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wardenparker · 1 year ago

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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!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Tim Rockford #Tim Rockford x reader #Tim Rockford x you #Tim Rockford x female reader #Tim Rockford x f!reader #Detective Tim Rockford #fluff #plus size reader

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not-the-coffee-machine4 · 7 months ago

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this will probably be long but I don’t care

It never ceases to amaze me how decent the people in Queen all are. Like yeah they are a major rock band and there was no shortage of Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll™️ going on. We know this. I’m not trying to portray them as perfect people.

But like, if you look at literally anything anyone who’s spent time with them has said or just their actions in general it’s almost hard to believe how like…generous and kind they all are. I mean especially comparing to stuff you hear about the other people/groups at the time.

Freddie bought Christmas dinners for all AIDS patients in hospitals every year. He was a great tipper. He invited anyone who had nowhere else to go to Garden Lodge for holiday dinners. He bought his friends Christmas presents for a Christmas he knew he wouldn’t see. He bought Jim a car. He took in a stranded musician in Japan and sent his driver up to McDonalds when he discovered the person (I’m sorry I don’t remember who it was) didn’t like sushi and then paid the owner to let the guy just sit there. He was the peacemaker of Queen. Everyone around him has always said how funny, kind, generous, and respectful he was.

Roger got a taste of a solo career and immediately went “I’m going to raise awareness for a whole bunch of issues because I am in the position to do so.” He wrote songs about war, racism, socioeconomic inequality, AIDS, neo-Nazism/holocaust denial, domestic violence. He called out religious extremism, politicians, and the extremely wealthy sometimes by name. He’s a patron of Cornwall Pride. He had a signed congratulations note delivered to a couple who got engaged during Somebody To Love. And of course, he co-founded the Mercury Phoenix Trust and then nearly single-handedly organized what remains the largest tribute concert ever the proceeds of which went to the MPT

Brian is Brian. I mean anyone who follows him on Instagram will know he just has a philosophy of treating people with kindness. He’s a queer ally, he calls out crazy right-wing people on a variety of issues, he calls for a ceasefire in Gaza and he champions animal rights. And he practices what he preaches as you will know if you kept up with their last Japan tour and his quest to find vegan food. Not to mention as well as also being a co-founder of the MPT, he and Roger went on national television ONE WEEK after Freddie died to dispel homophobia, AIDS fearmongering, and to raise awareness (not to mention trying to clear up everything the press had been saying about Freddie).

As John is the quiet, private person not much is known about him regarding this but he obviously had deep love and respect for Freddie and I mean there is something to say about the company you keep.

I don’t really have a point I just marvel at it

#Again not saying mistakes were never made #But if you think about it #They’ve done so much to benefit others #They’re charitable #and they use their platforms for good #I love it #very very lucky #Queen #queen band #freddie mercury #Roger Taylor #roger meddows taylor #brian may #sir brian may #john deacon

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autistichalsin · 1 month ago

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PSA for omnivores

Hi! Vegetarian here.

I just wanted to let you guys know a few things for reference!

Vegetarian and vegan is not the same thing. All vegans are vegetarian, but not all vegetarians are vegan. Vegans are generally much stricter in their diets; while most vegetarians generally will eat eggs, dairy, and honey, vegans do not. However, some vegetarians don't eat eggs, either.

Most vegetarians do not eat seafood, though some do. No vegans eat seafood.

Not every vegetarian is also gluten-free, though some are.

There are many different reasons one might be vegetarian or vegan. Sometimes it's an animal rights or environmentalist issue, sometimes it's religious, sometimes it's health-related, and some people just don't like the taste and/or texture.

Please don't try to argue with us about our reasons for not eating meat, or try to convince us our diets are unhealthy. Yes, this includes concerns about protein and/or iron. With beans, legumes, and other such things, some vegetarians can eat even more protein than omnivores!

For the love of god and everything holy, please don't try to sneak meat or meat products into food, even if you're sure we "won't notice."

In general, if you wouldn't like a vegetarian doing it to you, don't do it to a vegetarian, whether that's tricking you into eating something, debating their religion, or expressing invasive health concerns.

That said, if you know a person well and have genuine, good-faith questions to ask, it is okay to ask them if they'd be willing to talk about it. Just don't be upset if they say no!

When in doubt about if something is suitable for a vegetarian, please ask! Most of us would rather read an entire ingredients list front-to-back, back-to-front, up-to-down, and down-to-up than eat something we try to exclude from our diets.

If you are at a setting (potluck, holiday dinner, etc) with a vegetarian, and there are both meat main dishes and vegetarian ones available, please wait for the vegetarian(s) to have gotten food before trying the vegetarian ones. You have no idea how upsetting it can be to be one of maybe five vegetarians at a gathering of fifty, and watch as all of the meat-eaters devour the cheese and veggie supreme pizza slices first, so that by the time we reach the line, there's only ten meat lovers pies left. If there is only a single vegetarian option, please don't eat it unless you absolutely have to.

Some items are often considered vegetarian-friendly, but in truth, aren't. Some of these include:

Worcestershire sauce. Aside from a few specifically vegan brands, these contain anchovies.

Meat broths, bouillons, etc. Yes, we do consider chicken broth not to be vegetarian, even if the soup itself has no actual meat in it.

Many kinds of miso are made with bonito flakes, and are therefore not vegetarian.

Many foods contain seafood derivatives for flavor; this also happens fairly often with chicken being added as well.

Caesar dressing contains anchovies, and is not vegetarian.

Foods cooked on the same surfaces as meat. Some vegetarians do not want to eat these (though others are more lax about this). In general, fast-food places and chain restaurants do not have designated vegetarian-friendly surfaces, and would therefore not fit the dietary preferences of a vegetarian who doesn't want to eat food cooked with meat.

"Jojo" potatoes (also known as fried potato wedges) are traditionally cooked in the same fryer as meat items such as fried seafood, chicken, etc.

Aside from some specific kinds, such as mushroom or onion, gravies are not vegetarian.

Many canned beans, refried beans, etc are not vegetarian as they are often cooked in lard.

Many brands and flavors of stovetop stuffing are not vegetarian. Ironically, the only flavor of Kraft's stovetop stuffing that is vegetarian is the pork-flavor one, while the savory herb one is not suitable for vegetarians.

Food that once had meat on it. Many, though not all, vegetarians do not consider "picking the meat off" of an item that had it (I.E. pepperoni pizza) to be acceptable. Part of the issue is the contact with meat, and another is that the flavors and oils will have seeped all over it. Have you ever noticed how much greasier the boxes are for pepperoni pizzas than for cheese ones? You are definitely free to ask, but please don't get offended if a vegetarian doesn't consider picking meat off of a dish to make it vegetarian-friendly.

Many storebought brands of puff pastry, pie crust, and etc are made with lard.

Many cheeses are made with rennet (an enzyme crucial for the making of many kinds of cheese) that is derived from animal stomachs and therefore not vegetarian. While some brands use microbial or plant-blased rennet, which are vegetarian, it is safe to assume that cheeses like parmesan or gruyere are not vegetarian, especially if they are traditional/DOP cheeses.

Anything with gelatin, as this is a byproduct of meat production. However, please note that some vegetarians are less fussy with byproducts than others, and this definitely falls into the "ask first" category.

Some, though not all, wines and beers use animal products in the process of purifying them.

Protein powder is usually produced using animal proteins.

Sugar, believe it or not, as often bone char is added to improve the whiteness. Try looking for vegan brands.

A lot of manufacturers love sneaking animal products into things it doesn't belong in, and it is really a miserable experience to get "meated". If you're cooking for or eating with a vegetarian, no one expects you to know everything, but again, when in doubt, ask! There's a lot of little things you can do to make it easier, especially during the holiday season. <3

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tangerinelovez · 3 months ago

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mtl: txt asking for your meal to be remade when made incorrectly at a restaurant

pairing: txt x female-implied reader with dietary restrictions (they've been dating for six months) tw; food allergies, veganism, confrontation, uncomfortable social experience, social anxiety........ also I didn't proofread this so that's a warning itself word count: 2394 disclaimer: This is all fictional and just for entertainment purposes. This is not based on any fact and is just my own interpretations of how I think the members would act if their girlfriend's order was wrong at a restaurant and they had some kind of dietary restriction. note: I did make my decisions based on a combination of factors. I think some members would be very sympathetic about your order being wrong, but may be uncomfortable expressing your concerns to the waiter, leaving you to be the one to voice your dissatisfaction with your meal. On the other hand, some members may be more willing to speak up on your behalf, but may not fully offer the emotional support you may be looking for in this situation.

