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tropes-and-tales · 1 year ago

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Good Girl

Day 2: Dry humping (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Idiots in love; praise kink; smut (dry humping; outercourse; whatever the youths call it now - clothed grinding and such); 18+ only.

Word Count: 2996

AN: This is loosely related to the very loosely-formed Seresin cousin mini-series, found here. It was requested for Kinktober by @justreblogginfics!)

You and Bob continue your little dance for months.

You know the man likes you. Every time you fly into town to visit your cousin Jake, Bob is always nearby, staring at you on the sly like a lovesick puppy. He’s always just at the edge of the group gatherings—nights at the Hard Deck, parties at Nat’s house, afternoons at the beach—and you always feel those big blue eyes tracking your movements.

Everyone else notices it. Harvard and Yale corner you at the Hard Deck, ask if you’ve noticed that you have an admirer. Nat pulls you aside at her barbeque and obliquely gives you a rundown of Bob’s numerous good traits. Only Jake holds his tongue, but you catch him narrowing his eyes at the WSO enough that you realize even your cousin—your cousin with his penchant for being self-centered, the handsome narcissist with the blinding smile—has noticed Bob’s crush too.

Bob never makes a move.

Nights at the Hard Deck when you blatantly lament being single. The party at Bob’s house where you stayed behind to help him clean up. The little touches you chance: brushing your hand against his, a light hand on his shoulder, friendly hugs…they are an invitation, but he doesn’t pick up on it.

It’s Rooster who clues you in. The man takes your hand one night at the bar and tugs you outside where the ocean crashes along the shore in the darkness. In the dim light, you can just make out the man as he peers down at you.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “But you’re going about it all wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You catch the white of his eyes as he rolls them. “C’mon. It’s obvious you like Bob, but you gotta make the move if you’re interested. You gotta be blatant with him. He won’t get it otherwise.”

“Why not?” Your stomach twists unpleasantly; you wonder if perhaps you’ve misread the situation. Maybe Bob has a crush, but maybe it’s just a crush, and maybe there’s someone else he loves and this is just a passing bit of madness—

“Guy’s a brilliant wizzo, but he’s clueless with women.”

Now you roll your eyes at Rooster, and he chuckles at the gesture.

“I’m serious!” he continues, and he holds his hands up, helpless. “I think he misread a situation once with a girl when he was younger, and I think it scared him off of making the first move.”

“That’s a terrible excuse. I got food poisoning from bad tacos once but I still eat tacos.”

Rooster chuckles again. “Yeah, but you women can be devastating when you reject us. I think poor Baby on Board was crushed before and now he’s just a pining little asshole, staring at you from across the bar.”

You shrug helplessly and glance back into the Hard Deck: you can see Bob in profile, and you get the impression that he’s just turned away, that he didn’t want to get caught watching you. Watching you and Rooster together, chatting outside, laughing outside. You feel a wave of sympathy for what Bob must be thinking—that you’re flirting with Rooster, that maybe Bob has missed his chance.

You turn back to the pilot. You square your shoulders. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll be the brave one.” A beat as anxiety blooms in your chest, makes your ribcage feel a fraction tighter, makes it just a bit harder to draw a full breath. “And you’re sure he likes me? You aren’t misreading this somehow? I don’t want to look like an idiot, Bradshaw.”

He laughs outright, and he hooks an arm around your neck to pull you into a friendly hug.

“Ah, kid, he loves you. You make the first move, he’ll probably go ring shopping next weekend,” he says, and he lays a smacking kiss on the side of your head before releasing you, shoving you gently back towards the bar.

-----

You may be confident, but that confidence doesn’t always extend into your romantic life. Still, you decide to be brave.

You make the first move.

When you go back into the Hard Deck, you notice that Bob seems quieter than usual, and you guess that he saw the hug, the friendly kiss between you and Rooster. You guess that he is drawing incorrect conclusions about what he thinks he saw, and you hate to think of him suffering needlessly.

You sidle up to him, and you feel another wave of tenderness towards the man when he turns to look at you—still with that soft smile on his face, a glimmer of hope in his eyes despite what he must be thinking.

“It’s too noisy in here,” you say close to his ear. “I was going to take a walk on the beach. Do you want to join me?”

The hope in his eyes turns blatant. “Really?”

“Yeah. You wanna go? C’mon.” You don’t give him a chance to stammer his way out of it; you thread your arm through his and tug him towards the door, and he follows you without any resistance.

You catch Rooster’s eye, then Nat’s as you leave. The former tips you a knowing wink. The latter gives you a nod, and she lifts her glass in a salute.

You don’t release him until you’re at the water’s edge, and you bend down to untie your sneakers and peel out of your socks. He hesitates a beat then joins you, and he rolls up the pants to his uniform so that his shins are bare.

The two of you walk along the shore in silence for a bit. It’s one of the things you like best about Bob—how he lacks the braggadocio to always talk, to always fill up every bit of silence with the sound of his own voice. You know he’s perhaps more shy than the average person, but he doesn’t seem undone by it. He seems comfortable just to be himself: quieter than most, willing to sit back and watch.

Case in point: you hold your shoes and socks in one hand, and you take his hand with your free one. Maybe he’s nervous, but his palm is warm and dry, not sweaty or twitchy. If he’s nervous, it’s not obvious.

And he breaks the silence, after a while.

“Growing up in the Midwest, I never even saw the ocean until I enlisted,” he says.

“Same,” you reply. “I mean, growing up in Texas, we went to Galveston a few times, but that was technically the Gulf, not the ocean.”

“You like it?”

You feel the water lapping around your ankles, the give of the sand underneath your soles. “I do,” you admit. “There’s something really peaceful about it, and I love poking around at low tide and looking for sea glass.”

He glances at you, and you can hear the teasing in his voice when he replies, “I’m gonna tell Hangman that his cousin only visits him because he’s stationed along the coast.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you even realize you’re saying them. “Maybe I only visit Jake because I like one of his coworkers.”

The light-hearted feeling of the moment deflates; Bob goes silent. He takes a beat to reply, and when he does, his voice sounds strained.

“Bradley.” It comes out curt, two quick syllables. A statement, not a question.

You shake your head, let out a grumble of disagreement. Up ahead, you can see the outline of a lifeguard station, painted white and rising ghostly out of the night. You want to sit with him and finally talk with him, so you tug his hand and lead him there. The two of you sit on the steps, side by side, hips touching and facing the ocean.

“Not Bradley,” you tell him as you pick up the thread of the conversation.

“I saw you tonight��”

You shake your head again, cut him off. “He wanted to talk to me,” you tell Bob. “About you.”

You feel him go rigid beside you, and he huffs out a frustrated breath. If there was more light, you’d see the furious blush that breaks out across his face, but it’s dark enough that you can only guess at his embarrassment.

And now that you’ve opened the Pandora’s box, you can hardly take it back, so you plunge forward. Usually confident, you’re glad for the darkness too—you hope it hides your shaky hands, your inability to turn and meet his eyeline.

“I think you’re great, Bobby. Honestly. I thought you were handsome the moment I met you, but then I got to know you, and you’re quiet but you’re funny and sweet, and I was giving all these signs that I was into you, but nothing…I mean, I like you a lot and it’s just…” You trail off, lose your words like an idiot. You hadn’t enough time to rehearse this in your head; you just grabbed him at the Hard Deck and dragged him out here, and now you’re fumbling it completely. You drop your head and swipe your sweaty palms along the sides of your shorts, and you take a deep breath—

You hear his soft “hey,” and then a split second later you feel his warm hand on your face, tilting your head up and turning you to face him, but nothing on earth could prepare you for the way Bob Floyd kisses: gentle but firm, only a bit hesitant. His lips are soft, and he breathes out a quiet groan when you reach up and lay your own hand along the side of his neck.

Your thoughts go fuzzy. Your concentration—all the words you were fumbling to say—is shot, but when you try to break the kiss to finish what you were saying, Bob shakes his head faintly and mumbles against you lips.

“I know,” he says, and you can hear his accent breaking through. “I know, honey. Me too.”

Then he kisses you again, firmer this time, and a moment later, when he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you open yourself to him, allow him to taste you. You taste him too, and Bob Floyd tastes like the grenadine-laced Coke he nurses each night at the Hard Deck, never much of a drinker even on the rowdiest night.

If nothing could prepare you for the way he kisses, then certainly nothing could prepare you for how sweetly dominant he is, how perfectly he walks the line between gentlemanly and not. Your clumsy confession must have given him the wherewithal to take charge, and you’re surprised when he puts a hand on your waist and gently urges you to turn towards him…then how he just as gently urges you to climb onto his lap.

It doesn’t take much urging, you find. You’ve been ravenous for months for this exact moment, and you had thought it’d never come. You break away long enough to study his face—this close, and with the faint light of the half-moon in the sky above you, you can see his wide blue eyes, his parted lips as he gazes back at you. You don’t see any hesitancy in his expression at all, but then he breathes out, “please, honey” and he squeezes your waist, so you clamber onto him with no grace whatsoever, but neither of you care because the moment you’re settled on him, you bend your head to kiss him again.

As it turns out, maybe Bob was just as ravenous for this moment too. He puts his other hand on your waist too, draws you closer to him, and you can feel the nudge and brush of his growing erection against your inner thigh. He makes a strangled, pained sort of groan in the back of his throat the first time you touch him there, and his hands spasm on your waist, grip you tighter before he schools himself and apologizes.

You break the kiss, slow the moment down. You cup his face between your palms and hold him steady, tilt his face up towards yours.

“Bobby, why didn’t you ever say anything?” you whisper.

He shakes his head against your hold and offers you a rueful grin. “Didn’t think you were interested.”

You snort and press a light kiss to his forehead, then another few to his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You can feel how flushed he is under your lips.

“You think I just randomly hang back at parties to help the host clean up?” you tease. You shift your head, whisper the words in his ear, and you note how he squirms under you. He’s growing harder, even at your playful kisses.

“Just thought…ah, just thought y-you were bein’ nice.” His accent comes out stronger, and his hands squeeze you tighter again before he loosens his grip. “You’re always so…so nice to everyone.”

“I’m nicest to you,” you point out. You kiss a trail along the line of his neck, and he tilts his head to grant you the space. At his pulse point, you can feel his heartbeat thundering away there, so you bare your teeth and nip him—not enough to hurt or even sting, but he groans out “shit, honey” and wraps a strong arm around your waist, hauls you right up against where he’s straining against his uniform for you. His other hand finds the back of your neck, and he draws you to him, kisses you breathless as he guides you against him, sets a steady, rocking motion against him.

It's too much: the way his clothed erection hits you just right, how he pushes you back and forth, over and over, until you are so wet that you’re certain you’ve soaked through your panties and your shorts. Everything feels sensitive, swollen, but he keeps guiding you, lifts his own hips in time to the rhythm he sets. It’s too much but it’s not nearly enough, and you wish you’d known how this entire evening was going to unravel because you would have just taken him home instead—

“This good?” he asks. His face is tucked against your neck; you’re a fraction higher than him, perched in his lap, and he works his mouth almost lazily against your neck, your throat, the underside of your jaw. He has one arm around your waist, holding you tight to him, but his other hand settles against your ass, kneads you there, digs his fingertips into the fat of your ass like he wants to own you.

You start to make a joke about being surprised to find he’s an ass man, but then he dips his head, works an open-mouthed kiss right where the swell of your breasts begin. You whine at the sensation and thread your fingers through his hair. You hold him there, and the desire coursing through you—the sharp ache between your thighs, the prickly-hot flush across your skin—makes you feel fuzzy, light-headed. You remember he asked you a question, so you answer him, nod hard and mumble yes, he’s making you feel good, he’s making you feel amazing, but what about him?

“Don’t worry about me.” He nips at your collarbone, runs his tongue along the line of it, dips his tongue into the divot at the base of your throat. “Wanna make you come, honey.”

Hearing those words come from his mouth makes your desire rachet up higher, hotter. You grip his hair harder, whine out his name, but then he adds, “you gonna be my good girl and come for me?”

There’s no way he could have known of your praise kink, so it’s just a lucky guess, but the unexpected phrase—my good girl…fuck if it doesn’t make you cock-drunk and stupid. No other guy really ever cracked the code of that kink for you. A few had made half-hearted attempts when you mentioned it, but Bob Floyd stumbles over it immediately, and your mind goes blissfully blank: yes, you want to be his good girl. Yes, you want to come for him. Whatever he wants. Anything he wants. Everything he wants.

