#e-dating is bullshit

[gods-chariots]

Tap to download.

I remember letters, voice messages, pictures, and videos.

We existed nowhere whole, but between the lines of poems, lyrics, and conversations,

in a plane of code and pixels where I didn't have touch to remember you by.

We hid each other there.

Segments parallel to each other’s lines, rushing, electrocuting. 

I used to hope just not to lose you, but toward the end hoped to keep you somewhere with a pulse, inside my chest, so when you sent me your voice, you spoke from within me.

I am reminded of how similar I am to the machine that bridged, limited us.

I had signed up to become it, become preordained for confinement,

and it was my soul that became desperate

to disrobe my flesh and bone and reveal the metals, glass, and wires that puncture the heart pumping pleas to exist differently, someplace else.

There, under the tree breaking the pavement, scribbled with the aging marks of slides and flips.

In the field of the fenced airport. Along palm trees. Outside your window,

where we would gift each other cities, skies, trips.

Why did I pretend I felt nothing for the picture 

of the scatter of toys and strollers around your feet,

your gentle company, long kinks of hair stark against the pin-straights of your baby brothers?

How could I keep in my throat the erupting ache to be there? To show you, really try to show you how much I wished we could be next to each other? Why didn't I? Why couldn't I? Why couldn’t I break the language of grit and grudge and guilt and find a way to reach into you through clicks, keys, scrapped files of pictures with slow shutter speeds, under that palm tree, make you look me in the eye and feel my palm?

Why was I a machine then, but when temper was lost, and you were dead to me,

and I was remembering other people by what I could not remember you by,

and when you found out, you wished to hurt me, and you intended to inflict pain on me,

why was I real? Why am I human when I miss you, hate you, when I want you gone?

Why did I care about being real only when we hurt each other for it? When I condemned you for showing what I couldn’t? When you spat at me for it? I did not know what any of it meant, and I still do not.

Why do I care about being a real girl for you now only when you have found someone there? Your true heart beats for them, and while I prayed to soothe you in the muscles of mine, I only hear myself from a silent ringer. I am a bar in a panel and bubbles of text and dropped calls.

I miss stitching what I remember. I remember tender offerings of comfort from across the world that I am glad never have been fulfilled,

for if I smelled you on your corpse bride jacket and saw your fingerprint on the ruby pendant, I would die.

Images, letters—they were enough. They were too much and too little. I feel like you would have loved to take care of me in images and letters. Look at me in tilts and pans. Find me in code and clouds. Love me in ones and zeros. You said you love me when I told you how you miss home when you I can't remember which was only something you would have said I can't remember from learning your brightness,

that harsh gratitude that translated far more profound than a wild, extrinsic, real life end. What I remember is how much I bled for you and how much guilt I harbored. I remember clearly all the violent wishes and bouts of painful anger.

We were always relieved to be okay and crawl and grip the phones that called and rung, no matter how unresolved, how futile. I thought it wasn't. For a couple of days. I could've done it. I could've become more. I felt it. I love you.

I remember us saying not to say it, but it always came back, so let us have had it.

Let us have had the privilege to have loved within the confines of screens,

through rushes of wired bolts of lightning, survived by millions of deleted letters, voice messages, pictures, and videos. I lie headless there where it all is. Thank you for knowing we are alive.

[zoennes]

“We met up once and it wasn't even a date. I did it for Amber. You know how she's always going on about Senne. So… Last Friday I asked him to cancel that gathering. But in exchange, for half an hour I had to…”

“Kiss?”

“Talk [to him].”

Zoenne + 30 minutes

[zero-braincells-left]

we fell in love in october - girl in red

i feel legally obligated to put this in my gf playlist (which only has 1 other song in it rn) cause. gay. (wlw way even though whatever the hell I am certainly isn’t cis) and. started dating on Halloween. that?? yeah

[wine-dark-soup]

have seen a lot of edits and gposes for "rarepair week" recently. now it's not something i'm into at all so i may be saying bullshit, but i find the definition of "rarepair" in the ffxiv community really funny. like everything is a rarepair except if your oc dates one of the scions or emet selch apparently

[redhead1180]

Sunshine

Pairing - dark!Rafe x pogue fem!reader

Summary - Reader has a crush on JJ, but JJ is dating Kie. Rafe decides he wants reader to get over JJ, no matter her say in the matter.

Words - 3k

Warnings MDNI - NON CON, DUB CON, drugging with E, slapping, physical fight (m vs f), dry humping, alcohol use, drug use, rough sex (p in v), degradation, blackmail, very dark Rafe.

A/N: This is my darkest piece I have ever wrote and of course it's for Rafe. He is mean SOB in this, so if that triggers you, please don't read. Thank you to @haven247 for the beta read. I am nervous about writing this dark, but hope you like it. PLEASE HEAD THE WARNINGS!

Being at a kook party was not your idea of fun, but they had free booze and it was better than a keggar. After the last week you’ve had, you have every intention of getting plastered and trying to forget your crush and best friend was dating someone else.

JJ your best friend since you were 4 and crush since you were 14, was officially dating Kie. And it hurt, a lot. You knew it was coming, saw the writing on the wall, but held out hope it wouldn’t. The only person who knew about the crush, that you knew of, was John B. He was your brother from another mother, and knew you inside and out. You three had been friends so long, you don’t remember a time when they weren’t there. John B has given you hug and told you he was sorry the day you saw them kissing through the Chateau window. He informed you they were dating and you had gone home and cried yourself to sleep. Avoiding them this past week, but couldn’t get around it for this party.

You had watched them dance, laugh, and make out, and were completely ready to vomit. Or wait, was they alcohol? I was in my 3rd concoction of the night and was not feeling much of anything. Well physically anyway.

Anyway, you were in the kitchen getting another drink, when you heard the last voice, you wanted to here.

“Well, well if it isn’t Miss Sunshine” Rafe Cameron sneered as he walked into the kitchen.

“Fuck off, Cameron” I told him, trying not to say more and start something.

“Anyone ever told you have a venomous mouth, Sunshine” he laughed.

“Only to you, Cameron. Everyone else thinks I am adorable and sweet” my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I bet you taste sweet” he chuckled. I turned around and caught him looking me up and down. He showed no shame for being caught. “What’s got you drowning in booze tonight? Wouldn’t have anything to do with Maybank and Carrera doing the horizontal mambo, would it?”

“You’re such an asshole, Cameron” You go to walk past him and he grabs your upper arm and pulls close to him.

“Most girls that talk to me the way you do get punished” he leered, inches from my face.

So, side note, when I drink, I think I am ten feet tall and bulletproof. And tonight was no exception.

“Let go of me you fucking psycho!” I hissed at him, pulling my arm. Unfortunately, he was so much stronger than me, my arm barely moved in his grasp. “I swear to God Rafe, I am not in the mood for your bullshit tonight.”

“Don’t call me psycho and I think I need to teach you some manners.” he growled right before he grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him.

I instantly started pushing on him and struggling to get free. I bit his lip and he howled in pain and jerked back. I slapped him across the face, not caring this was Rafe Cameron, Kook Prince himself, and no one ever told him no.

He snapped his head back and I looked in his eyes. They were completely black, no amount of blue left, and had a predatory look that actually caused a little fear to creep up my spine. Something else, God help me, arousal shot through to my core and made me soak my panties.

I started to back away and with each step I took back, he took forward.

“Rafe just fucking walk away, leave me alone” I try to sound defiant and flippant, but not sure I pulled it off. His grin was pure evil, reminding me of every Disney villain I ever watched.

*Oh Sunshine, you really shouldn’t have done that” he smirked. I turn to run and get one of the pogues, but he grabs me by my waist and turns me around to throw me over his shoulder.

“You psychotic motherfucker, put me down!” I yell as I punch his back as hard as I can. He just grunts and slaps my ass hard, bringing tears to my eyes and more arousal to leak out of me. My mind was telling me to fight because you hate him, but my body was yelling at me to let him have his way.

He takes you to some room, locks the door, and proceeds to throw you on the bed. He immediately grabs both your wrists and roughly jerks them above your head, causing you to arch your back from the roughness and your tits rub against his chest. The lace bra you wear offered little protection from the friction and instantly your nipples hardened. Rafe chuckles as his free hand rubs over my breasts and pinches my nipples.

“You may not want this, but your body does” he chuckles as his hand slides down over my stomach and to the waistband of my shorts. I continue to struggle, he slaps my bare thigh, causing me to gasp. I know if I looked down right now, there would be a red hand print.

“You’re a feisty thing, maybe we should get you a little more pliant.” He threatens.

I see him reach in the pocket of his shorts, but don’t see anything in his hand when he pulls it out.

“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” I demand trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

“Just a little something to make you enjoy it more.” He smirks as he places a pill on his tongue and grabs my jaw to look at him.

“Open up, Sunshine” he murmurs as leans in to kiss me.

I try to shut my mouth, but the hold he has on my jaw won’t let me. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I feel the pill begin to dissolve as he devours my mouth. God he is a good kisser, I can’t stop myself as I whine in the kiss, causing him to moan. He held my jaw until the pill was fully dissolved, then he lets go, but we continued to kiss. Fuck, what was I doing, this was Rafe, I should be biting his fucking tongue off, yet I didn’t want the kiss to stop. He finally pulls away when air became a necessity.

“What the fuck did you give me, Rafe?” I pant, still trying to catch my breath from the kiss.

“Aww Sunshine, it’s just a little E to make you forget your troubles and help me fuck you without the feistiness.” He smiles down at me. I start to struggle again and hurt him in some fashion. His hold on my wrists and him between my legs really left me defenseless, and he knew it.

“Now let’s get rid of these clothes.” He grabs the neckline of my shirt and rips it down the middle. I screech from shock, and he continues ripping till it is off me.

“Oh Sunshine, you have some beautiful tits.” He groans as he leans down and latches his lips on one of my nipples. I gasp out from pleasure as he sucks, nibbles and licks my nipples through my bra. Thousands of jolts of delight ripple through my body to my core. I began to feel a zing of energy and mixing that with pleasure, I couldn’t stop myself from grinding my hips up into Rafe.

“That’s it baby, let the drug begin to work. Let me make you feel good and forget Maybank for tonight.” He murmurs as he continues his assault on my tits, his mouth on one and his hand, pulling and pinching the other.

“More” I whimper to him, trying to get more friction. He reached behind me undoing my bra and let go of my wrists, I moved my arms so he can get off. My hands fly into his hair to push more into my chest. He grinds down on me and I groan, I feel the heat build in my stomach.

I have a slight moment of clarity, where I thought what the fuck am I doing, when Rafe rolls his hips and the tip of cock hits the seam in my shorts just right to rub my clit and I see stars. I moan out as I squeeze my eyes shut and let my orgasm wash over me.

“Fuck Sunshine, when was the last time you came?” he chuckles, reaching down to unbutton my shorts and take them off. He stands up, using the opportunity of me in a blissful state, to rid himself of his clothes. I look over to him and see his cock saluting me. My eyes wide at how big he was.

“Shit Rafe, I don’t know what you plan to do with that monstrosity, but it ain’t fitting in me.” I say in wonder.

“I’ll make it fit,” he said as he spread my legs and slapped my pussy. I yelped, still sensitive from my release, but it caused a wildfire to spread through my veins. He slapped it a few more times, rendering me a whiny mess. I tried to hide my face, ashamed at how he was making me feel. I knew the E was mainly to blame, but a part of me knew it wasn’t all the drugs.

“Oh, don’t be shy now” Rafe taunted as he pulled my hands from face and roughly kissing me.

Distracted by his kiss, I didn’t notice he lined his cock up to enter me. He shoved it in my soaked pussy and I screamed in his mouth. The pain and burn from his stretching without prep was almost unbearable. Instantly, tears formed in my eyes and I pulled my mouth free.

“FUCK!” I cried out “Rafe, get out, pull out, it hurts so bad!” I cry but he continues to snap his hips into me, even though I was pushing on his stomach.

“Shut the fuck up and take it.” He growled as he grabbed my arm and jerked it above my head, slamming into me faster. I was whimpering, crying mess underneath him. He continued to pound into me, hitting my cervix, lips taking what they wanted from my lips down to my breasts.

“I’ll have you forgetting Maybank after tonight and you’ll only want my cock in this pussy. You’re mine now, Sunshine” he rasped in my ear.

“I hate you” I hissed at him.

Eventually the pain began to be replaced by pleasure, my cries turning into moans as I felt my core heat up and the band began to tighten.

“You keep saying that, but your body doesn’t,” he taunted “you might be venomous, nonchalant, and a raging bitch to the rest of the world, but all you needed was a Daddy to tame that mouth and this pussy. Didn’t you?”

I ignored him, not wanting to agree with him. Suddenly I heard and then felt the smack across my face. I let out a shocked yelp and grabbed face with my free hand. My body betrayed and a rush of arousal coated his cock.

“Oh, you like being slapped huh? When I ask you a question, you answer it, slut” he hissed at me.

“Yes Daddy” I moaned out, before slapping my hand over my mouth, not believing what I just said.

“That’s my good little slut” he teased.

He let go of my hand and reached down with both hands to push my thighs into my chest. I cried out as the new position hit my G-spot and I saw stars. Within seconds, the band snapped in my stomach and I was screaming daddy repeatedly.

“That’s it, you little cunt, cum all over my cock.” He grunted before pulling out and flipping me over on my stomach. He straddled my thighs, pulled my butt up, and shoved himself back into me. I moaned as the new position let him hit deeper. I grabbed the headboard needing to ground myself, as the drugs and orgasm made me feel like I was floating away.

He wrapped his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold, snapping his hips into me at such an ungodly pace. I could already feel another release coming. The drugs had all my senses turned up to an eleven, the burning in my stomach, the tingling in my core, the pleasurable pain every time he hit my cervix. I felt that if I had another orgasm, I would fly off into outer space.

“S’too much, daddy” I whine, trying to push on his stomach. “I can’t do it”

He slapped my hand away and smacked my thigh hard, making me cry out.

“You will take everything I give you. You’re my little cum slut now and you will obey me” he grunted. He grabs my arm and jerks them around behind my back, grabbing both wrists with one hand. With his other hand, he grabs hair and uses both as leverage to fuck me harder.

All you could hear in the room were my ‘uh-uhs’ and our skin slapping together. I was close as my walls begin to flutter around his cock, but he was too as I felt his hips stutter.

“You better cum before me or you’re outta luck,” he panted. “We’re not here for your pleasure, only mine.” He taunts as he speeds up getting closer to his release.

I manage to wrestle one of my hands free and reach down to rub my clit. The added stimulation almost instantly makes me fall over the edge, I scream out and clamp down on Rafe’s dick. My body convulses as I have the strongest release of my life, but the E in my system causes me to keep cumming tears falling down my cheeks as I can’t stop.

“Jesus Fuck” Rafe gasps, “You’re clenching so tight I can barely move.”

He forces his cock in and out of me as he pants and grunts. Slamming into me one more time, I feel his seed shoot out against my walls.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hisses. He slowly thrust back into me a few times before pulling out and flip me over. I was essentially a rag doll by this point.