MOST

Yeonjun -> you can always count on him to speak up for you when your meal isn't right... but you will have to explain to him what's wrong with it

you have been a vegan by choice for a few years, and by this point, you had gotten pretty used to great service and creative food options when going out. Not to mention, you had been pleased to find that being vegan hadn’t deterred nearly as many guys from dating you as everyone had made it sound.

to make a long story short, it had been a while since you’d been faced with a vegan’s worst nightmare: an inedible pool of steaming hot vegan cheese falling off the edge of your pizza slice in rivulets while on a rare night out with your boyfriend. on the bright side, he would be quick to fix the issue, hating to see you so sad and disappointed with your meal while he's enjoying his own so much. he'd drop his own slice of pizza, and his brows would furrow as you explain why your vegan pizza was not made correctly, and he'd nod attentively, eyes wide as he listens. he'd reassure you that he'd handle it for you and then flag down the waiter, politely explaining why your pizza isn't correct as it appeared to be drowning in a river of non-dairy cheese instead of the typical sprinkle you'd come to expect when eating at this restaurant. when the second pizza comes out, he'd study it and your face closely, and lean in and assertively ask if he needs to go talk to the kitchen himself, or if it looks right for you this time. part of you wonders how he can't seem to fully recognize this pizza looks entirely different than the first one that had been swimming in rivulets of cheese, but he's so cute and concerned, you hold down your urge to point out just how different the two pizzas look from each other.

when you smile and reassure him the dough looks cooked thoroughly and there's an appropriate amount of vegan cheese and the correct toppings, he'd let out a big sigh of relief and pick up his own forgotten slice, saying he doesn't mind eating his pizza cold as long as it means he can share a nice meal with you and shooting you a wink as he takes a bite. a bizarre expression crosses his face suddenly, prompting you to ask what is it before he says we're getting ice cream after this right? and you nod, loving how his mind is always on food, even when eating.

let me look up the best vegan ice cream around here then... he says, pulling out his samsung as he wipes his face.

you're always eating some fruit pop at the place we normally go to, and I know you say you like it... but you deserve ice cream tonight. you laugh, finding it amusing how he seems to be more impacted by all of this than you are, but smile as you eat your well-crafted pizza, feeling lucky to have found a man who is eager to keep you fed and happy. Taehyun -> your attentive and observant boyfriend will always do what it takes to make you happy, even if he doesn't fully get the "vegan" thing as soon as your order hit the table, terry noticed that your face didn't light up as it normally does when the two of you go out for tacos. why the long face baby? he'd say, leaning in over the booth. you'd hesitate, feeling a little apprehensive about bringing up your concerns. You don't really like inconveniencing others over your dietary restrictions, and try to not make a big deal of them.

as you tell terry your order is wrong and why, he nods in understanding, but hesitates before saying baby... can't you just eat it this one time? I just don't get why you wont have the real thing sometimes... it's much healthier than that fake meat...

you sigh, shaking your head slightly, a slightly amused smile on your face. your gym bro boyfriend still maintained a slight skepticism towards your diet even after all these months of dating. you know i'm vegan for reasons other than just health reasons, terry.

he nods and reaches for your hand across the table, an earnest look in his eyes. you know I don't mind that you're vegan, (y/n). let me ask them for your fake meat and fake cheese tacos.

he raises his free hand to signal the waiter back over, and calmly explains that you need the tacos remade without dairy and with the vegan meat crumbles. he smiles widely as the waiter apologizes and offers to discount your bill, apologizing profusely for the mistake.

when the remade tacos arrive, terry inspects them heavily, even offering to take a bite to ensure it's not real meat and cheese on these, as well. you can feel yourself fall in love even more when his eyes widen in amazement after he takes a bite and says, it's definitely vegan, but wow, it's good... maybe next time you can convince him to share some vegan appetizers and entrees. Beomgyu -> he teases. a lot. but at the end of the day, he would do anything for you if you really needed him to yeah I mean they definitely have a couple options for you here, right? your boyfriend of six months had asked on the way to the ramen restaurant he had recently taken a liking to. you had bitten your lip, unsure if your dietary restrictions would really be accommodated here. due to some health reasons, you were unable to eat gluten or dairy. taking into account your other allergies, it could often make eating somewhere feel impossible. now that the steaming bowl was in front of you, it was clear that your concerns had been valid. you watch beomgyu carefully eat some of his own ramen for a few seconds before sighing softly, prompting him to look up from his bowl and to your blank expression and untouched food. Is something wrong with yours? he asks after swallowing his soup. you nod, feeling a bit embarrassed. it had been a really long day, and you had just wanted to eat something that sounded good without worrying about all of your restrictions and allergies, but now that it was in front of you, and you could see just how much gluten, soy, and sesame was in the ramen, you knew you could not eat it.

he quirks his brow. ah, is today a day you spontaneously care about your diet again?

you feel heat rush into your face, knowing he's just kidding, but feeling embarrassed and not wanting to be an inconvenience all the same. hey, i didn't realize they'd put so many huge chunks of tofu in here... It didn't list tofu as an ingredient in here... and there's so much soy sauce already in the broth... not to mention, sesame seeds randomly in here...

you move your spoon around sadly, not feeling like making a scene at the small family-owned ramen restaurant. I'm pretty sure my noodles aren't gluten-free either... you sigh. I can't eat this, gyu. he looks up from his meal to look at you and your bowl again. ok... he says, looking over to the kitchen before looking at you again. do you want a new one or something?

you look down with a slight shrug.

he looks at you blankly for a few seconds as he stirs his ramen before saying ...do you want me to tell them you need a new one?

you sheepishly nod and he scoffs. alright, i'll tell them my girlfriend decided to take her allergies seriously today, and to please take that into account when remaking the bowl.

he raises a hand and furiously waves it around to get your waiter's attention.

anything for you, you big old karen. i'll make sure you get the best gluten-free, soy-free, everything-good-free ramen they have here. and maybe even get us a discount! he loves to be dramatic... but at the end of the day, he will always step up when it really matters to you.

Soobin -> he loves making you vegan food at home, but can get a bit embarrassed in restaurants soobin loved to cook for you at home or take you to familiar restaurants, but sometimes, for special occasions, he would try to take you somewhere new and exciting that seemed to be getting good reviews as a date night spot online. normally, he would double and triple check to ensure there were vegan options, or at the very least, vegetarian options that could be made vegan, but he had told you tonight's restaurant was a bit of a gamble... and the overly cheesy burger in front of you seemed to be indicating a loss. are you sure you can't just... eat around it? soobin's wide eyes stare into yours as he makes the suggestion.

I mean, it's baked in... you take the bun off of your burger to show your boyfriend how the veggie burger appears to have real cheese and breadcrumbs baked into the patty.

both food items you could not have as a vegan. I mean... the waiter wrote down no cheese or breadcrumbs on this veggie burger. i'm sure it's just vegan cheese... he says, looking down at his own burger with a quick glance before looking back up at you.

just eat your burger, soobin. you say with a smile, not wanting him to go hungry just because you can't eat your meal. he shakes his head quickly, taking a sip of his cola. no, no... it doesn't feel right for you to just sit and watch me eat... you smile as you see his ears start to get a bit red. you look at him reassuringly with a smile. soob, come on. it's fine. i'll just ask them for a new one. you move to raise your hand, getting ready to deal with the awkward confrontation with the waiter before soobin puts his hand on top of yours.

no... we're out tonight to celebrate six months of you being my girlfriend. I... I can ask them to remake this burger but without the cheese or breadcrumbs like they said they could do for you. besides... I know how stressed you've been with your semester starting.

your heart skips a beat as soobin takes a deep breath and raises his hand, a tight-lipped smile on his face as he looks around the restaurant for your waiter. you really didn't mind speaking up for yourself, it was part of being a vegan, but it really warmed your heart to see soobin doing something for you even though it made him uncomfortable.

and when he quietly and politely explained the error to the waiter, you couldn't help but be endeared by his good manners and appreciation not only for you, but for service workers.

the waiter apologized profusely for bringing a vegetarian burger instead of vegan burger to the table, heavily discounted your meal, and even offered a complimentary dessert. to which soobin inquired, are any of your desserts dairy-free?

when the answer was no, he smiled cheekily and said the two of you were fine on desserts then, which confused you until a few hours later, when you entered his apartment and noticed a table full of intricately-decorated cookies, that he assures you are vegan.

your mouth can't help but fall open in shock over the pile of handmade cookies to which soobin cheekily says, why are you so surprised? his sudden confidence charming you even more. Kai -> he feels terribly that you can't eat your meal... but the best he can do is offer emotional support and advice when your pita comes out to the table in a tray with checkered paper, it is just filled to the brim with olives. though you're not one of those people who is super picky, you have to admit you've always had a massive aversion to olives.