You let go of your hold on his hair, and you cup his face again, tilt his head up so you can kiss him. “Yes,” you whisper just before you slot your mouth over his, push your tongue against his, kiss him so deeply that you’re sharing the same breath, mapping the inside of his mouth with your tongue, memorizing every bit of him you can. Yes, yes. Yes to all of it.

Mind blank, your pleasure overtakes you: you feel the heat and friction from where he sets you grinding against him, you feel the bulge of his cock hitting you perfectly, and every bit of him—his subtle cologne, the soft feel of his hair, the quiet little groans he makes, the flex of his muscles as he holds you—pushes you close to the edge. You teeter there, you ride him faster, the seam of your shorts pressing deliciously against your swollen clit, but it’s his words that push you over. His quietly domineering orders.

“Come for me,” he whispers, and it’s a harsh, punched-out sound that makes your stomach swoop when you hear it. “My good, sweet girl. Come for me.”

Your orgasm breaks around you like a wave, and Bob releases his hold on your ass to draw you closer to him, let you ride it out as you shudder against him. Both arms wrapped around your waist as pleasure sparks outward from your core, travels up your spine and courses through your limbs until your head is swimming and he’s tucking you against him.

“That’s it,” he whispers into your hair. “Good girl. So fucking good for me.”

And all you can respond with is yes, yes. Only for you, Bobby.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #tropes and tales #kinktober 2023

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astranva · 1 year ago

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Instagram Live

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

Summary: Harry joins his girlfriend’s Instagram live.

There were a lot of labels that people never seemed to like.

There were relationship labels that people fought over, sexuality labels that every media outlet liked to plaster, and scandalous labels that could break a royal’s reputation.

However, your label as Harry’s girlfriend was one that you actually seemed to enjoy.

Harry’s normal girlfriend.

Sure, you were called “Harry Styles’ girlfriend” more times than you were called by your own name ever since you became public three years ago, but if there was anything you felt like you had bragging rights about, it would be that you managed to form a connection with his fans for being yourself, and especially on TikTok.

It came as a surprise to many and most when people caught up to the woman Harry seemed so infatuated with that he was grinning some more, directing sappy lyrics to on stage, and going shopping with at places that weren’t Gucci. You were relatable.

Your TikToks were international treasure, especially ones where you pranked Harry or participated in couple challenges with, so it was no surprise that even your Instagram harbored some following who were instantly excited and urgent to join once they had got the notification.

yourinstagram started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

Clad in a black Pleasing crewneck, hair up in a microfiber towel, your legs were pushed up slightly against your chest as you painted your nails, peaking to see you already had 14,374 viewers.

“Helloooo,” you dragged, smiling once you saw the excited comments coming through.

user1: OMG HEY BESTIE

user2: PLEASING

user3: NO WAY YOU’RE LIVE

user4: hey, y/n! how are you doing?

“I’m doing okay,” you answered, sighing a little, “Just taking a quick break from studying and thought we could have a chat.”

user5: you’re still studying?

user6: OMG SAY HI ANGELA PLS

user7: @/user she’s getting a master’s degree where have u been

user8: do you miss harry?

“Hi Angela,” you smiled, “Yeah, I’m getting my master’s degree. Guys, I literally forgot how awful exams and assignments were because I graduated like, four years ago, so I don’t miss it,” you said, “Do I miss Harry? No, of course not. I don’t know who that is.”

user9: STOP DID THEY BREAK UP?

user10: I hope you’re joking

user11: NOT YALL BELIEVING HER ALKJWKJFH

You chuckled, “Some of you are new here, huh?”

user9: Y/N HARRY IS WATCHING

user12: HARRY

user8: HARRY IS WATCHING WEIFWEFH

harrystyles: Boo. You miss me.

user13: NO FUCKING WAYYYYY

You laughed, “You’re going to break them.”

user2: I CAN’T BREATHE

harrystyles: Oops.

harrystyles: Have you eaten?

user14: PLSSSS I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M SEEING THIS

“Yeah, I-Oh my God, H, I made one the best salads ever. It had chicken, like grilled chicken, and I had bell peppers, corn, lettuce, cherry tomatoes, red beans, onions,” you counted on your fingers, “Then I made this creamy avocado dressing. It was so fucking good.”

user4: share the recipe bestie

harrystyles: Yum. Can’t wait to try it when I see you.

harrystyles: Breakfast?

“Yeah, I had breakfast, too,” you nodded, “Butter toasts and those olives we got from Italy,” you said, “What about you? Are you eating well?”

user5: I can’t believe we’re witnessing this

user15: it’s like they’re on the phone together

user16: I want to sit on a highway

harrystyles: We had tacos! 🌮

You gasped jokingly, “Did you actually eat tacos because I was telling you about how much I’ve been craving them yesterday?”

paulithepsm: Y/NNNNNNN

user7: PAULI IS HERE

harrystyles: Yes. Hehe.

“Pauli!” You grinned, “I missed you too much!” You were beaming before pointing a finger at the screen, “Same doesn’t go for you though, H. I can’t believe you ate tacos without me.”

harrystyles: PAULI

user8: KEHFKWJE CRYING

paulithepsm: HARRY

paulithepsm: I miss my best friend 😭😭

user18: PLS

harrystyles: I’m sorry. I’ll make you tacos when you get here. Promise.

harrystyles: Show me your nails.

You showed your freshly painted nails to the screen, “Some Citrico Vibrante Cremoso greens,” you showed them off, “Buy Pleasing,” you teased, “Or find more affordable dupes, babes.”

user6: PLSSSS SHE’S SO REAL FOR THAT

harrystyles: I’ll match with you.

“You can wait until I come. I’ll paint them for you,” you said.

harrystyles: OKAY ❤

user3: HE’S SO CUTE

user10: THE EMOJIS HE'S SO REAL

jeffazoff: Come get your man. He’s a pain.

You laughed, “Aw come on, Jeff. He’s not too bad. You just need to cuddle him and feed him.”

harrystyles: Agreed.

harrystyles: Jeff, don’t cuddle me.

user19: KEUDUEWFKHJ PLS

jeffazoff: I wasn’t planning on it 🙄 I’m waiting for Y/N to come and do that

“I leave you for two weeks and now you’re about to kill each other,” you sighed, “Hey, before I forget, can you tell Lamby that I’ve been trying to send him my final thoughts about the outfit but it won’t get to him for some reason?”

harry_lambert: My phone’s been acting up, babe. Send it on email! 🖤

user20: I just want to be her

harrystyles: I love your outfit.

“Okay, Lamby, will do,” you said before giggling, standing up and backing away a little to show the Pleasing crewneck and the baggy green sweatpants you were wearing, “Oh yeah? What do you think?” You put a hand to your hip before pretending to flick back your hair, “My boyfriend got me that sweatshirt,” you pointed at it, “And these are his sweatpants,” you pointed again, “Hair by me, nails by me but using my boyfriend’s nail polish,” you said, wiggling your fingers before approaching your phone again, “He’s kind of a big deal.”

user6: PLSS WHY IS THIS SO CUTE

user7: she’s so cute

harrystyles: He’s so fucking lucky.

You giggled, cupping your hand around your mouth, “Harry Styles just cursed on live,” you whispered.

user18: LMFAOOOOO

user21: “he’s so fucking lucky” I DIED BYE

jeffazoff: Scandalous

harrystyles: OH FUCK

harrystyles: 😎

You laughed, “This is some content your fans will absolutely go feral over,” you said, “I need to go now.”

harrystyles: Call me?

user20: I’m not okay

You nodded, “I’ll call you right after I end that thing. Bye, guys! Talk to you later!”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff blurb

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big-snack · 5 months ago

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Porcus Isle Part I

Dom had always been larger than life. Standing at an impressive 6'5" and built like a linebacker, he was the kind of guy who turned heads wherever he went. But beyond his imposing physique, Dom was known for his easy-going nature and infectious smile.

Dom worked at a tech company downtown, San Diego, often putting in long hours. Despite his demanding job, he always found time for his true passion: exploring the vibrant food scene in San Diego. From taco trucks in Barrio Logan to high-end restaurants in La Jolla, Dom's weekends were filled with culinary adventures, always in search of the next great bite.

But Dom's favorite place was a small, unassuming diner near the beach. It was there, over a stack of pancakes and a steaming cup of coffee, that he found a sense of peace. The diner was a hidden gem, known only to a few locals, and Dom had been coming there since he moved to Socal. The owner, Jack, greeted him like family, and the regulars always had a seat ready for him. The whole diner was run by and frequented by big men. Dom felt right at home with these guys.

One sunny Saturday morning, as Dom was savoring his breakfast, a new face walked into the diner. He was a tall, built man with sharp features and immense confidence. He took a seat at the counter, glancing around the diner as if taking it all in. Like he was appreciating all the men. "Hey stud, you find what you're lookin' for?" Jack asked...

Intrigued, Dom decided to introduce himself.

"Hey there, first time here?" Dom asked, flashing his friendly smile.

The man looked up, meeting Dom's gaze with a curious look. "Yeah, just moved to San Diego a few weeks ago. Name's Alex," he replied, extending his hand.

"Welcome to the best diner in town, Alex. I'm Dom," he said, shaking Alex's hand firmly. "What brings you to San Diego?"

Alex chuckled. "A bit of everything, really. New job, new city, looking for a fresh start. I'm a software engineer."

Dom's eyes lit up. "No kidding! I'm in tech too. It's a great field, but it can be pretty demanding. This diner is my escape from all that stress."

As they talked, Dom and Alex found they had more in common than just their profession. They shared a love for video games and a passion for good food. Dom offered to show Alex around the city's best eateries, and Alex eagerly accepted.

Their friendship grew quickly, and soon, weekends were spent exploring San Diego's food scene together. Whether it was sampling street tacos, enjoying a craft beer at a local brewery, or having a quiet meal at the diner, Dom and Alex's bond became a craving for both men.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week at work, Dom and Alex decided to unwind at a new barbecue joint that had just opened in North Park. The restaurant was buzzing with energy, the scent of smoked meats wafting through the air.

As they dug into a platter of ribs and brisket, Dom looked at Alex and asked, "So, how's the new job treating you?"

Alex wiped his hands on a napkin, leaning back in his chair. "It's been challenging, but in a good way. The team's great, and the projects are interesting. It’s just... sometimes I miss having a bit more of a work-life balance."

Dom nodded. "I hear you. That’s why it’s important to have nights like this, to just relax and enjoy good company and good food."

Alex smiled. "Speaking of good company, thanks for showing me around, Dom. Moving to a new city can be pretty overwhelming, but you've made it feel like home.", "Anytime, man" Dom replied, raising his glass.

As the night wore on, their conversation shifted to their mutual love for video games. Alex mentioned an upcoming release he was excited about, and Dom suggested they set up a game night. This became the perfect way to unwind after eating out.

One evening, after a particularly intense gaming session and drinks, Dom and Alex found themselves talking about their interests. Alex expressed his admiration for Dom's physique and said he's looking to join a gym. "All this eating is starting to fill me out." Alex jiggled his belly. Dom's eyes darted to his bloated stomach. "Damn man. I didn't even realize." Dom was stupified.

He had always been focused on his own weight, but he hadn't noticed the changes in Alex.

"Yeah, it's been creeping up on me," Alex admitted, a bit embarrassed. "I've been so caught up in work and our food adventures that I haven't made time for the gym. Do you think you could help me out?"

Dom smiled, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect. "Of course! I'd love to help you. Dom had no idea why the thought of Alex's weight gain turned him on.

That night in his dark room. He thought about that moment. His belly jiggled like it was no longer a part of him. There was no visibility of his ribs. His arms filled out his shirt sleeves more. His face softened up. Dom had never masterbated to a guy before. He stopped for a second to think about it.

It was late. He was alone. No one could judge him if he stared to look up what he was fantasizing about. He pulled up Google and started with image searches. 'Fat belly': 'fat belly guy'; 'beer belly'; 'beer belly men'.

That night he spent a few hours looking at fat guys. The bellies started small, but the longer he searched the bigger they got. He glanced at a picture of a man 600 pounds. His belly was covering his lap in bed. Every single ounce of his body jiggled from the slightest shallow breath from being overstuffed. The guy leaned back on his bed and his head disappeared. The big bulbous crescent shape stood at least 4 feet high; he imagined.

Dom hit his climax and started to cum. His body filled with chills, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "I need to see this in person" he screamed and then he slumped back in his seat. He had some clarity and was worried about what he'd just done. "Why the hell did I do that?"

