throughout dinner, James sat back during most discussions you and Harry were having, enjoying the peaceful quietness without having to worry about the chaos that had been happening in the rest of the Wizarding World.

James didn’t know or care what time it was when his eyes opened to the sight of the still darkened sky outside his bedroom window and the dry, raw feeling inside his throat. He needed water which meant he’d have to go past the living room where you were sleeping in order to get to the kitchen.

Being careful not to make too much noise as he stepped past Harry’s bedroom door, he made his way down the stairs.

If the word temptation was a person, James was sure it would be you. His eyes gravitated up your exposed legs before landing on the hem of the short, pink satin robe you were wearing, your sleeping form undisturbed by his presence.

A more sinister part of his mind was begging him to walk over to you and untie your robe. One little peek wouldn’t hurt right? It told him, but he screamed at that part of him to shut up and that Lily would’ve been furious enough to come out of her grave to give him some sort of a spiritual beating and an earful if he did something that devious to you. It was just a thought. Not everything he thought needed to be acted out.

He wasn’t married anymore. He didn’t have to feel guilty about his dirty thoughts about you, right?

James found that his previous thirst for water was replaced by something else. He sat on the armchair next to the pull-out couch as he reminded himself about what he’d been taught: that men are allowed to look but not touch. But he wanted to touch you. His fingers twitched around the armrest as he imagined tracing them along your exposed inner thighs before dipping below the hem. Would his fingers feel a warm slickness or a piece of fabric? Were you wearing any underwear at all? It was hard to tell with your legs closed.

James couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care anymore that his conscience had no control over his body as he got up from his chair and the backs of his fingers found themselves brushing a strand of hair out of your face and down your neck. He made up this pathetic excuse in his mind that he had to check your pulse to make sure you were alive.

That excuse was so pathetic that James instantly snatched his hand back and mentally scolded himself before swiftly retreating to his bedroom.

Stepping out of the bathroom with your toothbrush bag, you adjusted your robe. You heard sounds coming from the kitchen which you deduced was James cooking something. You were right, for you spotted him behind the island where he was balancing a mixing bowl in one hand and holding a whisk in the other as you poked your head into the kitchen. You also noticed instantly that he was shirtless. And his muscles were on full display.

Although you’ve imagined what he’d look like without a shirt countless times, nothing could compare to the real view.

“Good morning. I didn’t see you there. I’m making pancakes.” You didn’t know what sounded more delicious: the pancakes, or the sound of his raspy morning voice.

You forced yourself to move your entire body into the kitchen.

You couldn’t remember how to speak as you felt your cheeks flame up and your eyes glue itself to his abs.

“Would you like to help?” Oh, you wanted to help him with something, alright. Just not the type of help he was implying.

You nodded and James gave you a smile as you made it to the kitchen island and set your toothbrush bag down. It was more like a smirk.

“What’s so funny?” You cringed at how your voice sounded like an angry little kid.

“It was like you were hiding from me.” Your heart fluttered even more inside your chest at the sound of his laughter. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

When you hadn’t broken out of your trance, James brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright?” He asked. You weren’t paying attention to what he was saying. You were busy staring at every body part of his from his eyes down to the V-line of his abs that extended below the waistband of his sweats.

You also weren’t paying attention to how you were squeezing your legs together to soothe the ache that was starting to form there.

“Hey, relax. You’re all tensed up.” You gasped at the feeling of his cold hand on the heated skin of your bare thigh. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as you felt his thumb gently rub circles in an upwards direction.

If what James was already doing to you felt this good, you thought the pleasure he would bring to you if he touched you in other places would be beyond anything you felt in your life.

“I don’t like what you’ve been doing to me, babydoll.” James murmured into your ear, his voice making you melt. “What were you thinking? Tempting me last night in that short skirt and your tits practically on display? In front of my own son? Everyone else thinks you’re such a good girl, but I see right through you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked in your confused and dizzy state.

James scoffed. “Even a Muggle would be able to read you. You’re just as terrible at Occlumency as you are talented at Legilimency.”

So he did know about your crush on him… the question was how long had he known?

“Oh, I’ve known for a while…” James smirked, answering your mind. “Since I was married, actually. And I’ve seen your little sex dreams. They’re even better than those cheap porno films. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“James… you’re scaring me.” Your lower lip quivered. How on earth did things escalate this fast? You were beyond horrified that he could see things in your mind that even you tried hiding from yourself. There was no going back now. No more lying to yourself that you only saw James as a father figure.

“Father figure?” James asked incredulously. “Quite frankly, I’m flabbergasted that with all the magic you have, you never once saw the things I’ve thought while I was around you. If you would’ve used Legilimency on me at all, you would’ve seen all those filthy thoughts I’ve had about you that no father should have.”

“James!” You gasped as his hand disappeared below your robe and landed on your hip bone.

You were clenching your thighs so hard that you could feel some of the stickiness from your cunt leaking onto them.

“Open your legs. I want to know how filthy my little girl is.” He whispered and you obeyed. You sucked in a breath as you felt his long index finger venture into the crease of your thigh before using it to collect your warm slick and spread it up and down your pussy. You moaned and instinctively grinded against his fingers.

“Have you always been this wet in front of me?” He whispered.

You shamefully looked down. You didn’t want to answer him, why should you when he already knew?

“Dad? Are you in there? Where’s-” You heard Harry’s voice from inside the living room.

“Yeah, she’s right here in the kitchen with me! Don’t come in yet! We’re both making a surprise breakfast for you!” James hurriedly interrupted him.

Really? You thought as you rolled your eyes. If things were to get more out of control, you’d be on your way to making a surprise baby.

You bit your lip as James slid his finger inside and curled them upwards hitting that deep spot within you that you couldn’t reach as well with your own shorter fingers. With his thumb, he rubbed tight circles around your clit, making your legs want to give out from underneath you. You didn’t know which of those two spots he was touching you felt better.

“Okay. Should I go wait in my room?” You almost forgot Harry was still there. What kind of game was James playing with you, talking to his son so casually as if he wasn’t doing something dirty with you?

“Yeah, we’ll call you over when we’re done!” James shouted. You let out an exhale as you heard Harry’s footsteps rush upstairs.

“Just look at you. My sweet, perfect little doll.” James’ eyes followed the fingers on his hand that weren’t buried in your cunt up and down your body. “Can I look at these?” He softly cupped his other hand under your breast making sure to give them a gentle squeeze.

You breathlessly nodded and tensed under his touch as he used his index finger to slide the robe off both of your shoulders. You felt your nipples harden into peaks at both the sudden air and James’ hungry gaze on them.

Your eyes slid shut as his lips left a trail of kisses that started from between your breasts and ended at the side of your neck where he started sucking on the sensitive skin. The harder James was sucking on that one area, the harder it became for you to hide your whimpers. With each pump of his fingers inside of you combined with the pleasure he was giving you on your neck, you felt your body getting closer towards the edge of something until you couldn’t hold on anymore. You couldn’t control your hips as they thrust themselves onto his hand. Your panting was shaking your body just as violently as did your orgasm.

“Oh, James.” You quietly whimpered into his ear as your hands found their way to his messy hair.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” His soft voice replied back.

“Feels so… good.” You pushed the sentence out of you as the last remaining trembles from your orgasm left your body along with James’ fingers.

“James!” You suddenly exclaimed, remembering. “Breakfast!”

“I know, I didn’t forget.” A smile broke out on his face.

He continued to look at you like you were the most perfect thing he’d seen as he helped put your robe back onto your shoulders and clean you up with a towel.

You were still blushing and avoiding eye contact with him while you were helping him in the kitchen, but that didn’t stop him from gently caressing any part of your body he could from behind you every few minutes.

You gasped every time his face would find the crook of your neck or his hands that would wrap around your waist.

Soon, James left to go knock on Harry’s bedroom door to let him know breakfast was ready while you stayed behind to get the table ready.

James came back (with a shirt on unfortunately) with Harry running like a little kid in front of him, dressed in jeans and a hoodie.

“I’m starving!” Harry shouted excitedly, eyeing his plate. You laughed at him, glad to see his energetic old self that you missed.

You and Harry mostly spent the rest of breakfast catching up some more, before he told you he’d leave soon to go to the Weasleys’ for the actual party they were throwing him where the rest of his friends would be.

James sat across from you while you sat next to Harry at the table like how it used to be.

“What happened to your neck?” You and James froze upon seeing Harry point to the bruise that was the same color as the jelly on his plate.

“I…tripped.” You promptly used your hair to cover up the area so that Harry wouldn’t have enough time to inspect it.

“You need to be more careful next time. The corners of the tables can be quite sharp.” James chided you gently as if he wasn’t the one that caused this.

“Oh. Funny how I didn’t hear you screaming earlier.” Harry shrugged. “You should put some ice on it.”

“Well you know she’s in Auror training and she’s been learning how to keep quiet.” James said with emphasis on the last two words with a sly look in your direction. He then got up to walk to the freezer.

He returned a moment later with an ice cube wrapped around a paper towel. You felt a spark where your fingers touched his as he handed it over to you, almost convincing you to put it over your reddening cheeks instead.

After the three of you had finished breakfast and Harry had disapparated out of the living room, it was you and James alone.

“Do you need me to help you wash dishes?” You asked awkwardly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I can stay here and help. I got the day off today.”

“Or you could wait for me in my bedroom.” James murmured as he sneakily slid his thumbs up your thighs. “You could help me in there.”

“Deal.” You got on your tiptoes and gave his cheek a quick kiss before departing for his bedroom.

As you came up in front of the door to James’ bedroom, your hands started to shake as you pushed it open. In all the time you spent there, this was the only room in the house you had never stepped foot in. You were starting to feel awkward, knowing this used to be Lily’s room too, and the bed that was in the middle of the room was most likely the same bed that she shared with James too.

You started to feel anxious with all these thoughts that popped in your mind like, “What if James is just using me as a distraction to help him get over Lily?” “Does James want me to replace her?” “Would I be insulting Lily’s memory if I slept with her husband on the same bed as her after everything she’s done for me?”

As for what you thought about James, you didn’t want to use him as someone to just sleep around with. You didn’t ever want to replace Lily. She was a completely different person from you. That was it. She was a person with thoughts and feelings, not some object with mass-produced replicas. You didn’t know how to answer that last question you asked yourself internally.