though you'd normally just opt to pick the olives out of the pita, there are so many throughout it, in addition to pepperoncini and copious amounts of greek dressing... in all honesty, the whole pita just has to go. it's so soggy and poorly wrapped, you really don't know how you'd even manage to eat it. you look across the table to your boyfriend, shocked to find he is nearly done with his own pita. you watch him eat for a few seconds, amused by how absorbed he is in the flavors of the pita, before he finally fishes his and almost seems to come back to earth, looking at you with a stunned expression. (y/n), is something wrong? does your stomach hurt? you shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed over the fact you can't just suck it up and eat the soggy and overloaded-with-olives pita.

oh... it's just... this is really soggy. i'm not even sure I could pick it up without it falling apart. and it's filled with olives. he sucks his teeth, soft eyes looking at you with concern. oh no! maybe you can just use a fork and knife? you furrow your brows, knowing the flaws with the pita go beyond its structural weakness. It's also just full of olives and pepperoncini... I can't really eat this... kai looks around awkwardly, pulling on the strings of his hoodie before suddenly his face lights up and he eagerly offers a solution.

how about you order something else, and i'll just eat this one?

your eyes widen at his suggestion, and you can't help but laugh. but... you don't really like olives either? and it's so messy?

he shakes his head, already pulling your soggy pita towards himself. I don't mind eating it... and just ask the waiter for the menu again and order something else... I don't want to ask them to remake anything...

you laugh as you watch him pick up a fork and knife to eat the offending pita, and catch eyes with the waiter from across the restaurant to signal him to come back to the table. at least nights out with kai always have you laughing.

LEAST

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boiohboii · 1 year ago

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Our wedding menu (Lando Norris x reader)

When your friend leaves you to entertain yourself you decide to try something really new.

in which you wanted to have fun and a really handsome, curly haired british boy is your victim.

N.B: just a silly little drabble inspired by this video, hope you guys like it! WARNINGS: not proof read, spelling mistakes maybe? Also, don't do that in public, this is just for fun really. Let me know what you guys think!

masterlist

When people are bored they watch a movie, read a book or maybe go outside and look around. But you weren't feeling like doing any of those things, your friend has left you to go on a date and honestly you can't blame her, the guy was extremely handsome and so so polite, which is why you are currently sitting in a cafe doing what you do best- people watching.

There was an old couple sharing their lunch and smiling (they are what anyone dreams of, in Monaco with each other after however many years of marriages), there was an employee on the phone behind the counter probably arguing with someone by the movements in her hands and the chewing of her own lips, and there was a group of guys (fuck off, why are they so handsome) who you are pretty sure are famous- if the guys, girls and old rich people coming up every few minutes asking for photos and autographs weren't enough of a sign the billboards you've seen scattered around Monaco in your short visit of 4 out of these 9 guys (that's a big ass friend group) were confirmation of them being models at least (which adds up to these looks).

Now you weren't much of a jokester in front of strange people, especially not a group of 9 handsome guys, but hey life is all about trying new things which is why you decided it'd be fun to try and see what their reactions would be.

Standing up you rushed out of the cafe, was it a good idea? No. Did you have enough social energy to pull this off? No. Do you have enough confidence to talk to one handsome dude who is in the middle of his handsome friends? Also no. But none of that stopped you from going to the burger truck a few blocks down asking for 2 double cheeseburgers and 2 chocolate frosties. After taking your receipt you stood in line, waiting for your order.

"I love their variety so much! Everything is available"

"Yes! I am so happy that they have no meat options"

Oh shit. What if he's vegan!

Leaving your place in the line you went back to the cashier and ordered the most appealing name from their non meat menu.

After finally having your food in hand you went back the same way stopping in front of a flower shop, what flowers should you get? would he even accept the flowers? What if he's allergic to flowers?

Opening up Google you searched for the flowers that don't cause allergies, seeing roses on top of the list you decided to get a small bouquet of 4 roses before placing it carefully in your bag (in another zipper away from the food).

Entering the cafe for the 2nd time today you took a look around, extremely happy that the barista kept her word and made sure that all of the tables are taken and the only chair empty is besides the curly haired boy laughing at something his friends have said.

"Hi, I'm sorry to interupt but can I sit here?"

You asked as you looked around the table, upon seeing all of them looking at each other you explained further "it's just that there's no other chairs available, as soon as there is one I'll be gone, promise"

"Oh yes, of course, you can stay as long as you want"

The guy with green? or is it blue? eyes replied, while everyone else gestured for you to take a seat.

"Thank you," as you placed your bag you asked the one question that would decide if you should move on with whatever it was you were going to do "oh, sorry, do you have a girlfriend? I don't want to overstep or make any misunderstandings" you asked the victim of your plan, upon shaking his head you took a seat.

Sitting down you decided to start your plan, fishing the necklace out of the small zipper you turned to the boy sitting beside you holding the necklace between both of you

"Can you please do this for me? I can't reach"

All chatter around the table stopped, you can feel 9 pairs of eyes on you as you gave the boy a small, apologetic smile.

"Oh, uhh- yeah of course," ohhh, he's british, damn you might actually fall in love "let me just figure out how it works."

As he clasped the necklace together you thanked him, moving onto your next step which consisted of you bending down to get your mirror and your lipstick out of the bag, staying in your position you moved the bag a bit to the right before adjusting yourself a bit so that what you're doing would be noticed. Not bringing your mirror onto the table but still visible enough for the 9 guys to see you applying a new layer of lipstick, you can hear them questioning what you are doing and it just made you want to get up and run back to your hotel room.

You already started, no going back now.

Being satisfied with how the lipstick looked you placed it back in the bag before sitting properly, smiling at the blue eyed guy in front of you.

Waiting a bit so that the guy besides you isn't speaking to someone before you move onto the main plan.

Upon seeing him get his phone out you decided to go ahead, it's now or never

"We had a date, no?" you whispered to him as to not get the attention of his friends, at least not this soon.

The man blinked at you before looking around him, wanting to make sure you are talking to him "I'm sorry?"

Before he could even question you any further he saw roses within his eyesight

"These are for you," you pushed the bouquet into his frozen hands "hope it smells as good as you"

Red started covering his face, looking around at his friends, who quietened down as soon as they saw the red roses, searching for an explanation.

When you kept looking at him with that smile he let out a small thanks before smelling the flowers.

Okay, nice, so far so good, why is he so flustered oh my god, he's the cutest.

"Oh, I also bought burgers"

"I'm sorry, what is this about?"

"I also bought drinks, one is oreo and one is hershey, well it was supposed to be hershey kisses but they ran out so let me just," leaning over to him, you kissed his cheek "there you go, now you can take the hershey one"

The other 8 boys howled in laughter at the wide eyed, red faced boy staring at the drink in front of him on the table. He bite his lips, trying to prevent a smile from breaking out onto his face.

You decided to get your phone out and wait a bit before you moved on further with the plan, the group going back to their conversations while the brit besides you kept taking glances at you, thinking you wouldn't notice, but you did and you also noticed that he is not touching his burger, only drinking the frosty.

Dipping your hand into your bag you got out the other burger "that's a non meat burger, bought it just in case."

"Oh," he took the food from your hands, nodding his head in thanks "you didn't have to."

Giving him a full smile you went back to your phone, waiting for him to eat a bit of his sandwhich so you could make the next move. The way he gets flustered and shy makes you want to ask him out on an actual date, he is so fucking pretty.

"Do you like it?"

Nodding, he smiled at you as he gave you a thumbs up as he can't answer while chewing.

"I'm really glad, I was thinking about adding it to our wedding menu," the dark haired man sitting on the other side of the british boy choked onto his drink, looking at their group of friends wanting to make sure that he heard correctly "not as a main dish, more like a snack really."

The boy besides you shrugged, thinking about how a burger truck would look in a wedding.

"Mate, you better not forget my invite if you're gonna have burgers at your wedding."

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris #f1 fic #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader

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lovelettersforthedamned · 8 months ago

Note

Congrats on reaching 4000 followers!!! 🥳

Can I request "so tell me, what do you feel for me?" "you know the answer. you know it all." "i want to hear you say it." with Steven Grant? ❤ it could be end with smut if you're comfortable with it 🤭

Same Tradition, Different Approach

✮ steven grant x afab!reader

✮ word count: 1.4k

✮ summary: a late night confession opens both you and steven's hearts (and your legs).