The next day he saw Alex at the diner, for brunch, and had a new appreciation for his body. "You know, after you mentioned it, I thought more about your physique." Dom shared. "Oh really? What is it you appreciate?" Alex said flirtatiously. "Um, well, I mean you're pretty beefy. That's a popular body type." He said nervously. "Beefy implies that I've been working out. I'm all jello, buddy."

The entire restaurant is quieter than normal. Dom didn't notice, but all the men in the diner were listening.

Dom could feel a twitch in his pants. "Ugh, shit, not this again." Alex was blushing. Dom was intently looking at Alex's body well beyond what was normal. "Something tells me you like it." He said with a smirk.

Dom smiled nervously. "I mean, you could say I appreciate the way you look." Dom was getting hot. "I need to use the restroom" Dom said. "Perfect, I'll go with you" Alex responded. Dom struggled to stand up straight.

They walked to the bathroom. "I feel like we're both flustered." Alex said. "Oh yeah, I guess it pretty obvious. I'm not sure what's going on lately", Dom replied.

Instantly and without hesitation the locked bodies and started making out. Dom's hands caressed Alex's newly sprouted love handles. Alex pulls back from Dom's lips and whispers, "You did this to me."

The door handle turns and someone walks in. They separate and the man said, "Are you that clueless, Dominick? We have all been dropping you hints for a while now.

"Is this like a chubby chaser establishment?"

The man responds "You mean the diner between a bear bar and a leather shop? Of course that's what it is. We managed to get you to gain 20 pounds man."

"Holy shit!" Dom exclaimed. "No wonder I love this place. Fat men make me horny. I can't believe I just said that out loud." Panic washed over him. "It's ok Dom. Nothing has changed." Alex reassured him.

"You were a part of this?" Dom questioned.

"Not really, you spoke to me first. I was coming here because I knew what I wanted. It took me a while to realize you had no idea what was going on. I thought you were playing hard to get"

"Dude I just found out I might be gay, I don't have the bandwidth to come to terms with a fetish."

"Great tech pun" Alex replied.

They both started laughing. When Dom rejoined the room it was like he was seeing it all for the first time. Some men had their large sack of flesh bulging out of their shirts.

"All right you guys. Dom knows what's going on." Alex announced.

That day was the moment Dom knew that Alex was the one.

---

The next part flashes forward

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monst · 3 months ago

Text

Locked in

Dick Grayson x Gn. Reader

Extra: Fluff, And very mild taco sauce angst

You were content with watching him from your spot on the couch, Haley’s head on your lap while you gave her scritches. You hadn’t seen him in a while. An off-planet Titan’s mission that kept him from your grasp for longer than both of you expected. And to no one's surprise, he’s returned to more work. You admired his work ethic but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish he’d take it easy.

“I hope you’re thinking of me over there~” You heard him chime from his seat at the kitchen table.

“Kinda.” you sniff “I’m thinking of how peacefully quiet it was when you were gone.”

“Ouch,” He laughs. “And here I was, thinking of you~” You know that tone, and you know he’s baiting you into feeling bad. And it’s working. You try your luck and peek up from petting Haley. You breathe out through your nose at the look he’s giving you. Big blue eyes fraught with faux sadness, His pretty lips pursed in a tempting pout. You crack when he furrows his brows looking utterly pitiful. With an exaggerated huff, you relent.

But you aren’t going to make it easy for him. You bite your lip looking between the doggo’s ears and fluttering your lashes at him shyly. “I missed you.” You don’t quite manage the coy tone you were aiming for, you're too earnest, as it’s the truth. You did miss him. A lot. His act drops instantly. The lines around his mouth pinch and he averts his gaze.

“But not that much.” You add. “I really enjoyed being able to use a blanket.” You lay the breadcrumbs and the Robin pecks.

“You’re saying I hog the sheets?!” He scoffs mock offense dripping from each syllable. You don’t waste time quickly narrowing your eyes, the memories of shivering in the night as he steals them away aren’t that far away! He’s raising his arms in defense “Okay so maybe I do… sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” You press.

“Well, I haven’t recently.” He grins, but there’s a tightness to the corners of his eyes as the joke slips past.

“Well, you're here to steal them now…”

You can tell that it’s still eating at him. Always feeling guilty that man, you roll your eyes fondly. His bad habits have grown on you too much for you to resent them. However, knowing him he’ll try to make it up to you even if you’re not bothered. You knew what you were getting into when you cast your lot with him. And you know you’ll let him play out his ‘atonement.’

“Can I make it up to you?” And there it was.

“Yeah, you can start by finishing up over there so that you can come cuddle us.” You can see the tension melt from his shoulders at your words. And the sounds of his fingers against the keyboard resume. You yawn into your hand after a few minutes, your eyelids heavy.

“Or..” You look over to see his eyes already on you. “You can come here and cuddle me while I work?” He’s batting those pretty eyes at you as if you're not already unfolding your legs and standing. You leave the puppy to sleep as you leave the living room. Your hands slide across his back and over his broad shoulders. You kiss his cheek, laughing when he grumbles about you missing.

“As nice as this is, this isn’t what I meant.” He hums. His calloused palms grasp your forearm and you allow him to position you in front of him. He uses his legs to push the chair from under the wooden table.

“Dick.” You begin.

“I missed you too.” he cut in, patting his lap to drive his point home. “And it’s late, what if you fall asleep and we can’t cuddle?” He’s giving you that look again. All innocent and boy Scout blue and you're instantly suspicious.

“Fine. But I don’t see how you're going to get anything done like this.” You climb onto his lap and his arms wrap around your waist to pull you closer. “And no funny business” you add trying not to brush against his fresh wounds. He lets out a sulky ‘Aw man’ before he shuffles you both forward until you feel the wood resting against your back. His head is over your shoulder as he continues to type. Slower than he would have before, due to the awkward angle. You almost fall asleep that way, the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours, the rhythmic tapping of the keys. That is until you feel his lips against your head.

“‘m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You yawn, your fingers playing with his hair.

“You deserve a present partner.” He mumbles.

“And you, a patient one, Pumpkin I do miss you when you're gone but I Swear that I don't mind waiting” Your lips press against his scratchy stubble. “Not when I know you always come back.” You both ignore the blaring siren of what his not returning would mean. “‘Told you I'm locked in, are you?”

He smiled, kissing your temple. “Always angel.” You'd have this conversation again. When he comes back to you from yet another mission all banged up and guilty. Absolutely no doubt about it. But you're here to stay, for as long as you have together, you’re locked in.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x reader #uh random bullshit go!#Had this one in my drafts for a while #But the latest Nightwing issue really had me wanting to post it <3

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thealternateuniverse · 7 months ago

Text

At who's the best at

Paige Bueckers x Fem reader

Warnings: Slowburn (?), curses, sexual inunendos

A/N: I couldn't think of a title 😭 I am so sorry. Other characters are from my imagination, they are not related to NCAA at all. Had to get this ideas out of my head.

Y/N was panting, hands on her knees after doing laps across the court. Today is hell, Geno is not taking it easy on them, the training is tougher compared to the previous months as their team is advancing to Elite 8. She thanked the cardio gods for being on her favor today or she will pass out. Taking one last deep breath, she put her both hands on her waist and walked towards the three point shot perimeter. Qadence pats her on the back while she is dribbling for a three point shot.

"Take it easy babe." She nodded at Qadence before shooting the ball. Another miss.

"Miller!" Geno motioned to come to him. Y/N sighed and jog towards her coach's direction.

"Kid, do you see this?" Geno handed her his clipboaard with her stats on it.

"This is from the last game against Duke."

Y/N scanned her stats, and it is much better progress compared to their match against Sycaruse and Jackson State.

"Yeah and it will get more better if you can hoop today. What the hell is wrong Miller? Shade and Edwards blocked you three times today. You don't get blocked thrice based on these stats. What's wrong kid?"

Y/N didn't respond and remain silent. It shows in the practice that she is preoccupied today.

"Nothing Geno, it's just......" she trailed off thinking of what she should say.

"I'll do better. I'll make sure to clear my mind before practice so I can focus." Y/N continued, bowing her head slightly. She had to prove to UConn women's basketball team that they will not regret accepting her back when she transferred here during her 2nd year. But Geno doesn't seem to be convinced of her answer.

"Alright. I am expecting much better results in our next practice. We can't make excuses once USC had our asses in our match. Go take a swim or a run in your neighborhood or whatever later, you're not yourself today and I don't want to see you like a vegetable during practice."

Y/N nodded and Geno gave her an encouraging pat on the back before letting her go back to practice. It made her feel a little better but her day is still shitty.

----

Y/N's phone keeps vibrating, this is the umpteenth time her parents called her today. She doesn't want to answer it, it will be divorce probably. It already threw her game off today and she doesn't want to ruin her day more by answering it.

Mum:

talk to me hun, please

Hun, we are sorry, I know this will be hard for you.

Do you hate us?

I'm sorry, love. It's not working anymore between me and your dad.

Dad:

Peanut, please answer your phone.

I'm sorry.

We wanted to tell you for a long time.

---

Y/N turned off her phone. With a deep sigh, she ate her tacos. She's got a lot on her plate now, her studies, her upcoming match, and now her parents divorce. She wanted to take a break.

"Boo, you okay? You're preocuppied the whole day." KK finally asked. Her teammates have been giving each other knowing looks and tiptoeing around her all day. They are not used to her being silent. She went out with them tonight hoping it will take off some things in her mind.

"I'm fine girl. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bad today." She smiled at KK. She's not ready to talk yet not until she's able to come to terms with her family.

"You suck, Miller. Paige is getting full of herself today and you're too preoccupied to humble her."

Paige almost choked on her shirley temple, she took a napkin and wiped her mouth.

"Me? Full of myself? Come on Aubs." Paige scoffs.

"Miller just realized today I don't need humbling, I'm actually good." Paige raised her eyebrows playfully followed by their teammates violent reactions.

Y/N grinned. She had to thank Paige for diverting their teammates from pressing on what's going on with her. The subject of being the best shooter between her or Paige became a daily banter. Paige was not unwelcoming when Y/N transferred in UConn but her competitive ass made sure to show why she was here first instead of Y/N. Y/N admits that Paige is actually better than her and the best all rounder, her transferring here seemed challenged the latter on who's best at what. She doesn't know why Paige thinks she has competition when she is actually the best. She likes to get on Paiges nerves so she gets along with Paige's imaginary contest.

"Get outta here Bueckers, I can do what you did earlier even with a hangover" Y/N said, giving Paige a sheepish grin. Paige made 43 consecutive 3 point shots, it got into her head today without Y/N beating it. It always annoy Paige when Y/N's record is close or beat hers.

"Oi, enough you two." Azzi stopped them before it could start to bickering. Y/N raised both her hands in surrender. She took a sip of her margaritas while still giving Paige a cocky grin. Now the latter looks annoyed.

They continued having fun, dancing and drinking. Y/N didn't move that much from her seat, she's tired and the margarita must've probabaly hit already.

"I'm just gonna go to the restroom." She excused herself. Feeling dizzy Y/n groaned, guess she will have that hangover tomorrow.

She decided to turn on her phone and was still bombarded with texts from her parents. Her mum's name popped on the screen and decided to answer it finally.

"Honey, I'm glad you answered. I've been calling all day." Her mom sounded worried on the other line.

"Sorry mum. Busy."

Her mother sighed. Y/N doesn't exactly know what to say, she is still processing that her parents will have a divorce. Out of 23 damn years, they just decided now that they don't need each other?

"Honey I.... I am so sorry. If you could come home soon we could have a talk, with your dad and I."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

"I am not going home, mom. California is 2000 miles away, I have an upcoming game in 2 weeks, and I am busy for my finals. What's the point? Your going to sell the house anyway now that you are getting divorce."

She didn't mean to sound mad over the phone, but she is really upset.

"I will call you when I am ready to talk to you both. If you two want a divorce, fine, but give me time to process that my parents don't need each other anymore after 23 damn years."

She didn't wait for her mother's response and hang up.

------

Paige went back to their booth joined by a tipsy Nika after their teammates are gone to god knows where. Dancing or probably making out with someone.

"Hey P, have fun! You're awfully behave tonight. Loosen up, it's weekend tomorrow."

Nika nudged her and throw an arm over her shoulder.

"I'm good, Ma. I don't want hangover tomorrow. Besides, someone has to stay sober to make sure you all get home safely."

Nika scoffed, rolling her eyes at her teammate. It's their last free night before Geno will give them total hell in preparation against their match with USC.

