#or did the feature just finally reach me?

[fanfictiongirlie]

Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Three

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Mention of abortion, swearing. 

Chapter Words: 2,069

(I have the urge for every Marvel fanfic I write to have a seperate timeline where nothing bad happens, and everyone is happy)

A week later Bucky and I made our way to the Doctor's office, we had left the compound separately, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves, Bucky had met me in his car at the end of the incredibly long drive out of the compound. 

I hated the doctors, we sat in the waiting room, it was stuffy in here, full of people too, I hated it, but Bucky took my hand in his, holding it and doing that thing with his thumb, stroking the skin of my hand gently, it calmed me down. I could tell he felt nervous too, his knee was bouncing. 

"Hey...everything's gonna be alright doll" He whispers to me, there was a few looks from the others in the waiting room, they knew who we were, luckily people were scared of Bucky, and would never come up to him. 

"I hate the doctors" I whisper. 

"I know doll, I hate 'em too" He whispers back. 

Finally we were called in, I pulled Bucky's hand with me into the examination room, the Doctor I hadn't met before, but luckily she was a woman, I smiled faintly to her and she shook mine and Bucky's hand. I climbed onto the table and shut my eyes as the Doctor; Dr. Addams did her checks, once done she gave me a moment to dress. Once done, I sat nervously on the edge of the bed. 

"You're definitely pregnant" Dr. Addams spoke. "I'd say around 8 weeks" 

I didn't say much, but once Bucky and I could leave we did so, and got into his car. I stayed quiet on the drive home, not caring if anyone caught us getting out of the car together. Bucky followed me to my room, his hand never leaving mine as we did. Once in my room, and my door was shut I turned to him, tears falling down my cheeks again. 

"So...we're pregnant" I say, leaning against the closed door of my room. Bucky stood in front of me. 

"Yeah, doll...We're pregnant" 

"I still don't know what to do" I whisper. Bucky lets out a shaky breath, his hand moving to take mine in his again. He looks at me, his expression a mixture of concern and uncertainty. 

"Doll, I don't want to push you into anything, it's your choice in the end, but I just want you to know, that if you decide to keep it, I'm with you" He says, his voice so caring towards me. A few tears slipped from my eyes and onto my cheeks. 

"Thank you Bucky" I whisper, as I step forward into his arms. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Over the next week I spent a lot of time alone, thinking over my options. And I spent a lot of time crying, I had no idea what to do... At least I think I didn't. Only one option felt right, as scary as it sounded. I sighed and left my room, I walked through the compound until I found Bucky in the kitchen, along with Steve.. I sighed and walked over to the man. 

"Hey, can I talk to you?" I ask him, receiving an eyebrow raise from Steve, probably confused at the kindness in my voice. This was probably the kindest I had ever been to Bucky in front of someone. Bucky stopped his conversation with Steve and looked to me, his eyes narrowed slightly, he studies my features and stands. 

"Uh, yeah...sure" 

He follows me into the hallway, I walk a bit further, not wanting Steve to hear our conversation. Once alone, I stood and looked up at Bucky. 

"I've made a decision" I say quietly. I watch as his face changes into a inpatient expression, his body tensed, he reached forward taking my hand in his. 

"Okay...what decision did you make, doll?" He asks, his voice a bit hoarse as he responds. 

"I don't feel comfortable terminating...the baby...but I also don't like the idea of giving it away, so I want to keep it" I say confidently. I watch as Bucky's breath hitches in his throat, he said nothing for a few moments, stressing me out further. 

"You...you want to keep it? Raise it?"

"I think so...Only if you promise you'll be there for us" 

Bucky steps closer to me, his hands coming to rest on either side of my arms, holding me. "Doll, I promise you. I'll be there for you. For you and the baby, you won't do this along, I'm in it for the long haul, I'm never going anywhere" 

I smile softly as he rambles, his eyes full of excitement. 

"We should probably tell the team...wanna start with Steve first?" I ask, knowing telling the team was going to be...something else. Bucky nods eagerly, he takes my hand in his and pulls me back towards the kitchen. Steve looks at us, a quizzical look on his face as he sees us. He takes a sip of his coffee, which I look at longingly. 

"Oh fuck, I miss coffee" I say, off track. Bucky chuckles and nudges me slightly. 

"Right, yeah...Steve we have something to tell you" I say, Steve looks at the two of us, his eyes furrowed in confusion as he notices how closely we stood together. I watch as a hint of worry flashes in Steve's eyes, he puts his coffee down on the table, his attention completely on us. 

"Okay, what's up?" He asks. 

"Well it might be confusing, since Bucky and I are nothing but mean to one another.." I say, my words shaky as I talk. 

"Wait... don't tell me, you two...are actually getting along?" Steve asks. I chuckle nervously. 

"Not only do we get along...But I'm also pregnant" I say, my voice trembling. 

Steve's jaw nearly hits the floor, his eyes flicker between the two of us. 

"What? You're...you're pregnant? And..Bucky's...he's the father?" Steve asks. 

"Yep" I reply quietly. I watch as Steve's face goes through a range of emotions as he absorbs the information. Surprise, worry, happiness, and confusion all flicker across his features in a matter of seconds. He looks back and forth between me and Bucky several times before speaking again. 

"I...I don't know what to say...I had no idea you two were even able to have a conversation without insulting one another...let alone..having a child together" Steve says, his voice a little strong and stern. I shrink a little into myself, feeling a wave of emotions. 

"We...we've been sleeping together, for a little while" Bucky says, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

"This is a lot to take in" Steve says, he glances at Bucky, a myriad of questions in his eyes. 

"Yeah...I get that" I say, mumbling. I hear as Bucky sighs, he probably knows Steve is close to telling him off, understandable to be fair. 

"Bucky, I have to ask...how long has this been going on? And more importantly, when did you two start liking each other?" Steve asks, he reaches up to run a hand through his hair, usually his perfect tidy hair. 

"It happened a few months ago" I say first. I look to Bucky seeing a blush creep over his features. 

"Yeah...it was...unexpected" Bucky adds. 

"It was actually one of our arguments that started...this" I say smirking, fondly looking over at the kitchen counter. Bucky chuckles and nods, a small smile playing on his lips as he catches where I was staring. 

"Yeah..we got into a pretty heated argument one night...and somehow, things just escalated from there..." Bucky explained. 

"And now I'm pregnant" I say again, taking a deep breath "And I'm an Avenger...Oh fuck, I'm gonna have to stop Avengering" 

I whined as I spoke, it hadn't dawned on me yet. I frowned looking at Bucky. I watched Steve chuckle lightly. 

"Yeah...I hate to say it, but with the risk involved, it's not safe for you to continue any missions whilst pregnant" Steve explained. I groaned and glared at Bucky. Bucky winces slightly at my look, he takes a step closer to me, raising his hand to my arm. 

"Hey doll, it's not my fault! Steve's right, it's too dangerous" Bucky answers. 

"It is your fault! You put your penis in me" I argued back. I watched as both Steve and Bucky's cheeks flushed red at my blunt statement, Bucky's eyes widen as Steve chokes on his coffee. 

"I...yeah...I can't argue with that" Bucky chuckles nervously. 

"I should probably tell Tony" I say groaning. Bucky grimaces, he lets out a low sigh, unsure of what Tony's reaction would be. 

"Yeah...Stark's next on the list, he'll probably have a few questions" 

"Let's hope he's not mad for losing two Avengers" I say, knowing Bucky would stop missions when the baby was born. Bucky's expression softens a little, he puts his hand on my lower back and pulls me against him. 

"Hey...don't worry about Stark, he'll understand" Bucky reassures me. 

"Yeah..right I'll go find him" I say, moving away from Bucky, I could tell him and Steve probably needed a chat, I left the kitchen and walked through the compound knowing I'd probably find Tony in the lab, I walked in seeing him and Bruce, I smiled hopping onto one of the stools they had in the room. 

"Hi boys" I grin sweetly. They both glanced up from their tablets, smiling when they saw me. Tony walked to me, leaning on the desk in front of me. 

"Well, well, look who it is" Tony smirked "Long time no see, what brings you to the lab?" 

"I have something to tell you Tony...though Bruce you can know too" I say nervously. Tony raises an eyebrow, a look of intrigue on his face. 

"Okay, I'm all ears kiddo" 

I watch Bruce put his tools now, he walks to stand next to Tony, a worried look over his face, he could sense my nerves. 

"I'm pregnant" 

There's a beat of silence as Tony and Bruce process my words. Tony's eyes widen, his mouth falling open slightly. Bruce looked shocked as well, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Tony was the first to speak, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity. 

"You're...you're pregnant. As in...having a baby...pregnant?" He asks. I chuckle slightly. 

"Correct, that is what pregnant means" I answer, my sarcasm laced through my voice, the others would always tell me off for my British sarcasm, I couldn't help it however. I watched as Tony rolled his eyes, and Bruce scratched his chin. 

"When you say you're pregnant, how far along are you? And..do we know the father?" Bruce asked. 

"Uhh like 9 weeks" I say "And...yeah you... do know the father" 

Tony's eyebrows shoot to the sky. He glances to Bruce and then back to me. 

"I'm guessing it's not some random stranger...right? The father?" Tony asks. 

"No..it's uhh...it's Bucky" I admit. The look of shock over their faces made me chuckle slightly. I almost regret keeping what Bucky and I had a secret, I had a lot of shocked looks coming in my future. Both men looked at me in utter shock, like they couldn't believe me. 

"Wait..Bucky?! Bucky is the father? Barnes? That Barnes?!" Tony rambled. 

"The very one"

Tony and Bruce exchanged another glance, both still in disbelief. Tony was the first to find his voice again, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally speaks. 

"When...when did this happen? I thought you two couldn't stand each other" 

"We've been sleeping together, for a few months...secretly" I explain, my cheeks flushing red. 

"Months!" Tony near yells "You've been sleeping together for months? And now you're pregnant?" 

"Basically yes" I say, smiling. It still felt weird hearing the word pregnant. 

"I've gotta say, I was not expecting that, you really know how to shock us, don't ya?" Bruce chuckles. 

"Yeah...sorry about that" I say quietly. 

"Well congratulations" Bruce smiles at me, as he takes his glasses off, cleaning them. 

"Yeah congratulations, who woulda thought, you and Bucky, together, with a baby" Tony says, his voice still dripping with disbelief. 

"Yeah...thanks guys" I say smiling "Sorry about the whole not being an Avenger for a little while" I add with a sad smile, I loved going on missions. 

"Don't worry kiddo, you have to look after yourself first" Tony grins. 

I smile and hop off the stool, ready to go back to Bucky. 

"Thanks men" I say as I turn around to leave.

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @jaybbygrl @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @learisa @hi172826 @ravennablue @purplecolordeer

[frankensteinzmonstrrr]

The Benefits of Being a Marine Biologist (Part 2)

Part 1 Merman x transmasc reader Contains: getting to know your monster crush Warnings: discussion of top surgery & scars Length: 1.5K words

The next evening, you manage to leave the lab a bit early, mumbling excuses about not feeling well. You weren't exactly lying; the thought of seeing the merman again was giving you butterflies in your stomach. You had slept poorly last night, kept awake wondering if there was any way you could have imagined your encounter with the creature. It seemed impossible, but you knew it all really happened. You remembered the soft, cool touch of his hand against yours.

Grimacing at how slowly you are forced to drive down the sandy gravel road, you finally reach the trailhead. You practically leap out of your car, grabbing your tote bag containing swim trunks and a flashlight.

Once solidly within the privacy of the brush, you change out your lab-safety-approved chinos for your bathing suit as fast as you can, your need to rush of course making you fumble more than usual. You all but run down the rest of the path.

As soon as you emerge from the grass and your feet hit the soft sand of the beach, you see a shape pop up from the water by the rocks. As you begin to walk to the opposite side of the shoreline, your hopes are confirmed: it's Abalone. He waves to you awkwardly, clearly imitating an observed human gesture.

As you walk toward him, you try to quickly study his appearance. Yesterday you were too shocked to observe the finer details of what he looks like. His silvery skin transitions to darker gray shades towards his hands and on his tail, clearly some kind of point coloring. Despite being aquatic, he somehow has what looks like long, dark hair. You wonder if his "hair" is actually spines of some kind. His face is shockingly human, his features just a bit sharper and with somewhat large eyes. Your eyes wander down and you see that he has very humanoid pectoral and abdominal muscles, too. Realizing that you've been staring at him for at least a full minute, you drop your gaze to your feet as you approach the water's edge.

"I brought clothes to swim!" you call to him. You don't feel the need to fully shout, because he clearly had heard you coming from the trail. "I hope it's not too cold!"

You toss your bag and your t-shirt behind you onto the dry sand. As you step into the water the chill bites at your feet, but it's a tolerable cold. You wade out along the edge of the rocks until the water reaches almost to your shoulders. Seeming to realize that any further out would be an uncomfortable depth for a human, Abalone closes the remaining gap between the two of you, swimming gracefully just below the water's surface. You observe that his tail moves from side to side like a fish, not up and down like a whale or dolphin. Fascinating.

Abalone smiles at you as he surfaces and adjusts himself to be upright in the shallower water. You simply look at each other for a moment, both unsure what to say. He breaks the silence with his odd laugh. "You are so short!"

Instinctively you cross your arms and reply, "No I am not! I'm average height. For a human," you add. "I could say that you're so tall... Or long?"

"Fair enough." You can't help but wonder if he learned that phrase from you. "What do you do during the daytime?"

"I go and work as a scientist." You struggle to think of a simple enough explanation for someone who doesn't know what a computer is. "I record all sorts of things about animals and plants from the ocean."

"Very nice. Sounds very nice," he replied thoughtfully. "During the day sometimes I sleep, sometimes I hunt. Not much to do."

"What do you hunt?"'

"All the fish," he grinned. With those sharp teeth, it only makes sense that he's a carnivore. "The bigger the fish, the better to eat. Once I caught a shark almost as big as me. Have you ever eaten shark?"

Abalone seemed to have as many questions for you as you did for him. "No, I haven't. Humans don't really eat shark. Except for in soup, but I'm honestly not sure if that's real."

"Shark soup," he repeated. "Soup isn't real."

"No!" you laugh. "Soup is a real food. It's like cooking things in water."

"What ever," he said, clearly enunciating the two words as separate. That only makes you giggle more.