✮ warnings: fluff, smut, language, mention of food, mentions of anxiety, kisses, hair pulling, oral (f! receiving), cunnilingus, MINORS DNI, 18+.

minors if you keep reading i will manifest you having lice :)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main masterlist ⋆ moon knight masterlist ⋆ four-hundred follower bash

gif by @magnusedom Every Friday night, you and Steven meet at his apartment for movie night. You guys have kept this tradition every week for the past few years that you’ve been friends. Laying in his bed, you both stare at the laptop screen, a comfortable silence falling upon you two.

With the final scenes playing, you sit up and stretch. “That was good,” you look towards Steven, still lying comfortably under the blankets, “a little slow, but good.” He nods his head in response as you fold up your laptop, tossing it aside, and giving him your full attention. “I brought vegan cookie dough if you’re up to baking. I’m craving something sweet,” you begin to rise from the mattress, but Steven’s abnormal silence stops you in your tracks.

Steven’s ability to constantly talk about anything was one of the things you loved about him, along with many other things, so his lack of words shocked you. You say his name, and it finally catches his attention, “You okay?”

His eyes linger on yours for a second too long, and he quickly diverts them before responding. “Y–Yeah,” he clears his throat before sitting up, the blankets pooling on his lap, “just some things on my mind, love.”

Your head tilts at his confession. Steven always had a nervous habit when dealing with tricky things, so when you see this, you’re puzzled. Your eyes dart to his constantly moving hands then back to his eyes. You reach a hand towards his anxious ones, placing yours there to ease his mind, “We can talk about it. Only if you want to, of course.”

“It’s complicated, and I don’t want to bother you,” his demeanor visibly relaxes at the feeling of your touch.

You let out a breathy laugh, “You never bother me, Steven, you know that.” Your thumb has started to rub the back of his hand, each movement making his heart flutter.

“Just,” he starts before stopping, trying to find the right words, “don’t let what I say ruin our friendship. I value too much, and if I happen to fuck this up then stop me right now.” Your heart was racing at each word that Steven was rambling over. He was a nervous mess in front of you, and you could tell he was scaring himself. You kept quiet to see if he would continue, but when he remained flustered, you decided to jump the gun. Grabbing the sides of his face, you pulled him in for a kiss.

Nerves racked your brain until he kissed back. His hands, previously folded over each other on his lap, are now at the sides of your waist, pulling you in closer. There’s a fit of passion between the two of you. All these years of unspoken love have finally escaped, and you couldn’t be more relieved.

You try to pull away, but Steven keeps you in his touch with one of his hands coming to the side of your neck. His other hand makes its way down to the meat of your hip, squeezing it. You gasp at his actions, pulling away to look at him with a smile on your face. Steven’s face is bright red, his gaze focusing on your lips until you grab his chin, forcing him to look up at you, “So tell me, what do you feel for me?”

He’s already leaning in for another kiss, his body needs you. You lean back, forcing him to chase your lips before he responds, knowing that you won’t let him touch you unless he answers your question, “You know the answer, darling. You know it all.”

He thought you were satisfied until you shook your head, still holding his chin as you leaned in as close as possible. Still not connecting your lips, you whisper, “I want to hear you say it, Steven.”

You’re teasing him, and he knows it. “I love you.” he starts before taking a deep breath and looking into your eyes. “I love every part of you, and I can’t handle another second without your touch now that I’ve finally got it. So, please…Please let me kiss you, love.”

The grin on your face widens before you close the gap between you and Steven. He moans into the kiss as if you’re the sweetest fruit he’s sunk his teeth in. The sound of his pleasure sends waves straight to your core, a feeling of desperation grows as the kiss progresses.

“Lay down,” Steven mutters into your lips. Leaning back to fall onto the mattress, your lips never leave his. His arms cage you in as he hovers over your body, his lips moving to your neck. His lips suck on the supple skin right under your ear, eliciting a moan from you. Your hands immediately weave themselves in his hair. Lifting his head he says your name, catching your attention, “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

Not another second goes by before you nod your head, eager to see what happens next. His arms slide down your torso, his fingers catching on the hem of your pants and hooking under your panties in one swift motion. You open your legs for Steven, and he wastes no time placing himself between them.

He first places delicate kisses on each thigh. Each one is higher than the last, and each one causes a shiver to run up your spine. The anticipation was killing you, “Steven, please stop teasing.”

He nips at the skin before licking it and placing his head on your thigh, looking up at you with innocent eyes, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.” You whine in response, and he laughs. “Hey,” he finally comes face to face with your aching pussy, “I had to get back at you for teasing me. Now we’re even.”

You start to talk back before you’re cut off by Steven’s warm mouth on you. He doesn’t waste any time before diving his tongue deep into you, a gasp of surprise echoes throughout the small apartment. He’s lapping at your juices, the taste makes him moan into your clit. “Fuck, Steven…,” you moan, your hands gripping at the sheets beside you. You’re not sure where he learned how to do this, but that’s honestly the last thing on your mind, especially when he keeps sucking on your clit.

Steven can see how hard you’re gripping the sheets, and even though you two are touching, he misses your touch. He removes one of his hands off of your thighs and reaches for yours. You’re still a moaning mess when Steven intertwines your fingers, but you notice his actions, as you always have.

He can’t get enough of you, and when you cum into his mouth, he stays there, making sure to get every single drop. “Steven–fuck,” you giggle at his eagerness to keep going, but you’re too overstimulated to keep going. With your free hand, you hold the side of his head before gently pulling him off of you.

His lips and chin are glistening from your slick, and he has a shit-eating grin on his face. You couldn’t get enough of the sight in front of you. Sitting up, you pull Steven up for a kiss. The taste of you on his lips makes you whine.

Reaching towards Steven’s cock, you pull away when you feel a wet spot and a soft cock in his pants. You look back up at him, his face bright red from embarrassment, “Shit. I’m sorry, love. That’s pathetic of me.”

“Hey,” you give him a small peck, “I think it’s kind of hot actually.” You smile at him before standing and walking towards the bathroom. You look over your shoulder to see Steven, still on the bed, admiring your half-naked form. You tease, “Do you want to join me in the shower, or are you going to keep staring at me?”

He perks up at the suggestion and immediately joins you.

Your movie nights will continue to be a tradition, but now, a few kisses in between each scene won’t hurt.

✮ author's note: EEEK STEVEN GRANT!!! i love this man so much it's unreal. thank you for requesting this and participating in my bash, @steven-grants-world !! if you guys want to join, click on the link at the top of this fic. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! ok, bye ily 🫶

#steven grant x afab!reader #steven grant smut #steven grant fluff #steven grant x reader #fluff #marvel #moon knight x reader #llftd 400 follower bash

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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

Text

Like Betta Fish Do Part 22

wc: 2556, Masterpost

Danny was flying to Chicago.

It wasn’t exactly his choice to be flying to Chicago. He’d much rather be in Gotham getting some homework done at Jason’s while stealing kisses and food. That was his idea of a good weekend right there and with the end of the semester swiftly approaching he had plenty to do. But no, Sam had told him he better get his undead ass to Chicago that weekend or she’d come to Gotham and drag him out by his hair. Danny had long ago drank his respect women juice (and knew Sam would follow through), so he was flying to Chicago.

Tucker, equally as whipped by Sam, was driving into the city that same day.

Apparently they had to talk about Jason.

In person.

Danny thought it was overkill, but no one wanted to listen to the dead guy about what counted for that, he guessed, so Danny was flying to Chicago.

At least the skyline was pretty to look at as he approached.

Staying invisible, Danny flew into Sam and Val’s apartment from the outside wall. They were six floors up and in a nicer place than two college students should be able to afford. Living somewhere with the security of a front desk was one of the conditions Sam’s parents had for her going to Chicago for college. Sam had complained, but Danny didn’t think she minded as much as she claimed after hearing horror stories from friends about the state of some of the places they had lived.

Danny didn’t see Sam in the living room, but Val was in the kitchen. He floated silently up behind her.

“Boo.”

“I still can and will end you, ghost boy,” she said.

Danny sighed and shimmered into existence. “You’re no fun, Val.”

“You used to think I was plenty fun.”

“Ah to be young and stupid,” Danny said, then had to dodge a punch with a laugh. He floated up to sit cross legged on the ceiling. “Hey! I’m just saying we are both better off not dating each other.”

“I’ll wait until after the interrogation to decide on how good your current situation is or not.”

Danny groaned. “Ancients, how bad is Sam planning to be?”

Val just gave him a look and popped a piece of the bell pepper she had been cutting up into her mouth.

“Okay, yeah. I sorta expected that,” Danny said in defeat and drifted morosely down from the ceiling.