“Oops can’t have any Daddy’s juices spilling out can we?” he smirks, shoving two fingers in me pushing his cum back in me. I whimpered and grabbed his wrist.

“Stop, too sensitive” I whimper out.

“Stop being a whiny slut” he sneers before slapping my pussy a few times. I cry out, tears running down my cheeks. He reaches for his phone and takes a picture of me.

“What the fuck” I snap.

“I need something to jerk off to when you’re not around”

He shows me the picture. I look royally fucked out, mascara and tears running down my cheeks, lipstick smeared all over my face, bruises and hickeys around my neck and chest. He grabs my phone and tosses it to me.

“Unlock it” he demands.

I do without any argument. He puts his number on and sends himself a text, so that he has my number.

“When I call, I expect you to answer and come to me” he demands coldly. “If you don’t, then the whole island will know your just my cum slut and enjoy it. I have evidence.” he grins.

I nod, knowing he had me, because the thought of the pogues, especially JJ finding out made me sick to my stomach. He tossed my shorts and some tshirt he found to me.

“Now you’re gonna get dressed, go back to the party and act like nothing happened. Your hickeys were from some random touran.” He instructed. “The whole time you pine over JJ, my cum will be seeping out of your cunt. Oh, and clean your face up.”

I move slowly getting off the bed. I get dressed and head to the en suite bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and start to cry. I splash water on my face, cleaning myself up, the whole-time sobbing.

Rafe comes in the bathroom and stares at me for a minute. I turn to face him and he smacks me on the cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting and leave his handprint.

“Stop crying like a cunt,” he mocked me, “You enjoyed it, I think I counted three orgasms from you?”

“It was the drugs” I argue.

“Sure, sure. The explain why you were soaked before I gave you the E?” he asked.

I’m looked away cause I had no answer, at least not one I was willing to admit.

“S’what I thought,” he smirked “Now get downstairs, before I change my mind and take you home, tie you up, and use you all night.”

I ran out of the bedroom and went downstairs, looking for my friends.

Walking around, I finally found John B and Sarah making out in a corner. Pope was in another room trying to woo a girl with coroner talk, the poor girl looked scared for her life. The last room I walked into, JJ and Kie were on a couch, Kie in JJ’s lap making out. My friends, wait no family, didn’t seem to have missed me.

I walked into the kitchen and made me a drink and walked outside to one of the patio chairs. My phone dinged with a message.

Remember our deal and no one finds out. Although with as worried as they were for you, not sure they would seem to care.

I downed my drink and got up to get another one, tears running down my cheeks.

How the fuck did I get in this situation and what was I gonna do. All knew was I hated Rafe Cameron and I would find a way out.

Tagging some moots:

@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @babygorewhore @drudyslut @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @starfxkr @blueicequeen19 @drewstarkeyslut @pankowperfection @maybankskiss @ch4rrykisses

[theresascove]

when you’re up in his bed, am I up in your head ₊ ⊹

ellie williams x f!reader

you’ve broken up on good terms, so why does Ellie feel so bitter about the guy who’s trailing his hand down your side?

tw: not proofread, college!au, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, fluff, childhood friends to lovers to exes to lovers again, party scene but r&e don’t drink (others do), jealous!ellie, rough makeup sex, oral/fingering (r receiving), spanking, kissing, grinding, car sex, a bit of exhibition, r’s sexuality is left open (she’s only ever dated Ellie), title is from Morgan wallen song

wc 2.3k

Ellie Williams. A name you’ve whispered, laughed, cried. It’s one you’ve known for a long time. You went through all the seasons and stages with her. Winter, spring, summer, and fall—good and the bad. No matter what, she was there. When you were crying, she would come over—climbing up that same tree since forever ago to crawl through your window. Late night conversations, fingers brushing one another when you watched movies.

It really only started to change when you both got into high school. It was normal for be that way with each other until you started getting looks at school. Middle school, it was overlooked—but when your other friends noticed how it carried over into high school, gossip started.

“Are you two together?”

“Oh looking for her? She’s by her locker—“

You corrected them, staying you were only friends. Despite that, their comments caused you to spiral—look back on memories like you were in a Time Machine. There’s no way you’d like-like her though, she’s just a good friend.

Next time you saw her though, it was awkward—at least on your end. You brushed off her touches, fearing the looks from others and not wanting them to get the wrong idea. Ellie took notice immediately, looking up from her phone and staring at you.

“Okay, what the hell is going on with you.”

“Nothing Els, just play the video.”

She rolled her eyes for theatrics and pulled the video up again on her phone to show you. That moment Ellie brushed it off as you just being moody, happens. But when it continued?

Ellie made it clear. Walking towards you and grabbing at your hand to pull you towards a quieter area of your school.

“Ellie—!” You finally pulled out of her grip, “the fuck?”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“Why’re you acting like, shy around me? Like brushing me off and shit, it’s weird.”

“I’m not,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Bullshit. It’s because of those friends huh, thinking we’re together?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, “what?”

“I overheard them talking that one time, I’ve also been getting comments, it’s not just you.”

You sit back on a bench, setting your backpack beside your feet. She doesn’t move closer or further, keeping her ground where she stands—eyes looking down at you.

“Does it make you uncomfortable or—“

“Ellie,” you say, exhausted. The conversation came on in a flurry and it’s quickly overwhelming you.

“No, I’m being serious. Talk. Because really is it that bad? That they think that—? Or what—?”

“It’s not,” you whisper, eyes set on looking down at the concrete beneath you as you prep yourself for the conversation about to happen, “it’s the opposite, Ellie.”

Now it’s her turn to grow quiet.

“What?”

“Did you even hear me,” you laugh, but it’s humorless and soft, “I said, it’s the opposite. It wouldn’t be bad.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me..?”

“Because Ellie, I was afraid you’d think it was weird. I didn’t want to loose the friendship we have.”

“You’re not going to loose me, I promise.”

She walked over, converse coming into your view beside your feet. Your hands are almost shaky as you fidget with them, nerves running wild from how fast your hearts racing. This was new, strange—but exciting.

“Can you look at me,” she says, “please.”

Not long after you do she’s brushing your cheek, chest heaving air in a deep breath. Ellie brings her hand down, resting it on her thigh—but her eyes remain on yours. You gave her a watery smile—and it was weird. It elicited the same response in her as it always, but this time she realized what that reaction meant.

She liked you, like liked you liked you.

“Oh fuck me—will you be my girlfriend?”

And that was the day you began to date. The touches were bolder like light kisses when you would leave before class. She would hold you close to her during football games, a blanket strewn over your shoulders. Her cold hand was a comfortable touch, one you knew and loved—until the day it was ripped from you.

High school came to an end, and college was around the corner. With the discussion of going to different colleges, came the discussion of staying together—or breaking up. Neither of you talked about it for a while, avoiding it as best as you can. It ate you up inside, so you hugged her tighter—begged her to stay over more. And she did, until she couldn’t.

The night before graduation she brought it up, laying beside you on your bed. You knew it would come, but when she mentioned breaking up with you—it felt like your heart was stabbed over a million times. Sharp pain in your chest as you listened to her talk. That night her touch felt colder than ever, even as she rubbed her thumb on the back of your hand.

You both cried, agreeing it was for the best—but it didn’t feel as though it was. That next morning you woke up to an empty bed and a text that said, “see you at graduation?” You cried the entire morning, heaving in the shower before you could even start getting ready.

You split then, hugging goodbye and moving to start packing to go to your college. It wasn’t far, but it was a decent distance away from Ellie’s. You felt numb packing your stuff up, eyeing the few creative gifts she made for you when you dated. They were weird, but cute. You packed them, who knows why—but you did.

Now you’re a Junior in college and the semester had only just begun again. You’ve found a few friend groups, made great memories and decent grades. All was fine save for the fact that whenever you scrolled to Ellie’s contact you noticed she hasn’t responded to your last message in a while. You slip your phone back in your pocket, sighing—the action causing a cloud of air to appear in front of you due to the cold.

“Her again?”

You turn to your friend, eyeing you with his eyebrow raised. A funny sounding laugh escapes you, feet shifting and crunching on the leaves beneath you.

“She’s just busy I’m sure. Her major is more difficult than mine. I’ll hopefully see her again for Thanksgiving.”

“Had a feeling it was her. Just let it go, enjoy the night tonight.”

Right, you were going to a party. Stephan, the guy standing beside you, was about to drive you to the house it was being hosted at. Someone named Mich? Mike? Morgan? Whatever. Didn’t really matter. The house was a decent drive, like an hour—but he was wishing to see his special someone tonight, so you and a few others agreed to join.

It was themed, but for some reason—this time—you put in more effort than usual when getting ready. It was some pirate theme, so you and your friends felt a little silly walking around your campus looking like pirates—but it soon would be worth it.

On the drive over, you checked your phone again—chest aching a little more seeing no message from her. Surely she wasn’t ignoring you, or moving on? You had to stop thinking about it because the tears already started to pool in your eyes.

The drive went by fast, no traffic definitely helping. Most of the time you spent at the party was with your friends or outside sitting near the pool—petting the dog. An hour later Stephan found you standing near the stars, eyes on your phone and sighed.

“Stop it,” he says, pulling your phone down from your face, “I mean it. Just have a good time tonight, I hate seeing you so… down.”

“I appreciate it, I just—“

“No not worth it—“

“No, you don’t get it. I just want to know, I’m getting worried. Nobodies this busy, and if I meant something to her she would’ve said something. I just want to know, should I call her?”

“No,” he says, drawing out the o, “again. Not worth it.”

Too late, you had dialed her number. Might’ve been a coincidence, but a sound—one very similar—plays just across the room from you. The moment was similar to a movie when you looked over and found her sitting there on the couch, eyes locked on you. Your mouth hung open, agape in shock.

“Oh,” your friend states, feeling awkward under your friend’s gaze, “I’m gonna go.”

You don’t even wait, steps intentional as you move towards her.

“Come with me,” is all she says before grabbing onto your arm and dragging you yet again.

A flashback almost played in your mind, the moment reminding you of when she did the same thing in high school.

“Ellie,” you call, watching as she drags you outside and towards her car, “Ellie!”

Once you reach her car, standing just to the side of it she lets you go. She looks out of breath, eyes dazed.

“Ellie, are you—?”

“Can I kiss you.”

You blink, breathing deeper when you fully comprehend what she just said. She’s standing before you now, actually—after not hearing or seeing her for months. Her hair blowing in the cool wind, goosebumps visible on her arms from the low temperature. There’s nothing you wanted more than to kiss her. It was a blur, eyes closing as you near her and bring her into a kiss.

Her hands wrap around your waist, lips kissing yours in a way she never has before. It was sweet, passionate—but aggressive, rough. She’s spinning you just to push you against the side of her car, hands sliding to rest on either side of you. You gasp from the action, and how cold her car feels against your back.

Her mouth is on your neck next, biting and smiling at the sounds you make. So easy, you were so easy to turn on. You’re the same as she’s always known, and it feels like home.

Her car lights shine for a second, hinting that she had reached for her keys and unlocked it. Wasn’t long before you were laid out under her on the back seat, breaths hot against each other. Her body was between your legs, lying on top of yours. The feeling was incredible, and you kept pulling her closer if possible—a hand on her back and another on her cheek.

She tasted sweet. Whenever she pulled back from kissing you, going to kiss on your jaw again—you’d lick your lips to taste her.

“Ah—!”

She smiled against your neck. All she had done was grind her knee down on your cunt and you were a mess. She was different. Her hands were almost clawing into your skin, manhandling you into wherever you pleaded. Your mind was melted, far away and dazed as she slid your lower garments off.

“Missed this,” she whispers, kissing down your body until she was face to face with your dripping cunt. She mouths at your clit, licking up at it aggressively after.

“Fuck,” she leans back, “who the hell was that guy? The one talking with you?”

You were dazed but not that dazed. You look down at her, eyes blurry, “huh?”

“Did he do it like I do?”

“Ellie,” you gasp, fingers weaving in her hair and bringing her to kiss you, “Ellie, he’s a friend. He’s also gay.”

“Oh,” she smiles, kissing you gently, “nevermind then.”

You laugh airly, the sound cutting off due to a moan when she licked you up again.

“Fuck Els—!”

“Missed this taste,” she says as she also pushes a finger into you. You arch, despite it only being one finger, you’re moaning and tugging her hair.

She brings her finger out to lick it, moaning at the flavor before pushing the same one back in—this time accompanied by two others.

“Ellie—! ‘S too much, oh shit.”

“You’re soaked, oh my—fuck me.”

She brings her head back down to lick at your clit, fingers pushing in and out of you at a fast pace. You’re squirming, huffs escaping you and filling the thin air in the car. It’s embarrassing how much you missed her touch, and it’s even more embarrassing how quickly you come. One push of her fingers and a kiss on your clit, and you’re pushed over the edge.

“Fuck! Ellie!”

“Shh,” she sits up to kiss you, smiling when you moan at the taste of you on her lips, “there’s people nearby.”

“I missed you,” you sigh, hugging her body close, not caring about how hot you may feel.

“I missed you more.”

“Just.. why you been ignoring me?”

She pulls her phone out her back pocket, “it doesn’t work.”

It’s like her screens frozen—it doesn’t let her do anything but turn the Lock Screen on.

“Ellie what.”

“I don’t have the funds to repair it.”

“I should’ve known it’d be something as stupid as this.”

“It fell out when I was skateboarding to my class, been weird since.”

You brush her hair back, “I really missed you. Tell me why we broke up.”

“I don’t know,” she says, moving to hover over your face, “that was the stupidest fucking decision I’ve ever made, you’re too amazing,” she says before sealing you with a kiss.

“Be mine? Again?”

“I fear I have been since forever.”

[mythvoiced]

-. japan croatia one of those games where it’s just ‘i hope both teams win’

[summerscaries]

OK a bit of a different take on the "I'm piano and you're forte. You're allegro, I'm andante. We're boléro, prostitué." It's obviously a big metaphor and here's what I think is going on (I'm not a musician I'm so sorry if these terms are bullshit):

Piano and Forte: Piano is soft, forte is loud. These terms refer to styles of playing but also make up the word for the instrument itself, pianoforte, two sides of the same coin-both needed to be able to play a song.

Allegro and Andante: Andante refers to a tempo of a walking pace 76–108 bpm, Allegro is faster 120–168 bpm "quick" and "bright." I think this is less about how these tempos symbolize Louis and Lestat and more about how they're drastically different and don't seem to match up. Specifically to go into the following line talking about...

Boléro: With the accented e, boléro seems to be specifically referring to the orchestral piece by Maurice Ravel from 1928. I think it's likely this is the reference due to the date falling within Loustat's marriage and, the main thing, the two opposing tempos of the piece! The backing track is faster than the main melody, calling back to that allegro and andante line. This piece is also widely considered to be Ravel's masterwork and is a very well-known composition.

Prostitué: Lestat thinks that they're opposites not just in temperament but also in bed, and the matching of their oppositions works just as well sexually as it does in life.

The whole verse is basically saying, "We're different and that should mean we clash, but take a look at this example of how we work so well! We're opposites but we slot together to make a perfect whole."