You look down into the water and notice how Abalone's tail is crammed underneath himself in the shallow depth. "Here, let me go up on the rocks and sit somewhere where you can sit normally too." He doesn't say anything in response, just bobbing along happily in the water as you climb up onto the stone pile and move further out into the water.

When you take a seat on the least offensive boulder, Abalone joins you on the rock's edge. Suddenly, he points to you and says, "You're like me."

"What?"

"You're like me," he says again, pointing to your chest and then to his.

Oh. He sees your top surgery scars, faded but still visible, and is pointing to faint striping on his own torso. "N-no," you stammer. "Those are my scars. I don't have stripes like you."

"Ah. Scars from what?"

"I don't know if you'll understand. They're from surgery... something that had to be done for medicine? For healing?"

"I see." Dropping the subject, he silently moved a bit closer to you and rested his chin on the rock next to where you sat. "You have very small claws."

"I don't need them as much as you probably do." You involuntarily imagine his dark talons ripping through the flesh of his prey.

Abalone reached for your hand and gently pulled at it. You let him lift it towards him. You hadn't noticed before that his fingers are webbed. Makes sense.

He held up his hand flat against yours, and you mirrored his movement. He pressed his palm against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. He gazed in wonder at your hand and wrist, no doubt thinking about what a tiny human you are.

You stared right back at his hand, and arm, and body. His hand is definitely larger than yours, but not by much. He seemed to have the proportions of a very tall man, with a several yards long tail instead of legs. Without thinking, you take your hand from his and reach forward to touch his hair. The fibers are coarser than human hair, as you expected. Your thoughts of what it could be composed of if not keratin are interrupted when you realized that he is leaning in to your touch.

You yank your hand back automatically and begin to apologize, but Abalone grabs your hand and pulls you forward into the water. The cold shocks you, but you still notice that his hand is warm in the icy ocean.

Holding onto you with one arm as if he's not fully convinced you can swim, he turns and points at the sky. "The sun is almost down. Don't stay late."

He was right. Only the last slivers of the orange sun remained above the horizon. "Thank you. You're right, I should leave now."

Still holding your hand, he began to swim towards the shore. You laugh and tell him you can swim, insisting that the doesn't need to drag you along, but he doesn't listen. You can't see into the water very well in the increasing dimness, but you think you see the glint of his mischievous smile.

He releases your hand once your feet touch the sandy floor. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

You open your mouth to tell him yes, but your heart drops when you remember that you have to stay at the lab late for a meeting the next night. "I'm sorry, I can't. I have to work."

Abalone frowns at that, his playful demeanor vanishing. "When can you come back?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe in two days?... I wish there was some way I could tell you when I can come here."

"It's alright," he said, quieter than usual, but then a small smile creeped back onto his face. "I can wait for you here! At sunset!"

"Every day?" you laugh incredulously. "You can't wait for me every single day."

"Yes I can. I did it today and it was easy."

You shake your head in bewilderment. "Okay, if you say so."

"Okay!" he repeated. He reached out toward you and gently pushed you toward the shore. "You need to go home. It's almost dark."

You sigh and start trudging through the gentle waves, twisting around so you're still facing him. "I'll see you soon. I promise."

When you reach the shore and gather your things, he waves goodbye to you in the same stiff, odd way. You smile ear to ear as you wave back.

The walk back to your car is freezing cold, with only the beam of your flashlight illuminating the path, but you couldn't be happier. You had left work claiming illness, but now you feel even stranger than you did before.

Author's notes: thank you so much for reading, and for all the support on the first part! Part 3 will be coming soon. Tip Jar on Ko-Fi

[officerfriendlysblogs]

Hidden Chords

Harry Styles x Reader

Summary: The story follows a long-time friendship between Harry Styles and the reader, who meet during Harry's One Direction days. As they both rise to fame, their bond remains strong despite busy schedules. Over the years, the reader secretly falls in love with Harry but keeps her feelings hidden, especially when he starts dating someone else.Heartbroken, she channels her emotions into a song, which becomes a hit. Harry later confronts her about the song, revealing that he has loved her all along.After years of missed chances, they finally confess their feelings and start a relationship, proving that their love was worth the wait.

Warnings:⚠️This story features elements of mildangst, minor jealousy, and heartbreak, yet it is also infused with excessively sweet moments, culminating in a joyful conclusion.⚠️

Word count: 1,184

You met Harry Styles when you were just two teenagers chasing dreams. He had his wild curls and charming grin, and you had a notebook filled with half-finished songs. It was 2010, and One Direction was on the rise. You were signed to a small record label, opening for big acts and waiting for your moment.

It was a chance meeting at a shared soundcheck that changed everything. He walked in with his bandmates, a gaggle of exuberant energy, and you were busy trying to fix a broken guitar string.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his green eyes twinkling.

“Do you know how to restring a guitar?” you shot back, skeptical but amused.

“Not a clue,” he said with a laugh, “but I could fetch someone who does.”

You smiled at that. And just like that, Harry Styles became your friend.

The years that followed were a whirlwind. You watched One Direction skyrocket to unimaginable heights while your own career slowly took off. Harry never let fame change him, though. He still texted you terrible jokes, shared Spotify playlists, and called late at night when he needed to vent about the pressures of being in the world’s biggest boyband.

“I don’t know how you handle it,” you told him once, lying on the floor of your London flat, phone pressed to your ear.

“Sometimes I don’t,” he admitted. “But then I think of people like you. Grounded, real. It keeps me sane.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything.

When the band announced their hiatus in 2015, Harry confided in you first.

“I think this is it,” he said, voice low and uncertain. “I think we’re done.”

You wanted to comfort him, to say the right thing, but all you managed was, “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” he said after a pause. “I think I’m ready to do my own thing.”

And he did. You watched him transform from boyband heartthrob to a solo artist who commanded the world’s attention. You couldn’t have been prouder, but with every milestone he reached, you felt the distance between you growing.

You stayed close, though. Somehow. Amid tours and albums and award shows, Harry always made time for you. But somewhere along the way, your feelings shifted.

It wasn’t just friendship anymore.

It hit you one night in New York. You were both there for different reasons—he was recording his debut album, and you were promoting your second. He invited you to his studio, where he played you a rough cut of “Sign of the Times.”

The song was beautiful, haunting. And so was he, sitting there with his guitar, eyes closed as he sang.

When he finished, you clapped, a little too enthusiastically to hide the way your heart was racing.

“It’s incredible,” you said.

“Thanks,” he said, looking almost shy. “Means a lot coming from you.”

You wanted to tell him everything in that moment, but fear held you back. He was Harry Styles. Your best friend. What if you ruined it?

Then came Camille.

She was stunning, of course—French, sophisticated, effortlessly cool. You found out through a tabloid, and your heart sank.

When you saw Harry next, you tried to act normal. He brought her to a party you were both attending, introducing her with a proud smile.

“This is Camille,” he said, arm draped around her shoulder.

“Hi,” you said, forcing a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

She was kind, polite, everything you knew Harry deserved. And that made it worse.

The first time you cried over Harry was after that party. You went home, locked yourself in your room, and let the tears fall.

You hated yourself for it. For being jealous. For wanting something you could never have.

So, you did the only thing you knew how to do. You wrote.

The song poured out of you in a way nothing ever had before. It was raw, painful, and honest—a confession you couldn’t give him in words.

The chorus was a plea: “How do I compete with the stars in your sky, when I’m just the shadow in your light?”

When your producer heard it, he insisted it go on your next album. You hesitated, terrified of what Harry would think, but eventually agreed.

The album came out, and the song—aptly titled “Shadow”—became a hit. Fans speculated endlessly about who it was about, but you never confirmed anything.

Harry called you after hearing it.

“‘Shadow,’” he said. “It’s beautiful. Heartbreaking, but beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice tight.

“You okay?” he asked, sensing something in your tone.

“Yeah,” you lied.

Months passed. Harry and Camille broke up, but you didn’t let yourself hope. Instead, you threw yourself into work, trying to forget the way his smile made you feel, the way his voice lingered in your mind.

It wasn’t until a late night in Los Angeles that everything came to a head.

You were there for a show, and Harry was in town for a film premiere. He invited you to dinner, just the two of you, like old times.

Over glasses of wine, you talked about everything and nothing, laughing until your sides hurt.

Then, out of nowhere, he brought up “Shadow.”

“Was it about someone specific?” he asked, his tone careful.

You froze, the truth threatening to spill out.

“Why do you ask?” you countered, stalling.

“Because…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Because I feel like I know who it’s about.”

Your heart stopped. “Harry—”

“Is it me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked away, the weight of his gaze too much to bear.

“I…” You swallowed hard. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” he said.

When you finally met his eyes, you saw something there—something that looked a lot like hope.

“I wrote it because I didn’t know how else to deal,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Harry reached across the table, his hand brushing yours.

“You could never ruin it,” he said softly. “But you should’ve told me.”

“Why?” you asked, tears brimming in your eyes. “So you could tell me you don’t feel the same?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “So I could tell you I do.”

The world seemed to stop in that moment.

“You… what?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he confessed. “But I didn’t think you felt the same. And then Camille happened, and I thought maybe I’d missed my chance.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks, a mix of relief and disbelief.

“Harry…”

He stood, pulling you into his arms. You melted against him, all the unspoken words finally finding their place.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. “We’re here now.”

And as he pressed his lips to yours, everything else faded away.

From that moment on, your relationship changed. It wasn’t easy—balancing two demanding careers never is—but you made it work.

Because love, you realized, was worth the wait.

[inawickedlittletown]

Who Could Ask You Be Unbroken Or Be Brave Again - BuckTommy (one-shot)

Summary: When Buck figures out that he's pregnant just a few weeks after the break-up, he has to tell Tommy. They talk. Words: 3.1k Notes: Sooooo I actually started writing this last week and I pictured a different fic entirely and yet I like to go where the journey takes me so here we are. Mpreg is a feature, but not like the most important part of this fic, though I know the fandom has taken it and run with it. The title comes from Hozier's To Noise Making Read on Ao3

-

If it weren’t for Maddie, Buck probably wouldn’t have figured it out. Well, he would have eventually. Probably. 

When he was on the cusp of teenagehood, the nurse at school had come in to have a talk with his class. The boys and the girls were separated and Buck remembered watching a badly shot movie. She had passed out a paper to take home at the end, information for their parents. Buck didn’t remember if his parents had even bothered to read it, much less take the advice. As a consequence, when all the rest of the boys in his class got tested, Buck didn’t. Later on, it just didn’t matter because Buck wasn’t having sex with guys so what difference did it make if he was a carrier? Then, when he got together with Tommy, it hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

So, he never knew that he could get pregnant. 

Not until he was pregnant. 

Not until he was leaning over his toilet, knees on the hard floor, stomach empty. Not until he remembered Maddie and the brie he’d baked for her and how when he’d cut a piece of the banana bread earlier the smell of the bananas had made him feel sick. 

Not until he managed to make it out of the apartment and to the nearest pharmacy where he stared at the pregnancy tests until finally just grabbing four at random. He was glad the girl at the checkout didn’t say anything. 

They all came back positive. 

There was no denying it.

In the bathroom, he took off his t-shirt and looked down at his abdomen. There was nothing different about his body, but eventually it would change. He would round out, growing a life in the womb that Buck hadn’t even known he had. Tentatively, he touched his stomach. In that moment he realized that he hadn’t even thought about it before already knowing that he was doing it. He would have the baby. He was going to be a dad. 

Tommy had left him — had left them. 

He was the other dad. 

Buck had to throw up.

Pregnant. He was pregnant. He was housing life, a life created out of him and Tommy…Tommy was gone. He had walked out of Buck’s life without a look back and Buck was once again the one that was left behind except that this time it wasn’t only him. His hand drifted to his abdomen. There was a baby in there. 

That was when the tears began anew. 

What the hell was he going to do?

Buck had cried for the better part of an hour after Tommy left. Then, he cried on Eddie’s couch and couldn’t even get the words out for why. 

“He dumped me,” he’d said eventually. “Tommy dumped me.” 

Then, the tears had started again. 

He cried when he got home the next morning and immediately he had to talk himself out of calling Tommy. 

Eddie had told him to stay busy and keep his mind off of it. To not reach out to Tommy. 

So, he focused on making himself dinner that night and after the lasagna was in the oven, he decided he may as well go out and eat all his feelings. Not to mention that he really wanted brownies. 

So, he found an outlet. Baking was better than crying. It was better than having to hide his phone from himself so that by the time he found it he’d be over the urge to call or text. 

Buck had almost convinced himself that he could keep going and that he wouldn’t cry over Tommy again, but he was crying again. Over Tommy. Over the break up. Over the tiny life that should have brought so much joy to both of them. Not that Buck wasn’t happy…not that the idea of being a dad didn’t excite him. It was just the timing and the circumstances. Tommy wasn’t there with him and Buck…

He needed to tell him. 

Tommy needed to know. 

Or maybe…maybe Buck could do it on his own. He could love this baby more than enough. Tommy had already made his choice on Buck, why would he come back just because Buck was pregnant. Buck wasn’t enough for him, the future that Buck wanted and that Buck had dangled in front of himself had been shot down without his say and this was not going to change anything, not if Tommy had thought their six months together was some fun and nothing further than that. 

A baby was…it was a big commitment. Eighteen years at least and it wasn’t about Buck, but the idea that Tommy might not react well to the news…

But, no, that was unfair. Tommy would at least feel the obligation to his child even if it was detached, even if it was just monetary. He would do right by the baby even if they weren’t together anymore. That…that hurt. It was like a stab right to the chest. This was not the way it was supposed to be. 

He sobbed, wiped at his eyes but the tears kept coming. Maybe he didn’t tell him. Maybe he didn’t find out how Tommy would react and…

But no. 

If it was the other way around and Tommy found out he was pregnant and didn’t tell Buck, Buck would never forgive him. He had to tell him. 

Wiping at the last of his tears, Buck went to the kitchen to grab water. 

Four positive tests. He needed to get a doctor’s appointment to confirm and then prenatal vitamins? What else? Was his apartment even an okay place in which to raise a baby? With the stairs and the balcony and how his bedroom wasn’t even really a room. And then there was his job. How long could he keep working before it was too dangerous? Was it already dangerous? 

Buck thought about calling Maddie. She was pregnant herself and she could help but the thought of telling her and not Tommy. Of telling anyone but Tommy…

He had to tell him. Buck reached for his phone. 

He couldn’t tell him over the phone and the thought of Tommy not picking up his call or leaving him on read or…what if he’d blocked Buck’s number? But no…Tommy wouldn’t do that. 