“She’s buying ice cream though,” Val said after Danny had settled into a ghostly puddle. “So if you behave it might just turn into girl talk.”

Danny squinted up at the ceiling. “Real ice cream or vegan ice cream?”

“Both.”

So there was hope then.

Sam arrived with a bang of the door about fifteen minutes later. “Val! I found something scrungly on the street.”

“Hey!” Tucker protested as he followed her inside carrying most of the groceries.

“I found something scrunglier,” Val said, pointing to where Danny was lounging on one of the couches, back to his human form.

“I’ll own that.”

“You!”

“Me,” Danny confirmed with a sigh.

“You owe us so many explanations, Danny,” Sam said, setting bags down in the kitchen.

“Like how did you meet him?”

“So—”

“And when did you know he was a halfa?”

“I mean—”

“And how long have you been dating?”

“Our first—”

“And—”

“Sam! Ancients! You have to let me actually answer if you want answers!” Danny explained.

She stepped out of the kitchen to glare at him, arms crossed. “Fine, come help get snacks and then you are talking.”

“Sure sure sure.”

Talking took all night. The only thing, really, that Danny managed to keep from them were Jason’s last name, that he was a vigilante, and how he died (and was revived). The last one was easy, they knew better than to ask, and the first Danny was able to convince Sam it would just distract Tucker. He promised he’d let them have a video call with Jason tomorrow and they could learn his full name then.

But the chase with Johnny, the presents, Jason’s confusion; Danny went into it all. He explained helping Jason through the ectoshots and Jason genuinely becoming his friend. He admitted how early he was crushing on the other, but thought he had no chance because Jason was handsome and smart and so kind. He talked about how warm he felt having that kindness directed at him. And then the date! And the date that he planned… he sounded completely gone, he knew that, but he was.

Luckily how gone he was seemed to sooth a lot of Sam’s anger at not being told for so long. It all went better than Danny expected, and it was good to have his best friends finally know.

None of that made him any less nervous for the video call. He set up his laptop, ignored Tucker’s ‘dude, you still have that thing?’, and pressed call. He had sent Jason a warning text before calling, so it wasn’t long before Jason picked up. He must be on his tablet. It looked liked Jason had actually taken some time to figure out where to sit that would have decent lighting and frame his apartment well. The effort was actually really sweet.

“Jason, everyone. Everyone, Jason,” Danny said, motioning at the screen.

There was a pause and then Sam grabbed a throw pillow and just started wailing on Danny with it.

“Danny!”

“Ow!”

“A Wayne?!”

“Wait, what?” Tucker asked, pulling out his phone. “Wayne as in Wayne Enterprises Wayne?”

“A Wayne, Danny!” Sam landed a particularly vicious hit.

“Sam!”

“You could stop this, you know,” Val said to the screen.

“You know, I don’t really know if I could,” Jason, the not so little shit that he was, said with a grin.

Tucker looked from his phone to the screen and back down again. “Ancients, he’s a Wayne.”

Sam landed one last hit before she took a breath, pushed back her now wild hair, and looked to the screen. “Hi, I like your father’s move to zero impact manufacturing, even if tree credits are mostly a scam and he could do more.”

“Thanks?” Jason said with a bemused sort of smile. “That’s really Tim’s area, I work with the Foundation, not Enterprises.”

Tucker sighed, “You couldn’t be dating Tim instead?”

“He just wants to cuddle the new Wayne phone,” Danny explained after spitting out a feather.

“Got it. What’s your critique?” Jason asked Val.

“Oh, I’m his ex, I just enjoy watching the chaos,” she said, hooking a thumb at Danny.

Jason nodded sagely. “Valid.”

“So,” Danny said, drawing the word out. “As you have guessed, Jason Todd Wayne. Jason, this is Sam, Val, and Tucker.”

“Wait!” Sam interrupted. “If you’re, and you’re, that means then— shit, you really died, huh?”

“Yeah, well,” Jason said with a little shrug and a crooked, slightly somber smile. “The real surprise is actually that I’m less re-alive than I thought.”

“Yeah… Danny told us that you didn’t know you were a halfa. Sorry dude, that sucks,” Tucker said seriously before he brightened and flung an arm around Danny’s shoulder. “But like, the best guy I know is a halfa so you’re in good company! Mostly. The fruit loop is the worst but Dani is great! So you know, three for four is pretty good.”

“I’ve had much worse odds before,” Jason said honestly. “Besides, Danny has been helping me figure it all out. I’d be doing a lot worse without his help. Hell, I was doing a lot worse.”

“Danny said something about corrupted ecto? Sounds nasty dude. Glad that’s clearing up for you.”

“Thanks to Danny and Frostbite,” Jason said, he didn’t exactly shift in his seat, but Danny could tell the question made him a little tense. “It’s not all settled yet, but it’s a lot better and we’ll keep working on it.”

“And what do you do for work?” Sam asked.

“Wow, Sam, could you be any more obvious with that segway?” Danny asked, twisting to look at her incredulously.

“I work for the Martha Wayne Foundation. I do a lot with low income housing in Crime Alley, but also addiction rehabilitation. Literacy is a new project I’m pushing on,” Jason said like the question didn’t bother him. “I might go back to school so that I can do more for it.”

“That’s what you want to do or just what you’re doing?”

“You knew who I was on sight, so I figure you know my story,” Jason said, his tone finally hardening some. “I got lucky, not everyone has that chance. This is a way I can give help back. I still live in Crime Alley and I’m going to make sure that when I die, for good, that it’s a better place than it was when I was born.”

“See? He want’s to do good Sam, just like you, despite having money,” Danny said pointedly.

She looked like she might argue for a moment before she just huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Look, I bet you think I can’t say anything that would actually threaten you—”

Jason raised his hands. “I always respect the capabilities of a determined woman.”

Sam actually paused at that before she gathered up her scowl again. “But I have befriended something as close to a god as you will ever meet, and if you hurt Danny in any malicious way, I will sic Undergrowth on you and no one will ever find your body because it will be decomposing into fertilizer in the Infinite Realms.”

“Got it,” Jason said. “Do you want to meet Pamela Isley sometime? I think the two of you would get along.”

“Pamela Isley as in…”

“Yep. Her wife is my therapist.”

Sam turned to Danny. “Danny, I approve of your boyfriend, even if he’s a Wayne. Val, we’re going to Gotham for spring break.”

Danny covered his laugh at how quickly Jason figured a way into Sam’s good graces, not that Danny minded in the least. He’d take this weekend going well.

“Danny?

“Hum? Sorry?” Danny made himself drag his attention away from his phone and up to his friends. It seemed like Jason had missed Danny as much as Danny missed him by all the messages he’d gotten the last few days. There hadn’t even been time to see each other before the week started and now it was already Thursday.

By the expressions the others had, he figured he looked absolutely besotted. Well, damn.

“Do you want to head over to It’s a Grind with us to study for the test?” Cloe asked.

“Oh, I would, but my boyfriend got done with his stuff early, so he’s here to pick me up,” Danny explained with a little wave of his phone.

“That does explain the look on your face,” Fara said with a laugh before she sang, “Danny and what’s his name sitting in a tree.”

José rolled his eyes. “Dios mío, Fara, how are you so bad with names? It’s Jason. Danny only mentions him all the time.”

“Hey!” Danny and Fara said at the same time.

“A, Fara, you are, you still don’t know our econ prof’s name and we started our final project today.”

“I do too!” Fara protested with a pout. “It’s… ah… Barry!”

“Baramore, Fara, it’s Baramore.”

“I was close,” she said, tossing a fold of her hijab like it was her hair and she was a cliché valley girl.

José rounded on Danny. “And two—”

“Shouldn’t it be B?”

“And two!” José repeated more firmly, “Danny, you really do mention Jason a lot. Not in a bad way, but you were so gone for the guy even before you started dating that we had bets.”

“We did,” Cloe confirmed. “I won, of course.”

“Of course you did. Why do I always make friends like this?” Danny asked with a sigh.

“Because you only attract the best,” Fara said with a wink and finger guns.

Danny barked a laugh at that. “Sure. But anyways, I have to go, but I will totally catch you another day to study, it sounds like this test will be a beast.”

“Sure, I’ll message you about some time, but start studying before it since you’re missing today,” Cloe ordered.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll study,” Danny said, walking backwards away from the group.

As he turned and slid through a gap of the throng of people gathered outside of the science building, he caught the end of Fara exclaiming, “who I think it is?”