You walked over to the bed, taking the time to run your fingers over the soft blanket that covered the bed. You then took in the rest of the room. You watched the tree in front of the window shade the room from the full sunlight, giving the white walls and floor the illusion of a blue-ish gray undertone. You noticed that unlike the rest of the house, there was an absence of pictures. You assumed it was so that James wouldn’t be reminded of the pain of losing his wife as he was trying to go to sleep. Besides the bed, the only furniture there was were the drawers, a vanity, and a desk with a chair. The only two doors besides the entrance were what looked to be the master bathroom and the closet.

Although you and James had known each other for years, you didn’t feel right to go and snoop around his stuff. But he did snoop around your mind. Is that any different? That still wasn’t a good enough excuse for you to go through his physical stuff.

You instead elected to take a seat on the foot of the bed with your legs crossed, your mind spacing out over to the tree by the window.

“I hope someone didn’t start without me.” James’ voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was leaning on the doorframe, his glasses and side-smile leaning with him.

You shyly turned away as he took a seat next to you on the bed.

“You’re so pretty.” James said as he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “What’s wrong?”

He gently cupped your face with his other hand, turning you towards his direction. You nervously looked down to where your lips were nearly touching.

“Do you actually want to do this with me? Am I just a distraction for you?” You whispered the last sentence. You couldn’t bring yourself to mention Lily directly.

“No, Sweetheart. You’re so much better than that.” James brought one of your hands to his lips and kissed the back of it.

At that moment, James wanted you all to himself. He knew there would be consequences later if that happened. He could give you a choice to either sneak around with you behind his son’s back or go public with everyone else about your relationship and face the risk of shame. That was if you wanted it as much as he did, which he knew you did, but were you willing to give in and go that far? Would you change your mind?

And Harry? So what if he had a crush on you? You weren’t ever going to go for him anyways. James was the one who got what he wanted, not him. Not everyone gets what they want in life. Damn, he was thinking selfishly, so unlike how a father should.

No matter how happy or sad you looked, James couldn’t stop thinking of how gorgeous everything about you was, your eyes, your soft lips, the way your hair fell and framed your face, the blush on your cheeks that was as potent as the flame in his heart, it was like you were pulling him in without trying as his lips automatically found its way to yours.

As he got a taste of you, he knew he was instantly addicted. Just the taste of your lips wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hold your body close to him, so he wrapped his arm around you and grabbed one of your legs and put it over him, making you sit on his lap, facing him.

If he hadn’t required air to be alive, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to let go of you. The both of you were left panting as you got a look at each other.

“Take this off.” He pleaded, tugging at the string of your robe.

As soon as you took your satin robe off, he wasted no time in flipping you over onto your back, making your hair spill out below you and knocking the air out of you.

“I can finally have this beautiful body all to myself.” You mewled as his thumb flicked over the hardened bud on your breast.

“Aren’t you just deliciously adorable?” James let a filthy smirk grow on his face as he squeezed your breast and attached his mouth to your nipple, sucking on it. “I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

You started to squirm more and more under him with each lick on your nipple until you couldn’t control your whimpering.

“It’s okay, Baby. You don’t need to hold back.” James cooed.

He got up from where he was above you. He yanked his white t-shirt over his head before he pulled down his sweatpants, revealing the outline of his erection in his boxers to you.

“Do you want to feel it?” James took a hold of your smaller hand. Sitting up, you bit your lip and nodded.

“It’s so…big.” The way your voice sounded so innocent like you were discovering something fascinating only made the hardness of his erection more painful. James sucked in a breath as your hand gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Fuck, open your legs.” He commanded urgently.

When you were too distracted by studying the dimensions of his cock to respond, James took matters into his own hands by jamming both hands between your knees to pry them apart.

The sight of your glistening arousal in front of him was a reward in itself. But he couldn’t stop there.

“I already made you cum today and you’re still wet for more. You’re such a greedy little slut.” James purred deeply. “How about this? You use those pretty lips to suck me off while you touch yourself.”

Your big doe eyes only widened at him as your mouth hung open. Just that look on your face only made James want to cum even more.

“Come on, Babydoll,” He reveled in how nervous and tiny he was making you feel. “Don’t be shy. I know you touch yourself while thinking about me. And now, I’m right here.”

He took your hand off his cock. He could feel your eyes studying his movements as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down, making his dick spring out in front of your face.

“Get on your knees.” He easily pulled your smaller body off the bed and onto the floor, while he took his seat where you were.

There you were, naked in front of him, on your knees, staring up at his cock, like you were worshiping it.

James could feel your hesitation as your fingers reached out over the tip.

“You wanna taste it?” James brushed his fingers through your hair, attempting to relax you. You nodded. “Why don’t you ask?”

“C-Can I taste it, please?” How could he ever deny you, especially with you asking him so innocently and politely?

“Of course.” He couldn’t take his eyes off yours as you continued looking up at him while letting his cock slip past your lips. You then reached your hand down between your legs, touching yourself just as he had instructed.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing with his eyes. You were there, really sucking his cock, making the dirty fantasies that had been manifesting inside him come true.

“Fuck, that’s it Baby.” James grunted as he pushed your head down on his cock. “You’re doing so well. You’re so perfect.”

When your wet tongue hit the vein on the underside, James let a string of curses erupt out of him. That seemed to encourage you to keep going as you wrapped your free hand around the base and pumped it in sync with your mouth.

A little while later, James could feel himself getting closer to cumming when his body tensed up.

“Keep going, Baby! Good job!” He kept praising you breathlessly as he stroked your cheek.

He finally felt his cum spill into your mouth as you swallowed it, some of it still spilling down your chin.

“Fuck,” James sighed as he gathered his cum that was on your chin with his thumb and pushed it into your mouth. He felt his gaze darken as you greedily sucked and licked the entire thing. “You’ve been such a good girl. Let me make it up to you.”

James pulled you off the floor and into his body, holding you close to him as he inhaled the scent of your perfume.

As you let the heat of James’ body wrap around you, he flipped you over so that you were on your back again. Glasses or no glasses, he was the most handsome man you’d seen in your life. You no longer gave a damn that he was almost old enough to be your father. Maybe you did have a type. He had made you feel like you were the most special girl in the entire world, and you never wanted to stop feeling that way.

“Hold onto me, okay? I’m going to make you feel good. Don’t you want that?” James asked as he kissed you under your jaw, making you whimper at the pleasure he was imposing on the sensitive area.

“Yeah I want your cock deep in my pussy.” James seemed surprised at the uncharacteristic filth that came out of you to which he raised his eyebrows.

“Fuck, I didn’t think you had such a filthy mouth to go with that innocent face.” James said as he brought his lips onto yours.

As he did so, you felt something against your entrance, presumably the tip of James’ cock. He wiggled around some more until he had finally coated his cock in the slickness of your walls.

“Are you alright?” James rubbed his thumb against the apple of your cheek.

You nodded as you bit your lip. You just needed a little time to adjust to him. His cock was longer and wider than anything you ever inserted into yourself. But he filled you up in the best way possible better than your fingers or even the handle of your hairbrush could.

“It feels so good James.” You were panting as you grabbed a hold of his shoulders. Another scream left you as James’ finger rubbed your clit, adding more pleasure to your cunt.

“I want you to cum for me, Beautiful.” James grunted as he continued to thrust his cock deep into you, making you whimper and moan under him.

You were now getting addicted to the full feeling of James’ cock inside you along with the stimulation on your clit. Your head was starting to feel like it was floating on clouds. In your cock-drunk state, you kept moaning James’ name and telling him how good he was making you feel, just how you did in your countless sex dreams about him.

You couldn’t believe this was real, and it was happening to you.

“James! James! Fuck! I’m so… so close.” You sobbed into his shoulder.

“I got you Baby.” He cooed.

“Feels so big and good…” You continued moaning sentences until it turned into incoherent mumbles.

The full feeling of James’ cock combined with the intense tingling on your clit had your walls squeezing around him soon. You started screaming James’ name again through your orgasm that flooded through you.

“Fucking hell!” He suddenly grabbed your hips, and looked at you as if something came over him.

He then pulled his cock out in the middle of your orgasm. He was kneeling above your spent body with his hard cock in his hand that was still coated in your juices.

With a couple strokes, you felt the warm liquid drip down onto your tits and your stomach. You were now painted with James’ cum, and he was the artist admiring his work.

Both of you took deep breaths as you looked at each other while coming down from your highs.

As soon as James had recovered, he got up and ran his hands through his messy hair. You were too tired to sit up, so you could only watch as he put on his boxers before he went into the master bathroom. You heard the water running, and not long after, James had returned with a towel in his hand.

“How do you feel?” He asked gently as he wiped the towel across where his cum was on your body.

“A little tired.” You sighed. James rubbed the towel in circular motions on your breasts, effectively massaging them. After he cleaned you up, he discarded the towel onto the nightstand.

“Come over here, Beautiful.” James opened his arms up and you rolled into his embrace. You closed your eyes as he pressed faint kisses on the back of your naked shoulder, making you shiver.

You were scared, but also excited to see what your future would look like with James.

Tags

@xcinnamonmalfoyx

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themerrywhumpofmay · 7 months ago

Text

Merry Whump of May 2024 Prompts

Event tags: #mwm2024 #themerrywhumpofmay #mwmday[X]

Thank you everyone for your patience in waiting for this post. We can't wait to see what you create this year! Have fun!

Image text under the cut-

Transcription:

ABOUT THE EVENT

The Merry Whump of May is an event run by @wormwriting and @painsandconfusion. There are 31 days of prompts to be completed each day of May. Feel free to do as much or as little as you’d like.

Prompts can be filled in prose, poetry, art, or any other medium you resonate with.

There will be participation and completionist medals in downloadable pdf format.