[princessmaybank]

Roomate!JJ fucking reader before her date...that's it

Perfect

Pairings: Sweet!Roommate!JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral (fem. receiving), spit, p in v, swallowing, etc.

Summary: Read the ask^^

Author's Note: This one is a little short and I'm sorry it took so long @everydaydreamer 🩷

"Really? Topper?!" I stomped into the room watching her put her dangly earrings in. She was driving me mad wearing that skin tight, deep red, silk, dress. "Yes! I don't see the problem JJ!" She yelled back at me, damn she was feisty. "Don't see the problem? Topper is fuckin' crazy Y/N!" I shouted. "No crazier than you!" She picked up her handbag and started to leave the room.

Before she could make it past the doorframe I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to me. Her front pressed against mine. She looked scared for a moment. I nearly forgot I was still holding onto her arm until she reminded me. "Let go! You're hurting me Jay." She was really upset, that wasn't my goal. My hand left her arm but before she could run, my arm snaked around her waist.

Her heart was telling her to stay no matter how hard her body wanted to fight that response. For a moment I looked into her eyes and I saw a glimmer of what I think was lust.

"D-don't go.." I muttered. Her eyes trapped mine, dancing back and forth between the ideas of staying and fleeing. I was praying to God that the latter would lose.

"H-he's waiting for me right outside." Her eyes never left mine. I knew she wanted this too. All this back and forth 'fake' flirting bullshit. I couldn't stand seeing her leave this house with another man.

"Topper can wait." I pressed a deep kiss into her lips causing her to gasp but she leaned into it. I walked us toward her bed and laid her down on it. Our lips tangled together as our hands rushed to touch every part we could of the other.

"Topper isn't going to worship you how I'm about to Y/N. No man ever will." I said stepping off of the bed and crouching in between her legs. "Jay..." I silenced her when my lips met the inside of her thigh. "At least let me call him so I can cancel." She whined. A smirk grazed my lips at the thought of her calling him. "Sure sweetie, but I'm not stopping." I continued my kisses, getting closer to her heat.

She let out another whine as she picked up her phone and called Topper. My hands found her lace panties and pulled them down. Anger boiled in my veins when I realized she had worn them for him. The line was still ringing when I gave her pussy a smack. A small punishment for dressing for him. "Hey Y/N I'm outside, are you ready?" I heard his painfully stupid voice come through the phone.

I rolled my eyes but licked a stripe up her pussy to distract her. The sound of her hiss let me know it worked. "H-heyyy..." My tongue gave her a few long licks before sliding inside her drenched hole. "T-Topp.." was all she could manage.

Poor thing.

"Y/N are you okay?" I heard him ask. As if he cared, he just wanted to fuck her then throw her to the side. I lightly bit down on her clit causing a moan to escape her lips. "N-no! I need to caaancel our da-te." My tongue played with her clit and my middle finger found her hole.

"Why what's wrong, do you need help?" Man was he stupid. Can't even tell what a woman sounds like on the brink of an orgasm.

"NO! I-I don't feel..." I sucked on her clit and bounced my finger on her g-spot. "SO GOOD..." she arched her back while humping my face and finger.

I don't even know what Topper was muttering when I reached over and clicked 'end call'. "Aww you didn't have to cancel your plans for lil ol' me..." I said in a cute little country accent. Y/N rolled her eyes with a breathy laugh.

"Come here." She pulled me up and onto her so I was hovering. I brought my lips to hers and it got heated quickly. Our clothes were on the floor in a matter of seconds and our bodies rubbed together as our lips danced.

Y/N pushed me onto my knees and before I could ask why she spit on my dick and rubbed it around so every part was wet. She got back in her position and lined me up with her entrance. "Ya sure?" I looked up at her. She nodded with approval before yanking me closer to her. I couldn't help the small chuckle that came out.

When we were finally comfortable I pushed my tip in with a small gasp from both of us. I inched myself in every so often letting her adjust to my size. "Jay...please.." She whined. I couldn't wait any longer either so I slammed the rest of my length inside of her before pulling out and going in again.

My pace was fast but I made sure to take care of her. I moved a strand of hair out of her face before cupping her cheek and looking down at her. Her eyes were screwed shut and her mouth was wide open. She is so beautiful, I've always known that, but especially like this, taking my cock. "Such a good girl. Wanna open your eyes for me?" I asked gently and watched as she peeled her eyes open. She looked into mine as I jutted deeper into her.

This caused her eyes to roll back and her nails to claw at my back and biceps. She's perfect. "Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum Jay...I'm gonna cum." She moaned, not taking her eyes away from mine. Like I said, perfect. "Mmm shit- cum on me baby.." I groaned picking up the pace. I kissed her forehead, giving her a little motivation. A loud moan of my name came out of her mouth as she released all over my cock.

I worked my dick inside her, riding out her high and chasing mine. I pulled out and fisted my cock. My cum shot out and onto her chest. A few strings of it landed on her face making me feel bad but she looked damn beautiful with my load on her pretty little face. "m'sorry baby.." I chuckled and she did too.

"It's okay..." She used her finger to sweep it into her mouth. "I don't mind." She said after swallowing. Perfect. If I didn't just fucking bust I definitely would've from the sight of her doing that.

Her phone was blowing up with texts when I sat beside her. "Topper is wondering if we could go on a make up date soon." She spoke. "Tell him no." She looked at me confused as I wrapped my arm around her. "You're mine now. Not lettin' ya leave." I smirked and started laughing. She smiled and nodded. Y/N put her phone on the table not worried about responding to him, instead just laying on my chest. "I've been waiting for you Jay. Perfect timing." She sneered with a laugh. She's gonna be the death of me.

[wardenparker]

Private Dick

Tim Rockford x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.8k Warnings: Plus size female reader with anxiety and internalized fatphobia/dysphoria. Tim is divorced with a shitty ex. Food/alcohol. Biting, fingering, shower sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, blink and you'll miss it vague reference to a pregnancy kink, brief mention of body shaming/bullying, a lot of talk about one character being vegan. SO MUCH FLUFF. Supportive love is a wonderful thing. Summary: Things are getting serious with your boyfriend, and that means that it's time for your anxiety to come out to play. But if there's one amazing thing about Tim, it's how much he cares. Notes: We just really needed some supportive fluff and hot smut this week, guys. I don't know what else to say ❤💛🧡

“So uh, there’s gonna be a get together at my mom’s house this weekend.” Tim fastens his watch and looks around for the toothpick that he had set down. He swears he has to lay off the pepper beef, the shit always gets trapped in his teeth, but every time they order from Happy Dumplings for the office, he gets the same thing. Standing up, he slides his boxers back up over his hips and looks over his shoulder. “I might have told her that I would bring you.”

"You told your mom about me?" You were halfway out of his bed and hunting around the floor of his bedroom for your panties when he said it and your head snaps up to look at him. God, the man really has a fantastic little ass.

“Well…yeah.” Tim frowns as he reaches for his pants. “She tried to set me up with some chick from her church, says I need a good woman to take care of me.” He snorts, remembering how his ex-wife used to say she would take care of him until the late nights and crushing pressure of the job had sent her into Tommy Litchfield’s bed. The divorce hadn’t been pretty and he had seen the kids four weeks out of the year. “Figured we had been…. seeing each other long enough, so I told her.”

It's been almost seven months since you and Tim started seeing each other, as he puts it, and you know the time right down to the day. Six months, three weeks, and one day. That was the best accidental first date of your life, and even though his job is demanding, you don't mind. You have hobbies and friends - your family and your own job - all to deal with. Time with him has been the icing on the proverbial cake. Hell, the first time he called you his girlfriend was barely a month ago and you had nearly giggled yourself silly, still in that first blush of happiness in your relationship. "So...what kind of get together is this?" Your panties had gotten hooked on his bedpost and you delicately pull them down with a smothered snort. "Should I be dressing up or are jeans okay?"

“Backyard party.” He tells you. “My brother-in-law pretends he can grill worth a shit, while he gets drunk off his ass.” Tim chuckles. “We eat burnt hamburgers that a dog wouldn’t touch while the kids play in the pool. Or just lounge around it and bitch now that they are older.”

"The kids...as in...your kids?" You know the rundown - the divorce, the custody negotiations, all the bullshit that he went through ten years ago. His ex-wife had been awarded primary custody of his then ten-year-old twins and she had barely allowed him to see them each year since. In fact, he had gotten to see his niece and nephew a hell of a lot more, and as such he has a pretty good relationship with them as adults.

“Yeah.” He shrugs into his shirt and starts to button it up. He has to go back to the office to go through witness statements. Barely getting enough time for lunch and a quickie, he hopes that you aren’t tired of him yet. “They are home for the weekend from college.”

"Okay." Your agreement is instant, although it's muffled somewhere inside your dress as you pull it back over your head. Both of your lunch breaks are almost over and you both have to get back to your offices. "Yeah. Count me in. Absolutely." Well...this is gonna be all you think about until the weekend...

“Good.” He flashes you a grin when your head pops through your dress and he reaches for the gun that’s on the nightstand to loop back through his belt. “Make sure you bring your bathing suit.”

"I don't—" Oh god...that's right...he mentioned a pool. A quiet panic wraps itself around your heart and squeezes your chest, and you duck down to find your shoes so he won't see it in your eyes. "Uh—right. Bathing suit. Got it." You'll just have to pretend you forgot when the day comes, that's all. No harm there. Just silly and forgetful old you.

“Fuck, we need a longer lunch break.” Tim grumbles, stepping over to zip up your dress and he kisses the back of your neck. “Want me to come over tonight if it’s not too late?”

"I always want you to come over," you admit softly. He really does have that effect on you - always reducing you to a puddle of a grown-ass-woman when he's sweet and affectionate like this. "Baked pasta for dinner? I can warm you up a plate if it's late when you get out." There are strains of real domesticity in your relationship and you like that it's stayed functional. You're separate people with separate lives, but they're starting to fuse together in little ways.

“I love your pasta.” He admits, reminding himself that you are far too good for him and despite the fact that he was often beaten up by his workload and the grim reality he deals with on a daily basis, you are becoming a safe haven for him. “But if it’s too late, I just want to slip into bed with you.” He admits. “Wrapping my arms around you and falling asleep.”

"Here..." Your purse is sitting on his bureau against the wall by the door, and you pad over to it to pull out your keys. It's a great big, giant gesture to make, but you unclip your house key from the ring and cross the room again to hold it out to him. "I think we're both adult enough to make this step, don't you?" There's a spare key in a little ceramic rock positioned specifically in your front garden that will make its way onto your key ring when you get home, but you want to make this step. You want to show Tim that you're serious about him – especially if he wants you to meet his family this weekend.

He frowns at the key as he looks down at it, noticing the logo of the manufacturer. “I’m going to change your locks this weekend too.” He decides with a grunt. “These locks are shit.”

Even as you’re rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile. His way of showing affection isn’t always obvious, but you’ve learned to see the signs. “Just take the key, baby. Accept the gesture and take the key.”

“Here.” He digs into his pocket for his own key ring. There’s already a spare on his other key ring, so he quickly works the key off and hands it to you. “You know, for when you plan to meet me and maybe you need to pee. Or you want to come over and jump me in the middle of the night.” He jokes with a small wink.

“So…for all the time?” It’s less sexy and more awkwardly charming when you throw a wink back at him, and you reach up to give him a kiss. “Come on, sexy. We have jobs to get back to.”

He chuckles and pats your ass he you turn around. “I’ll give you a call, m’kay babe? Let you know about what time I’ll be over.”

"Sounds good." As much as Tim always insists he likes your ass, you always have to bite back a small frown when he pats it - there's just too much of it. Too much of you in general. Nope...don't go down that road right now...just check your reflection in the mirror to make sure your hair is okay and reapply your lipstick before you get back to the office. You'll be fine. "See you tonight, baby."

“Wouldn’t miss it.” He promises, watching you walk towards your car with a small grin on his face. While he had made mistakes, been married to his job for too many years, he was trying to do right by you. Wanting this new relationship to work. He’s crazy about you and he can’t wait for you to meet his family.

******

It's four excruciating days of worry until the day of the get-together at Tim's mother's house is finally here. He came over late last night after an interrogation and climbed into your bed to wrap himself around you and fuck both of you into exhaustion. To that end, he is still asleep upstairs while you putter in the kitchen. Coffee made, a pan of apple cobbler in the oven and whipped cream made from coconut cream because he had told you months ago that one of his daughters is vegan. There's a great big container of cold peanut noodles with all kinds of veggies in your fridge, too. All that nervous energy you have has gone into cooking, and you frown behind your coffee cup when you remind yourself that habits like this are why you hate looking at yourself in the mirror.

Tim has gotten used to waking up in your bed, probably far faster than he should have, but there is a connection with you that he hasn't felt in a long time. So it doesn't take long for his hand to seek out your soft, warm skin in his sleep. He had pulled your nightgown off of you and tossed it on the floor, both of you staying naked after he had fucked you. His frown precedes his eyes opening when he finds nothing but the cool spot on the bed where you should have been. Where did you go?

Heavy footsteps on the stairs are your giveaway, and you pour a cup of black coffee for Tim after turning down the volume on your music yet again. “Morning, handsome.”

"Why didn't you wake me?" He squints at the bright light, your curtains and blinds already opened. He could kiss you when you offer the coffee and he does, reaching for you to pull you close for a quick kiss to thank you.

“It was early.” Even though you shrug apologetically, the kiss is welcome and so is the place in his arms. “And you work hard, so you deserve the sleep.”

He hums and rubs your back softly. "Would rather spend time with you." He kisses your forehead and then pulls back, taking a sip of his coffee. "It smells good in here." Standing in your kitchen in his boxers should look odd, but it feels normal. He's been here enough that he knows the layout pretty well.

“I made my apple cobbler that you like…” you admit with a sheepish shrug of your shoulders. “But I made it vegan so your daughter can have some. And…my peanut noodle recipe is vegan anyway, so that’s in the fridge.” He had insisted that you didn’t need to make anything to bring to his mother’s house today but here you are, cooking up a storm.

It takes a moment for that to register and then he's sighing softly. "You are too good, you know that?" He asks, setting the coffee cup down again so he can pull you in for another kiss. "I – you are amazing and thoughtful." He knows he wouldn't have even thought about making something for Zara. Not because he's neglectful, but because he wouldn't even know where to begin making something vegan. "Everyone is going to love you."

“I hope so.” You’re not naive enough to think that his grown kids will automatically love their father’s girlfriend for any reason, and you’ve got just enough in the way of self-esteem issues to be worried. But you fully intend to make the best impression possible today.

"Do you want to shower?" He asks, smirking slightly. "I brought my overnight bag." He routinely keeps a bag in the trunk of his car in case of overnight cases and needing a change of clothes. "We can swing by my apartment to change into something more casual on the way."

"I keep telling you to put clothes in that overnight bag." The offer of a shower is tempting, though, and you glance at the timer on the oven. "The pan comes out of the oven in two minutes. Then I'm all yours."