It was a Tuesday and Tommy didn’t usually work on Tuesdays. Unless he’d changed things…unless he’d been called into a fire. It didn’t mean he’d be at home, but it couldn’t hurt to try. 

So, he got shoes on, stuffed his phone and wallet in his pocket and grabbed his keys. Grabbed a few loaves out of his fridge for good measure. The remaining brownie pan too. 

Buck almost talked himself out of it on the drive over, but then he was pulling into Tommy’s driveway behind his truck. He waited a few more minutes before he got out of the car and started walking to the door. He raised his hand and knocked. 

Tommy had given him a key. It was still sitting next to the keys to his apartment. If this went badly, he supposed that he could give the key back. It would really be over, not that it hadn’t before. It was just that a part of Buck had hoped that if given enough time they might find each other again. It was silly and maybe it spoke to how many romcoms he and Tommy had watched together. Now…now he was pregnant and it changed everything. 

He knocked again. 

Heard movement from inside and then the door opened. 

Tommy looked like he hadn’t slept in days. 

“Buck,” he said. 

Buck decided to ignore that. “We need to talk,” he said. 

“I — yeah, sure.” 

Tommy stepped aside and Buck followed him in. 

“Do you…do you want a drink?” Tommy asked. 

The awkward energy between them killed him. It had never been like this between them before…okay, maybe after Buck messed up their first date, but even then it hadn’t been this. Buck shook his head. 

“What is all that?” 

“Oh. I, uh, I started baking and…anyway, these are for you.” 

Tommy took them and walked them into the kitchen. Buck followed. Nothing had changed since he’d been there last and the thought it might have and that Tommy could have moved on or something. Three weeks…it had really only been three weeks long as that felt. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Tommy asked, not even looking at Buck. 

How did he say it? Did he just blurt it out? On the drive over nothing had come to mind and Buck had never not known how to just say things except this time it was…it was so much harder. 

“Ev—Buck?” 

“I — I’m…I have some news.” 

“News?” 

The words got caught in his throat.

“Buck, is everything alright?” 

“I’m going to…pregnant. Maddie’s pregnant.” 

“Oh.” Tommy said with a confused chuckle. “You’re becoming an uncle again.” 

And a dad. 

Buck gulped. “Yeah. I am.” 

Tommy still looked confused. 

“I found out by accident. They don’t want anyone to know, but I had to tell someone. Don’t say anything.”

“Is that all?” Tommy asked, cautiously. 

Buck wanted to shake his head and to tell him it wasn’t only Maddie. It was Buck too. 

“We never talked about kids,” he found himself saying instead. “Among other things, but I never asked if you wanted kids. Do you?” 

It felt pointed. It felt like Buck was giving himself away. Tommy seemed a little confused. 

“Uh…I don’t know,” he settled on. “Never thought I would have any, but it’s not like I don’t like children. I guess I never really thought it was a real option or a deal breaker. Why are we talking about kids?”

“I’m…I don’t know. Just a thought,” Buck said. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”

“You want family,” Tommy said. “You'll get another niece or nephew soon.”

“Yeah,” Buck breathed and it took everything in him not to touch his stomach. Not just a niece or nephew, a son or daughter. Tommy’s too. 

“Did you…was there anything else?” Tommy asked. 

“I — that is—”

“Evan?” Tommy said. “You’re…are you alright?” 

He took a breath. “It doesn’t have to change anything,” he said. “I know you don’t want it to. You made that pretty clear. This isn’t like me trapping you or anything. I’m not. I just know that if it were the other way around I’d want to know and I’d want you to tell me. And no one else knows because you should be the first to know even though you kinda broke my heart there and that’s not going away. You know my fridge is full of loaves. I needed an outlet and so I started baking and I can’t seem to stop. I’m—”

“Evan, take a breath,” Tommy said. 

Buck did. He took several and when he looked at Tommy again, he found concern in his gaze. 

“What’s going on?” 

“I’m…well, as it turns out, I’m—” he couldn’t get the words out. 

“Are you sick? What’s happening? Evan, are you alright?” 

Tommy’s hand reached out to him, but fell short and drew back. 

“I’m not sick,” Buck said. “That’s not…I mean, that’s not what I would call this. I’m…Tommy, I’m pregnant.” 

Once the words were out, he felt lighter. His hand had drifted back down over his abdomen. Still flat, but for how long? When would he start showing? Hell, Buck didn’t even know how far along he was or anything else. 

Tommy was staring at his hand and then his eyes flickered back to Buck’s face. 

“Pregnant,” Tommy said. 

Buck nodded. 

“You’re a carrier. You never said.” 

“Yeah…I didn’t know until…until now.”

Tommy inhaled a breath and Buck could see that his mind was spinning, that he maybe didn’t even know what to say or think and Buck…Buck needed to leave. He’d told him, it was what he’d come to do and that was it. 

“I just wanted you to know. No obligation. No expectations. Just…that’s what’s happening. I’m pregnant and I’m going to keep it.” 

Tommy didn’t say anything. 

“I guess now you know. I’ll…I’ll go. See you around, Tommy.” 

Buck made it to the door. He was turning the doorknob and trying to pretend that his eyes weren’t filling up with tears when he heard a gentle:

“Wait.” 

And then Tommy’s hand was on his wrist and Buck turned. 

Tommy’s hand left his wrist but then he was cradling Buck’s face, thumbs wiping away his tears. 

“I was scared,” Tommy said. 

“Scared? You? But that’s, what is there for you to be scared of? I’m the pregnant one.”  

Tommy’s hands dropped from his face. “That,” he said. “You think I can’t be scared in this?” He motioned between them. “That it didn’t freak me out the moment you asked me to move in with you in the same sentence that you said you liked me for my confidence without even—”

Buck watched him. Watched the way that his shoulders were hunched and how he gulped. 

“You don’t see me, Evan, and if you don’t see me…the real me and not whoever you’ve made me out to be then this was never going to work. The moment I realized it wasn’t…that it wasn’t. I did this for you and for me. And now—” Tommy’s gaze met Buck’s dead on, “now you’re pregnant.” 

“I don’t see you?” Buck asked. 

He stepped away from the door. He laughed and turned away from Tommy before he looked back at him. 

“I see what you’ve let me see,” Buck said. “I see who you presented yourself to be and if you’re telling me now that you were lying about who you are then…then that’s—”

“It’s not what I’m saying,” Tommy broke in. “I’m saying you put me on some…on some pedestal that I don’t belong on. I’ve hurt people. Abby. Hen. Chim. Hid my sexuality to my own detriment and the detriment of others. I lied and lied and lied and…and it’s—”

Buck reached for him, grabbed his hand and made Tommy look at him. “You did it because you were protecting yourself from a world that wasn’t going to accept you. What I admire is how far you’ve come. What I admire is that you lived through it got to this side of it and can choose to be happy. Except that you don’t think you deserve it. I see you, Tommy.”

“Evan,” Tommy said. 

Buck grasped Tommy’s other hand. 

“Did you know I hate the way you leave your clothes in piles instead of putting them in your hamper, the way that you always forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste. You never close a cabinet. Some of your jokes are not funny and it shouldn’t have taken six months for you to tell me about Abby. I guess I’m to blame for that too because I didn’t tell you about her either. I hate how you never talked about Gerrard with me, not really. I hate the way you always take Eddie’s side and that the two of you always make fun of me. The first sign of trouble and you run. You’re not perfect, Thomas. But you know what, I love you anyway.”

The silence that fell between them lasted a few beats. They couldn’t look away from each other and there were tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes. 

“You scare me,” Tommy said, voice rough. “And I’ve been kicking myself since that night but I didn’t know…I couldn’t call or text because I walked away and I thought it was for the best. I’m broken, Evan, and if you ever saw that and didn’t — didn’t—” Tommy’s voice broke. 

“I love you,” Buck said. “And you’re not broken, because if you are then I am too.” 

Tommy actually let out a sob and his face crumpled. Buck had never seen him like that. He’d seen him worried and smiling and confused. He’d seen the way that his lips turned down that night when they broke up, but he’d never seen this. The way that the wrinkles around his eyes were deepened and his mouth was so turned down and how red it made his skin. 

Buck reached for him, pulled Tommy’s face down to his neck. He rubbed at his back and then ran a hand through his hair and Tommy sobbed and wet his shoulder with his tears and Buck held him and cried his own tears. It felt amazing to actually have Tommy in his arms, though the rest of it…the tears and the sobs was new. 

There was no knowing how long they stood there, until Tommy pulled back, wiping at his face with one hand. He didn’t go far, though Buck could tell that maybe he wanted to. When he finally looked at Buck, he looked a little more put together. 

“You’re pregnant,” he said. 

Tommy’s hand fell to Buck’s abdomen. There was nothing to feel there yet. They both knew that, but Buck put his hand over Tommy’s. 

“I am,” Buck said. “It doesn’t have to change anything.” 

Tommy let out a strangled laugh. “It’s going to change some things. Evan, you’re going to be the best dad.” 

“So are you,” Buck said and inhaled. “Right? I mean, you don’t have to be if you don’t—”

“I want to be,” Tommy said. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, it’s not like I had a great example. What I do know is that I am so in love with you and there is no way I’m letting you do this on your own. No way that I am walking away from you or this baby.”

Buck kissed him and Tommy responded at once, hungrily and like he was hoping to impart upon Buck every bit of his love through that kiss. 

They probably had a lot more to talk about. So much to figure out about them and about the baby. Buck could see more tears and more arguments, but if there was one thing that he could count on, it was that they would make it through it. They’d made it through this break up already any other hurdles or hardships could be dealt with. 

[sweatyracoon]

Tell Me

A/n: Sorry it's been so long. I'll try to be more active, but enjoy this in the mean time.

Warnings: suggestive, vampire boy, angst, fluff?

You had known Felix for a while, but you felt like you didn't know him at the moment.

A few weeks ago he left the shared apartment to visit a few friends at the theater. He came back feeling a little sick.

It had lasted a few days. You stayed home from work trying to help him feel better. It seemed like the flu or a head cold.

He got better, but he was still extremely pale, making his freckles brighter than they had ever been.

His eyes seemed brighter, but darkened when he became upset. He started avoiding you a bit more each passing day, confusing you.

He left the house more often, more during the evening. He felt cold anytime you tried reaching for him, flinching at the temperature of his skin. What was going on with him? Was he still sick?

You asked him once, but he claimed to be fine. It made you sad knowing that your friend didn't feel he could confine in you.

He was wearing more sleeved shirts despite it being summer.

You had finally had enough, not knowing where he was at the late hours if the night.

You decided to stay up in the living room to wait. It was nearly four before you finally heard the door handle unlock.

You stuttered, close to sleep before you heard him. You quickly turned on the light, making him wince in surprise.

He turned to face you, making your jaw drop slightly.

You hadn't seen him face to face in a long while. Just a side glance in passing.

His features had changed drastically.

His blonde hair was black due to tonight's antics, and his freckles had paled, but still leave the highlights to his pale face. His eyes larger somehow, with a red tint. His lips plump and wet, his canines poking out from his top lip.

His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, looking straight into your eyes.

"Where have you been?" You asked quietly.

"Out," he responded, pocketing his keys. The light jingle of the chain filled the silence.

"But where, Felix? I hardly see you anymore, and you've changed." You plead with him suddenly,missing your best friend.

"I haven't changed, y/n. I've just been busy, is all." He sighed, walking to the island in the kitchen, grabbing a glass to fill with water.

"Your hair is black, Felix," You deadpan, not letting it go.

"Just a dumb decision one of the guys suggested. You like it?" He grinned, sipping from the glass.

You couldn't tell him no, because boy, did the color do him justice. His long hair framed his face, and since it was dark, it went really well with his pale features. You gulped.

"Yes, but-" he interrupted.

"So? I'm alright, y/n. Nothing's wrong," he washed his cup, hoping you'd quiet about the subject. "Why are you awake, anyway? It's nearly time for you to go to work."

"I took the day off. I was hoping we could hang out like we used to? We haven't done that since you've gotten sick," you say, hoping to get to him. Not necessarily guilt tripping, but guilt tripping.

He paused, swallowing nervously.

"I work today," he said quickly, confirming your suspicion.

"Felix, you don't have a job," you sigh, suddenly feeling defeat.

It seemed like your best friend didn't want to spend time with you. Which was fine. You just wish he'd admit it rather than tip toeing around you.

"I just don't think it'd be a good idea is all, y/n," He sighed, coming over to stand a few feet from where you sat. "It's not you, honey. I just have some things going on,"

"Like what, Felix?" You stood suddenly, making his eyes widen. "What's so important that you don't even want to see me? You avoid me like the plague, and it makes sad. We used to do everything together. What happened to you?"

At this point you were nearly yelling, and Felix took a few steps back in shock. You were known for your patience.

"I-"

"And don't give me that nothing bullcrap. Something is obviously going on. Do you have a girlfriend? Is that it?" You were close to tears in frustration.

Felix stopped, looking at you like you had just slapped him.

"Girlfriend? No! I told you I was hanging with the guys! Bangchan and Hyunjin, the ones I introduced you to. Listen, I'm just going through something is all. It's not you," Felix tries calming you down, but it only gets you more worked up.

"What is it? What are you going through that we can't go through together? We always did,"

His eyes softened at your words, coming closer to you.

"I'm just going through some changes. I'm still getting used to them. I'm sure you've noticed a few," he tilted his head at you, waiting for you to follow.

It was then when you caught the light bouncing from his bottom lip. They were still moist, and his top canines poked through, leaving small indents on his lower lip.

"Did you sharpen your teeth? And you are more pale...other than that and the hair, I don't see much of a difference."

It was a lie. You noticed everything. How he changed how he dressed slightly, showcasing his tiny figure. How his hands seemed more pronounced, as if he had suddenly hit puberty, the hunger in his gaze. Not lustful, but a yearning for someone to understand whatever it was that he was going through.

"No, I didn't. It's natural...kinda." he smiled lightly. "It's kinda hard to explain."

"Just try," you begged, grasping at his hands, making him freeze.

"why are you so cold? Do you want me to turn on the heat?" You asked, brings his hands up to your neck hoping to heat them up.

"Uhh, no. I'm okay."

He couldn't breathe all of the sudden. He felt the pulse under your skin, the artery that laid just underneath his palm.

"Just look, okay? Don't freak out?" He looked at you, and you nodded.

He gently twisted his neck to the side, showing his neck. You were confused about what he wanted you to see. Until you saw them.