Prompts

01 - Breathless “Get back in there” | Ring box | Cliff

02 - Scorching “Don’t you dare.” | Glasses | Storage Shed

03 - Lost “See what happens.” | Screwdriver | Club

04 - Forgettable “Who are you?” | Lamp | Alleyway

05 - Strained “Put that down.” | Electrical wires | Plane

06 - Suspicious “You thought you could get away with this?” | Barbed wire | Riverside

07 - Fallen “Forget about them.” | Piano | Edge of town

08 - Pitch black “I’m fine.” | White-hot blade | Passenger seat

09 - Frostbitten “You’re nothing” | Blanket | Parking lot

10 - Jaded “Revenge is a dish best served.” | Mask | Rooftop

11 - Numb “Pretty little thing.” | Bracelet | Stairwell

12- Known “Let me hear you.” | Garrotte | Desert

13 - Restless “Tell me how it feels.” | Needle | Trail

14 - Punchable “I just want you.” | Rock | Closet

15 - Stone-cold “Let me hold you.” | Candle | Cellar

16 - Naive “Say aaaaa-” | Whip | Library

17 - Hungry “Wait, are you afraid of me?” | Fork | Lake

18 - Conditioned “Why do you love them?” | Record player | Ballroom

19 - Distracted “Rot in hell.” | Soup | crate

20 - Alone “Don’t tell me you forgot about me.” | Lipstick | Training grounds

21 - Charismatic “Sit.” | Vial | Balcony

22 - Charred “It’s been too long.” | Straps | Rafters

23 - Overthrown “Close your eyes.” | Rock | Truck

24 - Shadowed “Break a leg!” | Plants | Cave

25 - Practical “I’ve always loved the rain.” | Bottle | Shop

26 - Resilient “Get in.” | Pocket | Marsh

27 - Mistrusted “You’re trembling.” | Dagger | Couch

28 - Loyal “Smile.” | Water | Workshop

29 - Reflective “Chin up.” | Trap | Office

30 - Tenacious “Did you have a bad dream?” | Paper clip | Doorway

31 - Broken “Last one.” | Key | Under the bed

Alternate Prompts

Hidden

Waking

Betrayed

Garish

Garden

Theater

Docks

Street corner

“Lean on me.”

“I don’t have regrets.”

“Take me.”

Shoe

Ribbon

Corset

Crown

#themerrywhumpofmay #mwm2024 #mwm prompt list #official prompt list #pinned post

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spnbangbang · 20 days ago

Text

Icebreaker

Author: thefandomsinhalor

Artist: Witchy-Worm

Primary Ship: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Other Ships: N/A

Length: 16,000

Warnings: N/A

Tags: Hockey AU, Teammates, Top Castiel/ Bottom Dean, Clothed Sex, Masturbation, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Trust Issues, Mention of Some Childhood Trauma

Posting Date: November 15, 2024

Summary Unlike the rest of his team, Dean hasn’t warmed up to their newest star hockey player, Castiel Novak. Between their long unspoken rivalry, and Castiel’s seemingly pretentiousness, Dean is not holding his breath on this changing any time soon, especially not after a disastrous attempt to find common ground over a cozy, yet forced, dinner. A tiny mix-up with their hotel key cards, unbeknownst to them both, however, might just do the trick.

Excerpt The second Dean grasped what was happening, as Missouri immediately paired him up with Castiel, he regretted having left his hotel room and couldn’t see the situation any other way than a punishment. Their table was smack in the middle of the room, which did not help Dean’s general uneasiness. After taking his seat, feeling as though all eyes were on him, he glanced to his left, where he caught a glimpse of Sam seated with Mick, both seemingly in a deep discussion already. In fact, everyone else, after a quick scan of the room, appeared to be actively conversing, even Coach Ellen, who had Gabriel for company. Judging by their gestures, Dean instantly knew they were talking shop and would give just about anything to be doing the same in that moment. “Feeling adventurous or keeping it safe tonight?” Startled, Dean refocused his attention to his dining companion of the evening, only to find Castiel staring at him intensively. Something that always made his pulse quickened. “Sorry, what?” “Your order. Feeling adventurous or keeping it safe tonight?” “Oh, um, not sure.” He picked up the menu and began reading the list of options. Because of their strict training and regiment, Dean’s diet didn’t allow much of freedom until the off-season. Especially for days before game day, like on this very evening. Which was why, the second he spotted the grilled chicken breast with brown rice and steamed vegetables, he shut the menu, having made his choice. Sam would be proud. “Verdict?” “Playing it safe, I guess.” And because the uncomfortable silence was unbearable, he asked him, as politely as he could, “You?” “I’m not sure.” Still studying the menu, as though he was truly weighing his options, he eventually said in a monotone voice, “I suppose I’ll follow your good example and do the same.” He shut the menu and took a sip of his water. And then, in a dramatic pause, finding Dean’s eyes, he added, “I make no promises for later, however.”

#spn bang bang #spn bang bang 2024 #spn fanfic #spn bang #spn fic #spn art #spn fanworks #supernatural #spn

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idkfitememate · 11 months ago

Note

Wait. What if all the creators are in the world at the same time

But

They're just a group of besties irl

Roommates

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : All Creators (Boar, Otter, Fox, GPV, Tiger)

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 739

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff ending in a little bit of angst

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I’m gonna call everyone by the first letter of their animal, so: Boar is B, Otter is O, Tiger is T, Fox is F, and Primo is P! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

(Natlan & Snezhnaya will be included! They will be N & S for now!)

There will be mentions of the term mother but that’s just because I unfortunately couldn’t write a gender neutral term that fit or sounded right! I apologize if this offends or causes any dysphoria! Again, sorry!

“GET BACK HERE YOU BITCH!”

“NO!”

Ah yes, just a normal day in the shared apartment of these five. Each a respective college member for their school.

Not to say they had high grades or anything. They were average!

…At best-

Currently O and B were fighting over who got to use the shared Genshin account next. And when I say shared I mean that it was shared. By everyone. All seven broke college students. Including their friends (and the couple… ew) who lived next door. S and N.

“NO WAY MAN. I CALLED IT THREE DAYS AGO.” O screeched. They tugged on B’s hair as the two rampaged through the apartment.

“FUCK OFF I GOT THERE FIRST!” B screamed back. They shoved a hand in O’s face as they fought back.

“WILL THE TWO OF YOU KINDLY SHUT UP?!”

Both fighters paused as the voice of T rung throughout the small space. They glanced at each other before letting go, dusting the other off.

“Yes mama.”

“Yes ma’am.”

It had become a running joke that T had become they had become the ‘parent’ of the group. And with them being in the kitchen currently with a frilly pink apron that had “kiss the cook” etched on in cursive… yeah they weren’t beating the allegations.

O & B called the mama in joke, so F & P called them papa to balance it out.

N & S were boring so they just called them T.

Party poopers 😒

As O and B grumbled to themselves, P was in the kitchen helping T.

T was watching closely as P used a knife. Last time they held one fifteen people ended up in the hospital and had an F.B.I. investigation on their ass.

Not fun. -10/10 would never recommend.

And F? They were asleep on the couch.

As B & O walked into the main room from T and P’s room (they shared a room so T could keep an eye on them… and also the computer was in there-), they booth looked towards the kitchen…

Before trying to rush out of the dorm.

“Oh no you don’t,” T mused, gripping the backs of each of their collars. “You two are gonna sit down and think about what you just did. You know there’s no fighting in this house.”

They dragged the two back, P looking out from the kitchen area.

As T continued to scold, P spoke up.

“Hey uhm… where is F?” Then they all heard the sound of a computer starting up. Painfully.

They turned to look at each other before the pampered bitch and chaotic asshole rushed out, the parental unit running after and puppy following close behind.

They all found F sitting at the computer, yawning. Glancing at each other, they all stood behind the chair F was seated in, watching them boot up all fives current obsession:

Genshin Impact.

As F typed in the password, B and O quickly started bickering about what the current player should do. T shook their head with a sigh and P egged them on.

“Uhm… is the screen supposed to be glowing this bright?”

Everyone turned their attention to the computer screen to see what F was referring to. And they were right. The screen was glowing oddly bright…

And then they got sucked in.

Everyone screamed. Especially T.

“I THINK I FORGOT TO TURN OFF THE OVENNNNNNNNN-“

… Uh oh.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍩🍧🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

“Guys?” N called. It had been oddly quiet in their neighbors house, which was an immediate red flag with how lively they were.

Looking back at S, N took out their spare key and giggled the lock open.

Walking in and calling names, S noted that dinned seemed to be half prepared, luckily the stove was off.

The partners continued through the small apartment. Eventually joining back up before T and a P’s room. They looked at each other, shared a kiss and grabbed hands, before walking in.

The computer was on the home screen of Genshin Impact. S took a step forward and clicked enter, maybe just to see where they had left off. If it was in the middle of a mission, then they’d know something was up.

Because no one in this house would ever leave a mission uncleared.

The screen glowed brighter and brighter…

N clutched onto S as the other shielded them.

Seven for seven.

… Nice.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I hope this lives up to what you were expecting! I thought I’d be funny if they were all broke. Imagine sharing your account with six other people. I don’t know if I could do it guys ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Boar!Creator #Otter!Creator #Tiger!Creator #Fox!Creator #Primo Geovishap!Creator #anon <3 #asks <3

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michavs · 6 months ago

Text

FLASH DRIVE

TSUKISHIMA x Fem!Reader

Summary: A photography enthusiast forgets their flash drive at the lab, filled with photos they shouldn't have taken. Tsukishima Kei finds it and threatens to expose them unless they agree to pretend to be in a relationship. Over time, their fake feelings turn real. (Also please help to support my AO3, ty <3)

Tags: Tsukishima x fem!reader, slight Sugawara x reader, fake dating

Warnings: Reader being a stalker, language, blackmailing, grammatical mistakes probably

Click. The sound of your camera went off as you captured a photo of your awesome senior, Sugawara-san, playing soccer on the field in front of your class. You had been admiring him since your first day at this school, he was your mentor for student orientation.

“Cute.” you murmur while looking at the photo you captured, your heart fluttering at the sight of Sugawara’s smile frozen in time.

“You’re such a stalker, you’ll be in a big trouble if you get caught, you know.” your friend Yachi says, smirking at you as she nudges your shoulder playfully. You roll your eyes and gave her a defiant grin. “I don’t care.” you reply, shifting your position to get a better angle to shoot Sugawara-san again. The excitement of capturing the perfect shot makes your pulse quicken.

“Hey, help me out at the volleyball club at 5 PM. Kiyoko-san is absent today.” Yachi says, munching on her food with an air of nonchalance. “Yeah, sure. I’ll study in the lab while waiting.” you respond, your mind already wandering to the photos you’ll edit later.

Later, in the quiet of the lab, you sit ready with your computer. The intention to study is overshadowed by the thrill of transferring your photos. You connect your flash drive, your fingers trembling slightly as you gaze at Sugawara’s handsome face on the screen. Each click brings a new wave of admiration.

“All done!” you say excitedly, your voice echoing softly in the silent room. You pack up your things with a satisfied smile, already anticipating the next opportunity to photograph him. You get up from the lab chair, your steps light as you head to the volleyball court with your bag and camera in hand. Little do you know, in your excitement, you’ve forgotten to turn off the computer and your flash drive is still connected to it. The oversight, unnoticed in your eagerness, sets the stage for the unexpected events to come.

“Yachi, am I late?” you ask, your breath slightly ragged from rushing to the court. “Nope, we’re still waiting for the others.” she replies, glancing up from her attendance sheet. You scan for Sugawara-san’s face among the tall volleyball players, your heart beating faster with anticipation.