"You're boring me P. I'll go join the others and have fun being miserable here. Have you se---" Nika wasn't able to finish her sentence when a commotion started in the middle of the bar. Recognizing the 6 foot tall asses of their teammates in the scuffle, the two ran towards their direction.

"What in the fuck happened?" Nika felt her slight tipsiness gone, helping KK reach Ayanna who's ready to take a swing to an athlete from Yale. The bouncers are trying to separate them before it ends up to a total brawl. Paige scanned where the others are and her eyes landed on Y/N, her sleeves are up, Aubrey blocking her from punching another Yale athlete.

"You don't talk shit here, dawg. Go back to New Haven and fuck your slutty girlfriend!"

Paige grabbed Y/N by the waist and dragged her out of the scene. For someone who is always cool and at her composure, she was surprised that Miller can trash talk.

"Calm down, Miller. You don't get to injure that million dollar hands." With Azzi trailing behind, she brought Y/N outside and pinned her on the wall to calm her down. She looks disheveled, some of her locks escaped from her ponytail, her face is red, her sleeves are uneven and she is reeking of alcohol. What a total mess.

"What in the world was that Y/N, I know you guys don't start fights but you all are better than this. Gosh, how many drinks did you have? You are reeking of alcohol!" Azzi said frustrated.

Y/N scoffs, wiping some sweat on her forehead. Paige couldn't agree more with Azzi. They don't start fights, Y/N never looses her cool even during their banters at who is best, intense matches and bad calls from ref. Paige wonders what made her so worked up that she almost punch someone today.

"Nah, I was cool Az. I took shots from everyone, sorry I lost count."

The 2 of them grimaced. They check Y/N if she had any injuries, Geno will kill them if they are scathed and once he hears about this. Azzi wonders as to why Yale women's basketball are in Storrs. That's like an hour drive just for a night's drink.

"God you are drunk and you can take a fight." Paige said amused. She never saw Y/N got drunk because she never was.

"Oh yeah Bueckers, wanna try? Let's take it here outside." Y/N stood straight, her face annoyed.

Well that was hot. Paige thought. She raised her hands in surrender before Y/N gets totally pissed. Y/N haven't landed a punch but it might be on Paige if she triggers the latter. Azzi gave her a scolding look.

"Chill, Ma. T'was a compliment."

Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned against the wall again. She's starting to feel hazy.

"What did they do anyway?" Azzi asked.

"Douchebag's girlfriend was offering me a drink, I declined. She thought I want to fuck her slutty girlfriend and proceeds to call us defects, the others heard it, we didn't mind until she pushed Aaliyah."

Paige clenched her jaw and Azzi rubs her temple. Half of the team suffered injury in the past year. Paige wished she hadn't grabbed Y/N and let her land her fist first before fleeing from the scene, it was uncalled for. Drunken Miller surprised them tonight, they didn't know that her mouth can talk.

"That's it, we are all getting home. I'm gonna go get the others." Azzi left them outside.

"Yeah Azzi and tell that cunt to fuck her girlfriend properly."

Paige shook her head. Y/N is definitely the highlight of tonight's event.

"What got you so worked up today, Miller? You almost took it out on someone."

KK was right, Y/N was preoccupied. She didn't have any baskets during practice. Paige had 29 3 points in a row today, usually Y/N comes close or even beat her. It's unusual for someone who plays ball since 5th grade, she just did laps all day.

Y/N groans. "I'll talk about it tomorrow when I'm sober. can you take me home please? Paige."

Paige, licked her lips and pretends to think about it. She's gonna do it anyway.

"I never thought you were into girls." Paige blurted out. She mentally slapped herself right after. Her intrusive thoughts won.

"You guys never asked. I never said I was into boys either. So annoying."

For some reason, Paige couldn't keep her smile off. She was grinning like and idiot. Y/N noticed and she rolled her eyes, Paige looks stupid.

"You look like an idiot Bueckers."

"Maybe I am."

She twirls her car keys and they started to walk where she parked her car. She's behind Y/N who's trying to keep a straight-face and herself from stumbling.

Azzi and KK following them, KK still heated from the commotion earlier and keeps trash talking. Azzi is trying to cover her mouth for being loud. KK, Azzi, Nika and Y/N rode with Paige. The others were at Aaliyah's car since they live together in the same apartment. Paige shook her head, they are all dead on Monday.

-------

Y/N woke up, her head pounding and throat dry. She groaned when she tried to get up. She knew immediately it was bad last night to have a hangover like this, she rarely gets drunk and when she does, she has it bad. She jolted up when realizes that this is not her room. The bed sheet is purple, there are Miami Heat posters everywhere and the trophies are too many to be hers. Not until she saw the familiar number 5 jersey hanging on the wall.

"Fuck, what did I do last night." She whispered to herself. This must be Paige's room. She tries recalling the events of last night and vaguely remembers the Yale athlete talking shit. She almost got involved in a brawl.

Y/N got up from bed only to realize that she is wearing Paige's clothes, it's one of her old team USA shirts, nothing else and her boxers. It's already 2 in the afternoon, she could hear the ruckus outside Paige's room and KK's rambunctious laugh.

She opened the door and was greeted by the chaos of her teammates.

Y/N winced when the pounding of her head hits again. She sat down on one of the bean bags and leaned her head back trying to ease the headache. In an instant, Paige handed her a bottle of water and a tylenol. She gave Paige what is this for ? look.

"Your hangover, duh."

"Ya'll our sleeping beauty is awake." KK sat beside her but she was waiving where Ice was. Ice was doing live on the corner, and she didn't realize that where she is is being captured. Gosh she looks horrible.

"Guys, they wanna know something. You remember we did a tiktok of who among in the team you don't want your kid to date..... They want the opposite."

Qadence was quick to shout "Aaliyah" followed by KK's "Y/N"

"Yeah, I'll go with Y/N too." Ice agreed

"Y/N will throw hands, I'll bet on her too." Aubrey added.

" 'bout you, Paige?"

The team groaned when Paige showed her "rizz hands."

"Will we go further? I'll let my kid date myself." The team erupted in disagreement. Nika throws a pillow towards Paige's direction. "Dream on Bueckers!" Y/N shakes her head too.

Paige is a gender bender, the amount of fans she has be it a boy or a girl is insane. She may look like a fuck-boy type but she'll be a good girlfriend, the question though is, can they take her superstar life?

"Y/N, they wanted to know who you want your kid to date." Ice turned towards her. Y/N straightened her back a little, enough only to face Ice.

"No one, you guys loves ball more than relationships." Everyone burst in laughter.

"You heard our homie? We're not playboys/playgirls, basketball is life." Ice said in live while giving a thumbs up.

"Nawww! she's just playing safe!" KK shouted.

" Y/N is so fine, I think I'll start watching live " Ice reading through comments.

Y/N suddenly felt conscious. She moved where the camera can't see her so she can deal with what's left of her hangover.

" Does Y/N have a boyfriend or what? Saw her in Stanford before and what the hell is she doing on the court, go model in a runway or something--- Yo! Someone said you should model Y/N!" KK is reading along with Ice now.

Y/N blushed on the compliment(?). She couldn't think of herself as someone who walks on a runway or pose for a magazine aside from playing ball. She's no Cameron Brink who could pass that criteria.

"Maaaaan, they are all whipped to our girly pop. We've been gatekeeping our secret weapon."

Some of her teammates joined KK and Ice in reading the comments.

"Y/N c'mere they want to see you."

Y/N doesn't want to be rude by not saying even a "hi" but she really feels shit right now. She look around the room and her eyes landed on Paige, begging for help.

"Y'all sorry but Miller is not feeling well, you'll get to see her in Gampel soon. Be sure to be there." Paige shouted while throwing an arm around Y/N's shoulder. They are both far from the camera, Y/N waived though from where they are.

"Thank God." Y/N muttered and leaned on Paige's shoulder and she felt her stiffened.

Ice wrapped up her live leaving disappointed viewers to only see a glimpse of Y/N. All of them went back to their chaotic self.

--------

A/N: Please stay tuned for the next part. I think I have a hangover too 🤮. Wrote this when we were at the bar. Feedbacks and suggestions are open.

ALSO..... DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHO DOES THE GIRLS HAIRS DURING THEIR GAMES? DO THEY HAVE A HAIRSTYLIST OR WHAT?? PLEASE HELP A GIRL OUT. 😌

#paige buckets #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #kk arnold #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #stanford cardinal #ncaa women’s basketball #aubrey griffin #aaliyah edwards #ice brady

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p0orbaby · 2 months ago

Text

Teddy Picker

summary: three’s a crowd might be an understatement

warnings: none

a/n: based on this request !

word count: 1k

Your bedroom is a war zone, but instead of landmines, it’s littered with plushies. Innocent, wide-eyed plushies. Each one has a name, a backstory, and possibly a retirement plan, because you take this stuff seriously. There’s Mr. Fluffington, the bear who "survived" your university years, Miss Whiskers, a cat with a questionable amount of fur left after years of cuddling, and God knows how many others.

Leah’s in bed, wedged between a life-size llama and a squishy avocado. She’s trying to read, but there’s a giraffe’s neck poking her in the eye, and a penguin is wedged under her knee in a way that defies the laws of physics. The woman’s practically sweating from the effort of not losing it.

“It’s like sleeping in a zoo,” she says, not for the first time. You’re not sure if she’s talking to you, herself, or Mr. Snuggles, the elephant who’s somehow become the unofficial leader of the bed plushies. “Except none of these animals breathe, and they all look like they’re judging me”

She’s not wrong. They do have that creepy, glassy-eyed stare going on. It’s the kind of gaze that says, “I’m cute, but if you fall asleep, I might just steal your soul”

You, of course, are oblivious to this. You’re flitting around the room, busy finding space for the latest addition—a bright pink octopus with a smile so wide it’s borderline unhinged. You plop it down right in the middle of the bed, where it immediately claims dominion over the blankets. Leah watches this, her jaw tightening like she’s about to have a full-blown existential crisis.

“Babe, I love you,” she starts, the tone you’ve come to recognize as the precursor to a very serious, possibly relationship-defining conversation. “But we’re running out of bed”

“We have a king-size bed,” you point out helpfully, like the size of the bed has anything to do with the impending suffocation she’s feeling.

“And yet, somehow, I’m sleeping in the fetal position on the edge of a cliff,” Leah retorts, kicking at a plushie that’s taken up residence near her foot. “Why is there a taco in our bed? We don’t even eat tacos in bed”

“It’s not just a taco,” you correct her, as if this explains everything. “It’s Señor Taco, and he represents my love of Mexican cuisine”

Leah blinks. Slowly. Like she’s buffering and trying really, really hard not to crash.

“And why is Señor Taco touching my leg?”

“He’s being friendly?”

“I swear to God, if one more inanimate object gets near my leg…”

“Look,” you say, climbing into the plushie mountain, where you promptly disappear like it’s some kind of portal to a magical, fluffy realm. You poke your head out, like a meerkat surveying the savannah. “They’re just… comforting”

Leah sighs, closing her book, or at least trying to, but it’s hard when the pages are partially obscured by a duck with a beanie. “I’m sure they are, but it’s like sleeping in a furnace. Do you know how much heat these things trap? I woke up last night thinking I was being smothered by a goddamn Build-A-Bear”

You laugh because, honestly, the mental image is hilarious, but Leah looks dead serious. She probably had a near-death experience with a rogue teddy bear last night, and here you are, making fun of her.

“We can get rid of some,” you offer, half-heartedly, because you both know you’re lying. You’re not getting rid of a single plushie. Not Mr. Fluffington, not Señor Taco, and definitely not the avocado, which you’ve started using as a neck pillow.

“Uh-huh,” Leah says, unconvinced. “And which one of these childhood relics are you going to sacrifice to save our relationship?”

You look around, as if there’s even the slightest chance you’ll willingly part with any of them. “What about the avocado?”

Leah perks up. “Really?”

“No, I was kidding. Avocados are healthy”

Leah groans, pushing the giraffe away from her face. “At this point, I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to plushies”

“They’re hypoallergenic,” you assure her, because you googled that once in a fit of paranoia after you brought home Mr. Snuggles and Leah sneezed for three days straight. She’s giving you a look now, one that says she’s rethinking every single decision she’s made since meeting you.

“Just… maybe… one night?” she pleads, voice softening, appealing to your nonexistent sense of reason. “One night without the army of stuffed animals?”

“Where would they sleep?”