Two marks on the soft skin of his neck where it met his shoulder. Dots. Resembling the same marks as the ones on tv. Vampire bite marks.

"Is this a joke?" You ask, your voice void of any emotion. You let your hands loosen around felixs', his hands dropping back to his sides.

"No," His eyes glowed with confusion. He did what you asked. "I told you-"

He silenced quickly when you brought two rough fingers up to his neck, rubbing a lot harder than you meant to. You wanted to run the makeup off his neck.

"Ow!" He jerked away from you.

That area of his neck was slightly red, but the bite mark remainder as bright as ever.

"Why isn't it rubbing off?" You ask hesitantly.

"Because it's real, damnit!" He scoffed, massaging the irritated area gently.

"How? All that junk isnt real, Felix. This is a terrible excuse to-"

You couldn't even finish, Felix suddenly snapping, pushing you against the wall. You were pinned, your breath quickening at the sight of your friend.

His eyes blazed a wicked red while his teeth seemed to grow. He scowled, showcasing the pearly whites that framed his wet tongue. His hair suddenly disheveled, his breathing heavy.

"I said, it's real! Just listen to me. Your the one that told me to spill what was wrong!" He all but growled at you, making you cower.

"What are you, Felix?" You whisper, surprised you didn't feel any fear. If anything, you could have sworn you were slightly aroused. But you weren't going to think about that right now.

"I'm still me. Nothing more, nothing less, okay?" His gaze softened as well as his tone, lowering his arms from the makeshift cage he had put you in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You cut him off with a hug, smiling, feeling relieved at knowing your best friend still wanted you.

"It's okay. It might be a side effect? I'll let it slide. Just don't let it happen often," you grin, seeing the weight fall from his shoulders.

"Can we still hang out tomorrow?" He grinned back, holding your hand.

"Yes. Now let's go to sleep." You said, yawning. You felt the tiredness crumble onto you.

"Oh...I can't sleep."

You groaned, leaving him to stand in the living room giggling.

[leylayilmz]

Everything happed so quickly, before she could even register what was happening. One moment, she was lost in in a kiss with a very good looking stranger, and the next, she was ripped out of the moment—out of his arms—and all she could see was... wait, Benny?

It was a blur.. his hand, gripping Gabe's flannel, the rage etched into his features, pulling the guy away from her with enough force to send a ripple through the gathered partygoers. Her intoxicated state only added to the disorientation, everything happening too fast for her to comprehend. It felt like a haze... and suddenly, her heart sank to the pit of her stomach as Benny's fist collided with Gabe's jaw, the sickening sound of the impact reverberating in her ears. Her lips parted to say something — anything — but the words lodged in her throat, the entire ordeal rendering her speechless. She could hear her heartbeat pounding like a drum in her ears, drowning out the chaotic scene of murmurs and whispers around them. Her eyes darted between the confusion on Gabe’s face, the tension in Benny’s rigid frame, anger clenched in his jaw. What... what was happening?

As her gaze moved to Gabe on the floor, the rush of voices, music and whispers around them flooded her consciousness and then— "Benny, what the hell?!" She shouted, her voice sharp and panicked, cutting through the outside noise. "Why did you do that?!" Her body, previously frozen, finally jolted into action as she instinctively moved to reach out for him, but Benny was already a step ahead, his back turned to her, his head dipping low. For a fleeting second, their eyes almost met, and it broke her even more. She saw the hurt etched into his features — the way his jaw clenched as if holding back words he couldn't say, the tension in his shoulders that betrayed emotions he couldn't hide. And though his expression was like an open wound—raw, exposed, impossible to miss—he refused to let her in. He refused to even look at her. Her fingers just barely brushed against his arm before he pulled away, shoving through the crowd of partygoers with a determination that left her reeling. "Benny, wait!" she called out, desperation lacing her voice as she tried to follow. She weaved through the crowd, pushing past a few before realising it was no use, it was too late. He was gone—swallowed by the crowd and chaos he'd left in his wake. The room felt unbearably loud and suffocating now, and yet she stood frozen, trying to process what had just unfolded as the weight of everything came crashing down on her all at once. But the questions swirling in her mind only made the suffocating tension worse. She was confused, mad... confused.

After what felt like a lifetime, she shifted her thoughts to the poor guy that had gotten dragged into.. whatever that was. Guilt and embarrassment twisted in her chest as she crouched behind him, her mind spinning. What had she done? "Are you okay?" She asked quickly, her hands hovered near his face, torn between wanting to check if he was hurt and giving him the space he might need. "I .. I don't know what just happened, I'm so sorry." She trailed off, her words faltering as her thoughts raced. Benny’s reaction, his refusal to meet her gaze, the way he left so abruptly—it was more than just anger. He was hurt. Deeply hurt. "Let me help you up," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, though the shakiness in the hand she held out betrayed her.

The excitement she responded with took Gabe aback initially, and he smirked against her lips. That’s when he felt her fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, and any smirk was gone entirely, too lost in everything that was her. The air around them felt hot, and his skin tingled from the rush of what was happening. The soft sigh that escaped her caused his lips to part as his tongue gently teased her further, and the hand tangled in her hair moved back to her neck and gently gripped it, thumb caressing her caramel skin. Her hands were exploring his body, too, and he felt her fingers moving through his hair, then she tugged. Gabe responded with a gentle moan of approval, low and rumbling, and parted his mouth as his movements against her became more wanting. 

They had melted into each other; her body fit him like a glove, and he had no sense of time or how long they had been kissing. Kissing women he didn’t know was a regular occurrence for a drunken Gabe, but something about this kiss was different. She was different. The way his body was reacting to her was almost feverish, and he was consumed by her. That’s why he let out a groan when she broke away. He was grateful to catch his breath, but she had stirred something in him, so he stole some quick kisses on her cheek and jaw to appease his need for her. Finally, he pulled back and looked down at her, grinning as she laughed adorably. 

“Well,” he repeated back at her, brow rising as he wondered what she possibly had to say. Before he had a chance to respond, she was kissing him again, hands tugging him towards her. Gabe grabbed her hips and pulled her in just as passionately, craving her scent and feel of her. There was no doubt they both wanted this, and anyone watching could see the desire and attraction from the way their hands roamed over one another.

[cjgladback]

For the first time in a long while, I got to go to a white elephant gift exchange this December! We had a low price ceiling and my practically wins out over any practical joke sensibilities every time, so on the designated shopping day I left my local overstock store with a nice chopstick set, some fancy (not at all mess-free) popcorn, and a dream.

When I was growing up, my mom was an intrepid homeschooling parent who loved event planning, valued cultural exploration, and had married into a Japanese family. Multiple times - sometimes in the setting of a multicultural fair, at least once as a kind of class party (with celebratory takeout at the end) - she faced teaching large groups of children how to use chopsticks quickly and with as little cost and cleanup as possible.

Her answer was popcorn! It's edible, so you get the full motion down, and lightweight but large enough for less coordinated sticks to pinch. It has tons of nubbins to grab and widely varied shapes to experiment with. Specifically, we used air-popped kernels, without oil or toppings, so when it gets overzealously crushed or bounces away and gets missed by a broom, it's basically biodegradable styrofoam.

What I'm saying is, this is my mom's fault. Other than the choice to draw so many hands in one afternoon on the same day as the party, while also baking a snack. That's all me. This primer was delivered in the format of a tiny booklet (if you look up an "eight page zine" that's also a method I learned from my mom, to turn single-sided misprints into notepads), with fewer jokes and tips than I'd have liked because I simply did not have time to transcribe a hashi rest fold or hairstyle. But reformatted (for Mastodon) it looks fairly respectable.

Lengthy image descriptions and full poster format under the cut.

[ID: A title page reads "How to Use Chopsticks" in all caps. The words "without too much mess" are between two straight, orange lines, which start with round points at the left, evoking chopsticks, and end in flared shapes of a silhouetted splash on the right. Below the lower line are the words "by CJ Gladback." All the text is in black, the background is white but appears light orange due to a repeating geometric watermark pattern of CJ's logo in orange overlaid on the whole image; her handle on most sites is included once on each of the following spreads: @cjgladback​

Next is the first spread of four illustrations with their instructions. On the left half of page are two line drawings of a right hand holding one and then two chopsticks, with the text, "The first stick rests on the side of your ring finger's nail and the flesh between your thumb and index finger. Your middle finger's pad holds it securely while it can slide against your thumb as your hand changes posture in use. The second stick is held between the knuckle of your thumb and the middle section of your index finger. This is the one you move to change angles; it may touch but doesn't really rest on the middle finger's tip." In orange, two arrows indicate the rest points for the first stick while small hashes emanate from the points pressed on the middle and ring fingertips and under the thumb's joint holding the top stick. On the right upper quadrant of the page is the text "Hold them close to parallel to scoop." A hand holds two sticks poked into a bowl of rice between the viewer and the palm; a series of parallel orange lines emphasize the space between the sticks. The remaining quadrant's text reads, "Press with your index finger to pinch firmly." This hand is holding an indistinct rounded shape in its chopsticks, with an orange arrow indicating the rotation of the index finger's tip to press the top stick's point toward the bottom's.

Next is the final spread of the pamphlet. The upper right text reads, "Practice with something medium sized and low mess like (air-popped) popcorn." A single piece of popcorn is held in disembodied chopsticks above a full popcorn bowl, with several kernels fallen to the surface below it. Text below reads, "Pick up your dishes to bring close to your mouth to scoop the harder to grab foods." An implied tilted bowl of food (fried rice or porridge with diced pieces) protrudes off the page, covering only the lower left corner. Close-up chopsticks have their points buried in the food and their lines fade out toward the right. The final black text, underlined by two orange chopstick shapes, reads, "but most of all, do what feels comfortable and eat well!" In orange in the lower right corner, the parenthetical "(and maybe knit a scarf)" is followed by a small orange drawing of a steaming bowl of noodles and sliced egg with a noodle line trailing toward two upward angled sticks with loopy hashes indicating knit fabric hanging from them.

The final image is the full booklet in its web format, with the three previous images from this post stacked vertically. Some orange lines have been added between what were pages in the print booklet, to aid reading flow. /end ID]

[gio-cosmo]

Yippie !

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[sugume]

r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru

PART 2

r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 

r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 

Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  

r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 

“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  

r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 

“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  

[chastiefoul]

love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel

fluff, fluff, FLUFF

zayne

his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in

he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.

“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.

he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”

you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”

you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.

you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”

“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”

xavier

he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.

he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.

your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?

xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.

you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.

“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive  you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.

you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”

rafayel

oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.

“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”

“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.

you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.

“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.

finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.

“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 5:48

Bakugou’s in his third year of high school when he finally invites you over to his house. The reason? To finish a calculus project.

You’d think that after surviving through the hardships of being a hero-in-training together for three years, saving each other’s lives (more often you were the one being saved than doing the saving, really), and whatnot, he would’ve invited you sooner to his home (one could dream).

But this was Bakugou, after all.

And he knew that something was off the moment he left you to share a conversation with his mom while he went to get his books from his room—the greatest mistake he could have ever done because by the time he’s making his way back, Bakugou could hear you snickering to yourself.

Not a good sign.

“I’m not going to lie; you looked hideous when you were a baby,” you say, reading through Bakugou’s baby album.

Bakugou froze. He had absolutely no idea why his mother would cave in and give you the godforsaken album from when he was young, but of course she would’ve agreed with your request to see it if you did so much as mention it.

He dropped the books he’d grabbed from on top of his desk on top of the living room table before whipping his attention towards you, an indignant scoff escaping through his nose before he took a few slow, but heavy stomps over to you—practically snatching the album from your grasp when he’s within reach.

“Stop looking through those stupid pictures.”

“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” you reply with a frown. “You’re lucky my phone’s battery just died, or else I would’ve taken a billion photos.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched slightly as he grumbled curses under his breath, trying to flip through the album in his hands to make sure you hadn’t managed to sneak a photo out—a small sigh of relief rolling off of his tongue to find that, luckily, it was still how his parents had done it.

He shot a glare over towards you, stuffing the album back into its original spot on one of the bookshelves, his nose crinkling as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t care; tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll drop dead,” he tells you.

“Oh, but how could I not? That photo album’s like hitting the jackpot—so many super ultra rare photocards of you,” you gushed, blatantly disregarding his usual threat. “Come on, I wanna see the rest!”

“Absolutely not.” 

Bakugou knew the damn photos were in the back of the album. There were probably a handful of the ones where he was in the bathtub, butt-naked—a common photo in most photo albums he’s seen, at least. Other photos include when he was three years old and wore an All Might onesie for his birthday, pictures of him during his school recital where he was the prince, him with a bald haircut, and so much more blackmail material. 

It was humiliating, for goodness sake! And he knew you’d just tease him mercilessly if you saw it.

You’ll never let him live it down, so it’s best to deprive you of it.

“Don’t come at me for saying this, but I was the cutest baby in our village back then,” you told him proudly. “Had the roundest cheeks and brightest smile, trust.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a huff of air forcing itself past his lips. That was one thing about you that he couldn’t stand; you were so full of yourself most of the time—you’d always been like that, and he absolutely loathed it. It could be that it reminds him of himself, so the competitive meter on his head just flares whenever he’s around you.

“I doubt you were even 1% of how adorable I was as a baby.”

“Have you seen me?” you gestured to your face with your hands to emphasize your facial features. 

“I’m still as cute even now. And no offense, Bakugou,” you giggled, “you looked like a wrinkly raisin on your first few days on this Earth.”

Bakugou’s smirk dropped. He’d almost forgotten that you had seen the stupid pictures already.

“Shut the hell up. It wasn’t that bad.” He muttered quietly, his hands balling into frustrated fists. His parents always assured him that he was a cute kid when he was small—but to hear that YOU of all people, are in disagreement with that is just aggravating.

“Fine, fine. Quits it is,” you hum. “Let’s do that calculus project so I can get home before sunset.”

Bakugou grumbled something inaudible under his breath, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. There was no point in arguing about something so idiotic—after all, both of you were there to get a project done, not to sit around and bicker about his past.

He took a few steps over to the living room table before plopping down on the polished floor ungracefully, yanking out his notes before he gestured his hand over towards the free space next to him.

“Sit down. Let’s just get this thing done and over with already.”

Bakugou had already started working silently by the time you sat down; his hand was writing almost furiously as he copied equations onto his paper. He kept his attention focused on his notes, trying to stay quiet as he focused completely on completing the project.