“There he is,” you murmur, eyes sparkling upon spotting Sugawara-san next to Daichi-san. Your pulse quickens, and a smile tugs at your lips.

“Hinata… here, Kageyama… here, Tsukishima… eh, where’s Tsukishima?” Yachi asks, her voice echoing in the gym as everyone shakes their heads.

“Tsukishima, the blonde guy with glasses, right? He was studying in the lab earlier,” you say, recalling the fleeting glimpse of him before. The door swings open, and Tsukishima strides in, his tall figure and blond hair unmistakable. “I’m here, sorry I’m late,” he says, placing his bag and headphones aside before joining the practice. Practice begins, and everyone immerses themselves in their activities. You sit on the sidelines, leaning against the wall, eyes drawn to Sugawara-san's every move. He’s graceful and focused, a natural leader on the court.

Suddenly, a loud thud catches your attention. BRUKKK You look over to see Tsukishima sprawled on the ground. Your heart skips a beat as everyone rushes to surround him, their concern palpable.

“I’m fine, no need to worry.” he reassures, brushing off their concerns and returning to the game. Your eyes follow him, noticing an item that has fallen from his pocket and landed right in front of you. A flash drive, identical to yours. You pick it up, frowning. “Hmm weird, it feels just like mine.” you mutter, rubbing the flash drive. Then you see it, a label with your name on it.

‘(Y/N) GRADE 10-C’

OH. MY. GOD. Panic sets in as you remember what you’d done before coming here. Your heart races, a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. You forgot to take out the flash drive, and you left your computer on. Crap, what if he saw the files?

Great, now your life is over.

After practice, you gather your courage and approach Tsukishima. “Hey, can we talk for a second?” you call out, your voice trembling slightly. He’s walking with his friend, Tadashi, but they stop and turn to face you.

“Can’t you just say it here?” he replies curtly, with that annoying look on his face. You pull the flash drive he dropped from your pocket. “Oh, that. Do you know whose it is? Looks like they forgot to take it,” Tsukishima responds, a sly grin on his face.

“It’s mine, idiot. My name is literally right there,” you snap back, your frustration bubbling over. He whispers something to his friend, which you can’t hear. Tadashi gives you a sympathetic look before leaving, leaving you alone with Tsukishima.

“So, you’re the little stalker, huh?” he smirks, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“It’s for the photography club assignment, nothing else,” you retort, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, really? Then what’s with the folder named ‘Pretty Boy, Suga-san’?” he teases, stepping closer until only a few centimeters separate you. You glare up at him, your height disadvantage making you feel even more vulnerable. “Let me see the flash drive.” he demands. You show it to him, but he suddenly snatches it and holds it above his head.

“Hey, give it back!” you cry, jumping to reach it.

In an unfortunate twist, you trip over Tsukishima’s foot. Luckily, he isn’t weak, so neither of you falls completely. You crash into his chest, and he catches your left hand while still holding the flash drive. His other hand steadies your waist. “Wow wow, watch it.” he complains, his voice softer, letting go of you.

“Well, give me back my flash drive then.” you demand, straightening your uniform and glaring at him.

“I will, but do me a favor first.”

“Huh, why are you so demanding.” you mutter, crossing your arms.

“Well, if you won’t do it, say goodbye to your image then Ms. Stalker.” he threatens, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“No. Please don’t share it, I’ll do anything you want.” you sob, your eyes starting to water. Panicking, you grab Tsukishima's shoulders, pleading desperately. “Wow, chill. I didn’t know you’d freak out like this,” he chuckles, gently prying your hands off his shoulders. “Let’s go on a date for a month.” he adds, his tone flat.

“Stop joking,” you shoot back, annoyed and desperate.

“I’m not joking. If you don’t want to, then whatever,” he shrugs, a smirk playing on his lips. You roll your eyes at his smug expression. “Fine, it’s a deal then.”

“Yeah, it’s a deal. See you tomorrow, Ms. Girlfriend.” he says, giving you a wink before walking away, leaving you standing there, trying to process everything that had just happened.

“Damn it, please tell me this is just a dream.” you mutter to yourself, hoping for an escape from this surreal situation.

──────────────────

Weeks has been passed, you and Tsukishima grow closer, and what started as a fake relationship begins to feel real. You start to notice the little things about him – the way he listens intently when you talk, his subtle acts of kindness, and his rare, genuine smiles. As the month of your fake dating arrangement nears its end, you and Tsukishima walk home together after his volleyball practice for what you believe might be the last time. . The streets are quiet, the sky painted with the warm hues of the setting sun. You feel a mix of relief and sadness, knowing that this bizarre yet strangely comforting chapter of your life is about to close.

The silence between you stretches, comfortable yet tinged with an unspoken tension. You steal glances at Tsukishima, wondering if he feels the same way. As you reach a familiar corner, you slow your pace, reluctant to let this moment end. Tsukishima seems to notice, his steps matching yours until you both come to a stop. He turns to face you, his usual cool eyes softened by an unusual intensity in his eyes.

“(Y/N).” he starts, his voice steady but quieter than usual.

“Yeah?” you respond, trying to keep your voice casual despite the fluttering in your chest. He takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “This month… it was supposed to be just a favor, right? A fake relationship to help me out,” You nod, unsure where he’s going with this but afraid to hope.

“But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake for me,” he admits, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. “I know we agreed to end this after a month, but… I don’t want it to end.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What are you saying, Tsukishima?”

“I’m saying that I like you, (Y/N). Not just for this month, not just for the sake of our arrangement. I genuinely like you,” he confesses, his voice earnest and a bit vulnerable. “And I want us to be real.” You stare at him, trying to process his words. The cold, aloof Tsukishima is looking at you with a raw honesty that you’ve never seen before.

“Tsukishima…” you whisper.

“Kei.” he corrects softly.

Your own feelings bubbling to the surface. “I like you too. I’ve liked you for a while now, but I was afraid to say anything because I thought it was just part of the deal.” He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. “It’s not part of any deal. I want to be with you, for real.”

You smile, tears of relief and joy welling up in your eyes. “I want that too, Kei.” With a small, relieved smile, Tsukishima leans in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to your lips. It’s gentle and sweet, filled with the promise of something real and lasting.

As you pull away, you both smile at each other, the tension of the past month melting away.

“Ah right here, you’ve fulfilled your end of the deal” he says and hands back your glash drive. You take it, “Thanks.” you reply softly with a small giggles.

He looks at you for a moment before speaking again. “Since I’m your boyfriend now, you should delete those Sugawara-san’s photos, okay?” he says.

“I’ll delete them, i guess.” you reply, looking at him playfully. He chuckles, a rare, genuine laugh. “Yeah yeah, now let’s go home.”

“Mhm, let’s go home, Kei.” you agree, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. Walking hand in hand, you both head home, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

From that moment on, your relationship with Kei blossoms. The teasing and banter continue, but now it’s filled with affection and understanding. You find comfort in his presence, and he becomes your rock, always there to support you. Your friends notice the change, and they’re happy for you both. Even Tadashi, who has always been supportive, gives you a thumbs-up and a wink.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you

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littlespacereader · 26 days ago

Note

Hello, I was wondering if you would write a fic on Agere Steddie (Steve <3 Eddie) from Stranger Things?

Prompt: Steve finds out what agere is (even though he's been doing it for years behind his parents backs) through Eddie who has been a caregiver for a while. He's been having an awful day. His car broke down so he has to call Eddie bc Robbie isn't answering her phone and he can't take it anymore. He regresses in Eddie's van on the way home, hugging his hoodie like a blanket because he doesn't have any stuffies on him.

(preferred additions not necessary but would be fun: Black paci in a plastic case from Eddies bag, Steve wearing a Scooby-Doo shirt or watching it on TV, Eddie calling him Prince or Bubs.) (also plz dont use the other word for baby cat its a trigger.)

(if you don't take this it's chill, also, take your time. You're appreciated and loved!!)

Thank you so much for your request! I saw this story and my heart melted! I’ve never written Steve as a Little and Eddie as a Caregiver before (I’ve written them swapped) but this was so fun to write a different side of them! I’ll definitely have to write more of them like this! I hope you don’t mind me making it themed to fall with the leaves and Halloween themed. I tried to incorporate everything you asked as well! I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request! @broke-art-girl 💞💞

Rescuing The Prince🍂🎃

Caregiver! Eddie Munson & Little! Steve Harrington

Tags- an accident, hurt/comfort, cuddles, forehead kisses, crying, comfort, overstimulation, happy ending, pacifier, cellphones in the 80s…sorry

Steve had been regression for years…but he never realized he was. Years of his life spent hiding his stuff animals till the night time so he could cuddle them, finding himself waking up with his thumb in his mouth, always playing with toys he found, slipping into a younger frame of mind.

It’s never happened at school, never infront of anyone else. But after a stressful day of finals, some arguments with Billy and others, Steve started regressing before he even made it to his car in the school parking lot.

Immediately Robin and Eddie stopped him from driving, seeing that something was wrong. Robin could understand what was happening but Eddie immediately did.

Eddie knew about regression and the signs of it. He swooped in and took Steve back to his trailer to be taken care of while he regressed. The next day the two talked and Eddie explained regression to Steve. It was as if someone had opened the shade to a dark house.