He supposed the cat was out of the bag here too, and for a lot more people. Everyone was staring (and trying really hard to make it seem like they weren’t staring) at the motorcycle parked by the curb. Or, more likely, they were staring at the man leaning against it.

Danny had no qualms taking a moment to stare himself. Jason looked great in tight, black wash jeans and a black and red leather jacket over a grey button up. Ancients it was good to see him again, text and calls just weren’t the same.

“Hey dead boy!” Danny called out. Heads swiveled to him with shocked gasps, but Danny only had eyes for Jason and the smile that lit up his face.

“Hey, fish.” Jason tucked his phone in his back pocked and leaned back in a way that let his legs fall a little more open.

Danny didn’t hesitate to slip in between them and tug Jason into a kiss by his jacket. He gave a pleased hum as Jason’s large hands settled on his hips, rubbing little circles there.

“Good surprise?” Jason asked. He exuded swagger and confidence, but Danny knew Jason well enough now to see the nerves behind the smirk.

Hoping to soothe the worry, Danny kissed Jason again. “Great surprise.”

Some of the well hidden tension bled out of Jason’s shoulders. Still, he apologized, “I think people might have recognized me.”

“Ya think?” Danny asked with a laugh. “As cool as your bike is, I’m pretty sure it’s you that drew this crowd. I don’t mind though.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now stop worrying, dead boy, I’m starving and your text promised food.”

“Oh, I see how it is, you’re just using me for food,” Jason grumbled and shoved Danny playfully away.

Danny let himself stumble back with a laugh and caught the helmet that was tossed his way. “Come on, Jason, feed your starving college boy.”

“And what does my starving college boy want?” Jason asked before he tugged on his own helmet and swung one leg over his bike.

“Hum, other than you?” Danny teased once his helmet was on, knowing only Jason could hear him now. His words were rewarded with a snort of amusement. “Let’s go to that great Greek place.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Now if I had known that,” Danny said with a laugh. He settled behind Jason, pressing close and resting a hand on Jason’s hip. As they pulled away he gave a cheeky little wave to his friends who had come to gawk with the rest of the students.

Looked like he’d have more yelling over text messages to answer. Oh well, the reward of speeding down the streets of Gotham with Jason was worth it.

-----

AN: Well, more and more people learn about Danny and Jason Wayne. I wounder who else needs to learn about them? Huuuummmmmm.....

As always, stay delightful my darlings and maybe make sure to hydrate too!

I no longer tag people! You can instead subscribe to the masterpost to be notified.

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

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happy74827 · 11 months ago

Text

Happy Accidents

[Todd Ingram x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You might've broken your leg due to Todd, but that didn't mean you couldn't still have quality time together.

WC: 2672

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

This was such a random plot I came up with, but I’m actually in love with it. I feel that this little one-shot is 100% Todd accurate (I say little but it’s literally 2k words lol).

Also, please don’t send the vegan police after me for my inaccuracies (lmao). Google was my only option 😭😭

『••✎••』

Spending time at the hospital wasn’t the plan you had in mind for your Friday night. You expected it with you curled up on your couch watching whatever crappy reality show that was airing with Todd by your side.

He was always the perfect person to binge with; his reactions were an endless source of sarcastic commentary. It actually made it funnier.

But you couldn't be too upset. You still had Todd, and you had… some television. Sure, it wasn’t 90 Day Fiancé, but it was better than nothing.

Usually, when it came to broken legs, you were at the hospital for two hours. Two. Hours. Not you, of course. Your boyfriend had to be a vegan and have those whacked-out powers. It was a given that there’d be an accident.

Who knew a flying amp could be so hard to catch?

At least you didn't have a concussion. The only injury was your leg, but your leg was completely messed up. Three different fractures in your femur and a torn ligament. It was the most you had ever been injured in your life, including all those times you fell off your bike or when you broke your arm in third grade.

The doctors at the hospital said that they couldn't let you leave until Monday. Surgery was also still on the table and could happen as early as tomorrow, which you definitely weren’t paying for

So, you were stuck in the hospital, eating the terrible hospital food and watching stupid television.

And the worst part about all of this was that it was slowly taking your mind off of Todd.

It was only the last couple months when the two of you started dating. Neither of you were exactly serious or anything, but you had feelings.

He was a big guy and a real sweetheart, not to mention a badass with those powers of his. It was obvious that he had a good heart, and he didn't take shit from anybody. That included you.

You had to admit that it was cute when he got jealous. He never had to worry, though. You were never interested in guys like him. You had your eye on Todd, and now you were stuck in a hospital bed because of him.

Now that it was just a memory, the moment you broke your leg was pretty comical. Envy needed a rehearsal before their band went out on tour the following week, and since you and Todd planned the night out together, you attended their quick practice.

As usual, they were awesome. You were like a little fangirl when Envy started singing. You kept your cool, though, sitting on the couch while they ran tempo and entrances. You weren't paying too much attention either, until you heard a voice and turned your head.

Lynette, the drummer, apparently had a very salty day and decided to pick fights with Envy’s ideas. She even suggested that she should learn how to write songs. That was a big no-no when it came to Envy, and it was made very clear that it would be her last comment for the day.

It was a blur, really. Envy and Lynette were throwing insults at each other, and Todd was caught in the middle of it. He was pretty bad at confrontation when it didn’t technically involve him and so he usually let it slide, but something about Lynette had pissed him off this time.

You could still remember the words he said.

"You know what I hate about you? Your hair."

You giggled, and that was your mistake. Lynette absolutely loved her hair. That haircut was her pride and joy. Todd could never understand what it was about it, but it was Lynette's favorite feature.

So, when he insulted her favorite thing in the world, she immediately started attacking your boyfriend, causing you to go over and try to stop this before it escalated.

Well, it escalated. Todd subconsciously went into “vegan mode” when he was mad. It was a defense mechanism or something like that. In any case, an accidental movement of his hand had an expensive amplifier aimed right at your leg.

Envy saw it coming and screamed his name to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear her over Lynette, and you couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

And then, everything stopped. All you felt was the excruciating pain that was apparently your broken bone, multiple places, as you later found out. Your mind went blank for a moment as all the horrified expressions of each band member turned towards you.

Todd threw the amplifier aside with his powers, profusely apologizing to you. His hair settled back down to normal as he took you in his arms.

"Oh, god, am I an idiot." He said. "I didn't mean to… oh, man, you’re okay, right?"

You were on the verge of tears when you nodded your head. The adrenaline of the moment had taken over your pain as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

Envy most definitely cursed him out on your behalf. Lynette was still pissed as she stood off to the side, crossing her arms with a huff. She didn’t really know you, so she didn’t really care that you got hurt.

But Todd knew you, and he cared a whole hell of a lot about you. He was going to be making up to you for a while. You were going to get the apology of a lifetime and probably an entire chocolate cake with strawberries. You loved strawberries.

You did not care about your injury at that moment, though. The scene of Todd apologizing to you, Envy yelling derogatory words at him that were obviously unknown to him, and Lynette's head turning in the other direction was probably one of the best sights you had ever witnessed in your life.

“How’re you feeling?” Todd’s voice snapped you out of your memory. He was in the chair beside you with a hospital pillow on his lap. He had a bag of Doritos in his hand, which he was munching on.

You turned your head over to him and couldn't help but smile. It was a smile full of love and adoration, one that made Todd raise an eyebrow.

"I'm alright," you replied, reaching for the water that was by your bedside. You failed miserably, but Todd noticed it and hovered it over to your hands.

He took the opportunity to grab another chip and take a bite before looking back at you.

"You sure you're okay? I mean, you got hurt 'cause of me.”

"That's what I get for dating a badass, I guess." You laughed, shaking your head.

Todd scoffed, "That's not funny."

"It kinda is."

"Whatever." He crossed his arms and pouted a little bit. "I'll have to watch my back more now. I could have killed you."

“It’s okay. Envy would’ve reunited us if you had. She would’ve torn you a new one. I'd say you dodged a bullet there.”

As Todd munched on his Doritos, nodding along to your words, you knew there was nothing in his brain that connected what you’d just said. He was most definitely agreeing, just to agree.

And just because of that, you couldn't help but admire him. He was sitting there with his messy hair and those brown eyes of his. His clothes were wrinkled, and you could see the tiredness in his eyes, but none of it mattered to you because he was still so beautiful.

Todd being a vegan was also a blessing because it gave him such an amazing physique. He was lean but toned, his abs always visible even under his baggy shirts. Not that you cared if they were showing or not.

"Can I have a chip?” You asked him.

He turned towards you with a look of horror on his face. "You don’t like these. You like the non-vegan Doritos.”

“Aren’t they all… not vegan?”