"I do have clothes in the bag." He grumbles at you. "Work clothes." He watches as you move gracefully around your kitchen, admiring the way you work so efficiently. There's a small smile on your lips that he's pretty damn sure you aren't even aware that you have, but it makes you look even sexier in his eyes.

"Then we'll stop at your apartment on the way." His divide between work clothes and civilian clothes is stark, and you don't begrudge him that for one second. You certainly have two sections of your closet, and hardly ever wear work clothes on the weekends.

The timer goes off and he smiles, sipping his coffee as you rush over to pull the pan out. "Now it's my time." He growls playfully, setting down the cup and moving behind you as you set it down on the oven mitt.

Even as he hauls you backward you have the urge to remind him not to try to pick you up. Thick thighs and too much tummy and saggy arms that you hate are too much for his perpetually bad back and knees after decades on the force. "Come on, handsome," you laugh softly when he presses a kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. "Let's go take that shower."

The softness of your ass against his groin makes his cock start to harden. Making him groan as he pushes it into you with a suggestive thrust. "Mhmmmm, we could get dirty first." He chuckles and nips at your pulse. "Or would you rather I fuck you in the shower?"

"I thought that's what showers are for?" Your shower, anyway. The cramped space in his apartment is no good for anything but being functional. Your house, however, has a large shower stall with excellent water pressure and a separate overlarge tub in the master bath. It had been half the reason for buying the house in the first place.

"That's what should happen in every shower we take." He groans, smirking into your skin before he pulls away to take your hand. "What do you think, baby?"

"I think you're a menace," you tease, lacing your fingers through his. "And I am absolutely here for it."

He laughs as he walks a step behind you up the stairs, still holding onto your hand and cannot resist slapping your ass with his other when you move up an extra step and it's in his face. "Fuck, I love your ass." He grunts.

Too big, your dysphoria supplies immediately, and you're glad he can't see your face as you climb the stairs together. You've never been skinny but it seems like since you got past your thirtieth birthday, everything got a little bigger out of protest. Everything except your tits. "I'm glad you like it," you manage, hoping you sound bright and teasing.

"Next time I have you on your stomach, I'm going to bite it." He threatens playfully, slapping it again right as you reach the top of the stairs. His cock twitches at the thought and he’s halfway toying with the idea of seeing if you would let him fuck your ass. It's not been talked about, and he's not just going to ask.

"Wouldn't be the first time you left teeth marks in me." That actually makes you laugh, remembering the first time your best friend had noticed the imprint of Tim's pearly whites when you had gone to her house after leaving his place. It was how she found out you were seeing someone, and you hadn't lived it down for weeks.

His growl catches in his throat and his hand tugs you back, spinning you around and pressing you up against the wall so he can kiss you again. This thing with you has progressed to the point where those three little words dance in his head when he is thinking of you. Still not quite voiced, they are there. Making him crave you even more when he has you nearby and he transfers that into the pressing of your lips together.

It's a sigh and a muffled groan from you, and your arms come up around his neck easily to encourage him to take whatever he wants. He's fucking irresistible and while you still can't quite grasp why he seems to want you, you're not going to question it and ruin the best adult relationship you've ever had. You're almost grateful to the idiot that broke into your office building and caused all of you to have to make statements to the police.

You had seemed to think that you needed to wear fancy lingerie when he first started sleeping with you, but the loose nightgowns you wear now are just as sexy and far easier to access. Thankful that you had taken his word and started wearing them to bed at night. His hands plunging underneath so he can cup your tit, his other hand twisting to slide into your panties as he groans into your mouth.

Tim's fingers are thick and nimble, and you never would have thought gun callouses could be sexy until you felt them slide through your pussy the first time. The hand fully encompassing one of your tits squeezes in earnest and you groan, hips already rocking against his other hand. "Fuck, Tim."

“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, kissing down your jaw and biting your ear. “Fucking love how wet you get. Pussy is gushing for me.”

Broad shoulders, broad chest, thick fingers, quick tongue, a smile that can leave you in a daze. How would you not be absolutely gushing for him? "Always," you sigh out, breath catching when he curls his fingers against your g-spot expertly. "Need you so bad, baby."

“Just what I want to hear.” His cock pulses against your soft belly and he wants nothing more than to lift you up and fuck you against this wall. Except you would squawk the entire time to put you down. Instead, he pumps his fingers diligently, eager to make you cum so he can fuck you in the shower.

The press of those thick digits inside of you has you gasping and clinging to him as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, adding a third to make you squeal and shake even harder. His eagerness makes perfect sense considering you weren't in bed beside him when he woke up, and you let your forehead drop forward to his bicep as you ride his fingers closer and closer to cumming right there in the hallway of your little house.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asks, always loving when you come apart for him. It’s a gorgeous sight. “Gonna soak my fingers? Squeeze them tight?”

"I—fuck—" Three fingers in your cunt and his thumb against your clit is too much all at once in the best way possible, and you're nodding against his arms as that tingling feeling at the base of your spine explodes and you start to shake apart. For a man who claims not to have dated a lot and have been rusty on intimacy when you had first gotten together, he never lost that muscle memory of how to be an amazing lover.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.” He coos in your ear, feeling your cunt sucking his fingers in deep and starting to squeeze them. “Cum for me baby.”

Your fingernails bite into his arms as you grasp him tightly, entire body tensing completely before falling apart completely – flooding his hand with cum and slumping backward against the wall so you aren't too heavy on his arm. "Goddamn, baby..." you pant with a small giggle when you can breathe again, the orgasm exploding like shooting stars behind your still closed eyes.

“Fuck, I need to be inside you.” He feels the slick coating his fingers and wants to sink inside your quivering cunt. “Shower?”

“Shower.” It doesn’t matter that your legs are jelly, you can make it ten more feet into the bathroom. Your nightgown is pulled off of you before you hit the door, and his own boxers pushed down and kicked off. Leaving you in your panties as he opens the glass door to turn the shower on.

“Just what I needed today.” You’re only half teasing as you strip off your panties and toss them in the nearby laundry basket. “To be freshly fucked when I meet your family.”

He grunts, crowding you into the shower when you climb in and turning you around to face the wall. “You want to talk to my mama with a load of my cum in your pussy?” He grins, biting your neck again. “I can make that happen.”

“You can’t just say shit like that to me.” It earns him another moan and you back your ass up against his hips eagerly. “It’s gonna be all I can think about all day.”

“Good.” He chuckles roughly as his hands grip your hips and he presses closer. His cock folding up against his body and pressing into the cleft of your ass insistently. “It’s gonna be all I think about too. Imagining you dripping. Licking you clean.”

“Gonna have to slip away to your old room to get handsy.” You tease, knowing that his mother still lives in the house he grew up in.

“Fucked my first girl in that bed.” He grunts, silently acknowledging that it would be fitting that he fucks his last girl there too.

“Gonna make me another notch on that bedpost, Rockford?” You grin over your shoulder at him as his hands knead your ass. “I bet it was some homecoming queen. Or cheerleader. Do baseball games have cheerleaders?”

“Sometimes.” He smirks and shakes his head. Aware that you have some notion that he was some kind of stud when he was younger. “But maybe that new notch will be fun.” He poses as he rocks his hips back to take his cock in his hand.

"Getting you all riled up until you fuck me is always fun." All of Tim is thick. From his muscled limbs and shoulders that test the limits of store-bought shirts, all the way to his cock. The feeling of his head pushing your pussy open makes you moan, and you brace yourself against the wall of the shower for him to take as much as he wants from you. There's a certain amount of bliss involved in being intimate with Tim and you can usually push away your insecurities in favour of seeing - and feeling - just how much he enjoys touching you. Right now, the thoughts drop away and the only thing left is yes and more and oh god.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He groans as he splits you in two. “I fucking love this pussy.” His breath is heavy in your ear and he rolls his hips until he is buried deep. “Perfect, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

Perfect. Nobody had ever called you that before, and you had instinctively laughed the first time Tim had used the word. Since then you've tried to be a little kinder with yourself, and accept that just because you don't think you're perfect doesn't mean that he can't think so. "Just for you," you groan happily, reaching back to squeeze his hip. "Only for you, baby."

His lips trail over your skin and he can’t help but continue to kiss you. Loving how you clutch him deep inside your body and the softness of you against him. Reaching for your hands, he laces his fingers with yours and lays them against the wall, sliding his feet closer.

The cold tile against your front and Tim's hot skin at your back is an intense combination that you love – an extra reason to moan with every thrust. His body seems to cover every inch of you, enveloping you in his presence, and it's almost hard to move except to grind back against him every time he fills you up. It's a gorgeous feeling that you so easily get lost in.

“Fuck, how does it get better?” He pants into your ear. “Every fucking time, you feel even better. Addicted to you.”

"Perfect." He is the perfect one, and you won't hear anything to the contrary, panting out words with every slap of his hips against your ass. "Perfect cock. Perfect fuck. Perfect man. I—" For a moment, in your rapture, the words almost slip. Thank god you manage to swallow them quickly. "So good, baby."

“I know you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” He asks, rocking his hips forward to slap against your ass as he picks up his pace.

“Just like that.” You know it won’t take long now, not if he goes just a tiny bit harder like he does when he gets close, and the begging in your voice always gets him, too. Every time. “So fucking perfect, baby. Please let me cum fo—oh fuck— so close!”

Tim hisses, squeezing your hands as he rocks up into the balls of his feet. Thrusting harder into you. “Yessss, fuck, cum for me baby.”

Bearing down on his length this time, you can practically feel his pulse through the prominent veins of his cock as they scrub against your walls. The pressure is just as perfect as the rest of him and before you know it there are stars erupting behind your eyes.

Tim groans your name when he feels you start to cum. Loving how you whine and whimper as he works you through it. Sex with you has been amazing and he hadn’t been lying when he said it just kept getting better. When that final thrust comes and you are pressed tight between Tim and the tile, the feeling of his pulsing cock filling you full of sticky cum scratches that very private, very secret dream you have of one day actually having a family with this man, and you shiver a little with personal satisfaction when he groans your name into your skin one last time.

“God.” He pants, knowing that while he’s fucking you isn’t the right time to say those words for the first time. “So good baby.”

Laughing under your breath, you groan happily and let your weight go against the wall just to feel him slump against you. “Hell of a way to start the day,” you tease.

“Should start the day this way every morning.” He laughs along with you. “Don’t you think so?”

“Why do you think I gave you a key?” Twisting around just enough to kiss him, you hum against his lips and sigh happily.

He snorts and kisses you again. “So I should just swing into the house every morning as I go into work?” He asks playfully.

The impulse is there. The invitation right on the tip of your tongue. But it’s too soon. Way too soon. He doesn’t even know how you really feel about him yet — so telling him he could just give up his tiny bachelor pad and move in with you would probably send him running for the hills. “So you can stay over whenever you want,” is how you phrase it instead, hoping that that doesn’t sound overbearing or overeager.

“Don’t tell me that.” He warns you. “Your bed is softer than mine and it has the added bonus of having you in it. You’ll get tired of me.”

“No, I won’t.” The answer is too quick. You know that, but you can’t help it. Slowly turning around, the unfortunate side effect of losing his warmth as his quickly softening cock slips out of you is replaced by the benefit of getting to look him in the eyes. “I—I won’t get sick of you, baby.”

He nudges his nose against yours gently and sighs softly. “I hoped that I would make it a little more romantic than this.” He grumbles quietly,

“A little more romantic than being snuggly after sex?” You ask incredulously. Sure you’re not wrapped up in the blankets right now, but it’s still the same feeling.

“Something more romantic than shower sex to tell you that I love you.” Tim tells you quietly. “I’m not good with words or romance.”

When you deflate in front of him it’s out of pure shock, but you push off from the wall instantly to drag him down for a kiss. “I love you, too,” you promise him in that same hushed voice. “I have for—for months.” Since the night that he braved taking you to an Indian restaurant and got through an entire dinner before you found yourselves in the middle of a music festival in the park and he tried to sneak grabbing a hot dog because he didn’t want to admit to you that he didn’t like the restaurant you said you love. “I love you so much.”

He sighs in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and chuckling with joy. “Good. I was afraid I was rushing things. Or reading too much into the amazing sex we have.”

“I don’t think seven months before the first mention of love is anybody’s definition of rushing, baby.” Placing a kiss over his heart, you can’t help the way you grin from ear to ear when you look up at him. “But you’re right about the sex being really fucking good.”

“Yes, it is.” He agrees with a roguish wink. “Now we just need to clean up.” The functional portion of the shower never takes long. You’re both well established in your habits and are clean again in under ten minutes, leaving you to towel off on the bathroom rug together in no time. “So I was thinking that after my mom’s, I could stay tonight?” He asks, keeping his tone casual. “Since I’ll be dropping you off and I have a full weekend off for once?”

“I’m gonna call up your captain and tell him I have you handcuffed to my bed,” you joke, careful to keep yourself covered even while you’re drying off from the shower. It's a habit, and even if he’s just been inside you that’s no reason to force him to look at your whole blob-like body. “He can’t have you back until Monday. Girlfriend’s orders.”

“Careful now.” He warns with a grin. “I might like be handcuffed to your bed.” He’s never really thought about using his handcuffs, despite the ribald jokes from other detectives, but if you wanted to, he would let you. He trusts you.

“You? Give up control?” Raising one eyebrow at him in the mirror, you scoff playfully. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“I thought you like when I’m in control?” He asks with a smirk. “But for you? I’d do it.”

“The perfume I wear is literally called ‘Good Girl’,” you laugh, motioning to the stiletto-shaped bottle on your bathroom shelf. “Of course I like it when you’re in charge.”

“That’s the stuff I like?” He asks, intrigued by the name. He never knows that kind of stuff, just that you smell amazing and he always wants to rip your clothes off when he smells it.

“Yup. The little bottle shaped like a high heel.” It’s your treat to yourself. Designer perfume makes you feel a little less like a fat girl playing dress up when you get ready to see Tim or go out with friends, and a little bit more like a full-grown woman. It’s silly, but if that’s what does it, then you can’t be too mad about it.

“I will have to buy you another bottle of that when you get low.” He hums, making a mental note of it. “It smells incredible on you.”

You won’t quibble with him now over the fact that it’s pricey or anything like that. It’s the gesture that counts, and the fact that you’re getting a little bit closer each and every day. “I don’t know how well it goes with chlorine.” With one little joke, you seize the chance in front of you. “Maybe I’ll abstain from swimming today.” No swimming means no swimsuit, which means no having to be partially undressed in front of his family.

Tim sends you a pout. “Nooo, I’m looking forward to getting into the pool with you.” He huffs, eager to see you in your bathing suit and watch you bask in the sun.

“It’s okay,” you insist, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter at all. “Maybe next time.”

Tim frowns slightly when he realizes that you are serious and you will not be getting into the pool. “Yeah sure.” He nods. “Next time.” He agrees before he moves over to the sink to brush his teeth and shave.

“Okay.” He’s upset. He’s upset with you, and your mind goes straight to the worst possible scenario which is obviously that he’s going to break up with you over it. A lifetime of trying to deal with low self-esteem and self-worth issues but still you go straight to the worst-case scenario sometimes. “Gonna go get dressed,” you mumble quickly, retreating from the room still wrapped entirely in towels, as fast as your feet will carry you.