He eventually stopped writing for a moment, turning his gaze over to glance at what you were doing before clicking his tongue at the sight. Bakugou could already see a few mistakes you’d made with your work.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he says.

“Wait, I’ve barely turned on the calculator, jeez.” You shook your head, solving the equation through your calculator.

“And that’s how I know you’re doing it wrong.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his own head in disappointment. 

“Formula first before adding 1.3.”

He pulled out a pen and began scribbling down on his own paper, glancing at yours every once in a while to compare the work. He knew from his experience that you were decent at math (he’d rather die than tell you that), but this was just pitiful even by your standards.

“Have you been dozing off during Ectoplasm’s class?”

“Ouch. Do you have a personal grudge against keeping the not-so-nice stuff from leaving your mouth?” you sigh. “You’re hurting my feelings— I’m devastated.”

He had a feeling you’d say something like that, and he was prepared to ignore your attempts at gaining sympathy from him.

“Unfortunately, you’ll fucking live,” Bakugou says, scribbling down the last of his work before turning it towards you. “And learn how to solve equations too, while you’re at it.”

“I know how to do it; calm down.” You huff, rewriting your solutions.

Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow, his head tilting with a hint of disbelief. Even if he knew you were capable of doing math, you had a bad habit of missing even the smallest details, like the operation to be used in your work, leading to the wrong answers.

His eyes scanned over the work you’d written on your paper before letting out a small huff. “Looks right. Are you done with your half?”

“Yep, yep. Are you going to write it down on our answer sheet, or should I do it?” you offered.

Bakugou glanced down at the answer sheet set to the side before picking it up and nodding. He was already holding a pen while you were still using a pencil, so it would make more sense for him to be the one to write it all down.

He began copying down the answers slowly and carefully, each number being written out with ease as his eyes flicked back and forth from the worksheet to the sheet of answers.

With him busy jotting down the answers, you occupied yourself with taking in the interior of his living room. It was beautiful, neat, and just screamed rich—not really what you expected (you really didn’t know what to expect, honestly). “Y’know,” you mention, glancing around. “You have a nice house.”

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes remaining focused on his task. It kind of took him by surprise to hear you say something out of the blue—about his house, no less. He’d fully expected you to talk about something else, like school or that new show you’ve been begging him to watch.

It went against what Bakugou had originally thought, which led him to look over at you from the corner of his eye, silently raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a nice house,” he said casually, his pen continuing to move over the paper. His penmanship was neat, and Bakugou hears you in awe. 

Bakugou continued to finish writing down the last of the answers, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed you looking around his house. It was obvious what was happening, but he decided to ignore it in favor of just getting the godforsaken project done.

He finished soon enough, his pen rolling back with a click before he leaned back a little and let out a small huff. “We’re done. Finally.”

“Nice, nice.” Glancing at your watch, you concluded, “I should get home.”

Bakugou was silent, rolling his shoulders and neck before glancing out of the nearby window. The sun had already begun to set over the sky, the day quickly slipping away into the night.

“Yeah, whatever. You need me to walk you home or something?” He asks gruffly.

“Nah, I’m good. I need to say goodbye to your parents, too.”

Bakugou watched as you packed up all of your belongings, a scoff rolling off of his tongue. It felt almost weird to be civil with each other, neither of you having taken jabs or making snarky remarks to taunt one another. 

“Alright, fine,” he finally said, standing up from his seat and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go find my parents then.”

He led you down the hall and into the kitchen area, his ears vaguely picking up the sounds of his mother and father talking amongst themselves about… something. He couldn’t tell what exactly, and frankly, he barely even cared.

“Mom, Dad.” He spoke up, capturing the attention of his parents. 

Mitsuki looked over at him, a smile spreading across her face. Masaru looked in the same direction, a warm smile forming on his face as well.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou,” you said in gratitude. “I’ll be going home now before it gets too late.”

His parents shared a hum in acknowledgment, with his mother being the one to speak up first. She had a knowing grin on her face as she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering over to her son.

“You’re welcome. You should come over more often,” Mitsuki said enthusiastically, her voice taking on a slightly smug tone.

Masaru laughed as he nodded in agreement. He gave a knowing look to his wife before he looked back over at you. “You should join us for dinner; we already made enough for you to join us.”

“I’d love to, sir, but my folks are waiting for me at home,” you answered sheepishly.

Bakugou noticed the glance his parents exchanged and immediately knew what they were thinking. He almost grumbled in frustration, already knowing that they’d ask him about you later after you left.

His mother spoke up once again, her smug grin growing wider. “You’re always welcome here,” she repeated, her eyes flickering over to her son as her voice came out teasing. “After all, Katsuki’s always in a ‘better’ mood when you’re around.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it, ma'am. I’m a joy to be around, after all,” you lightly joked, though you still maintained a respectful tone.

His parents were easier to get along with than you thought.

Bakugou’s eye twitched in annoyance at your words, almost making him want to quip back at your cocky behavior. However, it was the sound of his mother’s sudden laughter that stopped him from doing so.

Mitsuki mother put her hand up to her mouth briefly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she continued to chuckle. The expression on her face was elated, and it was pissing him off even more, knowing what’s to come. 

“I like this one,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Masaru added, “And clearly, so does Ka—“

“All right! They need to get going to catch the shitty train.”

By the time Bakugou accompanied you to the door, he had this obvious scowl on his face. “You’re never comin’ back here again, dipshit.”

“Wha— no fair! Why am I getting banned from the Bakugou residence when this is my first time here?” you replied.

“Shut up,” he grunts. “I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my house, too.”

“Too bad I have your Mom’s number—“

“Delete that.”

“Hey— wai— no way!”

It was not the last time you were ever invited to the Bakugou residence.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[kenananamin]

Tie my tie, marry me

Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him

It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.

You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.

Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.

He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.

"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.

Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.

Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.

The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.

It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.

You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.

"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"

You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.

Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.

Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."

His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.

Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.

Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.

Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.

"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"

Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.

[bi-writes]

Hi, you mentioned MOB and Simon do movie nights. What kind of movies do you think they'd watch together? I can picture him stomaching a cheesy rom com because he knows how much she loves them but I can also kind of imagine her surprising him by choosing something like a horror movie. I'm probably way off base. Idk why and this might just be me but I find that certain horror movies put me in a bit of a cozy mood lol

mail-order bride

"simon, did you get the popcorn?"

you hear what sounds like a grunt in response. you keep rummaging through the cabinet on your toes, frowning, pushing aside the cartons of stock and bags of rice as you look for the box he supposedly picked up.

"simon--?"

you jump when you feel two big hands on your waist. you gasp when he drags you backwards, pressing your ass against his front, reaching up over you as he slides the corn starch aside to pick out the box you were looking for. he drops it into your hands, giving the side of your neck a warm kiss before pulling away.

"you put it up there on purpose," you giggle, turning around to face him. he makes a face, feigning ignorance, and he puts a hand over his chest.

"dunno wot y'r talkin' about, luv," he mutters, touching your chin gently. "did y'pick a film?"

you nod, and he takes the box from your hands.

"mmm. i'll get it ready for ya. you get it started on the telly," he nods his head behind him. you give his cheek a light kiss before making your way behind him. you curl up on the couch, throwing a blanket over your legs. you watch as the cat slinks into the room from the corner of your eye, padding into the kitchen where she smells the popcorn. when simon comes back into the room, she's following him closely, staring up at the bowl in his hands as he takes a seat next to you.

he glares down at the cat as she takes a seat in front of his legs. she hops up onto the coffee table, sitting on the edge, and she blinks as he snarls at her, putting a piece of popcorn in his mouth and crunching down on it rather obnoxiously as if to taunt her.

"wot are we watchin'?" simon asks finally as you click the remote. you lean your back against one side of him, settling the blanket over both of you as you reach into the bowl and take a few pieces of popcorn.

"terrifier."

"ya wanna watch somethin' scary?" he chuckles, raising a brow. "didn't think ya'd fancy somethin' so..."

"so what?" you smile up at him, turning your head. "gory? you should know, i happen to appreciate low budget, indie films that feature lots of blood. besides, i heard people literally got sick from the second one, so we have to catch up."

simon snorts, bopping your nose with his thumb.

"y'r bloody hilarious, baby," he mutters, nudging his nose against yours. you put a hand on his chest and push him backwards, giggling.

"oh, no," you warn him, shaking your head. "we're not doing this again."

"doin' wot?"

"we haven't finished a single film in the last few weeks because you can't keep yourself off," you laugh, turning back to the tv.

"don't know wot y'r talkin' about," he murmurs, his eyes honed in on your mouth. the curve of it, how you wet it with your tongue, the cherry gloss that's still lingering from when you put it on earlier.

you lean up a little, whispering against his lips, "i mean..." you kiss him softly, "like last night..."

he chases you when you pull away, his breaths heavy as he stares down at the low neckline of your shirt, the peek of the bra he nearly tore off of you just a few hours ago. he meets your eyes, humming.

"mmm..." simon licks his lips, "fuckin' hell..."

you smile, big eyes, all soft.

"i really, really wanna watch it, simon," you whisper. "can you do that for me? pretty please?"

simon sighs, scrunching his nose a little before nodding his head.

"woteva y'want, baby. can have woteva y'want."

you crunch on more popcorn as you turn your head around. simon throws his arm around you, pulling you closer, and he narrows his eyes as the cat jumps onto the couch beside him. he relents finally, picking off a small piece of popcorn and setting it down in front of her.

simon nearly throws the entire bowl when she merely sniffs it and walks away.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

lotus

a/n: this has been sitting half-written on my pc for i don't even know how many months (tbh at least half a year. i was living somewhere else when i started it wow). finally took a deep breath and finished it (though with an ending that kinda flies by a bit because just wanted it to get done. i was scared that the story would never see the light of day, so zooming through the ending was a better option)

summary: a nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

warnings: massage therapist!bucky barnes x reader, smut, sex worker!bucky, bucky doesn't have the metal arm in this one, thinking that your friend just signed you up for a normal massage but then it turns out to be an erotic one, kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, toys, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, anal, double penetration

word count: 4000

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

With a hand tangled up in one of the ties of the robe you wore, you answered your front door after finally hearing the bells chime.

“Hi,” a soft smile swiftly warmed up the features of the man standing on the other side of the threshold, “are you miss Y/l/n?”

“Yeah, I am,” a tingle of nerves flickered through your body as your gaze washed over him, “you must be the masseuse.”

Why did he have to be so attractive? If it was this difficult to remember to breathe when he was standing completely out of your reach, then how were you going to survive a guy such as him touching you?

Following your gaze down to the folded-up table he carried, he nodded, “guilty,” before setting down the duffle bag he clutched in his other hand and extended it for you to grasp, “my name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you briefly shook it, “nice to meet you.”

“You too,” the touch faded, and he bent down to pick the supplies back up, “so, where should I set up?”

“Oh, in here, in the living room,” you gestured behind you and shifted to the side for him to enter. As he set up everything, you stayed at the perimeter and felt your heartbeat thump behind your ribcage, “is it weird that I’m a bit nervous?” you then quietly asked.

Briefly pausing his actions as he unfurled the massage table, he cast a glance your way.

“It’s not weird at all, it’s okay,” he stated in a calm tone, “but I assure you, this is a completely safe space, you’re in good hands.”

“I just–, this wasn’t exactly my idea, or even at all,” your hands fiddle further with the terrycloth tie around your waist as you began to ramble, “Nat, my friend, she told me that I needed to relax, so she booked this appointment for me as a treat. I don’t even know what it is she signed me up for, if it was just like a little five-minute long thing or what.”

“Oh no, she signed you up for the full package, 90 minutes.” 

“Really?” your eyebrows rose, “wow, that’s amazing.”

Once the table was set up and he rummaged through the bag for a towel as well as other supplies, his low timbre filled the room once more.

“So, before we start, I’d just like to ask if there’s anything off limits to you, anything you don’t like or that you’re not interested in? Or perhaps something in particular you’d like today?”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” your eyes narrowed slightly as you thought, quickly scanning through your body to get a good sense, “you can just be as rough with me as you want.”

“Alright, you like it rough, good to know,” you felt yourself suck in a silent breath at the way the phrase fell from his lips, “you ready to begin?”

“Yep,” you swallowed, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered he seemed to make you. 

He then lifted up the ivory sheets he’d sprawled out on the plush bench and held it up high, giving you a smidge of privacy as you dropped your robe to a nearby armchair, before laying down on the table and feeling the cotton drape over you. 

As you layed there on your stomach with your face comfortably nestled in the little nook, you sensed Bucky adjust the fabric, folding it down so that your entire back was exposed. 

A dull click found your ears as he pumped some oil into his palm. The very first touch conjured a brisk breath to fill your lungs as his hands slid along your spine, spreading the slickness around. 

Though when you finally managed to force yourself to relax into his touch, a soft moan slipped from your lips as his meticulous grip found a muscle particularly sore.

“Sorry,” you timidly apologized for the sound. 

But he simply zeroed in on the very spot that had made you groan and said, “don’t apologize, whatever bubbles up, please let it out.”

Your lips stayed half parted as his touch dug deeper, “it just feels really good right there...”

“Yeah, you seem to be holding a lot of tension in your back, especially right here between your shoulder blades.”

“Probably all the time on the couch,” you let out a pitiful chuckle, “I just kept on getting into uncomfortable positions and then stayed like that. Which, funnily enough, is pretty symbolic of how I ended up there in the first place, stuffing my face with Ben and Jerry’s and binging the most depressing of romcoms.”

“Bad breakup?” he guessed. 

“I don’t think you can call it a break-up if you never really were together in the first place,” you let out a sigh. Yet again had you fallen for a guy who’d turned out to be a complete and utter asshole, “men are just pigs,” you spat out, “no offence.”

“Oh, none taken,” he uttered, “you know, it’s actually very common for people to get this particular treatment after something like that.”

“Really? Your touch is on the same level as bawling your eyes out to Joni Mitchell?” you jested, “well, now I’m really happy that I let my friend talk me into this.”

Soon, when his touch had kneaded every inch of your back, it faded away and reappeared lower on your frame as you then felt him fold the sheet up to expose your legs, letting the thin fabric only drape across and cover the curve of your bottom. 

Once his touch had soothingly wandered up the length of your legs and as his broad palms dented your slightly parted thighs, you nearly didn’t notice through the trance-like state you’d drifted off to when his reach crept close enough to your core to feel the heat radiating off it. A gasp parted your lips as his fingers briefly ghosted against the very outside of your puff before retreating back down your thigh. 