Todd let out a sigh, his eyes rolling back.

"Not these. Spicy Sweet Chili. I got these from the vending machine. They're for me."

He sounded like a little child, which you couldn't help but laugh at. He always was so serious about these things, even though they were snacks that were meant to be shared with people.

"That's not what I asked." You said.

"Yeah, but-"

You made grabby hands at him. You were starting to feel that pain again as your muscles were getting tired. You needed those chips.

"Todd, please."

He let out a sigh, trying to hold back a smile. He was always such a big softie for you.

He handed over a bag of chips, and you wasted no time in taking one. Immediate regret as you took a bite out of the spicy snack, choking as you did so. You managed to swallow it down before taking in a drink of water to wash it all down.

"Told you that you wouldn't like them." He said with a grin.

"I… like them. I just don't like how I feel after I eat them."

"Mhmm.”

You glared at him, narrowing your eyes. "Stop being smug."

"I can't help it if I'm so cool." He winked.

He wasn't wrong, though. Todd had a very good self-esteem about himself and was never shy to tell you so. But it was the way he said it, that smug look of his and his stupid wink, that made you want to punch him and kiss him.

It was those little things.

"You know," you said as you crossed your arms, "this isn't how I planned on spending my Friday night."

"I know, babe. I know."

"I mean, I thought we were going to have some quality time. The two of us and the TV, I really wanted to catch up on that old Ed and Rose storyline.”

"I know, I know.”

"And instead, I'm here with and because of you." You glared at him as you finished your sentence.

He was ready for your attack, crossing his arms to match yours. You two were in the middle of a staring contest when Todd opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse came in at the worst possible moment to interrupt him.

"Ah, you're awake. How're you feeling?”

Unfortunately, this made Todd win the battle as you were forced to look at the nurse. She had a smile on her face, one that made you feel relaxed. Todd turned to look at her as well.

"I'm feeling better now." You said. "Thank you for asking."

The nurse nodded her head, writing down your words before turning to Todd with a smile. "Since your friend—”

“Girlfriend.” He corrected her, pointing a finger at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, turning your head to the side as you did so. Your laughter got the nurse to smile.

"I apologize. Since your girlfriend is doing better, you’re welcome to visit back in the morning. Visitation hours are from eight to twelve and one to three. After that, only family will be allowed in.”

Todd turned to look at you, and you could see that he wanted to say something, but with a simple nod from you, he leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed, giving the nurse his attention.

She gave him another smile as she looked back at you. "I’ll come back in about an hour for a checkup. Press the button if you need anything in the meantime."

"Thank you." You replied.

She left the room smiling, leaving the two of you to look at each other.

You let out a sigh as you leaned your head back on the bed, closing your eyes. Todd's eyes never left you, staring at you as you did so.

“Should've said we were married. I would've been able to stay the night here." He said.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be able to sleep because of your snoring. You know, that's why I get up so early in the mornings. I have no choice but to leave the bed when you're snoozing away."

Todd had the audacity to smile at that, shaking his head.

"Whatever, I don't snore. Besides, you love the way my arms feel around you."

You opened one eye, staring at him. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"No. I'm just stating the facts. I have great arms if you hadn't noticed."

You scoffed at him and his bragging. You closed your eyes again.

"I hate you so much."

"I know." He said with a smirk on his face. “Can I have my chips back now? You ate almost all of them."

You handed the bag back to him without another word, sighing deeply. You could feel Todd's stare at you as he opened up the bag again.

You heard him take another chip into his mouth as he stared at you, but he was too quiet, so you knew he had something else to say.

"What?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know that I meant it when I said sorry, right?"

"Of course I know, Todd. You always apologize."

He swallowed down his chips. "Yeah, but this time I really meant it. I was so scared when you got hurt. I didn’t mean to; I just got pissed at Lynette, and that all happened."

"Todd, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it. You would never hurt me."

"You're sure?" He asked.

You opened up your eyes again, looking at him. He was staring down at his lap as he said those words, biting his lip. You could tell that he was genuinely worried about this, so you reached over and made grabby hands again, but instead of the chips, you were looking for him.

Todd looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. He placed the bag of chips aside and got out of his chair, going over to the side of the bed to look at you. You placed both of your hands on either side of his neck, smiling at him.

"I'm positive. I know how much I mean to you, Todd. You don't need to worry. I'm not mad at you."

He was looking right into your eyes as you said that and nodded his head, moving closer toward you as he placed his hands on the side of the bed. You didn't want him to be too far away from you, so you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear."

"I know." You replied. "It's not your fault."

You stared at each other for a few more moments before he leaned down and kissed you. He placed both of his hands on either side of the bed as he deepened the kiss. He didn't do this often, but when he did, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He was also extremely careful now that you had broken your leg, making sure that he wasn't putting any pressure on your side. He placed one hand on your face to hold you in place as he kissed you while his other hand supported his body.

It felt like a few minutes had passed before he broke the kiss. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."

It wasn't the first time he said it, and it definitely wasn't the first time you had said it to him, but it was the first time you heard those words without any fear in his voice. There was no worry, no hesitation, only love.

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a smile on his face. His brown eyes always captivated you, especially when he smiled.

You felt your own smile spread as you looked into those beautiful eyes of his, kissing him on the cheek before snuggling up to him.

You felt his hands wrap around your body and sighed contently. Eventually, he’d have to leave, but until then, you were going to enjoy this.

And if it came with spicy chips, then even better.

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maemelany · 3 months ago

Text

RACING HEARTS - Part 3: MONACO II

Pairings: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: You had spent an incredible week with Lewis before the Monaco GP. But a strange interaction with a friend of his has already stirred trouble in paradise, filling you with doubt and leaving you unsettled.

Warnings: Allusion to smut, but nothing too explicit. Angst (and a lot of frustration). Other than that, all fluff.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: This one is a roller coaster. In true fashion of mine, you’ll leave with more questions than answers. (I do love torturing you guys a bit, haha.)

And don’t hate y/n. I’m sure we’ve all been in situations like that, where we knew what was right, but still, it takes courage to do it, so we just avoided doing it.

Enjoy it, and let’s discuss it in the comments. What would you have done? I can’t wait to read your POVs.

Love, Mae.

Series masterlist here

Full masterlist here

You woke up in a room bathed with the sun and the water’s reflection on the wall. That was a scenery you wouldn’t mind getting used to. It was so beautiful; even after the last few days, you were still amazed every time you woke up. The man sleeping next to you was also a view you were still not getting used to. You brushed your fingers over his naked torso, soft enough to make sure you weren’t dreaming but not waking him up.

Today was the last free day before the weekend race began. You found it funny that for Lewis, weekends usually meant work, and they started on a Friday.

The past four days had been fantastic. You didn’t know what to expect when you agreed to come here, but the reality exceeded whatever you could have thought of.

Lewis did not leave your side at all, showing you around the city the best he could without attracting too much attention. It was easier than you thought, as people in Monaco were so used to celebrities. You got away with only a few people asking for pictures with Lewis. No paparazzi, no invasion of privacy.

You went to the best restaurants and had terrific conversations, confirming what you already knew. Lewis’s personality was better than his looks. You still didn’t think you would ever be the biggest F1 fan, but you were a fan of his. And despite your aversion to speed, you found you had a lot of things in common, the most surprising being your love for Indian food.

Lewis asked you what you would love to eat one evening, and you didn’t hesitate to ask if he knew of any good Indian restaurant around. Oh, he did; just thinking about that place made your stomach growl.

Which was another reason you woke up so early. You were hungry, and you also wanted to surprise Lewis with breakfast.

The boat’s kitchen was loaded with food, and you were glad that there were a lot of veggies, which wasn’t at all surprising, Lewis being vegan.

You were almost done when you felt Lewis’s arms around your waist. You smiled, enjoying the embrace.

“Hello,” he whispered, leaving small kisses on your shoulder. “You’re up early today.”

You couldn’t explain with words what his morning voice was doing to you. The raspy sound just felt so intimate you just wanted to go back to bed again.

You shook your head, trying to focus. He was not going to ruin your perfect breakfast surprise.

“You took it very seriously when I asked you to wear my shirt, didn’t you?” he said, openly staring at your body in his shirt and nothing else.

“You don’t like it? I can remove it,” you said, teasing him

He raised his eyebrows, still not looking at you. “Please do”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said, laughing

Again, you could definitely get used to it. It felt so natural being in his arms, enjoying his kisses and feeling so wanted. It didn’t matter if you were wearing a sexy dress or a – his – t-shirt, Lewis made you feel like you were the hottest person in the world.