Tim sighs, wondering where he went wrong this morning. It had been going so well but Trina had continuously accused him of putting his foot in his mouth or being insensitive. He had been trying so hard with you and yet he can tell you’re upset. He looks in the mirror and shakes his head. “Don’t fuck this up.” He orders himself with a groan.

The warm Southern climate means swimming happens all the time, but it’s still October so you put on a light cardigan with your sundress and sandals and try to keep yourself from crying and making your eyes red before you leave the house. The last thing you need is to show up to meet his kids and his mother with bloodshot eyes. “Don’t fuck this up,” you chastise yourself, opening the dresser drawer that holds your one swimsuit just to stare at it for a minute in loathing.

“Baby?” Tim had retreated downstairs once he had dressed, sure that you needed some time to yourself. “Are you ready?” Are you still coming?

“Yeah! One second!” Out of some kind of masochistic instinct, you grab your bathing suit and cram it into your tote bag when you snag it off your dresser and rush downstairs. Clothes, jewelry, make up, all of it is in place to try to make the most positive first impression possible. “Sorry, I—” You immediately focus on getting the food packed up into a reusable shopping bag. “I almost forgot to put on perfume. Stupid, right? After we just were talking about it?”

“That’s okay.” Tim approaches you slowly from behind and he gently takes hold of your waist. “You still smell great even without it.” He promises, leaning in and kissing your shoulder. Offering a silent apology.

“Do I look okay?” It’s silly to be worried. You’re a grown woman and he’s a grown man. But you’re terrified and determined not to fuck up again today.

“You look stunning.” He promises you. “If I hadn’t promised my mother that we would be there, I would keep you here and take you back upstairs to show you how pretty you look.”

“Okay.” Nodding twice, your head hangs between your shoulders for a second before you force yourself to straighten up and take the bag full of food from the counter. “Ready when you are.”

“Are you sure you want to go?” He asks, concerned that he is pushing too fast. It seems like you’re forcing yourself to go.

“Of course I’m sure.” The brightness in your voice isn’t entirely forced. You do want to go, you’re just terrified and self-conscious. And from the look on his face, he knows something is wrong. “I’m just—” Your eyes drop and so do your shoulders. “I’m worried what they’ll think of me, that’s all.”

“Baby.” He shakes his head and sighs softly, happy that he can reassure you. “They are going to love you.” He promises. “Probably love you more than me.”

“They loved Trina.” You’ve seen plenty of his pictures of his ex-wife. Their wedding pictures, especially, and even how skinny she managed to get back to being after having their twins. She’s stunning, and successful, and smart. And you’re a dumpy little nobody who sits behind a desk and definitely never goes to the gym. “I’m not like her. At all.”

“That’s a good thing.” He promises, chuckling at how ridiculous it would be to date someone like his ex.

You let out a half-laugh, huffing at yourself, and shake your head slightly. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud, but here you are in the middle of your kitchen about to break apart at the seams over a first meeting. “She—she’s prettier than me.” In every sense, in your opinion. But especially, she’s skinnier.

Tim frowns and vehemently shakes his head. “That is not true.” He argues. “And it doesn’t matter how pretty she is, she is my ex-wife.” He reminds you. “She left me. Took my kids from me.”

“Right.” Blinking back the impending tears that will ruin your makeup and the mood, you nod your head and take a steadying, if shaky, breath. “Right. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m just—I’m being stupid.”

“You aren’t being stupid.” He huffs, hating how you belittle yourself. You are kind and generous to everyone but yourself. “It is just nerves, right? This is a big step and I’m sure I’ll be shitting myself when I meet your folks.”

“It’s nerves.” You agree, nodding again and resisting the urge to press on your closed eyes to stop the water behind them. It would smudge the eye makeup you put on so carefully. All waterproof, ironically. But not touched-with-hands proof. “I just don’t—” It is stupid, and a part of you knows that. The part that pays fucking attention in therapy every other week. “I don’t want you to finally realize you’ve been dating a cow if I put on my swimsuit,” you admit quietly.

“A cow?” He growls the comment in surprise, rearing back and wondering where the hell that idea came from. “Who the fuck called you a cow?” He demands, furious and ready to punch someone if they’ve insulted you like that.

“Nobody had to.” Your sister. Your grade school bully. The woman at the department store. A girl at camp. A boy you had a crush on in high school. Your parents. Nobody. Everybody. “I’m just a little anxious. It’s fine. I just won’t have any caffeine the rest of the day and it won’t get worse. Please don’t be upset?”

Tim shakes his head and he reaches up to cup your cheeks. “Baby, put your bag down.” He orders you softly. He doesn’t want to leave this house until he’s truly talked to you, and if that means being late, then he will be late. “Please?”

It only takes a moment of silence between you before you swallow your protest and set your purse and the bag of food back on the counter. This is it. He’s going to dump you for being an idiot. At least you got to tell him you love him before that happened, right?

He guides you over to the chair and sits you down, kneeling in front of it and holding onto your hands. “Baby, I don’t know why you are so hard on yourself.” He starts softly. “But I want you to know how I see you.” He knows self-image is just that, your image of your own self, he can’t change your mind for you. “I see you right now, and you are gorgeous.” He nods, smiling as he looks at you. “Generous, pillowy curves that make my mouth water and my cock ache.” Licking his lips, he continues. “I love the way you feel, the way you taste. I love your heart, your kindness. Your thoughtfulness. Your patience.” He stresses. “You are beautiful, inside and out and I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You say cow, I say stunning, voluptuous goddess that I love.”

“I know that the voice in my head that says these things is intentionally hurting me.” Holding onto his hands like a lifeline, you end up squeezing his fingers in yours. “I’ve been in therapy for enough years to know that. It’s a skewed perspective. But there really are sometimes that I cannot shut it off. It’s like a train going off the tracks,” you explain, hoping he can follow the line of what you’re saying. “I can see the disaster ten feet ahead of me, but it’s too late to stop it. I know I’m going to go headfirst into the worst kind of hating myself, but I can’t stop it from happening.”

“I know what you mean.” He does. He’s seen the department shrink enough times to understand that. It’s like when he blames himself for circumstances beyond his control. “I’m never going to tell you that you are stupid, or dumb for thinking that way.” He promises you. “But I am going to disagree with you, tell you that you are wrong. Because there isn’t one thing about you that I would change.”

"Really?" There's a second where you're too afraid to look up at him, but you can feel Tim's eyes on you and so you raise your head in some kind of silent moment of obedience and it makes you decide to crack a smile and go for a joke. "Not even my broken brain?"

“Not even that.” He smiles at you. “Because I love you, all of you. The good and the negative.” He squeezes your hands gently, “Love you, baby.”

"I love you, too." You lean over to kiss him, half in disbelief that he didn't ask for his key back and walk out your door. "Thank you. For...for listening. And not thinking I'm crazy for overreacting."

He chuckles and leans down to kiss your hand. “Baby, I think you are crazy for putting up with me, not for how you feel.”

"You're amazing, and it's never putting up with you. I love spending time with you." The sigh that comes out of you is deep and long, but you feel better. The weight on your shoulders has lifted, if only for now, and you manage an honest smile. "We should get going, baby. You don't get to see the twins that often and I don't want you to miss a minute of it today."

“Okay.” He waits another moment, searching your eyes and then he pats your thigh gently. “Let’s go. I can quickly change.”

It's a fast enough trip to stop by his apartment on your way to his mother's house, and once he's swapped his work clothes for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he slides back into the car beside you and you're off to the races again. At this rate you'll be no more than five minutes late, and that is nothing at all.

Driving the familiar route home, he points out places he used to go as a child and then a teenager. Sharing glimpses into his life. Holding his hand in yours as he pulls up to the two-story house that he had been raised in. “I'm right here with you.” He promises, kissing your hand again. “And they will love you.”

"As long as you love me, I'm okay." That's the pep talk you were giving yourself on the way over, and you're feeling a little more settled after the glimpses into his past. You didn't grow up around here so you can't do any such tour for yourself, but it's nice to see a slightly different side of the town you've lived in for years.

“Are you ready?” He asks after he cuts the engine, turning towards you slightly. “Or do you need a minute?”

"Let's do it." If you sit in the car and procrastinate you'll only give the negative thoughts time to come back, so you lean over to kiss him and buck yourself up. "I'm good, baby. I promise."

“You are always good.” He tells you with a wink before he climbs out of the car and hustles around to open your door for you. Taking the dishes you had protected on the way over so you can get out.

There is plenty of noise coming from the backyard of the beautiful little brick house, and the sound of splashing is already obvious along with music playing and people chatting at various volumes. This is definitely a family party, and it seems like the family is already here.

"Uncle Tim!" The call comes up from the pool first, as his nephew catches sight of him first and waves. "Holy shit! Y'all, Uncle Tim actually left his desk!" The teenager teases with a cackling laugh.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tim rolls his eyes in good fun as he waves back. His hand immediately goes back to the small of your back and he slowly guides you forward. “Come on baby, we’ll put up the food inside and then come back out.”

"Holy shit Uncle Tim brought a girl!" A teenage girl's voice calls after you, with as much excitement as shock, and you're in the middle of a fit of giggles when he opens the sliding door to let you into the kitchen from the back porch. "So that's your nephew and niece, huh?" You snort, smothering the sound with one hand even as you try to stop laughing.

“Brats.” He huffs, his sour look simply for show. “You would think I was a ball-less hermit.” He snorts, setting the travel bag for your dishes down and then opens the fridge to see if there’s room.

"Language." His mother's warning tone is playful from around the corner, but she still means it. Foul language stays outside, it doesn't come inside her house. "Timothy Alan, don't make me send you outside if you're going to be vulgar."

“Me?” He points at himself as he exclaims. “They are being vulgar. And I’m the one in trouble?” His question doesn’t stop him from immediately moving around the corner to engulf his mother in a hug. “Hey Ma.” He kisses her cheek and urges her to come into the kitchen. “I brought my girlfriend.”

"They're outside and I can't hear it," his mother teases, blissfully aware of her arbitrary rules and the fact that nobody is actually in any trouble whatsoever. "Honey." She reaches out both hands to you after giving Tim a hug. "He's been hiding you from me knowing I'm gonna steal you away to have a cooking friend again. It is so good to meet you, sweetheart."

"It's really nice to meet you too, Mrs. Rockford." Even as she envelopes you in the same tight hug that Tim got, you look over her shoulder to shoot Tim a surprised expression.

Suzanne Rockford is far from a petite woman. She is sturdy, hearty. Obviously heavier and he has never told you that, honestly believing that it didn’t matter, but now he wonders if he should have. Maybe you would have been less self-conscious if you had known. He shoots you a smile and a half shrug. “Where’s Vanessa?” He asks, looking around for his sister.

"Upstairs, looking for god knows what in the attic? Unless she’s found it already, and then who knows." Suzanne waves one hand and pays that no mind. "Did Tim offer you a drink yet honey?" She asks you, giving you her absolute full attention. "We've got a whole bar out on the back porch, and the fridge under the car port has beer and soda. But I keep the wine in here." Apparently that is a conspiratorial secret, because she waggles her eyebrows at you. "Whatever you want, I'll grab you a cup."

"I'll grab a soda when we go back out," you promise her, not wanting to start drinking too early in the day. According to Tim, his mother's parties are a strictly all-day affair.

“Ma, she brought an apple crisp and a noodle dish. Vegan, for Zara to enjoy.” He tells her, beaming proudly. “Where do you want me to put them?”

"In the fridge, honey. There's room on the bottom shelf." She looks just as proud as he does, and she reaches out to squeeze your hand. "She's doing well with it, you know," she nods authoritatively. "Talked to her doctor about making sure she gets protein and all her vitamins. Doing some really creative cooking, that one. Once she's got her mind set on something, that's it. It's do or die." Suzanne smirks. "Gets that from her Dad."

“I tried some of that vegan cheese.” Tim tells his mom, shuddering slightly. “The sliced stuff is shit, but the shredded stuff actually melts pretty good.”

“What matters is that you tried.” Suzanne nods approvingly. “Have you two gotten to say hi yet?”

“Not yet, we wanted to get the food put up.” He explains, coming back over to kiss his mom’s cheek again. “I’m looking forward to seeing them. Texting when we get a chance sucks.”

“Go introduce everybody,” she encourages, shooting a smile your way before shooing him off. “There’s things to snack on out there already. Lunch in an hour, or whenever Ricky gets that grill going.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles, knowing that Ricky will fight with the grill for at least ten minutes. He moves over to you and takes your hand. “Let’s go see the kids, baby.”

You let him usher you back out into the bright, late morning sun, and for the first time you get a good look at the backyard in its entirety. There are a lot of people here — more than a dozen for sure — and you can hear another car honk as it pulls up in front of the house. The mood is pure happiness and even a tinge of nostalgia, as people greet each other who haven’t seen each other in ages. The air of absolutely everything is positive, and you take a deep breath to bring some of that into you as well.

Tim sees the first one that he wants to introduce you to. “Vanessa!” He half cups his mouth with one hand to shout his sister’s name. “Get your ass over here!”

"Hi to you, too!" His younger sister rolls her eyes and kisses the woman she was talking to on the cheek before hustling across the lawn. She has a beer in her hand and sunglasses on top of her curls, and she has the same stout and strong figure as their mother but with a little bit more grace in her movements.

He lets go of your hand only so he can wrap his arms around his sister and hug her tight. Making her squeal when he squeezes too tight. “How have you been? It’s been a month or so.”

“Yeah, you’ve been busy.” She raises both her eyebrows at you, waggling them for comedic effect, and then promptly nudges her brother away so she can shake your outstretched hand.

“Sorry if I’ve kept him away from you,” you apologize, not ever wanting her to think that you were intentionally keeping Tim away from his family.

“Are you kidding me?” She laughs, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s fantastic. I’ve barely seen him sulk in months.”

“I don’t sulk.” His lips immediately form a pout as he glares at his sister. “I was gonna be happy to introduce you to my girlfriend, now you can fuck off.” Even though he says that, he immediately tells her your name before pointing at her. “This is Vanessa, the pain in my ass all my childhood.”

"It's really nice to meet you." He's told you a lot about his sister and you already knew she was a ball buster, but meeting her now feels like a relief. They're close and it's fun to see Tim relaxed like this with his family. "Believe it or not he's actually only told me great things about you."

“Oh, I’m sure.” Her tone is sarcastic and she’s rolling her eyes, but her grin gives her away as she transfers her attention from her brother to you. “I’m a hugger.” She warns you before she pulls you in for a less formal greeting than a handshake.

"It's okay, I am too." It's a far sweeter welcome than you expected to get, both from his mom and his sister, and you let yourself squeeze her back just for a second before letting go. "I'm just really excited to meet everyone."

“I was so excited that Tim told Mom he was bringing you.” She tells you with a smirk at her brother. “It’s been forever since he’s introduced us to someone, and she who shall not be named isn’t exactly ‘fun’.” She confides.