“Anywhere but here. In the living room, in a wardrobe, in a goddamn plushie cemetery for all I care”

You pretend to think it over. “But then they’ll be lonely”

Leah throws her head back on the pillow and stares at the ceiling, contemplating the chain of events that have led her to this moment. “I think you’re confusing your feelings with theirs”

“Maybe,” you admit, settling in next to her, your body flush against hers, although there’s really only so much of Leah you can touch because Señor Taco’s taking up most of the space between you. You snuggle into her shoulder, despite the llama’s best efforts to wedge itself between you.

Leah wraps an arm around you, half-heartedly, more out of habit than actual affection at this point. “One night,” she whispers, like she’s making some sort of solemn vow. “One night where I’m not suffocating under a pile of polyester and fake fur”

You hum in response, already half-asleep, because honestly, plushies are the best. They’re soft, they don’t talk back, and they definitely don’t complain about how hot it is in the bed. They’re perfect, and Leah should really be more appreciative of the cute little ecosystem you’ve built here.

As you drift off, Leah’s already strategizing. She’s probably planning a plushie heist, one where she sneaks out of bed in the dead of night and smuggles Mr. Snuggles and his plushie gang out of the room and into some faraway closet.

But for now, you’re both stuck. You in your plushie paradise, and Leah in her plushie purgatory.

It’s a good thing you love each other because honestly, if there’s anything that’s going to test this relationship, it’s Señor Taco and his posse of cuddly, suffocating friends.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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loulovingho · 1 month ago

Note

👉👈 For the prompts, maybe something along a similar vein to Financially Irresponsible Tommy? Like, maybe Tommy refuses to write down a grocery list and just goes to the store and buys whatever he feels like, driving Buck insane?

A little off, because (technically) he did write a list 😂 enjoy!

“You bought six jars of spaghetti sauce?” Buck asked, staring at the pile of groceries laid out on the kitchen island.

Tommy smiled, very proud of himself. “They were buy one get one free.”

“Right. And you got six, because?”

“Because the guy restocking the shelves said the sale would end today. I don't know when they'll go back on sale, and you're always looking at the flyers that come in the mail to see the deals.” He picked up one of the jars. “This was a deal.”

Buck nodded. “I do love a good deal. It- It just seems like when you buy so many at once, it kind of adds up anyway. Plus, I've always made homemade sauce.”

Tommy began unloading the final bag. “I know you do, and it takes forever. This is going to save so much time, Evan.”

“You make a compelling argument.”

Buck continued looking everything over. Three cans of green beans, a family size bag of cinnamon cereal, baking chocolate, three different kinds of flour, two half gallons of milk, one very small can of beanie weenies, taco seasoning, and two 24 count cases of green, and only green, gatorade.

There was plenty more mixed in, but there was one glaring thing missing.

“Hey, Babe?”

Tommy turned from where he was standing at the pantry, putting away the six pack of canned split pea soup. “Mhm?”

“You didn't buy any pasta.”

“Why would I get pasta?” Tommy asked.

Buck closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “For the six jars of spaghetti sauce you bought.”

“You're not even eating pasta right now, Evan.”

Another deep breath. He should really start going to yoga. “Ignoring the fact you can get low carb pasta, why did you buy six jars of sauce if we're not eating pasta?”

“For when we do eat pasta,” Tommy replied as though it should be obvious.

Buck pushed himself away from the counter, walking closer to Tommy. “Tommy, Honey,” he started, bringing his hands to Tommy's face, “I love you, I really do, but this might be how I die for a second time.”

Tommy eyebrows furrowed. He wrapped his hands around Buck's wrists and pulled them back far enough to speak. “What are you talking about?”

“This,” he said, nodding back toward the groceries, “makes no sense to my brain. Have you ever made a grocery list before?”

“I had a grocery list!” he defended, letting go of Buck's wrists to pull the list from his back pocket. He handed it to Buck, who looked even more dismayed as he read it over.

“I think I'm gonna have an aneurysm.”

Tommy rolled his eyes playfully, heading back to the island to grab more groceries. “You're being very dramatic. I got everything on that list.”

“The list consists of five items!” Buck exclaimed. “Three of which are ineligible!”

Tommy came and stood behind Buck, peering over his shoulder. “Which three?”

As Buck pointed, Tommy began to read them off one by one.

“Chickpeas.”

“Why do we need chickpeas?”

“In case I want hummus.”

“You know it takes more than chickpeas to make hummus, right?”

Tommy glanced over at him. “I do now.”

Buck sighed. “What's this one?” he asked, pointing to the second item.

“Onion powder.”

“Okay, but we already have onion powder here.”

“And now we won't run out for a really long time.”

Moving on, Buck pointed to the last item.

“Meat.”

That's when Buck turned, pressing the list against Tommy's chest for him to take. “You didn't get any meat, Tommy!”

“Yes I did!” Tommy reached over and picked up an item, holding it out for Buck to see. “I got canned ham.”

“Canned ha- Tommy, my head is gonna explode,” Buck replied, pressing his fingers against his temple.

Tommy simply smiled at him, leaning in and giving him a peck on the lips. “You're so cute.”

“You're never going shopping again,” Buck decided. “Ever. I- I'll take over grocery shopping full time.”

“Evan, I go grocery shopping to decompress. You can't take that from me.”

“Your decompression is gonna be the reason I start taking blood pressure medication.”

Tommy placed the can of ham back on the counter and moved closer to Buck, wrapping his arms around his waist. “What if we go together next time?” he asked. As Buck's arms drifted over his shoulders, Tommy began swaying them gently back and forth as though they were dancing along to music. “I can show you my method firsthand, so you understand it better.”

Buck thought it over for a few seconds. “Can I bring an AED with us in case you need to restart my heart?”

Tommy nodded. “We could even pick up Jee on the way, for emotional support.”

“I don't know if I could subject her to this.”

“Christopher then?”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed. “Yeah, that'd be good.”

Tommy kissed him again, Buck sighing into it. One thing Tommy's kisses could always do is melt Buck's tension away, even if he was the one causing it.

“Why don't you go relax?” Tommy suggested once they parted. “I'll finish putting everything away and start dinner.”

“Okay,” Buck agreed. “What are you gonna make?”

Tommy looked around at all the random things he'd purchased. “How does canned ham with chickpeas and gatorade sound?”

Buck pursed his lips together. “Yeah, I'm gonna order food,” he replied, giving Tommy a pat on the ass before walking away.

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #prompt

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willowsnook · 14 days ago

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Act my age

ham, steak, salami + veggies with white bread pleasee thank you 💞

Lewis Hamilton x gf!reader

The age gap between you and Lewis was a topic that the F1 media couldn’t seem to get over, even though you’d been together for two years. The 15-year difference was all they talked about, but you tried to brush off the chatter.

As an associate attorney practicing corporate law in Monaco, you felt you had the "maturity" box checked for dating Lewis by media standards. Still, recently the constant expectation to act “older” started to weigh on you. You were 25, and sometimes you just wanted to be you—without the shadow of “younger girlfriend” following your every move.

Feeling stressed, you called your friends and planned a night out. Lewis kissed you goodbye with a smile, promising to pick you up if needed and reminding you to stay out of trouble. A few hours and several drinks later, you found yourself on the dance floor, lost in the music. Taking a break, you stared at yourself in the restroom mirror for a little too long, realizing it was probably time to call Lewis.

“Lewis!” you chimed when he answered.

“Hi, sweetheart. Ready to come home?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, please,” you slurred. “Can we get Taco Bell?”

“That’s terrible for you.”

“Oh, live a little!” you teased, sensing his playful eyeroll over the phone. True to his word, he arrived in minutes. As you slid into the car, you leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

“Hi,” you whispered, and he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

“Hi, I missed you,” he murmured, making you giggle.

“It was only a couple of hours,” you reminded him.

“Still too long,” he replied with a smile.

“Yeah, it was good to relieve some stress.”

The look Lewis gave you after you said that made you smirk, knowing he had another way to relax once you got home.

------------------------------------------------

The Friday before the Mexico GP, you were in the McLaren garage with Lando while Pato took the wheel for FP1. Lando was one of your closest friends in the paddock, and with you both living in Monaco and being around the same age, you bonded quickly. Caught up in a playful 1v1 soccer match, you giggled as you nutmegged Lando, who tackled you in a dramatic attempt to stop you.

You landed awkwardly, wincing as you hit the ground, and Lando immediately looked worried.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, glancing around nervously. “Lewis is going to kill me.”

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow. “Are you more worried about Lewis than me?”

“Uh, yes,” he admitted without hesitation, making you laugh.

Later, back in the Mercedes garage, you waited for Lewis to finish his interviews. As notifications began flooding your phone, you noticed you’d been tagged in a video from one of Lewis’s interviews:

Reporter: “So, Lewis, nice to see Y/N out here supporting you this weekend. Interesting video of her and Lando Norris playing football.”

Lewis: “Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s like I’m babysitting a kid sometimes.”

Embarrassment hit you like a wave, and before you knew it, you had quietly excused yourself and called for a ride back to the hotel.

Back in the hotel room, you tried to calm yourself down in the shower, but when you stepped out, you found Lewis waiting, worried as he noticed your puffy eyes.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Just thought you could use a break from babysitting,” you replied sharply.

He flinched, realizing the hurt his words had caused. “I didn’t mean it that way, Y/N,” he tried, but you shook your head.

“How else could you have meant it?” you asked, folding your arms defensively.

He sighed. “I just see Lando as... still a kid. And when you’re with him, it makes you look that way too.”

“You do know Lando and I are the same age, right?” you countered. “If you didn’t want to ‘babysit,’ maybe you should’ve dated someone your own age.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. Tears slid down your cheeks as he held you tightly. “You’re the only one I want to come home to. Always.”

Exhausted, you nodded, letting the conversation drop as you both went to bed.

The next day, you still felt out of sorts but kept quiet to avoid distracting Lewis before qualifying. As he was stopped for a quick Sky Sports interview, you hung back with Lando, who shot you a sympathetic look.

“Rough night?” he asked gently, and you nodded.

“This isn’t your fault, Lando,” you assured him. “He shouldn’t have said it.”

Lando’s expression shifted, and following his gaze, you saw Lewis speaking with the interviewer, his hand resting on her lower back as he laughed at something she said. A wave of anger and hurt rushed over you.

“Y/N…” Lando started, but you brushed him off.

“I’m leaving.”

Storming out of the paddock you were pissed. You knew Lewis would think nothing of it and expect you not to either and to “take the high road.” But you were so fucking over that. Mixed with yesterday’s emotions you were feeling slightly crazy and you weren’t going to contain it.

Calling Lewis’s assistant, you made her book you a flight home immediately and went to the hotel to get your stuff. By the time you reached there, you had seen countless pictures of Lewis and the reporter cozy together, so naturally, why not print them off for him to frame? You were a woman on a mission in the hotel business room printing these pictures. Spreading them out on your bed, you snapped a pic to send to your sister, who called you insane and then left.

Instead of Monaco, you took a shorter flight to New York, where Lewis kept a penthouse. You settled in, ordered takeout, and watched the race on Sunday from the penthouse, glad to see him finish P4 but still seething.

You weren’t expecting to see Lewis until tomorrow, so you went to bed around 11, only to be jolted awake at 1am by someone pounding on the door.

"Just let me in," you heard Lewis call out.

Groggy, you opened it to find him standing there, exhausted, dressed in a Mercedes hoodie and sweats.

He dropped his bags on the living room couch and crossed his arms, facing you. “Nice touch with the photos,” he said, his voice steady.

“I thought they were fitting,” you shot back, arms crossed.

Lewis sighed. “You know that wasn’t anything. She isn’t you.”

“Who cares that I know that?” You yelled. “You are mine! Not hers! And you know what I wanted to do? I wanted to march over there and rip her off you by her hair.”

Lewis’ eyes widened but you kept going.

“I’m done pretending that I’m too secure with myself to care about this shit because, guess what? I do fucking care! I do care when girls throw themselves at you all the time. So yeah, I printed off those pictures for you, and yeah, I knew that was crazy, but if that’s what I have to do to get an emotional reaction out of you, then I’ll do it every time.”

After your outburst, the room felt charged with a heavy, vulnerable silence. Lewis looked at you, his face softened by something between understanding and regret. He took a deep breath, then stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around you. You could feel the warmth of his embrace as he held you close, grounding you.

“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and tender, “I’m so sorry. I never, ever want you to feel like you can’t be yourself with me. I love you—exactly as you are. I didn’t realize how much pressure you’ve felt to fit into… some idea of what everyone else thinks you should be. I don’t want that for us.”