“Is it alright if remove this for a bit?” he then asked as you felt his hand clutch the sliver of modesty that remained. 

“Oh, uhm,” you fought to comprehend his question through the haze you’d slipped into, both the haze of relaxation, though maybe more predominately the haze of sin, which was most likely what had swayed you to utter, “sure,” trying your best to stay calm as he removed the sheet completely. 

It became a difficult task to keep your quiet noises at bay and have them not seep through your heavy breath as he then began to massage the soft peak of your butt. 

You tried to remind yourself that it was the biggest muscle on the human body and thereby completely normal to be treated in this manner, but that truth would have been easier to swallow if it had been a less attractive specimen touching you in such a way. 

Eventually, Bucky’s lavish rubs came to spread you apart with each repetitive motion, surely granting himself a perfect view of just how mortifyingly wet you’d become. 

As he let his broad thumbs dig into your sitting points, you told yourself it was the slipperiness of the oil that caused his fingers to sweep closer to your core and not your own nectar that had leaked down towards his touch. 

It felt so good that your hips unconsciously tilted up and into his touch, as his thumbs slid close enough to caress your outer lips, nearly capturing them in a gentle pinch. 

You didn’t know how long it took, how long you essentially grinded into him as if you were in heat, but eventually, you snapped out of your fog and realized just where his fingers were. 

“U-uh… w-what are you doing?” your frame jumped slightly at the realization.

“Do you not like this?” his touch paused, though didn’t retreat. 

“Why–, uhm…” you nearly panted, “you’re just very close to somewhere else.”

And when he simply uttered, “yeah, I know,” in an almost amused and cocky tone. You swiftly propped yourself up onto your arms and glared back at him, successfully prompting him to rip his hands away.

Snatching the sheet back over your frame as you scrambled to a seat, you stared back at him in utter shock, “I’m sorry, but are you actually trying to sleep with me right now?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked back at you, seemingly confused at your outburst, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’ve had massages before, that was not–… that right there was something else. That was not you doing your job, that was your hands being persuaded by your dick.”

A nervous breath then escaped his lungs before he uttered, “you do know what kind of massage this is, right?” to which you only blinked back at him all the same, none of your shock evaporation at his words, “you know that I’m here to give you more than just a regular massage?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh boy, I’m sorry, I thought you knew…” his glance fell to the floor as he then began to enlighten, “well, the lotus wellness center, where I work, specializes in the blend of not just physical and mental health, but also sexual health and satisfaction. An erotic massage, like the one you were signed up for, is one of the many services we offer.”

Your eyes had grown as wide as saucers during his explanation, “o-oh…”

“I totally understand if you wanna stop, if you’re not interested.”

“I–…” you tried to make heads or tails of the situation you found yourself in, “so you were gonna–, what? Fuck me?”

“I was gonna try and make you feel good, help you relax and unwind. You were signed up for the aurelia treatment which would involve me using my hands to pleasure you, as well as whatever toys you might be interested in.”

“Toys?”

“Yes, I have a generous collection with me,” he briefly gestured back to the duffle bag resting on the couch. 

“Okay, uhm…” one of your palms came down to brush over your features as you fought to comprehend it all.

“Do you want me to pack up and go?” you heard him ask. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, before you even realized it was moving, you shook your head. Letting your gaze flutter back up to find his, you exhaled lowly, “fuck…”

“I can also just give you a completely traditional massage if that’s what you want.”

“…and if I wanna try the other thing?” you nearly whispered. 

“Do you?”  

“I–…” you tried to speak, though couldn’t find the words and ended up just hazily nodding back at him. 

“Alright,” he gently mirrored the nod that still faintly rocked your head, “I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, I promise. You just say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed, shivering slightly at the tingle of goosebumps that spread across your flesh. 

The way he held your gaze a moment longer before shifting it to the massage table you still sat upon made you feel as if you might melt off it entirely.

“Lay back down,” he faintly nodded to the bench. 

Your eyes stayed glued on him long after you now layed sprawled out on your back. 

Letting his touch graze the sheet you still absentmindedly clutched to your chest, he asked, “do you wanna keep this on?”

“No,” you shook your head faintly, “you can remove it.”

“Okay,” he gently peeled the fabric off of you, “just say if you get cold, alright?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fantasy you found yourself in. 

He began by working at your arms, tenderly spreading some oil across them and massaging down the length of them, one at a time, till his skilful fingers descended to work at your palms. It nearly felt as if he was merely holding your hand before he tossed you into the deep end with how intimate the simple beginning sensed. 

You couldn’t command your gaze to leave his visage as you traced his every move as if he was made of stardust. 

When his warmth let go of your hand, he reached for the bottle of oil that didn’t have a pump and unscrewed the top. Your bottom lip got caught by your teeth as he then poured a bit out over your stomach, curving the s-waves of droplets all the way up and across your boobs, dripping over your pebbly nipples as they stared back at him. 

As Bucky began to rub it in, he first stared softly down at your belly before swooping up, only to skip over your tits entirely and instead yanking a disappointed whimper from your lungs as he then commenced massaging your shoulders. 

You felt a bit lightheaded as you blinked up at him, all tall and broad, looming above your head and digging his warm touch into the base of your neck. 

Though when his rough palms finally did swoop down to caress your soft peaks, he quietly checked in, “this okay?” to which you simply nodded your head, eyebrows knitting together at the intenseness of the built-up anticipation.

Your entire chest cage heaved beneath his touch as he finally massaged your boobs, even occasionally fleeting away to ghost across your nipples, only to capture them in a pinch the next moment. 

You felt as if you were floating down a calm stream, letting the river of sin take you somewhere new and wonderful. 

Eventually, his broad palms swept up and down your form, though each time his reach dared to near your core, he barely touched you at all, missing entirely the spots that throbbed for attention, which of course only caused the sensation to deepen and render you even more desperate from his teasing. 

When he then shifted to stand to the side of the patted table, his deep voice washed over you once more as his touch stayed warm against your skin.

“Everything okay so far?”

“Yeah…” you hummed as you lazily blinked up at him, and the soft smile that curved your lips caused a similar one to bloom upon his own. 

His slow stride then carried him further down till his fingers began to dent the softness of your thighs. 

After he’d made your eyes flutter at the way he worked at the muscles in your legs, focusing on one thigh at a time, slowing working his way up till his fingertips stretched to dizzily brush against your outermost petals, it was then, that his sweeps grew and blossomed till one fleeting tease to your centre morphed into more as he kept coming back, each fluttering time slowly transforming till the maddening pets had become everything you’d dreamed of.

Soft whimpers flowed out of your lungs as he gently folded each of your legs up by your sides and cracked you wide open for him.  

As he gazed down at you with such intensity you’d never experienced before, it only took one step for him to change his angle and stand tall next to your hips. 

Letting his palms run up your inner thighs, the edges of each of his broad thumbs then met and joined on either side of your pussy as he captured it in a light pinch, making you moan softly, “fuck….” as his touch rolled your clit through your glistening puff. 

You nearly didn’t catch it because of how hard your own pants were, but Bucky’s own breaths had picked up as well and with a few stray curses seeping through his teeth as he continued to pluck at the strings of your pleasure. 

But then, before you could truly lose yourself to the ecstasy you felt flicking in your periphery, his hands slipped away, a smirk fast on his lips as a whine escaped you and he returned his attention to the rest of your body. Though thankfully, his torture only carried on a short moment before he finally granted you the first of many treats.

“Oh, yeah,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rubbed your clit and carried you over the peak. 

“Right there?” he leaned down closer to you as he kept up his pace, his free hand coming to rest right beside your head as he loomed over you. 

“Yeah,” you breathlessly panted as your body trembled beneath his touch. 

“Yeah?” he huskily echoed, nearly sharing your breath as he drew out your orgasm for as long as he could, and even as your body began to squirm at the sensitivity that swiftly set in, his touch never left you, only lightened to make it bearable and tickle you back from the high. 

He studied your features fiercely as his fingers then came down to tease your entrance. 

“How about this?” your leaky hole swallowed up the two digits he swiftly filled it with, “how’s that? Is that what you want?”

“Oh fuck!” your back briefly arched and lifted you off the table, closer to him for but a moment as sloppy sounds of your want echoed at the slow rhythm he played you at. 

“Or do you need a little more maybe?” he sneaked another finger inside, “huh?” his frame then bent down till you could feel his hot breath fan across your face, “what do you want? You want something more to make you feel good right here?” his fingers slid back out of your pussy and fluttered up till they found your puffy pearl, “or here?” he briefly soared back down to plug up your cunt once more, but only offered you one messily rock before his digits slipped back out and drifted down much further than you expected, “or maybe even here?” you let out a gasp as the slick pads of his fingers glided over your little rosebud. 

“I–, I–,” you struggled to answer him, feeling so foggy that you might just fall off the table, “fuck…” 

“I have any toy you could dream of with me,” he purred as your grip found his shirt for support, “so, what do you want?”

“I want–, I want–”

“What?” he pushed as he continued to stare down into your eyes. 

And as blinked back at him, only one wish came to mind, one that you timidly whispered, “y-you…”

But as fear began to prickle at your nerves, they all dissipated as the masseuse wasn’t offended at all, your words somehow conjuring a dazzled smile to appear upon his lip before he then chuckled warmly, “roll over for me.”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from the hast you tried to fulfil his command.         

As he soon kneeled down to be on level with where your head was now twisted and resting on its side, his hand drifted up for you to spot the dildo clutched in his grasp. 

Handing it off to your flicking fingers, his touch briefly lingered on your cheek, stroking it softly as he said, “then pretend this is me, will you? Get it nice and sloppy for me.”

When you began to plant pecks across the silicon, your eyes shadowed him as far as they could as he straightened back up and walked back far enough to disappear from your sight, only for you to know where he’d gone to once you felt his mouth begin to devour you whole. 

It became difficult to concentrate on the task he’d given you, so much so that he had to remind you each time his lavish tongue buried between your legs caused your own to forget itself. 

Arching your ass further up towards his efforts, he tilted away from your drooling cunt and instead nipped up till he lapped against your other hole. 

“Oh, that feels really good,” you moaned around the dildo as you tried to catch a glimpse of him, though only saw the edge of one of his hands and they dented your bottom. 

“Yeah?” he let a dollop of spit drop to your rosebud before he nudged the pad of a thumb against it, “you like having this little hole played with?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, then watched as he momentarily dipped away to snatch up a butt plug from the zipped-open treasure trove his bag was. 

Once the toy was snugly buried within your little ass, he snatched the dildo out of your mouth and a string of your drool chased the silicone as he brought it back to tap against the sloppy petals of your pussy. 

It didn’t take very long after he’d begun to fuck you with the toy that you tumbled over the edge once more, making you that much more malleable when he yanked at your legs and manhandled you down to the bottom of the bench till your unsteady feet were once again on the floor and he had you bent over the table like a needy whore. 

That was also when your weak pleas began to bubble out, begging for him to fill you up with something other than a toy. 

Even though you couldn’t see his face, you swore you heard a tinge of astonishment in his tone when he asked you to clarify, making sure it really was him that had you begging and not just the way he made you feel. 

Though once you finally managed to convey the sincerity of your words and convince him of the way he and not just the acts he was performing, drove you wild, it was in the middle of chasing your next high that he broke his pattern and traded out the dildo with his own hard cock. 

A low moan seeped across your spine as he buried his length completely and let himself melt down against your back. Letting himself savour the sweetness of your warmth clenching around his fat girth, it took him a while before he finally began to move and soon found a steady pace that had your toes curling against the floorboards. 

His fingers gently dug into the soreness still remaining all down your back as his hips repeatedly collided with the plush of your ass in desperate thrusts. Though as his digits worked their way down the length of your spine, they eventually found the little plug that still remained in your ass. 

Teasingly twisting the toy, you thought that was everything he had planned, though all of those fantasies fluttered away when he suddenly yanked the small plug out and switched it with the bigger toy still firm in his grasp, your little hole only managing to wink up at him before he stuffed it full once more. 

You lost track of the amount of times he made you cum as the remainder of the intense dance became a bit of a blur. At one point he had you flipped around and lying on your back, gasping up at him as he folded you in half and nearly broke the massage table beneath you from how hard his deep strokes were. At the next, the dildo he drove you mad with was traded out with his own fat cock and he conjured a vibrating wand to hold against your puffy clit as he watched your pussy leak from the bliss. But at the end, once you were nothing more than a puddle on the table, his load painted against your tits as he let his frame drape down atop of yours, a hazy question left your lips.

“Is that usually how that goes?” you asked as you both panted, plastered against one another. 

Raising himself up only enough for his eye to catch your own, he uttered sincerely, “no…” and his gaze flickered down towards your lips, “no, it is not…” before he let himself give you the thing you hadn’t dared to request. The kiss was so sweet it nearly caused you to forget the sinful acts you’d just wrapped up.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 4

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 6.6k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

additional chapter cw: suggestive language/acts, mature readers only please

⇢ series masterlist

Rafe lifted his fist to knock on your door.

But before he could bring his knuckles to the wood, he froze, suddenly panicked that he had no idea what he was going to say when you appeared behind it. He stepped back, crinkling the package of the candy in his hands.

“Hey, so,” he whispered, practicing to himself. “I’m sorry if that was weird. Not weird. Sorry if that was uncomfortable? I don’t know why I’m saying sorry. Hey, so, Kelce is a dick, right? Maybe I should say sorry. Fuck…”

As he paced back and forth, the floor creaked below him. He was too preoccupied with trying to find the right words to notice he was making noise. He didn’t get a chance to finish his little script, though, because you opened the door.

He froze mid-sentence, eyes wide as he looked at you, realizing you clearly heard him talking to himself. Fuck, that’s embarassing. Before he could spiral about how much you had heard, he noticed the way your nose was red at the end, eyes glossy, and cheeks stained with black smudges. You had been really crying.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, struck with the urge to reach out and wipe the water from your face.

“What do you want, Rafe?” You sniffled.

“I wanted to…I was…” Rafe was lost, any words he had planned completely left him at the gut wrenching sight of your tears.

He shuffled on his feet a little as you watched him with an unforgiving glare. He had to come up with something.

He extended the candy to you, “...bringing you this.”

“Thanks but that beer made me sick, I’m not really in a snacky mood,” you snipped.

He felt like a kitten coming to his owner with a present, only to be scolded for bringing a dead bird into the house.