"Oh?" Having been under the impression that his family had liked his ex while they were together, you tilt your head curiously. "Well, uh...we figured it was time," you offer with a shrug. "It's been more than a few months, ya know? And...and things have been really good. Tim is just—" You glance back at him and end up grinning. "He's really amazing."

“He’s a good guy.” As much shit as she gives him, she would be the first to defend her brother and she knows he is much the same way. Siblings in the sense that she can tease him but she’ll kick anyone else’s ass who does. “And he talks about you a lot, so I think he likes you.”

"You talk about me?" Yes, sure, he told you he loves you less than two hours ago, but you still soften in surprise hearing that.

“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She insists, smirking wickedly at Tim who looks very interested in the top of his foot in his flip flops. “Asking if he should take you here, talking about your job. I feel like I know you.” She pats your arm. “He told me he didn’t want to fuck this up.”

"Did he tell you about the fundraiser he let me drag him to?" He's blushing and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen, so if you maybe pick out something to talk about that will make his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red then that's entirely on purpose.

“Nooooooo.” Vanessa lights up and is nearly about to bust for information. “My brother? At a fundraiser?” She sounds positively scandalized, as if she could never imagine such a thing.

"The nonprofit I work for has dinner dances and black-tie events during the year." You explain, feeling Tim shift self-consciously next to you in the grass even though he's smiling. "He's actually been to two of them now."

“You got my brother to wear something other than those horrible dress pants and button ups?” She gasps. “I swear the ties were from Christmas when the twins were four.”

“We rented him a tuxedo for one event.” The admission brings a dramatic sigh from Tim but you lean over to put your arm around his waist and smile broadly. “You look good no matter what, honey.” Did you climb him like a tree that night because he looked extra good in the tux? Absolutely. But he still looks delicious in his t-shirt and shorts.

“I should just buy one.” Tim grumbles. He hadn’t liked wearing it, although realistically, it wasn’t much different from a regular suit. And you had enjoyed him in it. The sex had been extremely hot once he had gotten you back to your place. “Since you want me to go to those things.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows raise at the offer, and she smirks mercilessly. Hearing her big brother make any kind of comment that trends toward commitment is practically worth celebrating. “Ya know,” She giggles evilly and takes a sip of her beer. “I hear that’s even the kind of shit guys get married in.”

Tim nearly chokes in his own tongue, wishing he had decided to take the crime scene call that had come over the radio on the way here. Even a blood bath would have been preferable to the way his sister is probing for information. He just said he loves you, if he starts talking about marriage, you might think he’s gone nuts.

“Oookay, maybe let’s not pick a topic that makes him want to implode?” You try to joke, squeezing his arm gently, and stifle a laugh. That’s exactly the kind of thing you would expect from a little sister but you don’t want Tim to think you’re crazy the way the idea may or may not have already crossed your mind in daydreams from time to time.

“Jesus, Ness.” Tim huffs. “First time you meet her and you’re picking out our wedding colors?” He rolls his eyes. “Booked the church already?”

“Mom did.” Vanessa laughs, and you can’t quite tell if she’s kidding or not as she blows Tim a kiss and scampers off to keep her husband from blowing the place up while he’s on the grill.

“Oh dear God.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll make sure Ma didn’t actually reserve the church.”

“Baby, baby—” You grab both of his hands and let a laugh burst through as you pull him closer. “She’s teasing. It’s okay. I’m sure your mom didn’t do anything like that and even if she did, who cares? It’s a funny story we’ll tell someone in the future.” Honestly? It makes you pretty fucking comfortable here knowing that his family is full of ball busters with good senses of humor. And that they’re okay enough with you to include you in those jokes.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.” He grumbles, although he’s leaning in to kiss your lips.

“Then it’s a really funny story we tell later on.” You promise him, happily taking that kiss that he offers you so easily. “I like that your sister is comfortable enough with me to tease.”

“They like you.” He points out with a grin. “Just like I told you they would.” He catches sight of the twins and lights up. “Come on, there they are.”

“This is going on the internet!” Tim’s twin girls are pulling out their phones as soon as they see their father, dramatically button smashing and pointing the devices at the two of you. “Red alert! Dad’s girlfriend is real! This is not a drill!”

“Hey!” Tim lunges forward, snatching for their phones playfully. “Don’t make me throw you in the pool!”

“You can’t.” They’re fraternal twins, and the taller one - Zara - reaches out to hug her dad first. “Your back couldn’t handle it if you tried.”

“I’d try.” He immediately wraps his arms around his firstborn daughter and hugs her tight to his chest. “Hey bug, how have you been?” He asks, kissing her head.

“I got a term paper kicking my ass, but I’m doing okay.” Zara shrugs. Her studies mean the world to her, next to her family, but she tries to stay realistic and avoid overreacting when school is difficult.

“She’s doing amazing, it’s annoying.” The slightly shorter of the twins has lighter hair and looks a bit more like their mother, but that hasn’t stopped Joey from growing up the opposite of Trina; well-adjusted and affectionate. “We need to ask you a favor, though,” she looks at both you and Tim seriously.

“What’s up?” Tim immediately frowns, sure that there is something wrong, something he needs to fix.

“We need you to throw Thanksgiving this year.” Both girls insist in unison, a habit leftover from childhood, before Joey continues to explain. “Gran said she wasn’t up to hosting on her own this year so Mom is trying to make us go to Derek’s parents’ house. But if we tell her you’re throwing Thanksgiving with your girlfriend we’ll be off the hook.” The idea that their grandmother doesn’t want to host anymore has been a bummer for everyone, but an even bigger bummer would be having to deal with their second step-dad’s snooty family.

“I—" he looks helpless towards you, hating that you’ve been put on the spot like this. Holidays haven’t even been discussed and he doesn’t know what you usually do. “Girls, look, even if—”

“No problem.” You cut in, knowing you might be overstepping a tiny bit but for the first favor you might be able to grant his kids, you’ll take that chance. “Even if your Dad gets tied up on a case, my house is big enough and I’m a pretty decent cook.” You do look to Zara though, knowing she can’t be too fond of the main event on Thanksgiving. “We’ll pick out some vegan things together, too.”

His oldest daughter immediately perks up at that idea. “Really?” She asks excitedly. “You wouldn’t mind? I know there’s like, a lot of negativity about vegans, some of them are real assholes.” She tells you. “But I just want to, you know, live pure. But I don’t blame people for eating meat, or if they can’t make me something.”

“I made a couple of things for today that are vegan, it’s really not a problem.” Her enthusiasm and her surprise at being accommodated just makes you want to reach out and hug her, but you look to her father instead. “Is this okay with you, hun? I mean my family’s Thanksgiving is clear across the country and it would be nice to…ya know…do something at home. Instead of being a pity invite at a coworker’s house.”

“What? Yeah.” He nods eagerly, both happy that the girls will be there and that you will be too. “Of course.” He looks over at the girls. “This year won’t be pizza because the turkey’s frozen.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” Joey is the first to break the ice, reaching out to squeeze both of your shoulders. “Don’t get the wrong impression or anything, our Mom is great at some things, but hosting holidays is not one of them. Which is why it went to her mom for so long, and then whatever guy she’s married to, and—”

Zara practically elbows her sister in the ribs and smiles politely. “This is Joey,” she laughs, waving a hand at her sister. “She talks a lot when she’s nervous.”

“It’s okay.” With a wave of your own hand, you are offering both girls hugs if they want them. “I’m nervous, too. Your Dad loves the hell out of you girls and I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you.”

Zara and Joey both hug you, smiling happily while Tim looks on. He’s relieved that you seem to like the girls. And while it might be unusual that he’s just now introducing you to his twenty-year-old twins, he hadn’t wanted to force things too early. They had resented Derek’s intrusion into their lives when their mom had immediately started dating him, and he hadn’t wanted to make the same mistakes.

Getting to know Tim’s girls is fantastic. They’re good kids, smart as hell, and enthusiastic about their dad being happy again. So enthusiastic, in fact, that it’s easily an hour later when lunch is being announced that you manage to make your way back to his side after being stolen away. You’re at the food table with Zara while she scoops out a plate of your vegan peanut noodles when you give her a squeeze and tell her you’re going to go grab something to eat — and immediately drift away to Tim’s side as he brings over a plate of burgers and hot dogs to the other end of the table.

“Well hey there stranger,” you laugh, slipping one arm around his waist and sighing in relief at having the solid, comforting bulk of him back again.

“Hey.” He grins at you as he sets down the plate. “Sorry, had to rescue the day.” His brother-in-law had actually caught the grill on fire because he hadn’t cleaned it. Tim had taken over and been in charge of the food.

“My hero.” The grin on your face speaks volumes. “Some damn good kids you’ve got there, Rockford. They kept me well entertained, and we’ve got a whole menu worked out for Thanksgiving already.”

“Oh really?” He chuckles. “Has Zara convinced you to make me fry a Tofurkey?” He asks, knowing she might have tried.

“We’re going to do a dish of roasted cauliflower, mushrooms, and butternut squash to add to the table. She got excited about trying out a spice mix in them and said she’d love it for her main dish.” Hell, it sounded good to you as a meat eater, it didn’t surprise you that it sounded good to a vegan. “And she gave me some tips on using alternative milks and vegan butter in recipes so that more of the traditional dishes could be vegan friendly.” Honestly? None of it sounded difficult, and you’re thrilled to be able to do something for his kids. “No exaggeration. I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s good.” The fact that you are accommodating his daughter is something that makes him fall a little more in love with you. Trina had complained bitterly when Zara had announced becoming vegan.

“I know you were worried when it came out of nowhere, but you don’t need to be.” In fact, after actually getting here and meeting everyone, you’re feeling more relaxed than you had thought possible. “And I—I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” you admit quietly. “Now that I know how nice everyone is, it…how I acted feels even more ridiculous.”

“So you don’t think that I’m going to realize anything more than I’m going home with a hot chick tonight?” He asks, leaning in and nudging his nose against yours.

"As long as you think so, that's all that matters." You don't have to see it, you remind yourself, as long as he does. What had your therapist said to you ages ago? 'You're just not your own type'.

“I absolutely think so.” He winks and leans back to leer at you. “Especially when you look that pretty in your sundress.”

"Oh yeah?" That look is all too familiar to you, and you bite back a grin. It's the same appraising look he had given you at the fundraiser before stealing you away from the party and back to his apartment, which was much closer to the venue than your house.

“Very pretty.” Tim grunts, moving behind you and pressing up against you at the table. “Good enough to eat.”

"Is that a promise?" He has that hungry look in his eyes that you can never resist and you try to school your expression into something innocent.

“Ah ah ahaaaaaa.” Vanessa tuts as she picks up a plate. “Not around the food.”

"Busted," you smirk, pulling Tim away from the table and heading toward the house as subtly as possible.

“You wanna?” Tim groans happily, his shuffled steps quickening behind you. He has zero qualms with having sex in this house, but he had expected you to demure.

“I always want you.” You murmur, practically rolling your eyes at him as you disappear into the house together. “Like absolutely always. It’s a constant state of existence, baby.”

“Yeah?” It surprises him how much you want him. Delights him, but surprises him. He watches you walk towards the stairs. “Last room on the left, baby.”

The upstairs hallway is littered with family photos of many generations, and you quickly look through them as you walk, until one makes you stop dead and “Aww!” out loud. Elementary age Tim in a little policeman’s uniform shares a double frame with a photo of the same man fifteen or twenty years later on the day he graduated from the Police Academy. “This might be the cutest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen,” you grin, pointing to the photos.

“Always knew I wanted to be a cop.” He feels his face burn and he shuffles slightly as he watches you examine the photos. “A little different now, don’t wear the uniform.”

“Nah, you don’t.” You grin up at him and hook your finger in his t-shirt to bring him down for a kiss. “I like the shoulder holster better anyway. Much sexier.”

“Sexier, huh?” He grins against your lips and leans in to press you against the wall. “Want me to wear it for you one day?”

“Maybe.” Your lips quirk against his in a way that absolutely means yes, and your hands wander up under his t-shirt to spread out over his muscles back. “Kinda curious how you would feel about interrogating me, actually…”

“Really?” He pulls back and arches a brow at you. “You want that? Maybe those handcuffs we were talking about? Giving you a pat down?”

The way you muffle a soft groan and briefly close your eyes should be plenty enough of a giveaway. “If I wasn’t wet before I certainly am now,” you grumble, enjoying the fantasy playing yet again in your mind.

“You concealing a weapon?” He asks gruffly, even though he is smiling. He won’t really roleplay with you right now, but you seem to love the idea.

“Maybe…” You can’t help but giggle, taking his hand that isn’t braced on the wall above your head and guiding it under the skirt of your sundress. “Guess you’re gonna have to find out.”

All he can feel is generous, warm flesh. Making him groan and his cock twitches against your hip. “When did you take your panties off?”

“I snuck inside about ten minutes ago.” Your soft little grin turns wicked. “I think I have a domesticity kink, cause I was enjoying watching you at the grill.”

“I’ll grill every night if you stop wearing panties.” He promises with a groan. “My sexy girl.”

“You wanna add another notch to that bedpost, baby?” The two of you are about three feet from the door to his childhood room and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to get caught fucking in the hallway. Just for basic courtesy’s sake.

“Only notch that counts.” He promises, pulling away from you to drag you into the bedroom.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit

My Masterlist!

[heartsforhamzah]

sfw alphabet - hamzahthefantastic

—‘A’ IS FOR AFFECTION (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

hamzah wasn’t very affectionate at first. but as he eased into the relationship he was extremely affectionate. his love language is quality time, so he shows he loves you hanging out with you. regardless of if you two are speaking or not, just simply being in your presence makes him happy.

—‘B’ IS FOR BESTFRIEND (what would they be like as a best friend?)

the two of you would obviously be friends with martin and mandy. the couple (particularly mandy) would 100% feel a sigh of relief when you joined their group. i can see him being friends with the female version of himself.

—‘C’ IS FOR CUDDLES (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

like stated above, once eased into the relationship, he gets more affectionate, and clingy. although his love language is quality time (or words of affirmation!!) he would do well with a girlfriend who’s love language is physical touch. at night, the man need cuddles to sleep, he just loves being close to you.

—‘D’ IS FOR DOMESTIC (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

in the future he wants to settle down, and if you want kids, so would he. i think in the relationship the two of you would split responsibilities. he’d cook for you, or buy you takeout, all you have to do is ask. man is extremely down bad for you.

—‘E’ IS FOR ENDING (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

this sweet boy is taking full responsibility. no, none of the “it’s not you, it’s me” bullshit. it’s a corny breakup, you left it feeling fine, you were sad of course, but you didn’t hold anything against him. he’s telling you whole heartedly why he’s breaking up with you and he’s not leaving any of your questions unanswered. after the whole breakup, you aren’t friends by any means, but he doesn’t treat you like a stranger.

—‘F’ IS FOR FIANCÉE (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

he has some fear of commitment, but you changed him for the better. and he truly does want to be with you forever. after your engagement (i see the engagement happening a few years after getting together) the two of you get married a couple years later. the timeline for this is getting together when you are 21-22 (so now for him! i just do not picture him with someone younger) getting engaged at 25-ish, and married at 28.

i see things going two ways, you guys just say fuck it and get married in vegas (or get eloped), or you plan a small wedding with close family and close friends only. (family is important, so i see the smaller wedding as what’s more likely to happen. but i just cannot picture him at a large wedding.)