You looked up at him, eyes still glassy but softening as his words sank in. “Sometimes I feel like I have to prove I’m ‘mature enough’ to be with you,” you admitted quietly. “Like I have to be some version of me that fits everyone else’s expectations.”

He sighed, holding you even tighter. “Y/N, you’re perfect just as you are. I love you, not some ‘ideal’ of you. I love the person who’s goofy, carefree, strong… the person who prints off photos just to make a point,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to change or hold anything back for me.”

A small, relieved smile crept onto your face, and you let yourself melt into his embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered. “I just needed to hear that.”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I want you to feel free to be yourself with me. I’m here because I want all of you, Y/N—all the real, unfiltered parts of you.”

You closed your eyes, taking in his words, letting them wrap around you like a promise. Finally, you looked up at him with a new lightness, feeling the tension in your chest ease.

“Alright,” you said softly, a hint of playfulness returning to your tone. “Then get ready, because the real me definitely wants Taco Bell at 2 a.m.”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Fine. But we’re getting fries, too.”

With your hand in his, you both headed out the door, leaving behind the weight of everyone else’s expectations. It was just you and Lewis—real, imperfect, and perfect for each other.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine

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blanketforcas · 16 days ago

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In the spirit of Making Things as a form of healing, whether through stories or art, or memes that make us laugh, I present to you:

✨ Electric Boogaloo: a destiel event ✨

This event welcomes any type of fan content: fic, art, amvs, poetry, memes, edits, web weaves,… silly or earnest, whatever works for you!

Obviously, given we’re celebrating the latam dub, this event focuses on destiel. You could use this opportunity to use a Spanish song, lyrics, or whatever else for your creations, but don’t worry, this is not a requirement.

The main theme is of course reciprocation but if you need more inspiration, here are some prompts you can use:

bisexual lighting

darkness before the dawn

gentle touch

tacos for two

whispered conversations

🌈 this is a low-effort friendly event. we're all going through a weird time right now. fandom is an escape and should be something joyful. it's not work, i'm not your boss. go have fun!

🌈 given the theme of this event, the focus is destiel, but definitely feel free to include other characters in your work. this goes without saying i think, but this event is not inc*st-friendly

🚫 Obviously, AI is not allowed

Please use the tag #boogaloo25 (and feel free to tag me) so i don't miss your post!

Note: there are no restrictions on anything ns*fw. I trust everyone to use their own discretion both in creations and in who you reblog things from. Try to respect other people's "minors dni" where relevant.

This Meghan Fitzmartin quote is what I keep thinking of when I think about why seeing Dean's explicit reciprocation is so important to us:

hope any of this inspires you! i'm excited to see what you come up with. happy creating and happy celebrating of one of fandom's wildest broken destiel seals ❤️ see you all on nov 25th, 2024!

#destiel #if you have any questions feel free to drop an ask/dm #hope this can be helpful and something to focus on instead of the horrorsTM #hiii this is my first time organizing something like this and i have imposter syndrome lol

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starkeygirlposts · 2 months ago

Text

Goosebumps in my Sleeve V

This chapter has been a labor of love. I feel so lacking in creativity, but yet writing is all I can think about! Once I sit down to write, my mind goes blank. Anyway, this chapter is a little all over the place but I wanted to delve into some other topics/scenes from the timeline. I hope you enjoy this one! Please beware that this is NOT proof read and most likely contains several errors. I will eventually get around to proof reading it. Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader Trigger warnings: angst, stepcest, drugs, swearing, pregnancy, smut(a whole drawer of warnings), discussion of suicide, swearing, domestic violence, mama and daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of abortion, talk of death and killing, idk what else lol 18+ mdni

SERIES MASTERLIST

THEN

To say that Rafe got possessive once you found out you were pregnant would be an understatement. Nothing you did was okay with him if he didn’t know about it first. No schedule change or unpredictable plans were allowed to be made without an argument ensuing and a slew of angry texts and missed calls.

You’d try telling him that you needed to keep everything normal and the same as it was before so to not draw any unnecessary attention to the two of you and your situation. But he’d tell you he "didn’t give a fuck”, and “that’s my kid you’ve got in there so you tell me this kind of shit.”

More times than not you’d wonder if you’d only become an incubator for his precious cargo. Whether or not he cared solely about the baby under your heart or also about its mother. So when you go grab tacos with two of your closest friends, you finally lose it when Rafe blows up your phone wondering where you are and why you didn’t tell him you wouldn’t be home. You’d left the house at 6:30, not knowing where Rafe was or when he would be home. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in his gut when he silently opens your door to find your bedroom empty, his mind racing to the worse case scenario, or maybe it’s the demon buried deep inside of him needing to control your every move.

Your sat at the table at your favorite Mexican restaurant not even five minutes from tanneyhill, chip half dipped into the bowl of guacamole when your phone chimes. The conversation between the three of you halts, and you wave your hand, telling them to continue as you flip your phone over, already knowing who the alert was from. You try to keep a straight face as you read the message.

7:02PM Rafe: Where are you?

You look it over, re reading it three times before debating sending a simple reply, instead deciding to push the power button and set it back down on the table, flipping the silent switch before you do so.

You don’t exactly know why you don’t want to answer, as if the reply takes too much energy. But the two things that come to your mind first is that you not only feel suffocated, but you want to forget for just a moment.

Then at 7:08 he calls you. You obviously don’t answer.

7:08PM Rafe: This again?

2 more missed calls.

7:12PM Rafe: Am I really that shitty of a boyfriend that you don't even want to answer me?

7:15PM Rafe: You’re testing me aren’t you? Why?

7:19PM Rafe: You know I can see where you are right? You’re sharing your location with me.

You stopped sharing your location with Rafe.

7:21PM Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me? I swear to god I will show up there in 5 minutes and drag your ass out of there. Turn your location back on. I’m putting my shoes on right now.

You started sharing your location with Rafe.

7:22PM Rafe: So you can read all my messages and turn your location off and on but you can’t reply?

7:23PM You: I’m with my friends. Girl friends. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

7:24PM Rafe: Yeah but that doesn’t work for me. I want you here now so wrap it up. If you need me to get you let me know.

You can’t help but scoff, raising your eyebrows which elicits a question from one of your friends asking you who’s texting you. You put your phone in your purse and try to forget about Rafe’s overbearing for an hour with your friends. Casually, you tell her it’s your mom going off about you not telling her you wouldn’t be home for dinner like you’re 14 years old. But when not even fifteen minutes go by and your friends are sat across from you looking over your head at what’s behind you, you ball your fists and finish the last sip of your drink before relaxing in your seat. You almost wish you would’ve just told them the truth. You can see the confusion on their faces as they blink from above you to eye level with you.

You can feel him next to you, but you pretend you don’t. Your friends mutter a confused “Hey Rafe…” before he’s bending down to your level to look at you. Reluctantly, you turn your head to look back at him and his brows shoot up. He silently places a $100 bill on the table and calmly tells you “Let’s go, we’re leaving."

You make the mistake of rolling your eyes, looking back to your friends.

“My friends said hello, Rafe. Why don’t you say hi?” You briefly look to both of your friends, hoping your gaze offers a silent apology.

He straightens back up, pulling your chair out for you. You finally look up at him, his eyes still locked on you as you now meet them with yours. “We haven’t even ordered dinner. I’ll be home in an hour.” You try to tell him, but he’s got your bag in his hand and his hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet. His lips are next to your ear, hot breath casting a wind across your neck.

“Do not make a scene here. We’re leaving. Say goodbye.” He tells you, and you look back at him once more before looking down at your friends and telling them that your mom made your favorite and you’d rather avoid a blowout. The girls nod skeptically, looking at you and then at each other and then back to you.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll text you.” You tell them simply, before Rafe is tugging you to walk in front of him. His hand finds your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant and your phone vibrates in your hand. You glance down at it to see the name of you and your friends group chat pop up in your notifications. It reads a simple question.

“Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can as you walk to Rafe’s truck before you type out a quick reply.

“Totally fine, so sorry. My mom’s been a maniac she Rafe’s just trying to avoid another explosion. I’m actually grateful lol"

Both girls love the message, and you quickly slip it into the pocket of your jeans as his arm leaves your back to open the door of the truck for you. You look back at him and he raises his brows, thrusting his hand forward for you to get in. You huff and relent, grabbing the inside handle and climb in.

You scoff and shake your head, pissed and upset as he climbs into the drivers side. He starts the engine and pulls into the street, not saying a word to you so you take the silence as an opportunity.

You don’t think before you speak, and you regret it instantly.

“Maybe I should’ve had an abortion."

The words fly out faster than you mean for them to, your tone dripping venom as you look ahead at the lit up road, totally vacant. He doesn’t respond, and you look next to you to him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. His brows are furrowed and his lip is curled in disgust. You know he heard you when he cocks his head and swerves the truck violently into the shoulder.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone drips with hatred, his head cocked but keeps his gaze straight ahead. You’re watching him, turning your body fully in your seat. You wonder for a brief moment if you should grovel, mumble out a quick “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” But for the briefest moment you wonder if you actually did…

“No…no, no. Say that again. Say it, I dare you.” He says darkly, finally turning his head to look at you. Your eyes connect and he’s staring at you so deeply you wonder if he can see the turning of your insides.

You’re silent, and his eyes squint like he’s trying to see better.

“Come on baby say it. Say it again. I want to hear you say that shit to me again.” You flinch when his hand jets out to grip the back of your neck harshly, and you cry out in surprise, muttering a “Rafe, stop.” before he’s dragging you closer to him, your belly jutting into the console. His nose presses against yours and he shakes your head as if to wake you up.

“Did you actually fucking say that? About my baby? Wish you would’ve done it, huh? You hate me that much?” He’s seething, seeing nothing but red, glitter sparkling his vision as he tries to focus on you. You try your best to pull your head back, but it’s no use as his grip is strong on your neck keeping you pressed to him. The bow breaks and you can’t help but shout;

“I don’t know, do you hate me that much?! It’s so fucking hard to tell!” Before you continue, his head cocks, his cheek meeting you nose as he takes a deep breath and laughs humorlessly.

“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Are you okay? I mean shit I know hor-"

You cut him off, pushing him back with your hands on his chest to be able to look at him.

“No Rafe! I’m not fucking okay! Thank you for finally asking! Why did you have to ruin tonight for me? Why wasn’t I allowed to get dinner with my friends? Five fucking minutes away from our house? Did you see any guys there? Any drugs on the table? Any alcohol? I didn’t even get to eat dinner! But because I’m having your baby it doesn’t matter right?"

He scoffs and furrows his brows in confusion, trying to get a word in but you slap him instead. His cheek burns, his lips parted in shock as he looks at you and rubs the mark. He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at you with intent. Your chest heaves and your hand goes to cover his on his cheek and you can’t help but mumble a “sorry…I -"

He cuts you off, hand leaving his face to grip yours.

“I am fucking terrified, okay? Aren’t you? You’re not — you don't get it! Baby you don’t fucking get it. Listen to me…no, listen to me!” You try to wrangle your head out of his grip, but both hands reach over to grab both of your cheeks between his hands, forcing you to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and his nostrils flared.

“Look at me, you remember that night don’t you? I know you do. Look at me and tell me. Do you mean it? You wish you aborted the baby?” He asks you this rhetorically, but maybe you really do wish you’d just done what Ward told you to. You take a deep breath and fight the tears that threaten to spill over, and they do when you clench your lids closed in regret. Your hand subconsciously drifts to your middle and you shake your head in Rafe’s hands.

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is soft now, coaxing you to open your eyes and when you do, he’s ducked his head to look as close at you as he can and you quietly say “No.” He silently nods his head once, and you can’t help the tears that fall down your cheeks and over his fingers.

You’re still shaking your head and you tell him again. “No, no I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it. I want her.” You tell him honestly and you see him smile for the first time in so long and he leans down to kiss you, pecking your lips deeply. Your body is rigid against his, sobs shaking your form as you say again “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay, I know.” He tells you like he’s comforting a child. “I need you to hear me right now, okay?” He asks, serious, pulling away from you to bring your head up to meet his gaze.

“I paid people so you’d get to keep the baby. My father will pay people so that we can’t. Whether that’s right back where we were, or ripping her from your arms. Tell me you understand that. You are not safe. We are not safe.” He says, shaking his head.

You look at him, silent for a moment, and your mind betrays you. You allow yourself to imagine the moment your baby comes out of you and instead of Rafe there, it’s Ward. And instead of your slimy baby being placed on your bare chest, they’re whisked away from you without any words exchanged.