“Right,” he tried to recover. “I just thought maybe you’d want to keep them up here so no one takes them.”

You sighed heavily as you quickly took the candy from him, no lingering graze of your hands like you’d done so many times before the night had taken this turn for the worse.

“Okay,” he exhales. “I didn’t come up here to give you the candy.”

“What did you come up here for then?” You huffed.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he admitted.

You turned from him, exasperated, and set the candy on the vanity across the room. He was tempted to follow you through the door frame, but he had the keen sense that he shouldn't push it, so he froze, feet inches from the threshold but not going over.

“And why wouldn’t I be okay?” You questioned, your back turned to him as you pulled a set of pajamas out of the top drawer, he swallowed any hope of seeing you change into them, knowing it was a delusional thought.

“Because of what Kelce said,” He brought his thumbnail up to his eyebrow, scratching a non-existent itch, desperate for something to do with his hands.

You turned quickly on your heel to face him, hands on your hips. The sudden shift in your features, from indifference to indignance, made him take a step back.

“What, did he say something?” You pressed.

“About how you, y’know used to-” 

“Rafe, I’m fine,” you cut him off, rubbing the backs of your hands across your cheeks to get some of the smeared makeup off.

Even though you always knew deep in your gut that he knew how you used to feel about him, the thought of him actually saying it out loud as you stood in front of him with tear stained cheeks was unbearable to you.

“But you’re crying,” he uttered, eyebrows bunched in concern. “I don’t want you to be alone, crying in your room all night.”

You stepped closer to him, and his heart leapt. Maybe you would invite him in, let him hold you until you felt better. But then, as quickly as it had risen, his heart fell again. You placed your hand on the door handle and glared at him.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

With a definitive click, you closed the door in his face.

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The patter of thick rain drops against your window is what finally roused you from your long sleep. You’d fallen asleep crying into your pillow, an old hobby you hadn’t practiced in years. The light coming through the window was dim, making you assume it was early morning, but when you checked your phone your eyes went wide at the time: 12:04pm.

You swung your legs over the bed with a groan, rising to look out the window. The sky was dark and angry, high waves foaming and crashing in the distance, a storm raging. The rain was so heavy the window was straining to keep it out.

When you opened your bedroom door, you nearly stepped on the tray of food that was sitting outside it. You leaned down and picked up the tray of scrambled eggs, toast and orange juice, smiling at the little note in your sister’s handwriting: “I’m so glad you’re here, we’re downstairs when you’re ready.” She signed it with a little heart.

After eating the breakfast in your bed, you steeled yourself to finally make your appearance downstairs. You were grateful that everyone had let you sleep in, but wondered if the delay in coming downstairs would only remind them of the dramatic way your night ended.

You placed your dishes in the kitchen sink, looking out at the backyard you’d fled so abruptly the night before. It was quite a different scene than the one you’d left, the pouring rain filling the porch with puddles, chairs strewn about from the heavy wind. You let last night play through your mind like a movie; Carter revealing your most scandalous moment during never have I ever, Tom’s big arms on either side of you as he flirted, Rafe’s hands in yours as you celebrated your beer pong dominance, Kelce’s words bringing all your fun to a screeching halt.

“No! Don’t shoot!” 

Yells from the large den adjacent to the kitchen pulled you from your thoughts. You padded quickly into the room to find the source of the commotion.

“That guy was on our team!” Kelce yelled again, ripping a video game controller from Maddie’s hands.

Maddie just laughed at his frustration, “well I didn’t like him so I killed him.”

“That’s not how the game works, Mads,” Kelce scolded.

“Well that’s how I play,” she shrugged, leaning back on the couch.

Several people were piled onto the oversized sectional sofa. Carter was sitting up on the cushion with her legs criss-crossed, Topper on the floor in front of her while she put little braids in his hair. Tom and Kelce sat on the other side of Maddie, eyes locked on the small TV screen as their fingers rapidly tapped on the controller buttons, deeply invested in the game.

In the far corner sat Rafe, reading something on his phone with a concerned look on his face.

“Love the hair, Topper,” you said from behind the couch. 

Everyone’s eyes shot to you, except for Rafe, who stayed caught up in whatever was on his screen. You found his indifference to your arrival annoying, but also intriguing, wondering what had captured his attention so fully.

“You’re up!” Carter exclaimed, accidentally pulling Topper’s hair as she turned to you, making him wince.

“I’ve been up for a while, just needed some quiet time,” you smiled at her. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Actually, that was all Kelce,” she informed you with a knowing smirk.

“Oh really?” You said, raising your eyebrows at Kelce.

He paused the video game and stood from the couch.

“Wait!” Kelce said. “I have one more thing!”

He ran out of the room and you looked back at Carter with a smirk.

“You better not let him off the hook too easily,” Carter encouraged you.

“Don’t worry, I plan to mess with him a little,” you smiled at her conspiratorially. “Everyone just act cool.”

They all nodded at you, shifting when Kelce re-entered the room. Their attempted acting skills were adorably terrible, pretending to ignore you and Kelce, suddenly very invested in their own hands and the stains on the couch. All but Rafe, who seemed genuinely disinterested in the whole thing, eyes still glued to his phone.

Kelce approached you with his hands behind his back, looking bashful. He revealed his present with a proud flair.

It was a bouquet of wilting flowers, and a couple of weeds, he had clearly pulled from the front yard. You smiled at the sad, but sweet, present.

“I picked them this morning,” he said proudly.

You didn’t take them from him just yet, tightening your lips to hide your smile so he’d think you were still mad at him.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that thing about-”

“It’s okay Kelce,” you cut him off before he could elaborate further. “What you said…you were right.”

These words finally pulled Rafe from his phone, head snapping towards you in surprise. The rest of the group struggled to maintain their little charade of indifference, the air in the room shifting as they all silently met eyes, wondering where you were going with this.

“I did stay at those parties for a boy,” you admitted to Kelce.

Carter coughed to disguise a laugh, figuring out your game before anyone else.

“You did?” Kelce asked. 

You stepped closer to him, placing your hand on his arm. His eyes widened and he swallowed heavily.

“For you Kelce,” you whispered. “It’s always been you.”

Topper, Maddie, and Tom seemed to finally catch up with your plan as they tried to stifle their own laughter. Kelce had exactly the dumbstruck reaction you were hoping for, looking alarmed, stammering for words like an idiot.

“Me? You liked me?” He croaked, almost too stunned to speak.

You couldn’t hold it back any longer, his face looked so pathetically shocked you had to laugh. As soon as you cracked a smile, the group took it as a sign they could laugh now too, breaking into a round of giggles at Kelce’s expense. Even Rafe was smirking, looking back to his phone, but not before letting out a soft chuckle.

Kelce looked around helplessly, catching on painfully slowly.

“C’mon man,” he said when it finally dawned on him that you were kidding. “You really had me going there, I'm not gonna lie.”

You took the flowers from him finally, patting his cheek reassuringly.

“I can’t stay mad at you, Kelcey,” you reassured him.

“You forgive me then?” He asked hopefully.

“As long as you promise never to play beer pong again,” you countered, handing him back the flowers. “And you go put these back outside, there’s bugs in them.”

He took the bouquet from you with a dutiful nod and made his way to the front door.

“You gonna forgive Sabrina, too?” Carter questioned.

“No,” you scoffed, settling on the couch next to her. “She can rot.”

“You’re fun,” Maddie giggled. “Who knew you were so fun?”

I did, Rafe thought.

“I did,” Carter said.

The wind kicked up outside the tall windows, a loud clap of thunder causing you to jump in your seat.

“Y’all think I’m gonna be able to work on my tan today?” Tom quipped, an attempt to ease your nerves.

“I don’t think you need it,” you flirted with him, admiring the dimples in his cheeks as he smiled back at you.

Rafe shifted uncomfortably in his seat, finally putting his phone down and sticking it in his pocket.

“What are we gonna do today, though?” Maddie asked.

“I think you’re looking at it,” Topper spread his arms to gesture to the room.

“Good thing you’re so good at this game,” Kelce teased her, re-entering the room and jumping over the couch, making Carter bounce and lose her grip on the braid she had been carefully sowing into Topper’s hair.

“Dammit, Kelce!” She scolded. “We’ve been stuck inside for half a day and I’m already annoyed with you.”

“We could go see a movie,” you suggested hopefully, the idea of a calm afternoon in a dark theater with a big bucket of popcorn exciting you.

“No can do,” Topper explained. “The road is closed because of the flooding, we’re stuck here for the day. Jack and Sabrina went out for breakfast and they can’t even get back into the neighborhood.”

“Oh, okay” you frowned, bummed that your plan was foiled, but not that Sabrina had struck such bad luck.

Rafe didn’t miss the way your lips curved down with disappointment. 

After leaving your room last night, he’d stayed awake for hours, staring at the unfinished basement ceiling trying desperately to think of a way to get back in your good graces. The finality with which you’d shut your door on him made his stomach churn, wondering if he’d finally messed things up with you for good. But it was only your third day here, and he was a gamer; he didn’t quit and he didn’t lose. He decided he would take any opening he could get, and this seemed like a good place to start.

“We could watch a movie here,” he recommended. “We’ll make some popcorn and have our own theater.”

You looked at him for the first time since last night, surprised he was speaking to you, and even more surprised he was being so positive and helpful.

“Can we do it right now? I hate this game,” Maddie complained.

“I’d be down,” Tom agreed.

“Oh, uh,” Rafe sat up, catching Topper’s eye. “I have that thing I gotta do.”

Topper nodded knowingly, “yeah, we should wait until it gets dark anyway,” he agreed, giving Rafe an out.

You were dying to know what they were referring to, what possible responsibility could be tying Rafe down when he’d be stuck in a vacation home all day, but you feigned disinterest. 

It was decided, you’d all meet back here at dusk for your movie night. You had the perfect excuse to finally get some alone time, assuring Carter you were fine before going back to your room, slipping under the cool covers with a smile and pulling out the book you still hadn’t had time to start.

It was such a pleasant afternoon until the plot of your book started to feel a little too familiar for your comfort.  A love triangle between the shy, bookworm protagonist, a sweet, unassuming brunette, and a complicated, brooding blond. You finally shut the book about a hundred pages in, when the blond character, who was continuously breaking the protagonist’s heart, stood her up for a date. You sighed and threw the book back into your suitcase, adding it to your DNF list on Goodreads.

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Carter was sitting on the counter, swinging her legs happily as Topper stood at the stove and added spices to the soup he was making. You stood at the bottom of the stairs for a minute, watching them as long as you could before they noticed your presence. It was a rare moment of calm between them, no arguments or teasing. Topper blew on a spoonful of his soup before lifting it to Carter’s lips. She smiled at him affectionately as he thumbed the corner of her mouth, catching the little drop of soup that had spilled off the spoon.

Your heart warmed at your sister’s smile. She was not a relationship girl, or so she always swore. But you knew her feelings for Topper went far beyond a penchant for messing with him. You were struck with sadness that she would be leaving so soon, studying abroad in the UK to get her masters. Maybe you should’ve spent the afternoon with her, instead of a book you hated.

The door to the basement creaked open, and Rafe stepped out, looking grumpy as he unknowingly interrupted the sweet moment in the kitchen. 

Carter leaned away from Topper when she noticed Rafe, and finally saw you. You spotted the way Topper’s face fell a little as she pulled away.

“Needs salt,” she teased him.

“Yes chef,” he smiled back, though there was a hint of resentment in his tone.

Carter hopped down off the counter and walked over to you, wrapping her arm around you like you hadn’t seen each other in years. You squeezed her affectionately, hoping she could feel the love you had for her in your touch.

She pulled away, eyeing Rafe. He had bags under his eyes and he looked worn out.

“Where have you been all day?” Carter asked him.

“Just had to take care of a few things,” he ran his hands through his hair, which it appeared he had been doing a lot based on the way it was sticking up at different angles. 

As he brought his hands back to his side, you caught a quick glimpse of the pen ink that was smeared on his fingers, only adding to the mystery of what “things” he was taking care of.

You were going to teasingly ask him if he was down there writing the great American novel, but before you could, the large french doors that lead to the den swung open dramatically, Tom standing behind them with a big grin on his face.

“All ready!” He announced it to the group.

“What’s ready?” You asked, an amused smirk at his theatrics.

“Come see for yourself,” he winked at you.

You followed him curiously into the den, the rest of the group trailing behind. Your jaw dropped when you took it all in. He had transformed the big den, setting up a large projector and screen, stringing little fairy lights from the ceiling and filling the side tables with popcorn, candy, and a variety of snacks. The room even smelled good, Tom having lit some candles, and with the rain still coming down outside, the cozy vibes were off the charts.

“You did all this?” You gushed.

“Well you seemed bummed that we couldn’t go to the theater,” Tom remarked. “So I brought the theater to you!”

Thinking that might just be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you, you gave Tom a big, grateful smile. Rafe muttered words under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out but sounded something like “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Woah, where’d you find the projector?” Kelce asked.

“They said it was in the attic,” Tom pointed out. “On the Airbnb listing.”

You didn’t understand why, but something about Tom being the only one to actually read the whole listing and pay attention to the details was attractive. You suddenly wished there weren’t five other people in the room with you and him.

“The only thing I haven’t done is pick the movie,” Tom admitted.

The group started chattering all at once, throwing out suggestions and arguing over each other’s taste in movies. After a few chaotic moments, Tom mentioned the name of a horror movie that had come out recently, and while the rest of the room chimed in with “ohhh yes” and “I’ve wanted to see that one,” your stomach dropped. You hated scary movies, you always had. Since you were a kid, you felt anything you watched or read very deeply, so when a movie was dark, it affected you emotionally.

Feeling helpless, your eyes inadvertently met Rafe’s. He immediately picked up on the way you were chewing your lip, afraid to protest to what everyone else clearly wanted. 

Shit that’s right, he thought, she hates scary movies. 

Plus, he knew you’d be teased for saying something, this group was fun but they weren’t known for their sensitivity. Your eyes dropped to the floor in acceptance, all of your excitement over the home theater fading as you settled in for an unpleasant evening. Rafe hated the way you were forced to resign to being unhappy for everyone else’s sake.

“Nah, I don’t fuck with horror movies,” he blurted out impulsively.

All eyes shot to him, most people laughing in assumption he was making a joke. When he didn’t laugh back, but clenched his jaw and stared them down, they fell silent.

“Bro, since when?” Topper asked hesitantly.