—‘G’ IS FOR GENTLE (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he is extremely gentle with you, sometimes taking it as far as treating you like you might shatter. emotionally, he has his flaws. every human breaks at some point, so he has blown up at you before. he apologized, and it has not happened since, hence why he treats you like you’ll break.

—‘H’ IS FOR HUGS (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

his hugs are definitely bear hugsss! i don’t know if he’s a hands around your waist hugs from behind kind of person, or if he’s a arms draped over your shoulders hug from behind kind of person. he’d definitely like this kind of hug though. references: 🔗 - 🔗 - 🔗

—‘I’ IS FOR I LOVE YOU (how quick are they to say the L word?)

he’d say it fairly quick. he feels comfortable with you, and at this point and envisions a long term relationship with you, (he wouldn’t date just to date, he would date to marry 🥹)

—‘J’ IS FOR JEALOUSY (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

he’s not outwardly jealous (he’d never tell you that he’s jealous). but he 100% gives dirty looks to whoever is flirting with you.

a guy at a bar was chatting you up, you were nice, so you continued to talk to the man. you weren’t flirting by any means, but the guy wasn’t really getting that. hamzah solved it but simply standing next you with his hand on your lower back. safe to say he got the hint.

—‘K’ IS FOR KISSES (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

sucker for receiving forehead, neck, and cheek kisses from his partner. when it comes to where he likes to kiss you, honestly anywhere he is a major tease. shoulder, neck, back of your hand, knuckles, lips. he just likes being close.

—‘L’ IS FOR LITTLE ONES (how are they around children?)

little kids loveeee him! he's hilarious and fun to be around. the first time you brought him around your little siblings, they didn't stop talking about him for the next few weeks. in the future, he's a girl dad through and through.

—‘M’ IS FOR MORNING (how are mornings spent with them?)

slow mornings with hamzah are the best. waking up late in the day, you try to leave bed but he pulls you back in.

"baby we have to get up. it's already..." you check your phone, "it's 12:30!"

"please," he says tiredly.

"fine.."

you never could say no to those brown eyes.

—‘N’ IS FOR NIGHT (how are nights spent with them?)

most nights spent on the couch binge watching tv shows and enjoying eachothers presence. some nights are spent with martin and mandy, just hanging out. and then some spent filming a video for the boys channel.

—‘O’ IS FOR OPEN (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he's pretty open to you. his whole life has already been posted online given he's a youtuber. so he's open and straightforward when you get together. but, when it comes to telling fans about your relationship, you guys wait a bit. no particular reason for waiting, yall are private and not secret. so his fans know he's got a girl at home.

—‘P’ IS FOR PATIENCE (how easily angered are they?)

he's patient, especially with you. he's gotten angry at you before (it's since been resolved), but everyone slips up. the only time he might get angry is when he's jealous, but he'd never tell you that.

—‘Q’ IS FOR QUIZZES (how much would they remember about their partner?)

hamzah x reader who is also a youtuber (?!) he could probably quote something you said in a video in 2021.. he's obsessed with you. he remembers everything you've told him (or he atleast tries). if you two were friends before getting together, he is randomly reminding you of things that happened when you first became friends.

—‘R’ IS FOR REMEMBER (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

his fav moment in your relationship is when you two finally got together. hamzah and you had been friends for a while, it’d be soooo awkward if you got together.. right? you both sort of moved on, trying to forget about your attraction to the other, but it wasn’t that easy. after about two months of trying to ignore whatever was happening between you two, you both gave in.

—‘S’ IS FOR SECURITY (how protective are they, how would they like to be protected?)

he isn’t one to fight somebody, but he definitely isn’t going to take no shit. he loooovvvveeessss when you get protective over him. you’d tell a girl to back off of him in an instant, and he admires that.

—‘T’ IS FOR TRY (how much effort do they put into the relationship? i.e. dates, gifts, tasks.)

he loves dates :) whether it be staying in, or going out to dinner, he loves it. i feel like if you even mentioned liking something (i.e. a dress) he’d have it for you the next day.

—‘U’ IS FOR UGLY (what is some of their bad habits?)

vaping.. i know he’s trying to quit (has he successfully yet? if he has, i can change this, but as far as i know, he hasn’t.)

—‘V’ IS FOR VANITY (how concerned are they about their looks?)

not super concerned. he knows you like the way he looks, his smile, his hair, and his overall style. but it doesn’t consume him, or keep him up at night just based on how he looks.

—‘W’ IS FOR WHOLE (would they feel incomplete without you?)

for sure, when him and martin had the hotel sleepover for a video, he was texting you like crazy. when you, mandy, and some other girl friends went on a girls trip he had a countdown on his phone for when you’d be home.

“i miss cuddling,” he whines over the phone.

“you could cuddle martin! he wouldn’t mind..”

“no! that’s not helping us beat the allegations!!”

“alright, well we’re about to be at the mall, i love you, i will be home soon.”

“bye..”

—‘X’ IS FOR XTRA (a random headcannon about them)

he’d date a girl older. not reaching cougar + cub territory, but like 5 years older. constantly getting made fun of for it by his friends. and he stands up for you when they call you “grandma”.

—‘Y’ IS FOR YUCK (some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

in a partner he’d hate someone who denied him time with his friends (that is so toxic, for whatever reason). martin is his bestfriend, and that’d be an immediate redflag. also wouldn’t be with someone who didn’t get along with martin or mandy + his family.

—‘Z’ IS FOR ZZZ (some of their sleeping habits?)

he’d sleep all day if you’d let him. most of your dates just end up as naps on the couch (dream date tbh).

taglist: @reeseisinapiece

[temis-de-leon]

Headcanon:

Is it established in canon that having a relationship with a human is frowned upon in the Devildom? Like, they repeat over and over again how weak we are in comparison, but I don't remember what it's said about relationships.

The brothers don't care about others opinions given how obvious thay are with their affection towards the mc and, as far as I know, the royals mostly care about impropiety.

I have seen a lot of fanfiction depicting the nobles as assholes who only care about the royal bloodline and how Diavolo should date/marry/have a child with someone with a similar status.

You know what I think? Bullshit.

Humans are weak, obviously, and I understand how the entire population of the Devildom doesn't want their next heir to have lesser powers or a shorter lifespan. Diavolo probably doesn't want that either.

I headcanon a demonic pregnancy to be harsher and longer. Like, instead of pickles with anchovies you crave blood or even a living fucking creature; and instead of nine months it's two years long. Idk, something like that. I also headcanon that the fetus, once concious enough, can decide whether their parent (female or afab, you get my point) is able to give birth or not. That would probably be a whole ceremony.

A normal human wouldn't survive that. A normal human would probably succumb to physical or/and mental illness.

HOW-E-VER.

OUR MC IS THE BADDEST BITCH ALIVE. Our mc has the attitude and is set to be a powerful sorcerer thanks to Lilith being their great great whatever.

Diavolo's mother died during childbirth and she was probably a pureblooded demon. Can you imagine what the other demons, specially the nobles, would think if the mc, THE UNIT, gave birth to the heir and SURVIVED?

Bitch, they would adore them. They would make a shrine.

Masterlist

[transhuman-priestess]

Sometimes the struggles we go through to be ourselves can be as rewarding as the end result.

A pretty breezy one here. Only content notes are surgery mention and needle mention. No gore to be found, no sex neither. Just good ol' fashioned yearning.

This is definitely a bit of a right angle to my usual stuff. There's no horror, it's light on dialogue, but its in a very similar space to a lot of the other stuff, just a different way of going at it.

Daughter of Elysium

I scheduled the surgery without telling my parents. They wouldn’t understand.

When I came out as trans they were supportive, in perhaps the slightly awkward way that cis people tend to be when they want to be accepting of things they don’t understand. This was different though.

I sat in the waiting room of the clinic in Montevideo, lined with faux wood paneling and sleek glass. Peak 2010s architecture. An older building, but the clinic’s reputation spoke for itself. There was no way I was going to get this procedure done in North America. Too expensive, too niche.

Too many hoops to jump through, too. Go see this doctor, talk to this therapist. Walk with these crutches. Practice with this fake charger for a year. Bullshit, all of it. I just wanted to be me.

So I saved money where I could. I slept in the heat of the Californian summers, kept the lights off early in the winter, rode the train to work, ate cheap meals, canceled all my subscriptions, lived in a 300 sq foot apartment in Watsonville.

3 years and $100,000 Californian Dollars later, I got on a train in Santa Cruz for a 3-day journey to Uruguay.

It was late June, a few days before the solstice. This far south of the equator that meant the sun rose late and set early. It was early morning, a quarter to 7, and 5 hours ahead of California time. I was used to being awake at night, but that only made the early sunrise more disorienting.

“Lewis, Kara,” a thrill of adrenaline rushed through me as the receptionist called my name. After reciting my birthday to confirm my identity, I was taken back to preop. I changed into a surgical gown and then lay down on a gurney while a nurse ran an IV to my arm and started saline. I thought about asking what happened once the arm was removed, but I figured it wasn’t worth the explanation.

For the next 10 minutes I stared at the clock. I hadn’t brought anyone with me. This was something to do for me, by myself. No partner, no friends. I had brought a bag with one change of clothes, my passport, and my phone. I thought about calling my friend Cory, but decided against it. No sense in getting anyone worried. As far as the outside world was concerned, I was on vacation.

I guess that wasn’t too far from the truth.

At 7 sharp, a couple of orderlies came in, checked my name and date of birth, and released the brakes on the gurney. They wheeled me out into the chilled hallway, and through the double doors into the operating room.

Inside the surgeon, the anesthesiologist, and several techs were waiting. A nurse placed a mask on my face and told me to count backwards from ten. A sweet, chemical smell filled my nostrils, and the world faded out.

* * *

It wasn’t the first time I’d had surgery, so the novelty of coming up from the anesthesia surprised me. Rather than the slow, heavy feeling I’d expected, it was like waking up from a nap. Disorienting, but in a cozy way. Nothing hurt. I hadn’t expected that. Probably the painkillers were still feeding in.

I tried to open my eyes, but my lids only twitched slightly. I heard one of the nurses say “You’re awake! The doctor will be in to see you soon. Everything went well, congratulations.”

I tried to reply, but my jaw moved jerkily and I had trouble forming words. The result was a disjointed grunt emerging from my mouth. But I could tell that I had a mouth, which was good.

The nurse left. I could hear his shoes squeaking off into the distance. As they faded, the thrum of the HVAC replaced it, and an occasional mechanical whirring near me. My eyes were still closed, and for the first time I noticed the green letters in the corner of my vision. Instinctively, I tried to look at them, but they moved with my eyes. After a time I was able to make them stay put long enough to look at them.

ARLINGTON ROBOTICS SYSTEMS

BANGOR, WASHINGTON, CASCADE REPUBLIC

I managed to open my eyes after a few minutes. At first it was all much too bright, everything blown to white, but after a few seconds my vision dimmed to a comfortable level. I focused on a tiny hole in the floating ceiling above. After a moment, I managed to zoom my vision in.

I marveled for a time at the detail in the ceiling. This mass-produced object, fiberglass and paper, contained so much beauty. How many times had I stared a ceiling like this without noticing?

The doctor came in and reaffirmed that everything had gone well. She told me that rehab would start in a few days, once my new body’s systems stabilized and adjusted to neural commands. I tried to smile but couldn’t manage to get my face to move right.

The doctor chuckled and plugged a display into a port on the back of my new neck. She held it up to me, and I watched as the words “What is this for?” appeared on it. She explained that until my vocal rehab started to kick in, this display would help me communicate.

She told me to raise my arms out to my sides. I struggled with this task for a moment before finally managing to do so. For the first time I got a look at the body I’d picked out from the inside.

Gray plating, seams that slid over each other, an unapologetically mechanical body. I’d wanted that. They’re getting good at synthetic skin these days, but I wanted to distance myself from humanity. There was nothing wrong with humanity, but it never spoke to me. I’d always been somewhat apart.

* * *

I slept most of that first day. The next day they let me eat. The bioprocessor seemed to be working, the staff said, but I should keep it light, and stick to carbs rather than fat and protein until the new tract could build up a sufficient biome to support those.

Odd as it sounds, it was 36 hours post-op before I realized I hadn’t peed. The charging station that I hooked into took care of filtration and detox of what little biomass I had left. I felt suddenly elated. I actually tried to get up out of bed, and promptly tripped over my own foot, smashing my face against a wall.

The nurses rushed in, worry on their faces, but I couldn’t stop laughing, and that’s when I heard my voice.

It wasn’t like my old voice. It wasn’t cold and computerized, but warm, and rich, like an old Roland Jupiter, full of dense harmonics, singing highs, and comforting, enveloping lows.

Soon I was sitting on the floor, sobbing. My eyes didn’t water anymore, but I still went through the motions. I held my gray plastic hands to my face, and touched them to my cheeks. I felt the subtle vibrations as motors moved my eyes around. I had never felt so happy, so myself. So real.

* * *

After a week I was able to clumsily walk around the hospital room, and they moved me to the recovery house. I met a few other converts there. There was a girl named Morgan from Seattle, a guy named Case from Kansas City, a few others. I mostly kept to myself.

I started speech therapy shortly after the move. Lots of reading convoluted sentences, but also singing, reading poetry, even some play-acting. I grew to love my voice. It was obviously synthetic, but that only made it feel more like a part of me.

Motor therapy was interesting. They asked me if I played any instruments. I told them I played bass. The therapist walked to a closet and returned with a bass made entirely out of carbon fiber. I asked why they made it from that, the therapist told me I’d see shortly, and handed me the Bass.

I immediately gripped the neck with far more force than I’d intended, denting the frets and the strings. I said I understood now.

Time flew. The solstice came and went, and by August I could speak clearly, play “Highway Star,” and wash my own chassis without damaging it. I could dress myself. I could walk without tripping over my feet.

On an evening in early August, I bade farewell to my fellow converts at the recovery house, and made my way to the train station. I could have taken a cab, or the bus, but I opted to walk. It was 8 miles and took all night, but I enjoyed every moment of it. Never tiring, stopping for food to recharge myself here and there at convenience stores and night markets.

I settled into my roomette for the trip back to Santa Cruz, looking out at Montevideo Bay. I saw my reflection in the window of my train, and for the first time, really took it in, with eyes that were my own.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 2- Professor! Kakashi x Nurse!Reader

        It started out harmless enough. The two of you started in the same month, both confused on a few things about the college and had to guide each orher for help. Then it turned into him popping into your office for a nap on one of the beds every now and then to nearly everyday. This has become routine for you. Making sure there was always a spare bed for Kakashi to hide from his work and take a nap on. It seemed harmless. It felt harmless.

        Aside from the gushing crush you had on the man. You and probably every woman in town was head over heels for Kakashi. The man was irresitable. It was a shame that Kakashi had no interest in dating. At least that was the vibe he gave off. No matter how many times you squeezed the thought in, he would just return to his book.

"Oof, what a day." You sighed heavily before looking at the time.