Your hands absentmindedly find Rafe’s forearms that are still holding your face in his hands and you mutter a small “I understand."

“Yeah?” He asks you, and you nod and tell him again that you understand.

“Don’t bring me back there tonight, I - I can’t go back there right now.” You softly say, your mind mushy and your emotions ruined.

You see him nodding, and he calls Topper, asking him if you can use his pool house.

Next thing you know you’re pulling into Top’s driveway, his parents away on vacation and it’s probably the only reason Rafe came here rather than paying for a hotel room.

When you get inside, and the blinds are drawn, you settle on the edge of the made bed having kicked off your shoes and unhooked your bra. You’re watching him pace around to make sure the windows are locked and covered well enough, and when you assume he’s satisfied with the barricade, he finally looks at you. You and all your messy glory. But you’ve shed your pullover and now you’re just in a thin tank top, your bra removed and he looks down to your bump. It’s more prominent, unable to be hidden in regular clothes, and he laughs when he sees the makeshift hair tie closure on your jeans.

You can’t remember the last time you heard him actually laugh. Not laugh without humor, not scoff, but actually laugh with genuine joy. You can’t help but smile with him as he closes the space between you, brushing your hair back from your face and tipping it back so you can meet his eyes.

“Getting bigger, huh?” He asks, still smiling and you nod, hand resting on the biggest part of your belly. At 14 weeks, you were unable to wear most of your clothes, save for 2 pairs of jeans that still closed with a makeshift tie, and some oversized tops and sweaters. You were afraid that you were approaching the point where wearing sweaters in the heat of summer would raise suspicions. You mumble a quiet “mhm”. Your other hand drifts down to said makeshift tie to undo it, freeing your lower belly from the restriction. You shift so you can wiggle them down and over your hips, Rafe watching your movements. You move to stand in front of him and tug the denim all the way down to your knees, allowing them to slide the rest of the way off and kick them off with your feet. His hands drift down your neck, over your arms, to your hands and he grips them, bringing each up to his mouth to kiss each palm while watching you.

You’re watching him back, eyes glued to his as he presses slow, open mouthes kisses up your arm until he drops them and palms your lower back with one hand while the other cups your neck to tilt your head up so that he can crane his neck and press his lips to yours. It feels like too long since you’ve been kissed like this by him, your shoulders slumping in relief as his tongue slips past your lips to flick against yours.

You’re putty in his hands, kissing him back as eagerly as you can while your hormones rage and your emotions are tangled. Your hands rub up his back and around to his biceps, falling down to his elbows where your hands cup, trying to pull him closer to you.

As he takes a breath, you pull your head back to speak.

“You’re gonna love her more than me, aren’t you?” You ask shyly, unable to look at him when you ask, your hands falling away from his body to find the edge of the mattress, lowering your body down to sit.

You don’t see the furrow in his brow as he looks at you confused, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear as he cradles your chin in his palm. He moves to his knees before you, and you allow yourself to look at him as he does, looking at you with worry.

“Why would you say that? Gonna love ‘em just as much as I love you.” He tells you, trying to say the right thing. Truth be told, he did love the baby inside of you more deeply than he understood. But wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t he supposed to? Did he love the baby more than he loved you? How was that even possible?

“There wouldn’t be any baby in there if I didn’t love you as much as I do.” He tells you softly, and you nod in acceptance.

“Not just a way for you to continue your legacy?” You ask quietly and now he’s truly confused. He tells you to look at him, and you do.

“I’m gonna tell you this because I don’t want to hear any stupid shit like this again. M’kay?” He asks you, and you nod.

“If we didn’t make her, I don’t think I’d still be here right now.” Now its your brow furrowing, and your hands move to grip his, cautiously asking him what he means. He takes a deep breath and flutters his eyes closed like he’s ashamed.

“You know what I mean, baby. Don’t make me say it. Can’t live without you...you know that.” He tells you honestly and the tear that falls from his eye as he looks at you through saggy lids tell you everything you need to know.

You gasp without meaning to, and you can’t help the guilt brewing in your gut. The idea of a world without Rafe in it makes you want to throw up, your hands gripping his like a vice, and you beg him to never say that again.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do this without you.” You tell him, tears threatening to fall and he pulls you to him to cradle your head under his.

“You don’t have to. I’m here.” He says simply, pulling back just enough to lower his head and kiss you again, his lips soft and hesitant against yours like he’s asking permission, and you lean back on the bed in approval, relenting and his hands snake up to your bottom, fingers squeezing to drag you further up the bed, settling on his knees in between yours.

Your lips find a pace against his, allowing him to find clarity in your movements. Your hips mindlessly buck up against his and he breaks away from your lips to run a hand down the valley of your breasts down below your belly to the hem of your tank, pulling it up and over your head to leave you bare except for your panties that remain the only barrier he can’t see past.

Your chest is heaving, watching him hover above you, and your hands find their way to the hem of his own shirt, tugging on it trying to lift it but needing his help and he chuckles, pulling the shirt off from behind his head, throwing it to the growing pile of your clothing on the floor.

He watches your face as he drags his fingers past the top of your panties to use the tip of his pointer finger to brush down the middle of your panties, the pressure against your clit making you arch up off the bed to gain friction. You moan his name and look down at him. He’s leaning back on his calves, shirtless and watching you squirm in need of more.

“What is it baby?” He teases, cocking his head while he watches you in fascination, his fingers ghosting over your clothed slit, and you nearly cry in frustration. “Please don’t tease me, Rafe.” You groan, using your feet to try to tug him closer to you. But he tuts and tells you to “Relax”.

“Mama’s needy huh?” He croons, watching your expressions with lust, finally using his fingers to tug the crotch of your panties to the side so he can rub your cunt properly.

You throw your head back with a “yes!” falling from your lips. He uses his pointer finger to push inside of your gummy walls, his thumb coming to rub firm circles on your clit, the pressure tightening the knot inside of your gut. He adds his middle finger inside of you, curling his fingers upward to push at the spongey spot inside of you, knowing your body so well.

His other hand comes up to rest on the swell of your belly, your hand instinctively covering his and lacing your fingers through his. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a rapid speed, your hips bucking up off the bed when you’re about to snap. “Gonna make me cum Rafe!” You squeal, pushing out to feel yourself gush around his fingers, pushing up on your elbows to watch him. He’s watching his fingers fuck in and out of you, the wet squelch of you taking him in over and over. You collapse back against the soft mattress again after your chest stops heaving.

Rafe’s fingers leave your core and you can’t help the frustrated grunt that leaves your lips without intent. He climbs off the bed to unbuckle his jeans and push them down his hips to the floor, his boxers going with them. You lean up on your elbows again, watching him with hooded lids, heavy with bliss as he climbs back between your legs, using his palms to trail up your calves and behind your knees to press them into your chest, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

“Such a pretty mama, doing so good for me baby. You ready for my cock?” He asks sweetly, trailing kisses down your cheek to your jaw and finally locks his lips with yours and pulls back to look at you. You nod at him meekly, looking up into his eyes and he tell you to “Use your words, pretty girl."

“Yes, yes please, need your cock. Please fuck me Rafe.” You ask with confidence, chasing his lips with your own, craving the contact. His hands tighten on the backs of your knees, almost folding you too tight. He’s careful not to rest himself on your belly, though. He locks his lips on yours as he lines himself up with your cunt, but collects your wetness on his mushroom tip as he lets go of one knee to guide himself up and down your slit before guiding himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He stills when he’s buried all the way inside and your mouth falls open in a sharp cry.

“Oh, fuck…so fucking deep. Oh my godddd”. You whine, craning your neck up to press your forehead to his, his bangs hanging in your eyes. He pulls back to rest on the backs of his calves, using both hands to once again press your knees beside you in a mating press and tells you to look down at yourself.

“Look how good your pretty pussy swallows me baby. She takes me so well. Shiitttt” You whine in defeat, trying to drift your eyes downward, but at this angle flat on your back, you realize your belly is too large to see past. You huff in defeat and tell him “can’t see, rafe…tummy's too big.”

Something snaps inside of him and he hastily brings a hand behind your neck to grab a fistful of hair from the back of your neck to crane your neck up at an uncomfy angle, and you try thrusting your head back, but he stuffs a pillow behind you instead, tugging your head up farther. “Look down baby. Look at yourself dirty girl. Watch daddy fuck you.” You whine a moan at the name he gives himself and you look down again with the pillow behind you, watching as his cock drags slowly out of you, shiny with your slick before disappearing again. It’s painfully slow and you groan out.

“Fuck, Rafe…so deep, hurts so goooood.” You whine out, hands finding his forearms to steady yourself. The pressure he’s building inside of you is becoming too much and you can’t help but clench around him. He feels it and chuckles, leaning down to breathe against your lips. “Noooooo baby, don’t do that. You can take it, you’re doing so good baby girl don’t push me out.” He’s speaking to you in a higher pitch like he’s coaching you through it, continuing "Just…fucking…take it” punctuating with each thrust his long cock makes inside you, bruising your cervix over and over. You whimper at his words, your nails digging half moons into his skin and you can’t help the mewls and whines that pour out of your mouth.

He starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with lewd wet sounds, white cream forming around the base of his shaft as his sock leaks seed into you. “Fuck baby, m’gonna cum…need you to cum too. Can you cum for me?” He asks, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand, too fucked out to hold his stare. You look back down to where he’s disappearing inside your body, his thumb now rubbing your pearl and you clench around him before letting go, pushing out again and gushing around him. He groans and paints the inside of you with his seed, mouth agape with curses and moans pouring out like music to your ears. Hearing Rafe cum was one of your favorite moments together. Getting to hear how blissed out he was to be with you. How you were the one who made him fall over the edge.

He’s breathing heavily, hot breath fanning over your face as he all but collapses on top of you, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck and up to your ear lobe where he nibbles and whispers; “I love you so god damn much baby. Don’t ever wanna hear you question it again, kay?” His voice is lazy and groggy, but you nod eagerly and crane your neck so he’ll look at you.

You’re searching his eyes, finally telling him that “I love you…and I love her too.”

----

NOW

Rafe’s hand on your belly moves to leave your skin but the hand resting atop his keeps it where it is. You break your stare with Sarah to look over to him, his eyes trained on the road but you see the clench in his jaw and cringe on his face, his nose scrunched in revolt at having to listen to you describe that night to his sister.

Your other hand snakes around the back of his neck to cradle the cheek that faces the truck window and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder to press a gentle kiss his neck. You know how hard it is for him to relive one of the worst nights of his life, knowing that somewhere inside of him almost believes that it was real.

“I’m sorry.” You mouth against his neck and bring your cheek back down to rest on his shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed before quietly saying “I think I’ve shared enough.” Before opening your eyes again and locking them with Sarah’s, her head nodding briefly and you can see the tears brimming her bottom lids.

It’s a sick thing to talk about, you know you’ve overshared, but it’s reality for you, Rafe and the little girl underneath your hands. It was the only way to really allow her to understand any of this. It’s hard to still give a shit about other people, but you think salvaging an aunt for your daughter isn’t beyond reach. So you’re trying. Whether that’s okay with Rafe or not.

His voice jolts you suddenly. annoyed and tired. “How much longer am I driving here, Sarah?” He asks while keeping his gaze ahead. She nervously fumbles her phone, stuttering with nerves, you watch her hands tremble as she turns her phone upside down and tap it back open. “U-Uhhh, it’s just straight ahead for another mile and then you’re turning left.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her answer, instead following John B’s tail closer, clearly antsy. He huffs out a breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Y/N and I are going to the Bahamas after your friends load the cross into that piece of shit. I need you to keep dad occupied until tomorrow.” He’s curt and to the point, looking over at her briefly, Sarah nodding once and saying “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.”

You wonder if you’ve traumatized her, dragged her into your fucked up reality. How could you not have? It was not an easy pill to swallow knowing her father truly was a monster. You think that up until now she thought that family was above all else to him and that he’d prioritize herself and her siblings above all else. You’re a little bit sorry you had to be the one to crush that idealization.

Sarah’s telling him to turn left and as he does, suddenly questioning “Hey Sarah?” almost innocently. You look up at him in wonder. You couldn’t have guessed what came from him next.

Sarah hums as he asks almost petulantly; “You think dad would ever make you kill your kid?” He turns his head to look at her and she looks back at him sharply, sucking a breath between her teeth, taken aback. Your own head flies to look at him and you can’t help but rush his name out of your lips in a scold, and you tense, stomach clenching in unease, shocked tears forming in her eyes and she finally shakes her head. It’s a trap question - that you’re smart enough to know and you know she is too. He doesn’t expect an answer. Because he knows that she knows the answer and that he knows it all the same.