“Since forever,” Rafe doubled down.

“You scared, Cameron?” Kelce teased.

“So what if I am?” Rafe bit back, daring him to keep going.

“Hey man, that’s cool,” Tom assured him. “It’s not for everybody. We can just watch something else.”

It was like your heart was strung up with the fairy lights above you, Rafe and Tom grabbing either end of the cord and playing tug-of-war. Just when Tom did something so sweet you thought you might kiss him right here in front of everyone, Rafe jumped in to rescue you from ridicule, proving he remembered intimate details about you in the process, making your heart ache for him. Then Tom said something kind, and you were right back where you started. This wasn’t getting any easier.

Rafe could see the way your eyes flicked between him and Tom, he knew he needed to step it up even more. He rounded the couch and approached Tom’s laptop, which was plugged into the projector. He typed something into the streaming site that was pulled up and the projector whirred to life, the screen illuminating the room as the opening credits of a movie began.

It was your favorite movie of all time. Your heart swelled at the opening song that you’d know anywhere, this having been your comfort film since you were a kid. Rafe stared right at you as the rest of the group settled on the couch, no one wanting to argue with his choice. Your eyes went soft as you looked back at him, mouthing a silent thank you, just like you had done by the fire last night. You were astonished that he remembered how much you loved this movie.

“Perfect, I love this movie!” Tom exclaimed, pulling your gaze from Rafe.

Of course he does, you thought tenderly, your crush on Tom intensifying.

Of course he does, Rafe thought resentfully, his vexation with Tom boiling his blood.

As everyone took their seats, you hung back for a moment, taking in the whole scene and trying to clear your head. By the time your feet caught up with your brain, there was only one spot left on the big couch.

Carter and Topper settled in on the chaise, shamelessly cuddling up almost immediately. Kelce and Maddie sat next to them, sharing a bowl of popcorn. Then it was Tom, an empty spot, and Rafe. You considered sitting on the floor.

Standing between them, both boys looked up at you expectantly, shifting away from each other to make more space for you, both hopeful you’d sit a little closer to them than the other. You thought of the protagonist from the book you were reading, wishing you could take her out for a drink. 

Finally, you took your seat, crossing your legs and placing your hands in your lap. You turned and looked at Carter, who was smiling back at you sympathetically. She looked like she was about to get up from the comfort of Topper’s arms, but you didn’t want to interrupt their time together, so you waved her off and settled back on the couch to prove you were fine.

The movie began, roaring through the speakers Tom had set up, and you were quickly distracted by the familiar sights and sounds of your favorite film.

Rafe’s eyes flicked over to you every so often, melting at the cute way you were mouthing the lines along with the actors, laughing at funny scenes even though you’d seen them a million times. He was trying to respect your space, but eventually he needed to stretch out his long legs, spreading them so his knee was almost knocking into yours. He wouldn’t touch you though, no matter how much he wanted to. It seemed maybe he had almost secured your forgiveness and he wasn’t about to push his luck.

Tom wasn’t in such a difficult position though, his arm fearlessly brushing against yours as he reached for a bowl of popcorn and offered you some.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly.

“Do you like this movie?” He whispered, leaning in a bit too close for Rafe’s comfort.

“It’s my all-time favorite,” you told him.

“I’m glad we picked it then.”

We? Rafe seethed. This whole movie night was his idea in the first place, and once again, here was Casanova sweeping in and stealing away your attention. 

Rafe thought he couldn’t hate him more, and then Tom put his arm around you.

Anything, he would’ve given anything, done anything, to hear you tell Tom to fuck off. But you didn’t. You blushed and shifted a bit, nestling into Tom’s side and tucking your legs under you. 

Your feet, covered in pink fuzzy socks, were just inches from Rafe’s leg, tormenting him. They nudged him every so often when you laughed at the film or leaned in to whisper something to Tom. He got excited for just a moment the first time you touched him, but his heart cracked when it dawned on him that while you were touching him by accident, you were touching Tom on purpose.

Even though he was tempted to storm out, your obvious rejection of him nearly unbearable, he forced himself to play it cool and stay through to the end credits. 

The screen faded to black, and everyone stirred and stretched. You sat up from Tom’s side and looked over to your sister, surprised she hadn’t pulled out her phone and texted you something cheeky about him during the movie, but quickly realized it was because she had fallen asleep. Her hair was messy in her face as little snores escaped her lips. The only person looking at her with more affection than you was Topper, who scooped her up in his arms with ease and a peck on the cheek, and carried her to bed.

“Okay, so that was the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Maddie said as she and Kelce followed them out of the room.

Rafe sighed as he saw the mess that had been left behind, kneeling down to sweep up the popcorn Kelce had spilled on the floor. He felt the small window of hope that he’d somehow reconnect with you today close as you exited the room.

Feeling just as tired as Carter looked and eager to crawl into bed, you made your way toward the stairs. Tom caught up with you before you took the first step, saying your name softly to get your attention.

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” he said when you turned.

“Me too,” you told him, blushing bashfully. “Though I don’t think anyone had quite as good a time as Carter.”

“You’re probably right.” He had gotten closer, leaning towards you as he said it, close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin, “the night’s not over yet, though.”

Heat swept across your cheeks and down your back as your whole body blushed. You had really enjoyed your time on the couch snuggled up next to him, but you were a notoriously slow mover when it came to new guys. You thought you might kiss him goodbye at the end of the week, maybe get his number, but that was as far as your imagination had wandered. You’d hooked up with guys at school, and you were certainly more confident with every year that passed, but you had accepted about yourself that you would always be a little slower than other girls, and that was okay with you.

“It’s not?” You asked, hating the shaky nervousness in your voice.

“Maybe I could carry you up to your room, too,” he propositioned.

With that suggestion, he leaned in to kiss you. Your whole body went numb and a nervous hum escaped your throat. You flinched slightly right before his lips met yours, signaling him to pause.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as he pulled back.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“It’s just, a little fast,” you explained. “I’m really enjoying getting to know you, though. I tend to move slow.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” he continued. “Maybe I could just crash in your room? I’m sharing with Kelce and he snores.”

“The couch is pretty comfortable, you could sleep there,” you stepped away from him a bit, voice firmer. 

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” he flirted again, not letting up. 

“It’s not gonna happen tonight,” you told him definitively. “We can definitely hang out tomorrow, though.”

He eyed you for a second, and your skin crawled with the feeling you were being studied.

“Sure,” he muttered, the softness you usually saw in his eyes was nowhere to be found. “Night.”

As he shuffled up the stairs without another glance to you, you saw that Rafe had been standing in the doorway of the den, for how long you weren’t sure. His hands were full of dirty dishes as he eyed you anxiously.

“All good?” He questioned.

You wanted to put up a front, make a joke to wipe the protective, caring look off of Rafe’s face, but your spirit was a bit shaken, and if you were being honest, you were just glad not to be alone. 

Instead of answering, you reached out, took some of the dishes from his hands and walked them to the kitchen sink. Your wordlessness was an indication that you didn’t want to talk about it any further, so he didn’t push.

Rafe washed and you dried, completely silent as you did the dishes together. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though, just an understanding between you that nothing more needed to be said tonight. You were immensely grateful to have something to do with your hands, a task to focus on as you recovered from the upsetting interaction you’d had with Tom.

Once Rafe handed you the last bowl, he bid you goodnight quietly and descended the stairs to his room. You dried the bowl and reached it toward the high cabinet it belonged in, but nearly dropped when you heard a loud “fuck!” come from the basement.

You set the dish down carefully before hurrying down the stairs towards the sound of Rafe’s distress.

“What’s wrong?” You asked breathlessly as you descended the creaking steps.

Rafe stepped back to show you the cause of his outcry. Sometime in the evening a leak had sprung from the edge of the basement ceiling, running down the wall and right onto his bed. The rain had stopped about an hour ago, and though it didn’t appear the water was flowing in anymore, the damage was done.

“Fuck,” you echoed him.

Rafe moved his luggage and backpack to the stairs to get them off the ground, and pulled the bed away from the wall.

“I’ll just sleep with my head on the other end of the bed,” he sighed.

“Rafe, you can’t sleep down here,” you countered. “I found some extra blankets and pillows in my closet, I’ll get them for you and you can crash on the couch.”

He nodded in agreement, “thanks.”

Rafe followed you up to your room, stopping at the threshold of your door, just like he had last night. You smiled to yourself at the respectfulness of the action. Though it proved to be unsustainable when you slid open your closet door and tried to get the blanket and pillow stored on the top shelf, unable to reach it even when you jumped.

“Can you help me?” You sighed, indirectly inviting him in. 

Rafe smirked as he approached, barely having to stretch to reach the bedding. Your throat bobbed as you watched him, his frame so long and lean it towered over you. 

“Thanks for these,” he looked down at you, holding the pillow and blanket to his chest with crossed arms.

“Least I could do,” you smiled. “After you saved me again.”

Rafe furrowed his brows quizzically.

“You hate horror movies, huh?” You quirked your eyebrows.

“Oh,” he mumbled, realization sweeping across his face. “No. But you do.”

“And you just really wanted to watch that particular movie instead?”

“No. But you did.”

The room suddenly felt too hot, as you bantered, your voices dropped lower, and so did Rafe’s eyes, landing on your lips. 

Not sure you could stand this close to him much longer without making a decision you might regret, you stepped away and over to your vanity. You unclasped your necklace and started removing your rings, preparing to begin your nighttime routine. You caught Rafe’s eyes in the mirror as he watched you take your hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall around your face in a soft curtain.

Rafe cleared his throat and looked down, digging his foot into your rug. You swore you caught a blush kiss the apples of his cheeks.

 “Well what are you doin’ right now? Wanna hang out?” He croaked.

You smiled at his desperate attempt to keep the conversation going. It was reminiscent of the way you used to search your mind for more questions to ask to keep him on the phone, or pretend you needed to run errands so he’d be in your car longer. Now, here he was, looking at you with big, hopeful eyes, completely desperate. The power shift was electrifying, a newfound dominance rushed through you. You had him right where you wanted, and you couldn’t help but milk it. 

“I’m feeling pretty tired.” You turned to him and faked a yawn, stretching your arms up, the bottom of your t-shirt rising to reveal just a sliver of skin, his eyes catching it immediately. “I think I’m just gonna get ready for bed now.”

He stood across the dimly lit room, every muscle in his body fighting against his attempt to stay in place. You held back a smug smile when you saw he was actually making tight fists to keep from reaching his hands toward you.

This would be all he would ever get, he thought. Just these little moments when his eyes caught slivers of your perfect skin. The tops of your sun kissed shoulders in your swimsuit. The brief hint of a dimple on your lower back when you bent to get a beer from the cooler. The curve of your hips in the tight jeans you wore today.

If this was all he’d get, that would be okay. He’d collect the memories of these moments like rare coins, only to be pulled out on special occasions. If these teases of what it might be like to be with you for real were all you’d ever give him, he’d make do. 

And just as he made himself that promise, you reached down and pulled at the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head in one motion, tossing it to the floor. 

You were wearing a black bra with a little white bow right where the cups met between your breasts, and he could see the top of your black lace panties barely peeking out of the waistband of your jeans. 

Rafe’s face flushed and his shoulders tensed as he looked you up and down, eyes wide with surprise at how bold you were being. His large body cast a long shadow on the wall, but something about the desperation on his face made him seem so small, so vulnerable. The rush of power felt unbelievable and you wondered how far you could push him before he snapped.

Without breaking the heated eye contact between you, you slowly unbuttoned your jeans and dipped your thumbs under the waistband, pulling them down and over your feet.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Rafe finally choked out, unable to stay silent any longer.

“I’m getting ready for bed,” you shrugged innocently. “And you’re getting ready to leave.”

Your words were pushing him out, but your actions were freezing him in place. He had no idea what you really wanted from him, but he knew exactly what he wanted from you.

Before he could ask if you really wanted him to leave, you pulled back the covers of your bed and climbed in. Once under the sheets, the white linen covering you up to your shoulders, you shuffled a bit, making the blanket rustle with your movement. His brows furrowed in confusion, unsure what you were doing now. Then, your hand reached back out from under the covers and dropped your bra to the floor. More shuffling, and your panties followed, now only the plush duvet and silky sheets stood between Rafe and your completely bare body. Rafe cleared his throat as he felt himself straining against his board shorts.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, the blankets sliding slightly, stopping right before exposing your chest to him. He swallowed hard.

You looked at him, your face unassuming, like this was the most normal thing in the world. The way you were looking at him, he knew he would do anything you told him to, even if that meant you really were asking him to leave. He prayed to whatever god made the perfect creature in front of him that you’d ask him to stay. But you didn’t.

“Hit the lights on your way out?” You said, before laying back and letting your hair fan out over the pillows. You closed your eyes and moaned softly as you sunk into the plush bed.

He bit his lip as he watched you get comfortable, his heart pounding so hard he was sure you could hear it.

“Rafe?” you whispered, eyes still closed.

“Y-yeah?” He stammered.

“Goodnight,” you smiled, putting an end to any hope he had for an invitation to join you in the California King.

He sighed in defeat, “goodnight.”

With that, he walked toward the door, giving himself one last look at you, angelic and at peace in your pre-sleep. He hit the light switch and pulled the door closed softly behind him.

Rafe leaned against the door, one hand over his chest to feel his spiked heart rate, and one still clutching the door handle, unable to fully let go of it, of you. He felt lightheaded, the realization of how badly he wanted you washing over him, leaving him breathless. Why had he been such a dumbass in high school? He thought ruefully of that day senior year. If he had done just one thing differently, maybe he would be in bed next to you right now.

The thought of pulling your soft body into his, holding you under those cool sheets, nuzzling his head into your hair and inhaling the scent of you until you both fall into blissful sleep…he couldn’t remember ever wanting anything as bad as that. His want, his need, for you was too much to bear. 

He couldn’t bring himself to walk downstairs, and as much as he was dying to, he couldn't bring himself to go back into the room and risk your true rejection. As he toiled over his lack of choices, he sank to the floor, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He knew it was pathetic, sitting outside your door like a stray cat. He told himself he’d sit here for just five more minutes, enough time to collect his dignity.

He fell asleep on the floor thinking about the way your hair smells.

(chapter 5: part one)

a/n: thank you thank you thank you thank you for the support on this story! thank you to this anon for the move night idea which really helped solve some plot issues I was having I appreciate you!! in the original draft of this chapter, Tom suggested they watch Hellraiser 2022...is that too meta?

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