It was after that day that Eddie became his go to Caregiver whenever he regressed, feeling safe and comfortable around the heavy metal D&D player. And Eddie couldn’t get enough of his cuddle bug Little.

~~~

Steve sunk back into his seat, taking a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. The fall rush of customers had overstimulated the heck out of him today, and with it created a growing need for regression.

The ice cream parlor was nothing but busy. Usually in the fall there were less customers, I mean who wants ice cream when it’s cold outside?

But the owners thought it would be a great idea to add pumpkin spice to their menu. Let’s just say everyone was running to the ice cream parlor to get a taste of the new flavor.

He held his shaking hands, trying to stop the trembling, trying to stop the tears starting to build in his eyes.

He would be okay, he kept telling himself, he just needed to get home. I mean it couldn’t get any worse than that in there.

Shoving the keys into the ignition, he pulled out of that parking lot and got the hell out of there.

He drove down the tree arched road. Fall leaves falling from the sky, all in different shades of red, yellow and orange. The radio played in the background softly as Steve navigated his way through Hawkins.

He would be okay…he would-…….why does it smell like burnt toast?

Suddenly his car started to jerk forward and putter on the road. He quickly pulled into the side of the just in time before the car died all together.

Steve sat there, in utter disbelief and shock. He tried turning his car back on but the ignition wouldn’t start. It just puttered then died again. He tried it two more times before he gave up.

And from his shock and disbelief, came anger. He slammed his hands on the wheel and said every curse word in the book to his car.

It was a release, a release of emotions from an overwhelming day. He started to cry as regression started to take hold. How would he get home? Was his car even savable? What was he going to do?

He grabbed his phone with a shaking hand. The tears in his eyes started made it hard to find his contacts.

His thumb hovered above Robin’s phone number. She was still at the ice cream parlor but he knew she would come and pick him up, she would take him home.

But that’s not exactly everything he wanted, was it? No. He wanted to be comforted, he wanted to be held, cuddled and told everything was going to be okay.

He wanted his Caregiver….he wanted Eddie.

He clicked on his name and waited anxiously as the phone rang, then rang, then-

“Stevie! How was work today?” Eddie’s cheerful voice rang through the phone.

Steve couldn’t even form words hearing Eddie. He just started crying, sobbing on the phone while trying to tell Eddie what was going on but it came as bits and pieces.

“Wowowowow. Bud, you gotta take a deep breath, okay? Come on, take a deep breath with me. In.” Eddie took a deep breath, and Steve followed.

“And out.” Steve followed his instructions again.

They repeat the action twice until Steve isn’t sobbing anymore.

“Feel better?”

“No.” Steve replied with a voice that told Eddie he was pouting without having to see him.

“Alright, well you sound calmer. That’s progress isn’t it Prince?”

Steve couldn’t stop the small smile on his face. But he still begrudgingly added a “…yeah…”

“So what happened?”

“My job sucks! Everyone was so mean today and it was so loud and everything was too much. And…And I wanted to go home and my car…I think it broke and I have no way to go home and now I-.”

“Stevie, Stevie, it’s okay, I understand now,” Eddie quickly stopped him from going right back to getting upset. “It’s been a long day, a long overwhelming day for you.”

Steve sniffled, rubbing his nose with his sweater sleeve. “Yeah…”

“Where are you at? I’m coming to pick you up.” He could hear Eddie shuffling around in his trailer.

“I don’t know.” He looked around outside. “I’m close to the corner of Washington but I’m stuck on Palmer. I’m right after the old movie theater.”

“Perfect. Thank you for telling me. Alright, I’ll be there to save you as fast as humanly possible. Wait for me my little Prince!” Eddie said overly dramatic to cheer him up.

And it did for a second, until Steve felt a twinge from his bladder, he whined holding the phone tighter. “Hurry please.”

“I’ll promise I’ll be there soon. Stay close to your car and don’t wonder off okay? Love you Bubs, be there soon.”

“Love you too Dadee.” Steve sighs as he hangs up the phone. He would be there soon, Eddie’s trailer wasn’t too far from where he was.

He squirms in his seat as he waits inside his car. Eddie told him to stay next to it, and he wanted to be good, after all he was coming to save him. But after a couple more minutes he realized his situation was a lot more dire than he thought.

He should’ve gone when he was at the ice cream parlor, but he was so set on getting out of there the moment he was off work that he didn’t think. He just wanted to be away from the people, from the noise.

Now he was crossing his legs and hoping it would just go away. He looked around, the old movie theater was really the only place he was around. There were no stores on Palmer for at least another block. And it wasn’t like he could just go outside on was the busy street.

Tears started to fall again as he realized his battle was one he was slowly losing. Eventually his pants started to get more and more warm as his body let go, having an accident in his car and in his pants.

This day could and has gotten even worse. He covered his face, crying into his hands as his pants got darker with wetness. He wanted to disappear, he wanted today to be over.

After a couple of minutes was a tap at his window that brought him out of his crying, “You’re under arrest. No Little as cute as you is allowed to have a bad day. Come out with your hands up.”

Steve turned and met his eyes with Eddie’s. “Dadee wait-.”

Before he had a chance to stop him or explain, the door was ripped opened and his wet pants and accident were on full display for Eddie.

Steve rarely had accidents, and when he did it was usually from a nightmare in the middle of the night. This…this was the first time during the day.

“Oh Bubs…” Eddie looked to Steve sympathetically. “What happened?”

“I didn’t…I tried to hold it…I didn’t know I…” he tried to say between sobs.

“Awwww, it’s okay bubs, I’ve got you, I’m here now. We’ll take care of this.” Eddie pulled Steve into a small hug, rubbing his back with one hand and cupping the back of his head with the other.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other.

Eventually Eddie broke apart, realizing he needed to focus on getting Steve out of here and cleaned up. He broke apart the hug, ending it with a small kiss to his temple. “There we are, no more tears pretty boy.” He leaned forward and wiped the last of his tears away.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to go back to my trailer, get you cleaned up and then the two of us are going to relax the rest of the day. How does that sound?”

“W-What about my car?”

“We’ll worry about this tomorrow. Right now as your knight in shining armor my biggest priority is my little prince. Come on, let’s go home.” He held his hand out for him.

Steve took it immediately, stepping out of his car and looking down at his soaked pants. He started to whine as tears brimmed his eyes.

“It’s okay, accidents happen to the best of us. You’re okay Stevie. Just a little accident.”

“I’m still big?” Steve asked with the littlest voice.

“Of course you are. But even big boy can have accidents. Don’t make you any less than you are. Accidents happen to everyone.” Eddie reassured.

They start walking Eddie leads him back to his van.

“But I’m gonna make your seats gross…”

“No you won’t.”

“Yes I will, don’t want to dirty your van up…”

“I’m telling you this van has seen much worse.” He opens the door for him, “It’s fine Bubs, really.”

Steve hesitates for a moment, looking back to Eddie who gives him a reassuring nod. He climbs in and takes a seat in the passenger seat.

He goes to grab his seatbelt but Eddie grabs it for him, buckling him up, “Safety first. Can’t have my little Prince get hurt on the way home.” He smile back to him, patting his shoulder before he closes the door.

He gets into his seat and grabs his bag from the back. “Alright let’s get you settled and then we’ll be on our way.”

He digs through his bag before stopping and grabbing a black pacifier from its case, specifically Steve’s favorite paci. “Here bubs, this will help relax you.” Eddie hands it to him.

Steve plays with it for a minute before he puts it in his mouth and instantly relaxes. There’s something so soothing about it that just brings him back down.

“There we go, starting to feel better already.” Eddie smiles.

“Now I couldn’t find Mr. or even Mrs. Bear before I came here. I think they’re hiding extra good in my trailer. But I have a substitute.”

He leans back and grabbed his oversized hoodie from the back of the van. Steve reaches for it greedy. He brings it to his nose nose and inhale the scent that’s so clearly Eddie.

He brings is close, wrapping it around him, hugging it close. It was as if the world started to melt away.

Eddie smiles, buckling himself up and starting his van. “There we go. All settled?” He asked getting a small nod from the Little.

“Good, let’s go home.” Eddie put his van in drive and the two started to head back to the trailer.

~~~

Cleaned up and dressed in his favorite Scooby-Doo shirt, Steve and Eddie settled on the couch, watching the show together.

While it wasn’t the greatest idea to give a kid a ton of candy, in this case a regressed Little, Eddie felt after a long rough day a bit of their saved Halloween candy couldn’t hurt.

So there they were, Eddie’s arm wrapped around Steve. Steve watching the show carefully, face full of chocolate, cuddle close to Eddie, with the wrappers piled up on the coffee table while Scooby-Doo played on the tv.

The perfect way to end a horrible day.

“I think it’s the uncle.” Steve broke the silence, his eyes never leaving the tv.

“What? It can’t be him.”

“Yes it can! We haven’t seen him whenever the monster is around!”

“So?” Eddie smirked, knowing it was probably the uncle, but playing along as clueless.

“SO, that makes him suspicious!”

The cartoon plays on and sure enough…

“AHA! SEE!! I said it was him! I said it was!!”

“Wow! Look at you bub! So smart! I had no idea!!” Eddie smiles ruffling his hair.

Steve relaxes back against Eddie as the next cartoon begins to play.

“Maybe we should go as Scooby-Doo characters for Halloween?”

“Really? Who would I be?”

“Shaggy? And I’d be Fred because I’m pretty.” Steve giggles.

“I’m not going to be Shaggy but…” Eddie laughs, “Maybe I’ll be the vampire that chases the gang around.”

“No! Vampire!” Steve jumps up from the couch and starts running giggling all the way.

“Oh no! I’m coming to get you Fred!” Eddie holds his arms up and starts hissing, running after his Little Prince.

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daughterof-aphrodit · 1 year ago

Text

Teaser Idiot - (Y. JW)

football player!Jungwon × Reader

Summary: You never imagined that one day you would share a house with a boy, and that boy would be the hottest in the entire college. Yang Jungwon.

Warnings: reader with impure thoughts, insinuation of sex.

Hello people, I've been with this project for some time, and I'm just finishing it. I hope you enjoy the story preview. I have the list of tags open! If you are interested just comment ✨

[...]

The boy tried to talk to you all day, but you ran away, like he was the one with a contagious disease. Some people in the halls found it strange to see the star of the football team looking their way so much.Jungwon had a little hope of being able to talk to you at night in the shared apartment, but apparently he was wrong too.

— We need to talk, open the door. — He's been trying to convince you to open the door of his room for a few minutes.

You pretend not to hear the boy and turn up the music on your phone to drown out the sounds of his voice.

— Are you putting Chase Atlantic so you can't hear my voice? Serious?

You don't trust yourself to talk to the boy right now. My god, why doesn't the image of him with only a towel around his waist leave your mind? You had seen other boys like this before. Why did he look so sinful? The butterflies in your stomach increase just thinking about the boy without the towel. How he must endure several rounds for being an athlete. Or his head between his legs.

Have self control, he's an idiot. Remember all the times he stressed you out.

— I think I have a spare key to his room. I'll go get it — He talks to himself, and soon you can hear the footsteps walking away from the door and minutes later coming back.

Is he really going to open the door?

Upon hearing the key, you scream the first excuse that pops into your mind.

— I'm not wearing anything Jungwon.

For a moment the key stops and he is silent.

— Was that an invitation?

— What? No! — Did that “no” sound convincing?You hope so.

— I don't mind talking to you without clothes. So the situation is fair with what happened in the morning.

Damn it.

— It wasn't my choice to see you almost naked. — You say offended.

— No? So why are you staring at me like you want me to put you over the sink and fuck you?

Hell, you didn't have a good answer for that.

— Can we talk some other time? I am busy now.

He thinks for a moment, agrees and leaves towards his own room.