No. Ward would never. And that’s why he wrapped his hands around her neck that night and shoved her underwater. Ward seemingly took away his little girl, so he’d take his away, too.

You wince and it hits you hard that your daughter will not be having a relationship with her aunt. Not if her dad can help it. The hatred he feels for his own sister stems so deep inside of him that allowing the idea of his child to grow to love someone he so deeply hates makes him sick. He will not allow his own flesh and blood the chance to be rejected by her like he had been his entire life.

It was his way of telling you without telling you that no - Sarah would not remain in your life and more importantly, your daughters.

For the first time, you have no rebuttal. Because you finally understand how deep the betrayal and loyalties lie, and there was no way to explain it away or reason differently. And for the first time, you're okay with the outcome.

Please leave a comment, and reblog! I’d love to hear from you guys what you’d like to see in this story via ask box/requests. I will answer any and all submissions! NOTE that I will NOT add you to the tag list if you are only commenting to add to the list.

See y’all soon!

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron pregnant #dark!rafe cameron #obx rafe #drew starkey x reader #toxic!rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fan fiction #rafe cameron smut

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unabashegirl · 6 days ago

Text

Different 13 — college hs

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author's note: hello everyone,I hope you are all doing well! I wanted to thank everyone who has donated to my Ko-FI "help me pay for medical school". It has really touched me especially how kind everyone here can be. If you are able please please help me. I am desperate. I've run out of options.

If you don't know what I am talking about here is a brief summary: As many of you may know, I’m currently in medical school, only a year away from graduating. Unfortunately, I’m facing a financial hurdle that might prevent me from enrolling this January. My father’s passing due to cancer has left my family in a tough spot, and my mom has been working tirelessly to support me and cover my school expenses. The reason this is so urgent is that if I miss this semester, I’ll fall behind significantly due to changes in the school’s syllabus. The semesters after mine follow a completely different curriculum, meaning I wouldn’t just be delayed a semester—I’d be delayed by over a year and a half. I’ve been thinking long and hard about how I can keep moving forward, and I’ve decided to ask for your help. Any support, whether through donations, or simply spreading the word, would mean the world to me. I’m incredibly grateful to have this amazing community.

--> Ko-Fi link for donations. (You can even donate a $1)

--> Patreon

---> different masterlist <---

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of rape, sexual abuse and physical abuse.

“I am done” Y/N frowned as she shut her book closed. “My brain is going to explode if I continue” Harry smiled as he caressed her back gently. “Can we go get some dinner or something?” She suggested to everyone.

“Keep talking,” Mitch said as he looked up from his laptop. “I am genuinely starving”.

“Can I go too?” Sarah asked, not wanting to interrupt the plans if it was a couples-only plan and she and Mitch had misinterpreted.

“Obviously” Y/N smiled, “I know this place where they sell tacos and burritos close to campus. Does that sound good?”

“So good” Mitch had already started packing, knowing that if he continued studying nothing would stick and he would just be burning neurons for fun.

“I left my car. is it all right if we walk there? Is not that far” They all nodded and started their journey to the food truck that Y/N had pumped up so much.

Y/N had texted James and Sebastian to meet them after their gym session, so she wasn’t surprised to run into them when they arrived.

“There you are” James smiled as he pulled her into a hug. “How was the library?”

“Good” She smiled and hugged him back.

It all happened so quickly that no one in the group had a chance to react. Y/N hadn’t even been able to introduce her lifelong friends to her boyfriend when Brian walked up with his jaw clenched and his eyebrows frowned.

“Look who is here” He smiled as he noticed Harry. Their hands were intertwined, and Harry carried both of their backpacks. “Why are you here, huh?”.

“Brian. Don’t” Y/N hissed she noticed James moving up front to face him. She was nervous about how everything was going to unfold. The last thing she wanted was for a fight to break out between her friends and boyfriend against Brian.

“So, this is what you are fucking, huh?” He poked Harry’s chest harshly, emphasizing on YOU. Harry didn’t say anything and remained quiet. He had no desire to fight. He was also very serene at alarming times.

“You are a fucking idiot” James chuckled as he stepped in front of Y/N and Harry. His body was tense, and he stood proudly with his head up. James had never been a fan of Brian. They were teammates, but Brian always ran his mouth in the locker room and spoke of whomever he was doing. Brian had obviously spoken about Y/N and had referred to her as easy.

“I wasn’t speaking to you. So, I suggest you shut your mouth and get out of my face” Brian commanded him only reminding him of that night. “Before I shut it for you”.

The comment that brought him back to that night. An image and a night that still haunted him. James had been downstairs enjoying a few drinks, celebrating a victory in beer pong. He had also been the first in the room and to think that he had gone to look for them because of a hunch.

--->FLASHBACK<----

People danced against one another to the rhythm of the loud music that made the house vibrate. Sebastian walked past James too intoxicated to even notice him. Earlier they had won a football game which coherently had been celebrated with a party, organized by a sorority. They had arrived with Y/N and like every other party she had disappeared with Brian. James yanked Sebastian by the back of his yellow shirt.

“Bro” Sebastian grind, realizing that it was his best friend. “There are so many hot girls” He breathed then leaned in, “Let’s go get some” he whispered and so his breath fanned James’s face. He could smell the alcohol on him from twenty miles away. Sebastian rarely partied as hard, but he had recently broken up with a girl, which had hurt him severely. James laughed and pushed him back lightly, trying to get his breath away from his face.

“You need a fucking mint. Not a girl, man” James joked as Sebastian threw his arm over his shoulders as they looked through the crowd of people. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked over the loud music.

“Saw her a few hours ago. She was heading upstairs with Brian. Even she is getting some!” James frowned and couldn’t keep his mind from drifting to the stories that people talked of Brian.

“A few hours?” He asked again, but Sebastian was too distracted eyeing some random girl to answer him.

Something grew within James that night. Perhaps it was an instinct of protection. So, since he was far from shy, he started making his way through people and up the stairs to the second floor. He dodged people and pushed them around in hopes to find her. James looked for her one last time when he was at the top of the stairs but there were so people, and Y/N was tiny, that it was useless.

He eventually gave up and walked up the stairs and towards the master bedroom. He didn’t need to search the other bedrooms because he knew Brian was too self-absorbed to settle for less than the biggest room in the house.

James stood outside the door and thought about it multiple times, but something in his gut told him to get into the room. So, he quietly opened one of the doors and found them.

Brian was holding her and not in the delicate matter that she deserved to be touched and handled. He held her by her hair and his fist was in the air, above her, ready to deliver the third blow to her face. Y/N was looking up at him, drowning in tears and blood. Her hands were trying to scratch her way out of his grip, but she was unsuccessful.

In a matter of seconds, James had gripped him by the back of his neck and had ripped him off her like a band-aid.

“What the fuck?” Brian slurred as he was thrown on the floor. James was finally able to get a better look at Y/N. He would never forget how scared and vulnerable she looked. His blood boiled and was quickly on Brian. James’s fist repeatedly met with his face and blood started splattering everywhere. Y/N cried and screamed as she tried pulling James off, Brian.

“SHIT” Sebastian's drunkenness evaporated in seconds as soon as he walked in. There was blood everywhere and not only from Brian and James but also Y/N’s. Her dress straps were down, and the bottom was riddled up to her waist. Her throat was red from the marks made by his tight grip on her. She had arrived in a tan bodycon dress, but now it had a huge strain covering the front and it had been overly stretched by Brian’s brutality.

Sebastian was finally able to get James off, Brian, but not without breaking a sweat.

“Enough” He yelled as he helped him off the floor. “Look at Y/N. She needs us more than ever” James looked up and noticed the crying mess that Y/N was and how broken she was.

“Is he breathing?” James asked as he approached Y/N slowly not wanting to startle her or scare her.

Sebastian kneeled down by Brian and checked that he was still breathing before nodding back at James, who was taking his jacket off just so he could take his shirt off too. He gathered it up and pressed it against her broken nose then pulled on the jacket to cover his naked torso.

“Fuck baby” he hissed as he watched her wince, “What has he done to you?” He whispered as his eyes watered, hoping that it hadn’t happened before. James and Sebastian didn’t expect an answer from her. They just helped her to pull her dress down and pull the straps of her dress up.

“Please take me home” She begged between hiccups. James nodded but stood back. He felt too dirty of his blood to be able to touch her. Sebastian wrapped an arm over Y/N’s shoulder and protected her body as they both escorted her out of the party. James also gave deadly stares to anyone that looked with the intention of asking what had happened.

“How could this happen?” James whispered to Sebastian after they had comfortably settled Y/N in the back of the car and made sure that she was able to lie down. Sebastian sighed and ran his hands through his air. Still very perplexed by the situation. “God only knows what he would’ve done to her if we hadn’t walked in” he mumbled as he started the car.

“I don’t even want to think about it” Sebastian shook his head, hating the evident pain that Brian had caused Y/N. They could tell that Y/N would never fully recover from it.

Sebastian picked her up and carried her upstairs after parking in her apartment. James made sure to prepare her a bath and they both helped her get her feet in the bath before leaving her to her own privacy. They all took their own independent showers and scrubbed their skin until it was red in the hopes that it would wash away the memories too.

“Hi,” James gave her a small smile as he stood by the doorframe. He had thrown on some pajamas that they kept in her house since freshman year.

Most of the lights were already off, except for the light that the TV emitted and her bedside lamp.

“How bad is it?” He asked just as Sebastian sat down by the feet of the bed. She wore a set of matching pajamas; her pair was wet and brushed back. Y/N was finally clean, but her nose worried her. The bruising had started forming and the blood on her lip had dried up.

“I think he broke my nose” Sebastian inhaled heavily, “It wasn’t good a noise anyway” she shrugged, knowing that her parents would probably pay for plastic surgery to get it fixed as soon as possible.

“I’ll call my dad tomorrow so he can check it out for you” Sebastian’s father was a very prestigious plastic surgeon that had applied multiple Botox injections to her mother.

“You need to get some rest.”

“Please stay with me” She was embarrassed, but she couldn’t sleep alone. Y/N made herself in the middle and cleared space for them.

James makes sure to turn off the TV and the lamp. All three lay in the darkness, but none of them said anything. However, none of them were able to catch sleep.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked as he grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“I don’t know” James responded and looked over at Y/N.

“You?” he asked as he ran his finger over his bruised knuckles. He knows her answer before she is able to say anything. James could tell that she wasn’t okay and that she was scared. She doesn’t respond to James but only allows the tears to stream down her cheeks. Y/N cried silently for a few minutes until a soft sob escaped her mouth.

So, James turned to his side and gathered her in his arms. None of them say anything or do anything. James just held her for hours until she cried herself to sleep from exhaustion.

Later, Sebastian woke up in the middle of the night and realized that nothing that they had lived that night had been a dream. So, he joined them and threw an arm over Y/N, hugging her and cuddling her from behind.

--> END OF FLASHBACK <---

“I thought I had made myself very clear when I told you to stay the fuck away from Y/N” James stepped up to Brian, “Were you too drunk that night to remember?”

“I could care less what you want me to do” Brian wasn’t going to walk away without causing a scene. People from the university had gathered around them and were closely listening in. Brian didn’t feel as confident to face James’s anger, but he couldn’t back down. People were watching and to Brian, his reputation mattered more.

“I swear to God that I won’t hesitate to break your fucking face in front of everyone” Their foreheads were almost touching, and Brian tried to stand tall, but James was too intimidating, “Step away and go home” he hissed.

Brian raised his eyebrow and tore his eyes from James’s stare. He noticed how many people were around them. He was considering leaving after he remembered how James had left him that night. Brian was actually lucky that James hadn’t killed him. So, he walked away, leaving them alone.

“What the hell was that?” Mitch asked completely taken back by Brian’s unfriendly behavior. “What a prick”. He laughed.

“Sorry” Y/N frowned as she finally looked up at Harry, who had released her hand midway through the altercation.

“I am James” He smiled and shook everyone’s hand, “I’ve known Y/N since birth” He added watching how uneasy Harry was. James could tell that Harry hadn’t liked something and it had been James’s closeness to Y/N. To be fair, James did have a crush on Y/N, but that was way back in high school. He now loved her, but only as a sister.

“And I am Sebastian” he smiled, “So who wants some tacos?”.

--> chapter 14

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