        A light ray of crimson coated your cheeks knowing that Kakashi was about to enter. Prepping the bed by your desk, you tried to compose yourself. You were afraid of ruining your friendship with Kakashi if he ever found out about you crushing over him. Just the thought of him straying away from you hurt.

"Are there children around?" Kakashi asked with a loud yawn as he entered the office. A soft chuckle escaped your lips,

"They're not children, per se, but no. You are free to rant." 

"Good," He plopped himself on the bed, "They kept asking questions while I was trying to read." He mutteted into the pillow.

"You shouldn't be reading if you're supposed to be teaching."

"I was at a good part."

"You're always at a good part," You laughed. Pulling the blanket over him like a child, you bend down to his level, "Perhaps I should borrow that book? You never let go of it."

        Kakashi glanced in your direction. He made eye contact with your (e/c) orbs. They were beautiful. There was the urge to pull you into the bed with him. To engulf you in his embrace. Rolling his head back into the pillow, Kakashi just let you ramble. He didn't want you to see his fluster under his mask. You were never going to read his books. Never.

"Miss (y/n), can you check me, please?" A young man asked. 

        Kakashi grumbled lowly as you hurried to pull the divider to cover him. He could hear the tone the men gave you. He found it both irritating yet cute how ignorant you were. You were oblivious to how all the men drooled over you. He loved it how you always ignored their advances. You were so good at controlling your emotions, expect towards him. Kakashi saw the side of you that you tried to hide. Your cute little fluster that he could only make you do. 

"So (y/n)-"

"Either miss or last name." You corrected the young man. Kakashi turned, wondering where this kid found the balls to call you by your first name.

"I hear you're single-"

"Where were you hurt again?" You asked, trying to do your job.

        Kakashi knew where this was going. It was a good thing he learned the art of bullshit while he was younger. Giving the best fake cough anyone has ever heard, Kakashi groaned as he called for you. It even took you by surprise. Kakashi smiled under his mask as he heard you tell the young man to rest when he got to the dorm. Hearing the door close, Kakashi did another cough. You moved the divider and laughed. That smile should only be for him.

"You're so bad." You said with a bright smile. Kakashi's eyes soften,

"That's not what you say to someone's who is sick."

"Awe, my bad. Let me do a check up then."

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

        Neither one of you know how, but somehow the Dean found out about Kakashi's little nap times in your office. She had to give you two a small scolding about professionalism. Kakashi was disappointed and so were you. You were going to miss Kakashi's little visits. It was hard for the two of you to hang out after work due to your different positions. 

        There was one other problem that occurred once the Dean found out. Both students and teachers heard and started to assume things. You had noticed the awkwardness in the air when around the other women. That and a lot of the male students were being quite cold and harsh towards you. It started to hurt. You did nothing wrong, yet it felt like you did.

"Hey, Kakashi, you're not busy, are you?" You asked.

        It was a long day for you. You felt more drained than ever. While your day had finally ended, you knew that Kakashi still had a few hours to go. He was sitting at his desk in the teacher's tower. Each professor got their own room for their work and for students to come and ask for help. You had decided to check on him, wondering how he was handling the change. Kakashi raised his head from his work and motioned you in. You closed the door behind you,

"I was wondering when you'd stop by," Kakashi said softly, watching you take a seat on his couch, "You look tired. Normally that's my look."

"I am tired." You sigh, "It just feels like a lot lately."

"Sounds like you need a nap," Kakashi chuckled as he made his way over to you.

        Your cheeks flustered as Kakashi stood in front of you. He seemed so tall from this angle. A small gasp escaped your lips as he hovered right over you and pressed something under the couch. Within the second, the couch changed into a bed. You yelped as you laid on your back, staring up at Kakashi in shock. He took his mask off, grinning towards you,

"Ordered it five minutes after Tsunade lectured us." He explained, reading your mind. 

"Y-Your mask-" He was gorgeous. Never had anyone seen him without his mask, "W-Why?!"

"Hm? Because you're tired." Was all he said.

        It hadn't occurred to you the position you were in. Kakashi was hovering over your body as you laid beneath him on his bed. Your hair was all over the place and your clothes were ruffled from the sudden shock of laying down. Right now, Kakashi could only see you as a meal in front of him. He tossed his mask aside before heading towards the door. You raised your head as he placed a 'Do Not Disturb' sign and proceeded to lock.

"What are you doing?" You asked as your heart started to race a mile a minute. Kakashi crawled onto the bed beside you,

"I'm about to get a check up from the best nurse on campus," Kakashi pulled you towards him, his lips against yours, "I'm not feeling too well."

        If your face could burn any redder, it would. Kakashi slid you onto his lap and pressed his lips against yours. It was soft, yet so demanding. His hands reached up to tangle themselves against your (h/l) (h/c) hair. There were sparks. Kakashi licked your lips, wanting to test you. There was no questioning what to do. You allowed yourself to fall into his little trap. Kakashi's tongue explored the dampness of your mouth. This was a new tingly feeling that you were enjoying.

          While you were engulfed in the kiss, Kakashi decided to test the waters. He was a man too and it drove him crazy being unable to see you everyday. He was waiting for this moment. For you to come to him. His hands slid down from your head to your waist. With ease, your coat came off and your button down shirt was revealed. His hands stroked up your stomach, earning a mewl from you.

"Kakashi," You gasped, catching your breathe. Kakashi's hand reached your breast, toying with your nipple thru the fabric,

"Told you I'm not feeling too well. I think there is only one cure," He chuckled, enjoying your new expressions towards his touches, "Don't you agree?"

"Mhm, w-well-" 

          You shivered slightly as Kakashi toyed with your breasts. There was a pool of heat forming betwewn your legs as you felt his bulge grind agaisnt youe clothed pussy. Never would you have thought this to happen, but it was feeling so good.

           Kakashi watched you tremble from his touch. It sparked an urge in him to hurry. With swift motion he undid your bra and took one of your nipples in his mouth. While one hand held your waist in place, his other strated to trail down to your wet pussy. Your gasps and mewls were music to his ears.

          His fingers stroked your soaked fabric, touching you in places you had only dreamed of. Swiftly, Kakashi laid your back against the bed, unable to hold himself back much longer. His fingers slid past your panties, directly rubbing your clit. His eyes sparkled as you cried out his name, raising your hips ever so slightly.

"(Y/n), can you take care of me?" Kakashi whispered in your ear, poking his fingers against your throbbing hole.

           You could only whimper in response as you felt your stomach twist and turn. Kakashi licked his lips before engulf yours once more. He lowered his pants, revealing his cock that was already dripping precum in anticipation. Kakashi fasten his fingers, wanting to prep you before entering. He felt you tighten against his fingers, arching your back as you started to reach your climax.

"K-Kakashiiii," You moaned out, feeling a burning rush burst from you. You took a moment to catch your breathe, watching as Kakashi poked his tip to your hole, "P-Please, put it in" You begged quietly. Kakashi chuckled,

"I thought you were taking care of me?" He teased.

          Kakashi held your waist as he continued to push hinself inside your drenched cunt. He told you to relax as you whimpered and whined at the feeling of being stretched out. Your vision started to blur as you felt him fill you. He groaned lowly once he was fully in and took a moment to let you adjust.

          You swore you could see stars. Kakashi slowly pulled out, making you feel empty before slamming back into you. His hips making contact with you as the noises you made grew louder. Kakashi silenced you with a kiss, not want anyone else to hear those delicious lewd sounds. Those were for him and him alone.

           Another orgasm was brought to you as Kakashi's pace fasten. Every time you sucked him in made his mind go hazy. Oh how he wanted to hear you more. Glancing at the time, Kakashi grunt as he hurried. You cried out as you felt him twitch inside. Begging him to keep going, Kakashi complied. He wrapped his arms around you, gently kissing you before thrusting one last time. Your inside being filled with his cum.

"Kakashi! You better not be napping in there!" Tsunade yelled out as she knocked on the door.

          Both you and Kakashi flinched at the sudden yell. With speed, Kakashi fixed you up and hid you under his desk. He fixed the bed and looked for something to spray the room to hide the smell of sex. You resisted a giggle, hearing him struggle before finally answering the door. It was a small conversation before Kakashi closed the door, returning to you.

"You're always welcome to stop by," Kakashi told you, fixing your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist,

"And help you with your little issue?"

"My personal nurse."

[missmeinyourbones]

ahhh congrats on your milestone leah!! you deserve it all and more!

oh my god all these prompts are so good and you write everyone so well, how can we choose? for your event, may I suggest eren and "this this the first time i've felt the need to confess." or "it's okay, we're the best of friends."

ty for hosting this! I can't wait to see everything you come out with ٩(⌒‿⌒)۶

FIRST TIME I'VE FELT THE NEED TO CONFESS (e. jaeger)

a/n: drunk eren and dd reader, mutual pining but eren is shameless and reader has class, LOSER CORE EREN, reader referred to as "ma'am" once in a teasing context

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

If anyone saw this situation out of context, it might be funny. But in content—your context specifically—it's nothing less than a headache.

Because you've been saddled with the pleasure of driving home an absolutely trashed Eren, pulling him by his collar to your car as he whines and thrashes with objections.

"One date," he repeats, plopping dead weight into the passenger seat of your car and looking up at you with clouded eyes.

Your response is expected, "Nope."

Eren opens his mouth, but before you can hear whatever bullshit he was conjuring up, you shut his door and walk over to the other side of the car.

Without fail, as soon as you open your door, he's continuing his pleading.

"Just dinner? That's literally all I'm asking for, just one dinner where—"

"You know," you interrupt him as you slide into the driver's seat, "you're a sloppy drunk."

You watch the thought process (or lack thereof) in his mind as he smirks and leans his seat further back, "Drinking isn't the only thing I do sloppy if you—"

"Don't finish that sentence."

Eren's eyes travel in amusement from your blushing and aggravated face to where you turn the key in the ignition and white knuckle the steering wheel. He huffs and kisses his teeth, before defeatedly joking.

"Too far?"

You don't speak, but the glare you shoot him says enough. He holds his hands up in defense and turns his attention to his window.

Silence takes over the car for a few peaceful moments and you don't bring yourself to question it, because Eren not talking is a whole lot better than Eren talking. Not only talking, but asking you out—something he's never thought to do before in the entire three years of knowing you.

Between your own exhaustion and his pathetic alcohol tolerance, you're almost positive you can write it off as nonsense. That is, until Eren opens his big fat mouth up again.

"What if I beg?"

At a red light, you rest your forehead against the steering wheel in exasperation. You hear him borderline giggle as the action gently beeps on your horn.

Your voice comes weak, "Since when do you even want to ask me out? Are you that off your ass right now?"

That changes something in him, because even though he is off his ass right now, he's wanted to ask you out when he was sober about ten times over by now. It's not his fault he's never gotten the courage to do so until now. Right?

"No, fuck no, I—" he stumbles over the slurred syllables as his brain fogs, "I mean, I am drunk, yeah. But I've been far drunker."

Comically, you stare through him, as if he doesn't have a single thought in his puny little brain. When the light turns green, you turn away from him and start driving again, suddenly far too calm for his liking.

"Believe it or not, that doesn't make me feel any better."

Eren rubs his blurry eyes with a calloused hand. "Shit—yeah, I know, okay? Just, hold on. Let me start over, 'cause I do really do wanna buy you dinner and—”

"Why now?"

"Not now," he states matter of fact, "when I'm sober and know where my wallet is."

"No, Eren," your voice is soft now, humiliated. You won't even look at him when you weakly whisper, "Why are you telling me this all of a sudden?"

He takes pride in the way he holds your stare for all of three seconds, before turning down and looking at his shoelaces.

"This is just the first time I've felt the need to confess," he mumbles.

You deadpan, "The first time?"

"Yup."

"There were other times you kept it to yourself?

"Like two whole years worth, yeah," he huffs under his breath. "But I wasn't gonna lead with that because that sounds lame and this makes me sound more manly and suave."

The car hums beneath him when he hears you laugh, and his drunk mind can't tell if it's out of pity or honest amusement, but he likes the sound of it all the same.

Though your words might be meant to sting, the delivery is silky when you tease, "I'm driving you home because you can't handle your liquor. Nothing about you is manly or suave right now."

He nods along obediently, "Okay, sorry."

Turning his attention back to the condensation dripping from the window, he suddenly speaks so gently that you'd think he was sober if you didn't see what he drank tonight.

"If you don't actually wanna go out, you can just reject me already. It's fine."

Now it's Eren who won't meet your eye as you're pulling up to his house on the corner of the street. Throwing the car into park and tapping his bicep, he slowly sighs, a bit embarrassed but too drunk to actually care.

"Tell you what," you breathe, and you're surprised Eren's neck doesn't snap on impact with the speed he turns to face you. You bite your cheek at his desperation and exhale, "If you wake up in the morning and still want to take me to dinner, then we can talk about it tomorrow."

"Yeah?" you swear you can physically see the light reenter his eyes at your simple words.

Nodding, you smile. "Yeah, but for now, get your ass in your apartment and drink a shit ton of water."

Gently shoving him, Eren gets out of the car. In the slightly drizzling rain, his eyes never leave yours as his lanky legs stand up and he salutes in a corny way, "Yes, ma'am."

You reach over the middle console to pull his door shut, but before you can even grab it, he's reaching for the handle and holding it open.

"Wait—!"

"What now?" exasperation crawls from your throat.

You watch unimpressed as he pats down all of his pockets before meekly whispering.

"…Do you have my house keys?"

[takataapui]

hi there, i'm sorry if you're not interested in answering these kinds of questions, but i'm having a lot of difficulty understanding the treaty principles bill that's being brought to parliament. all the sources ive read seem to be using big words to confuse people who don't know any better, and sadly i am one of those people. i have no idea what impact this would have if it passes. could you give any clarification?

copypasting from @sandumilfshou, thanks for this explanation e hoa, my little vent post blew up way more than I was expecting:

the treaty principles bill is essentially "redefining" the articles of te tiriti under david seymour's dumbass belief that acknowledging and putting into effect any policy or legislation that does this means that te tiriti is giving māori "special privileges" that no other people in aotearoa have and therefore is racist. so it basically seeks to redefine the two parties within te tiriti from māori and the crown to "all new zealanders" and the crown. effectively this destroys the whole point of te tiriti and would remove any/all protections for māori as tangata whenua* and undermine rangatiratanga** completely. its insidious and disgusting ✊🖤❤️🤍✊ *broadly this can be understood as the recognised acknowledged indigenous people of the land **sovereignty and self determination of māori. this particular word has a lot of meaning that the original te tiriti signing fucked over due to eng/te reo translation bullshit

I'll also add that there are heaps of iwi (loosely translated as tribes) that haven't been able to/had the resources to file a treaty claim with the Waitangi Tribunal (a system created to 'reconcile' the ways Te Tiriti was breached), so Principle 2 fucks over a lot of smaller iwi and hapū.

As well as my mention of the hīkoi being a reason why the bill was introduced earlier, it's also highly likely that the date change was due at least in part to the Waitangi Tribunal not being able to publish material related to government bills once they've been introduced.