You breathe a sigh of relief that you manage to get rid of the conversation once again. But what Jungwon said just a few minutes ago still sticks in your mind, and apparently it wasn't going to come out as soon as you wanted.

[...]

— You haven't been very happy for a few days, but today you look worse. Won't you tell me what's going on? — her friend Yuri asks.

And at that moment you decide that you are no longer going to hide the reason for your daily stress. And he tells her that he is sharing the apartment with Jungwon.

— Oh my god, are you living with Yang Jungwon? The hottest guy on the football team? I envy you.

— What? Don't be jealous, he's an idiot.

— Okay, let's find reasons not to like him. Is he disorganized? Does his stuff smell weird? Does he not shower?

Damn it. Jungwon was very organized, at least in the apartment. The kitchen is always clean, and the living room is organized. And no, his stuff smells wonderful, especially his clothes. And Jungwon seems to be addicted to bathing.

— He's perfect, isn't he? - Yuri teases you.

— No. He's an idiot who thinks he's better than everyone else.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #jungwon smut #enhypen drabbles #enhypen hard hours

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goldendiie · 24 days ago

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the confessional

Or: an exploration of Sarge's religion in The Third Blink AU. (Repost of something I deleted from my AO3).

The mid-September air was thick and sweet with the smell of harvest, chilled by the early tides of Autumn. The stars would have been beautiful on a night like this, if anyone had been looking. The Parson County High School football field was cast under bright-white light: the first in the line of regional games had just finished in a landslide win, as usual.

Willie Jones was seventeen. The autumn of his senior year had been good to him, so far. He cared little for his schoolwork, these days: he’d much rather spend his time on the football field, or raccoon hunting with his friends. That’s what high school was for, he figured: enjoying youth while he still had it, unconcerned with his future.

He collected his gear, shoving it into an aged duffel bag. As he left the locker room, he carried it over his shoulder, with his helmet and shoulder pads in his opposite hand. He thought idly about what would happen when his team inevitably won the championship. Perhaps they would be deemed the best high school football team in Ohio; for a moment, he fantasized about winning nationals.

“Hey, Jones!” Someone called to his left.

He turned. Gerry Oswald, the starting quarterback, waved him down. He was tall and broad-shouldered, bigger than any of the other guys on the team. Willie crossed the parking lot to join him.

“We’re going to get a twelve-pack and go cruising,” Gerry said, “Want to come?”

Willie looked past him, to the small group of people that would evidently be tagging along. Most were football players, and all were seniors.

“Won’t your dad have something to say about you keeping the truck out late?” Willie asked.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” Gerry said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

The gesture sent shockwaves down Willie’s spine. His mind was terrifyingly blank, and his skin buzzed where Gerry’s hand had anchored.

“I, uh… I better not,” he managed. He came up with some half-assed excuse. “I told my dad I’d help him out around the auto shop, tomorrow morning. I don’t want to be hungover.”

“You’re lame, Jones.” Gerry moved his hand, and scuffed up Willie’s hair; afterwards, it fell back to his side. “Tell you what—We’ll drop by your house in a couple of hours. Maybe you’ll quit being such a square by then.”

“If you really want to,” Willie said. He offered a smile. “I doubt I’ll change my mind, though.”

Gerry was already walking away. “Think about it, Jones.”

Willie deflated, trying his hardest not to watch him walk away. He forced himself to turn, walking back toward his hand-me-down Jeep. His skin still buzzed from where Gerry had touched him; his mind began to wander, but he stopped it before it went too far.

The steering wheel was cold to touch, but it thankfully grounded him. He fumbled through the console for his pack of Newports, and was quick to light one up.

Incidents like this—the touch, the strange yearning, the terrible, awful feeling that sat in his gut—had become more frequent in the past months. He wished that things were different; but, as a realist, he knew that they weren’t. There was a bright neon sign that flashed in the back of his mind, but Willie simply chose not to look at it.

Silently, he smoked his cigarette. Across the parking lot, he could see Gerry and the others crowding into an old pickup truck. If he listened hard enough, he could hear their laughter.

Distantly, he regretted not joining them. It would have been fun; but frankly, he did not trust himself to be drunk around everyone else. All it would take was another touch of the hand, another gesture…

No. It wasn’t good to think like that. It wasn’t normal.

Willie fit the key into the ignition, and put the Jeep into gear. As he drove away, he shoved every bad thought into the back of his mind, where they fit very neatly into an unlabeled mental box.

. . .

Six days later, Willie told his parents that he was going to take a walk to the corner store. He politely declined when his twin brother, Wade, offered to tag along; “I’ll be quick,” he said, “I’m just going to buy a new lighter.”

It was a beautiful evening, the kind that only came around toward at the very beginning of fall. The sky was pink, and the air was still and cool. Leaves crunched under his boots as he walked, and he resisted the urge to light a cigarette.

He walked two blocks, stopping outside of a church. He stared at its door for several moments, struggling to find his courage: his family had attended this church every Sunday for longer than he could remember. Silently, he prayed that the priest would not recognize his voice.

The door creaked as Willie entered. Despite the evening, a light was on in the confession box.

Hesitantly, Willie approached. His heart pounded in his chest as he opened the door and stepped inside. He breathed deeply, struggling to calm himself.

His voice was a near whisper as he spoke. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” he said. “It has been three years since my last confession.”

“Welcome,” the priest hummed. “What do you have to confess?”

“I…” Willie took a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I can’t—”

“God will forgive you.”

“I’m… I think I’m a homosexual,” he croaked. “I’ve had… impure thoughts, about other boys in my class.” He finished, quietly: “For this and all my sins, I’m sorry.”

“Have you acted on this?” The priest asked.

“No,” Willie said. He added, silently, never.

“Then you have not sinned, my child,” The priest said; his voice sounded as though he was smiling. “You are simply weathering another of God’s tests. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Willie stared blankly at the wall across from him. “… What?”

“You have not sinned unless you’ve acted upon it,” The priest clarified, kindly. “Lead not into temptation, child.”

Quietly, the priest ended the confessional. Perhaps he was meant to be stuck with this burden; God wanted him to live a normal life, despite whatever he felt. They key was, of course, to never act on it.

. . .

It wasn’t that Willie lost his religion when he enlisted. Quite the opposite, actually: he knew that God watched over him in Vietnam, and he knew that he was ensured safe passage home. Really, he had neglected to go to church for convenience’s sake: he was not terribly worried about his eternity, in the little time that he had to himself.

He ended up as a quartermaster in Arizona, far into the desert. He liked it there: the weather was always warm, and it hardly ever rained. It certainly made boot camps a little bit difficult, but he believed that it was better training, anyway.

Soldiers held confessionals at small-town bars: between pulls of whiskey, they spoke of their lives overseas. I saw what happened in Phuoc Tuy, a young man would say; or, I cheated on my wife with a prostitute in Saigon.

Willie (or, rather, Sarge—as most people called him, these days) never joined in their religious ceremonies. He observed from afar, listening. He resigned himself to keeping his secrets to himself; he was not keen on being cast out from the group.

Besides: his memories of Gerry Oswald after the regional football game were something he liked to keep to himself. It was a grim reminder of who he was, what he was; another of God’s tests.

. . .

“Cigarette?”

There was man—beautiful, young, with flowers in his hair and beads hanging from his neck—offering an open pack of Marlboro Reds. Sarge took one, despite himself. He’d been trying to quit.

He replied, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Sarge was twenty-three, and it had been five years since his last confession. He tried desperately to remind himself of temptation, but failed miserably.

Instead, he was occupied by the heavenly man that shared his cigarettes. His name was Fillmore. He was nineteen years old, and he’d dropped out of college to open a business. He protested the war in Vietnam, smoked marijuana, and believed in Free Love.

Together, they stood outside of one of the bars on the Radiator Springs downtown strip. They had been drinking together—not a lot, just a few beers—and Fillmore had wanted to step outside of a smoke. Sarge could nearly feel the tides of addiction upon him; he joined him for a cigarette far more often than he should.

“You still haven’t told me,” Fillmore was saying, puffing smoke. “Why didn’t you go to college? I mean, you had that football scholarship, and everything…”

“I didn’t want to,” Sarge replied. “I liked the military more.”

“Weird, man,” Fillmore whistled. “I wonder what you would’ve been like. More jock-ish, I guess.”

He was nearly enchanting in the evening light. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with kind eyes and a nice smile. He appeared to chuckle to himself as he took another pull from his smoke; with his eyes turned elsewhere, Sarge found it incredibly easy to stare. He fixated on the curve of his collarbone underneath his shirt, the way his fingers curved as they held his cigarette, how his brown hair fell into his eyes whenever he ducked his head.

A bite from the apple of Eden had led to the creation of humanity.

. . .

Sarge’s mind burned against the inside of his skull as Fillmore walked him home after the fireworks show. His lips buzzed where Fillmore had kissed them, barely an hour earlier; he was certain that he looked disheveled, kiss-swollen and blushing. Oh, how he wished it to continue: he wondered what Fillmore would taste like in the dark and without clothes, how they might touch each other then. Their sin might become holy through the sacrament of free love.

“Listen,” Fillmore spoke (and, Sarge wished that he could listen to his voice forever). “I, uh… If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Sarge nodded, unable to bring himself to speak.

“For anything,” Fillmore continued. “Like, uh…” he laughed softly looking away. “Anything.”

“Okay,” Sarge managed.

They stopped outside of his motel room door. The space between them crackled with electricity; it was almost as though a sort of chemical reaction would take place, if they stood together for too long.

“Goodnight,” Fillmore said, voice barely above a whisper.

Come inside, Sarge wanted to say. Let me have this.

Instead, he echoed: “Goodnight.”

The motel room door felt more like a mental barrier than anything else. Outside, there was Fillmore: beautiful, tragically attractive, kiss burning like cigarette ashes on bare fingers. Inside, Sarge was alone with his thoughts: Lead not into temptation: deliver us from Evil.

Temptation lived across the street, in a multicolored geodome. He smelled like smoke, listened to rock and roll, and dropped acid. Temptation had wandering hands and pearlescent teeth, and kissed like he really meant it.

. . .

Perhaps his dishonorable discharge from the military was God’s way of punishing him. It certainly seemed that way, when everything in Sarge’s life was going wrong.

That’s why he found it so, incredibly easy to give in to proverbial temptation. He slept with Fillmore, very shortly after everything happened. If God had already forsaken him, then there was no returning. It was strange, really, for something so incredible to be considered unholy.

The terror of it all caught up to him eventually. You have not sinned unless you act upon it.

He spilled his heart on accident, begging Fillmore to understand: It’s not normal—none of this is! This wasn’t supposed to happen—not to me, not to you, not to anyone…!

“It’s wrong, you know that?” he finished, breathless. “It’s wrong.”

Fillmore looked back at him earnestly. His devil-horns were missing, now; he looked back at Sarge apologetically, sympathetically.

“It’s not wrong,” Fillmore said quietly. “It’s just… human nature.” He offered a smile, squeezing Sarge’s hand, “There’s nothing wrong about love.”

. . .

“I think I prayed for you,” Fillmore was saying, in his trademark corniness. “I asked for happiness, and I ended up with you.”

Sarge wouldn’t exactly call it dating, but he would call it love. It was tumultuous and rocky—never perfect—but it was theirs. He’d been seeing Fillmore for the better part of three years, now. It had never felt like sinning.

Sarge began to think that his personal heaven was something like this: sitting close to one another, sharing a cigarette, talking quietly. He would exist in these moments forever, if he could.

“I thought you didn’t believe in God,” Sarge finally replied.

“I don’t,” Fillmore said. He rested his head back on the pillow, sighing heavily. “You know there’s other stuff to pray to, right?”

“… Such as?”

Fillmore looked back at him as though it was obvious. “The universe,” he replied. “Who do you think controls the tarot cards?”

“I don’t think tarot cards are real, in the first place.”

“Ugh. Whatever, man.”

Though they had their issues, Sarge did love him. This is something that he would not deny: sometimes, he liked to think that they would grow old together. Perhaps they’d still play their drinking games at the local bar, or they’d do the Sunday crossword together down at the diner. But they’d still be them, through everything.

That, in itself, was enough to put Sarge at ease. Perhaps this was worth it, between heaven and hell combined.

Lord, Fillmore was certainly rubbing off on him.

. . .

Parson County, Ohio, had gone largely unchanged in the years that Sarge was gone. The high school had begun to fall into a state of slight disrepair, and the downtown strip had aged considerably; though, frankly, it probably always looked like that.

He had not returned to his family home since he left for his second tour in Vietnam, now about six years ago. It looked mostly as he remembered it: painted blue, with white shutters and a picket fence, and enough room for the dogs to run outside. His childhood bedroom had gone unchanged as well: football pennants and photographs still hung from the walls, and his bookbag was still discarded in the corner.

Family dinner was something he had somewhat dreaded, upon his return. His father stared calculatingly at him, one eyebrow raised.

“So, you’ve been out of the military for three years,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“You haven’t settled down with anyone, have you?” His father looked at him knowingly, “No old lady helping out around that surplus shop of yours?”

Sarge swallowed thickly. “No,” he said, and it was only a partial lie.

“Mm-hm.” He nodded, unconvinced, “Well, we’re waiting on some grandchildren, so—"

“Thomas,” His mother interrupted dotingly.

. . .

That evening, Sarge returned to the church. It loomed over him imposingly; the door creaked in the same fashion as he entered, and the light in the confession booth was still on.

This time, he did not go to the booth: instead, he approached the pulpit, looking up to the crucified statue of Jesus. It stared back at him almost expectantly, as though it was waiting for him to atone. He did not pretend to pray; in fact, he’d probably forgotten how.

He thought of Gerry Oswald, of Fillmore, of smoking cigarettes and the dull flame of a Zippo lighter. He thought of confessionals in boxes and bars, and acting upon temptation.

I have not sinned by loving.

#pixar cars #cars fandom #cars sarge #cars fillmore #sargemore #the third blink #i sort of forgot that i gave him a twin #wade jones. hm. maybe i should expand on him somehow.

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chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang · 3 months ago

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“Dream Team, Baby!” (Nandor x reader)

Word count: 1,090

Age restrictions: 16+ (vulgar language)

Tags: Fluff, crack, you determine whether the relationship is platonic or romantic

Synopsis: Nandor and Guillermo decided that local community Basketball practices would be a fun pastime activity. But Nandor becomes way too competitive with the coach.

Author’s note: WRITERS BLOCK IS KILLING ME:_( Had to learn rules of basketball for this one. Please forgive me, actual basketball players.

_____________________________________________

The strobe lights illuminated a sterile changing room in the local sports complex of Staten Island. You picked one of the lockers and put away the clothes, that you were planning on changing into after the practice. Once you closed it up, you took your towel, water bottle, whistle and made your way into the hallway, that led to the good old basketball court. It was clean, newly polished and ready to be stomped all over by your students. With your keys, you opened the supply closet and started to prepare for the practice, that would start in fifteen minutes.

You were a coach for the local community sports club. Mostly, your student base consisted of people over 40, who either had a mid-life crisis or had nothing better to do. They didn’t really play well or even try for that matter. On average, they were there to chat and get a little bit of physical activity into their lives and you were okay with that. Ever since you got out of professional basketball, due to really toxic circumstances, you just wanted a calm and simple life.

People started to slowly fill the spacious gym. You greeted every single one by name and smiled as they told you about some mundane shit that happened since the last time you saw each other, which was literally two days ago. To your delight, there were some new younger faces in the community. Two men, who couldn’t look more different from each other, but also strangely completed one another.

“Hello! You’re here for the basketball practice, right? My name is [reader]. I will be your coach.” You shook each of their hands.

“Greetings, [reader]. My name is Nandor. This is my fami-… I mean, totally normal friend Guillermo.” The taller man smiled.

“Nandor and Guillermo. Got it! First name basis is okay?” They nodded. “Right. It’s very nice to have you here today. Now, tell me, do you have any prior experience in basketball?” You went by the standard script.

“I have played some basketball in high school, but… not much after that. I know the rules though.” Guillermo explained.

“Okay, that’s a good start. And you, Nandor?”

“Well, I have had quite the practice over the years, so I would say that I am rather skilled in this sport. Maybe even more skilled than you.” He proudly said.

“That is greaaaat…” You uttered through a very strained smile. You heard this type of comments a lot from people who could barely throw a ball into the hoop. “Let’s hit the court, shall we?”

You’ve collected all the students to stand in the line.

“Okay, everyone, let’s start with a light jog around the court. Two laps, let’s go.” You led people behind you.

The warmup was quite normal. You glanced at the new guys from time to time and they seemed to be keeping up very well with the rest. After some simple stretches you went on to actual practice, doing little obstacle race with the balls to learn control and speed. Your job there was to just make sure everyone’s doing their part, observe and pick up the cones that people occasionally knocked over by accident. You couldn’t help, but notice, that Nandor guy was actually very comfortable with the ball. Maybe he did play a lot, like he said. But you were yet to see him in action.

Finally, the majority of the lesson passed and there was about twenty minutes left for a match.

“Alrighty, guys, gather up here.” They all came over. “We’re going to play now. Liam, Sophie, Joseph, Dylan and Madison, you are team number one. Will, Aiden, Nandor, Guillermo and Val, you are team two. Now, remember, this is just a practise game. Don’t get too competitive. Focus on your techniques.” People nodded and mumbled in affirmation. “Good. Let’s put you in your places.”

Once you’ve briefly ran through the main positions for the newbies, you let them play, to see how they do. Surprisingly, that Nandor guy was actually good. Very good even. You could tell he actually practiced basketball before. Guillermo was also doing unexpectedly well. Although, you realised your mistake of putting the only two good players on the same team. Obviously, team number two absolutely crushed the other one, but thankfully, nobody was really upset about it. You were happy that people accepted both newbies so quickly. They complemented each other’s games and you concluded the lesson.

Finally, working hours are over! You were already heading for the changing room, when someone tapped your shoulder. You turned to discover it was in fact Nandor.

“Hello?” You smiled.

“Greetings, [reader]. I would like to play a game with you one on one.”

Not this shit again. “Oh, I’m sorry, I really have to get home. I’m babysitting my niece this evening and-.”

“Okay, let’s try another way.” He looked right into your eyes. “You will submit to my dark power… and play basketball with me.”

“I-… Okay… Yeah, okay. Sure. Let’s do it.” For some reason you changed your mind rather quickly and returned to the court, taking a ball out of the bin on the way.

You stood on one side of the mid-court line and he stood on the other, both of you getting heated with sheer competitiveness. And so, it was on. You were stepping on each other’s heels. He scored, then you did and it was always a tie. That is, until you saw through his tactics and started to score way more, which definitely infuriated Nandor and he started to play even harder. Suddenly, a voice broke out:

“Master! There you are! We really have to go now.” Guillermo came to the court and both stopped playing for a second.

“Guillermo, I will leave, when I find that it is time to leave.” Nandor protested.

“But you have the council duties remember? It’s an important hearing today.”

“You’re on the city council?” You looked at Nandor, because to you he seemed like the last person to be a part of it.

“No, I’m on the vampi- I mean, yes. Yes, city council. My favourite.” He nodded.

“Master, Nadja will execute us, if we don’t show up on time…” Guillermo mumbled.

“I’m not scared of her!… Fine, we will leave now.” He turned to look at you. “But it’s not the end, [reader]. You will suffer defeat. Next week.”

Both men left, bickering quietly with each other.

It was true though, Nandor started to challenge you after every practice.

#what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits fanfic #wwdits x reader #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #fanfic #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless #Nandor the relentless x reader #Nandor #x reader

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dawnbreakersgaze · 4 months ago

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Dawnbreaker Discourse 🌄

Over the last couple days I've been tagged in a number of posts regarding the theory that Greyson's story No Morning holds proof that Zayne's Snowy Serenity card is actually Dawnbreaker Zayne who managed to make it to the present timeline.

Below the cut, I'll discuss why I don't believe this is the case, along with references to the in game content that supports my theory. That said, please note that I fully support the folks who want to believe this theory, because at the end of the day my man deserves to have everyone in his corner.

Let's dig in shall we?

For starters, I'm not going to rehash the entire breakdown of where all this commentary started, but will try to sum it up quickly instead.

『The CN players have linked the appearance of the white flowers and the black crystal ice in the WU story No Morning to Dawnbreaker.』

All of these theories are interesting and have a lot of fun ideas, but all of them are missing what I think is the key element here.

I believe the constant reference to the black crystal ice as Dawnbreaker's Evol is being misconstrued for what the game is setting up to be a major plot device/point in later parts of the story.

In No Morning we see Greyson observe the black crystals here-

Earlier in this same story it's specified that this plant comes from a very specific place on Mt Eternal, a place where we've seen another massively impactful scene involving something identical in another anecdote- Never ending Winter:

We also see them referenced again in the World Undernead stories Longly Flame, and Snowy Stairs-

I believe there are other references to the black crystals I am surely missing, but these are the ones I remembered right off the top of my head.

I ALSO realize that in Greyson's POV it very specifically calls them "black ICE crystals" while every other reference says "Black crystals" but I fully believe that's either a translation error, or just a solid case for unreliable narrator. As much as I adore Grey, he can be a bit of a dork, so I can accept the mishap there. That being said, I really do believe with all my heart it is simply a translation difference rather than a deliberate misdirection.

And while Dawnbreaker's ice is indeed a black ice, I do not believe that it will ever be used in a significant storytelling capacity (as in I dont think it will be used to subtly hint at his presence) due to the very heavy-handed usage of these black crystals PG has been feeding us since the very beginning. Never Ending Winter was one of the OG anecdotes, so these black crystals have been set up from launch as a very important reference to either a type of protocore sickness, a metaflux disease, or some other deepspace linked disorder we've yet to understand.

That said, I'll admit I've definitely been calling Zayne's Snowy Serenity card the DawnFaker card because I'll agree- it has some H E A V Y DB undertones and they didn't do him any favors by putting him in a Dawnbreaker cosplay but with a beige sweater. I'm gonna continue to call it the DawnFaker card, but know that it's said in jest and with affection, and that I don't actually believe that card was Dawnbreaker (as much as I wish it was!)

I hope my little bit of imput was helpful or even slightly insightful! Please feel free to discuss or link me any refuting information. I'm always down to say "oops I was wrong~" when it comes to the lore of this game. Because let's be real, it's a mess lol.

#lore and theories #kay's thoughts #lnds #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love & deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lnds zayne #lnds greyson #lnds dawnbreaker #dawnbreaker 🌄#my icy neurospicy

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timesthatneverwere · 3 months ago

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WIP Whenever!

Tagged by @flamemittens and @judithmactir! Thank you so much for the tag, and apologies for the usual delay!

This is an excerpt from the chapter I'm working on for An Imperial Affair, my most beloved WIP (and the only one I'm working on at the moment). It's still a draft though, so it might change overtime... It might never see the light of day even xD

“A rabid dog may have its uses, but nobody wants its company. Not even the Emperor wants you around, staining his image, poisoning everything you touch. First, he sent you away, to pacify the Western Reaches. Then, he promoted you. Grand Moff of Oversector Outer,” he scoffs, “A very fancy title for a forced transfer away from the seat of the Empire. King of nowhere. You are not blind, Tarkin, you know that this is banishment in all but name. No matter the power you amass, you are and will always be a pariah.” Tarkin was wondering when the consequences of Antar Atrocity would come up; how he had to be hidden away like an outcast in the Outer Rim, lest the Core Worlds raise a ruckus. If he weren’t so exhausted, Tarkin would have had a good laugh at the expense of his fixation with that event and overall shortsightedness. Antar meant nothing, and its aftermath, less than nothing. Under the semblance of a move to keep face after such a ruthless operation, while everyone assumed that Tarkin was being cast aside, he was, in fact, conveniently relocated where he was most needed. “Is this supposed to be devastating? An eye-opening experience before you put me out of my misery?” As clumsy as this attempt at getting under his skin might be, his words contain a modicum of truth - exaggerated and twisted to accommodate his worldview, but truth nonetheless. Not that he minds. He cares only that he is feared. “No, I wouldn’t expect that. You will never change,” he replies, drawing his blade, but not approaching him just yet, “I have been following your exploits; how you have strengthened the Outer Rim Imperial Fleet, how you deal with the key economic players of this oversector as though they were your vassals, and the power-grabbing policies you have implemented. The Emperor lets you live out your little warlord fantasy, and you think that you are irreplaceable, that he has plans for you. But you would have never outlived your usefulness.” “Perhaps,” Tarkin says, unfazed. Let him try and bring forward the inevitable, then. Tarkin is not afraid of fate.

No pressure tags for: @squadron-of-damned @illusivesoul @unreadpoppy @sky-kiss @adevilyoudo

@amaranth-eternal

@tantive404

#thanks for the tag!#tag game #wilhuff tarkin

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elucienweekofficial · 5 months ago

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Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- Smut Day One

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

[Please check all tags before engaging!]

You Look Like Bad News by @the-lonelybarricade

I gotta have you, I gotta have you - Elain hated living next to Lucien Vanserra. Almost as much as she hated the girl he was fucking.

When You Move, I'm Moved by @ataraxiasflame

When Elain Archeron flees Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony for a moment alone after an emotional experience, her mate follows her out of concern for what he feels through their bond, resulting in an evening neither had planned, but both had been wanting for ages.

I've been lost to you, sunlight (flew like a moth to you, sunlight) by @whatishowedyouinthedark

In all of her dreams, there is sunlight. That is the one constant in every single one Elain remembers after waking. And if there is no sunlight, she can still feel it beating against her skin in time with the heartbeat that has become a steady, comforting song in her mind. Sometimes it feels as if, when she dreams, she has woken from the sadness that is her reality into what should be her life.

or, the elucien breeding kink one :)

What We Wanted by @valamerys

Lucien’s first Fire Night as High Lord of the Spring Court puts he and Elain’s fledgling relationship in an awkward position.

The Fires Of Eventide by @animezinglife

A quiet evening. A secluded cottage in Spring.

Beasts Inside Us by @crazy-ache

“If you so much as spill a drop of her blood, I will gladly show you just what kind of beast I am. And you will find, once I’ve ripped your throat out with my bare hands, and burnt this manor and everyone inside to ash and bone, that I am something far, far worse than just a beast.”

While staying in the mortal lands with the Band of Exiles, Elain Archeron stumbles across a familiar face from her past. Only Graysen wants revenge. Her only hope is that her mate, Lucien Vanserra, can save her—in more ways than one.

About Damn Time by @strawbrerian-writes

Elain planned to have a quiet, cool day off. The universe took one look at her plans and said "bet."

They Say I Did Something Bad by @separatist-apologist

Then why's it feel so good?

Elain Archeron's fiance is a total stranger to her, though his family's reputation for cruelty and avarice is not. Dreading a lifetime with a cruel, cold man, Elain decides to have one last night of freedom. Attending an infamous masquerade ball, Elain meets a stranger who offers to show her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. It's just one night of debauchery. What could possibly go wrong?

Oh, Lord Save Me by @separatist-apologist

“How come I never see you at confession?” he pressed. Elain almost screamed.

Lucien never saw her at confession because the phrase "forgive me father, for I have sinned," was the start of every filthy fantasy she’d ever had about him.

I'm Going Out Tonight by @separatist-apologist

He rolled his neck and Elain paused, drinking him in. Even with his red hair plastered to his face, sweat soaking through his thin band t-shirt, Lucien Vanserra was the hottest man she’d ever seen.

And bass players were so her type.

“What did you say?”

He grinned, resting a broad hand over his muscular chest. “I asked if you had a man.”

Her mind flashed an image of Graysen. Too busy with work and the woman he was sleeping with on the side. She was there to pretend she didn’t know about that, wasn’t she? Did Graysen ever answer that question honestly, besides?

Holding up her drink, Elain ran her tongue suggestively over the straw. Lucien’s smile sharpened, those russet eyes darkening with obvious want.

“I don’t remember.”

Sharp as Glass and Twice as Bright by @valamerys

When he speaks again, it’s a low rumble in his chest. “If you keep doing that, dove, neither of us is going to get any sleep.”

Heat coils in Elain’s stomach. “I’m not tired.”

[Elucien + classic THERE IS ONLY ONE BED WHAT DO.] [yes i just did one for each of my ships dont look at me im a monster]

End Game by @separatist-apologist

Lucien Vanserra has been in love with Elain Archeron for as long as he's known her. With time ticking down before her inevitable engagement to Graysen, Lucien only has one goal: convince her to be his

But Only If You Dare by @kingofsummer93

It all started innocently enough. A silly game, a drunken dare.

Except now Elain can't sleep.

And it's all because of him.

I'm Damned If I Do by @separatist-apologist

“Get it off your chest,” he told her dismissively, returning to his work.

Let her scream and yell. It would change nothing given Rhysand and Feyre were doing this purposefully to push them together. Had Elain guessed that, too? Had she decided he was the safer person to vent her rage into?

She strode into his office and, like a petulant brat, swept everything off his desk. Lucien glared, irritated with the mess she’d made—she’d inadvertently shattered a rather nice crystal vase he’d gotten from Dawn, wrecking the little blue plant within in her recklessness.

“By all means, get it off my desk as well,” he told her dryly. Her chest heaved in the pretty silver dress she wore, pressing her breasts up against the neckline. Lucien had to look at his hands to stop looking at her body, though she was closer than she'd ever been

Our Hearts Still Beat The Same by @zenkindoflove

"She stood on the bridge for a few minutes, hoping that the rain might wash away the seething anger and bottomless anguish that crackled under her skin. More, more, more, repeated again and again to a steady beat. His heart beat."

Elucien, Two-shot, Post-ACOSF. Part One is Cozy Tension. Part Two is all smut.

Can read this fic independent of the series. They are separate stories but connected by song inspirations.

Both Forever and Rather Die by @foundress0fnothing

Elain runs a sex cult. She’s looking for something new. Lucien is new.

save the date by @thelovelymadone

Elain Archeron has had a perfect life.

Prettiest girl in her grade, first sibling to be engaged and living thousands of miles away from home. But then, her then fiancé cheats on her at their engagement party after she cajoled her entire family to come thousand of miles for her engagement.

Now, after four years, she’s going to be brave. She’s going to go to her eldest sister’s wedding as the maid of honor and bring … a paid actor to be her boyfriend.

Despite the lingering trauma of her ex-boyfriend posting her phone number on Internet forums and refusal to share how her childhood crush broke her confidence at her engagement party—what could possibly go wrong?

Call Me Selfish, Call Me Wrecked by @crazy-ache

Like countless times before, they’re dangling Elain in front of him without a mention of her name. And for once, Lucien decides to selfishly take it. “I’ll marry her,” he pretends to investigate his nails, even if his heart is about to burst from his chest. “But only if she agrees to it as well. That’s my only condition.”

Elain agrees. Lucien learns the consequences of not shutting up.

A Dance In Winter by @animezinglife

While visiting the Winter Court leading up to Solstice, Elain and Lucien find some time alone.

talk refined by @temperedink

Newly mated Elain has pretty much adjusted to being fae after all this time. What she’s still hung up on? Being able to express things in the bedroom. Luckily, Lucien is totally willing to let her try that out on him.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elucienweek2024 #elucien crossword

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