“You are not going to ruin my surprise, sir. We are having breakfast. Like normal people.”

Lewis chuckled. “Normal people? I thought we were already normal people.”

“Normal people don’t have sex every morning and take naps right after because they’re too tired,” you said, searching for plates.

He burst out laughing. “I told you we needed to build your stamina.”

“Well, I’ll build it by having breakfast.”

“Fine. What do we have here?” Lewis asked

“Omelettes!”

When you found the plates, you turned around to face him. Lewis was looking at the frying pan while making a weird face.

“Don’t worry, it’s vegan. I used chickpea flour and water,” you said, placing the plates on the counter.

“Hmm,” Lewis said, still staring at the omelettes.

You were now confused. “What?”

He shook his head, giving him a smile he might have thought reassuring, but really it was concerning. Maybe he had a very structured nutrition plan, and you were messing with it, especially a day before the races started.

“We can skip breakfast; it’s okay,” you finally said

“Oh no. You woke up early for this; of course, we’ll have breakfast. It looks yummy.”

Now, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Okay…”

Lewis was silent as you two started eating. Eating was a big word as you were the only one actually putting stuff in your mouth. He was simply playing around it as if he was trying to avoid something.

He caught you staring and as if to reassure you, took a bite. You watched him chew slowly and then swallow it before making a tortured sound. You would have laughed if you weren’t so frustrated.

“Seriously, Lewis. What is it? You can tell me if you think it’s not good.”

“It’s not that it’s not good. I’m sure it is. Actually, that bite wasn’t …”

“Then what is it?” you asked, out of patience.

“Onions! It’s the damn onions,” he finally said, pushing the plate away from him.

You blanked. And then you started panicking the second after.

“Oh my god! Are you allergic? Lewis, what the fuck! Please tell me you’re not allergic to onions.”

“I’m not. I just… I hate it. It’s disgusting.”

You stared at him, shocked. “You… hate onions?”

“I do! If I can’t see it, it’s fine; I’ll eat it because, well, I don’t know what’s in it. But this…” he said, pointing at his plate. “I tried to eat it; I swear, love. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but Jesus, why did you need to put so much? It’s everywhere!”

He looked so offended. You couldn’t help it anymore, and you burst out laughing. You couldn’t stop laughing, holding your stomach.

“Oh, you think it’s funny,” he said, getting closer to you

“I’m sorry, Lewis. It’s just… I wasn’t…” you couldn’t even finish a sentence without laughing. “I mean… it’s onions.”

“And I hate it.”

He then tried to explain his hatred for onions; every word he said made you laugh harder.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to avoid onions when I cook for you in the future,” you said when you finally stopped laughing.

You noticed how he tensed a little when you said it, but you didn’t think much about it. Instead, you let yourself be distracted as he held you up and put you on the counter.

“I was promised breakfast, though,” he said, his hands on your knees.

You didn’t fight it as he spread your legs. “And I always keep my promises.”

“I’m sure you do,” he whispered.

You watched Lewis’s face disappear between your legs, forever changing the meaning of breakfast in your mind.

You startled awake, disoriented for a few seconds. The sun was now high up and shining bright.

“She’s up,” Lewis said, playing with your hair.

It came back to you how Lewis made you scream his name in the kitchen and then carried you to the sundeck because you momentarily forgot how to use your legs. You sunbathed, enjoying the sun while cuddling with Lewis. And of course, you fell asleep, because how not to when you were so relaxed?

“I think you were right about building my stamina,” you said

Lewis laughed. “I like you tired; it means I did a great job.”

“I’m sure you do.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging and talking. It felt good talking about everything from the weekend to what you had planned for the weeks ahead.

You never felt like you were boring him. He always listened, asked questions, and made sure you felt heard.

You wouldn’t have minded spending the rest of the day doing just that, talking and enjoying each other’s presence. But Lewis asked you if you wanted to meet his friends during a dinner they had planned.

That was how you ended up in Matt’s apartment. They were old friends, and Matt did not ask questions when Lewis introduced you as his friend. You also met Charlotte, his personal assistant, and she was just the most charming woman. She confessed to following you on social media, and you ended up having a nice conversation about a current drama on TikTok.

Lewis made fun of you two for being so addicted to social media, and Charlotte joked that he was just old.

You were having an amazing time, enjoying nice conversations and hearing funny stories about Lewis. Everything was perfect until Jessica arrived.

Jessica was a petite, stunning brunette with big brown eyes. She seemed to know everyone, making them laugh and effortlessly captivating their attention.

She was your total opposite, and you were okay with it. You learned to accept that it took you longer to be entirely comfortable with strangers and that you will never be the life of the party. You were too reserved for that, and while that type of charisma was to be saluted, it simply wasn’t who you were.

But then, it wasn’t her behaviour that made you so uncomfortable; it was how she kept touching Lewis. His shoulder, his lap, the woman’s hands were everywhere. It was subtle, but you sure noticed it. Judging by the sorry glances you got, everybody noticed it except Lewis.

“All good?” Lewis whispered when your eyes met

You opened your mouth, ready to answer, but were stopped by his phone ringing. He apologized and moved away to take the call.

With Matt busy with dessert in the kitchen with Charlotte, you were left alone with Jessica. You didn’t know what to say, so you smiled at her before making yourself look busy on your phone.

“So, you’re with Lewis? God, he picks them younger and younger.”

You raised your head from your phone. You blinked at her, not sure what she meant and why she was saying that.

“Excuse me?” you finally said, wanting to make sure you heard her right

Jessica smiled. But there was nothing nice about it; it felt condescending and as if she was just pitying you.

“I’m not trying to upset you. It’s just, I guess, girl code, you know. I’m just warning you here.”

Girl code? It sure didn’t feel like it.

“Thank you, but I’ll pass. We’re fine,” you said, still trying to keep calm.

“We?” Jessica said with a small laugh. “What? He let you stay at his place for a few nights and made you feel like you were so amazing, and now you think you’re an item? Common girl”

Jessica kept talking, but you stopped paying attention. You glitched at what she said before. You stayed at his place for a few nights…

Jessica was trying to make fun of you, but the irony was that you just realized you’d never been to Lewis’s actual place.

You were so distracted by everything you didn’t even stop to think that, surely, Lewis did not live in that yacht.

Lewis came back, and then Matt and Charlotte, but you didn’t. You were stuck in your thoughts, trying to figure out what Jessica had implied. You laughed on key when everyone was laughing but weren’t in it anymore; you just wanted to leave.

The mood didn’t light up when you and Lewis left. You were silent the entire drive back to the marina. He had asked you if everything was okay, but you weren’t ready for that conversation.

One, because it wasn’t the right time; you didn’t want to distract him from what he had to do the rest of the week. But the main reason you didn’t want to have that talk was that you were scared of what he would say.

You weren’t ready to hear that you had been delusional and that those past days didn’t mean what you thought they meant.

“y/n? Are you okay?” Lewis asked again when you got inside the yacht.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

By the time you finished your skincare routine, avoiding Lewis, you were tired—but not physically. You were tired from overthinking, and you just wanted to sleep the hurt away.

“Are you sleeping, love?” Lewis whispered when he joined you in the bed

You weren’t, but still didn’t answer. He held you closer to him as your eyes remained closed.

The next day, you woke up to Lewis getting ready to go to the circuit. You watched him silently as he got ready, smiling at his routine.

“Hey,” He said when he noticed you were awake

“Hey,” you responded

The air had never been so tense between the two of you. Usually, the conversation was easygoing; you didn’t even have to think about it. Even the silences were usually peaceful. Right now, the silence was heavy.

“Do you… do you always stay on this yacht when you’re in Monaco?” you finally asked

“Hmm, no? I have a place in the city. Why?” he asked you, distracted by an email he was reading.

You thought so. Jessica was right.

“I think I’ll book a hotel room. You need time to focus, and I don’t want to be in the way.”

This time, Lewis raised his eyes to look at you. They were full of incomprehension. He wanted to say something but stopped.

“If that’s what you want, sure. I’ll book you something.”

Your heart broke a little bit more.

“I’ve already taken care of it, don’t worry about it.”

You had just lied but didn’t want him to book the hotel. You could do it yourself.

“You’ll still come to the races, right?”

That confirmed it – you were getting dismissed after Sunday

“Of course.”

He nodded. It felt like he was hurt, and you couldn’t understand why. This was just another weekend for him. His friend even said so.

“I’ll see you there then,” Lewis said before leaving the room

No goodbye, no kisses. It hurt.

While you still attended the race on Sunday, you stayed away from the track the days before.

You didn’t even leave your hotel room, focusing on work to keep you occupied. Lewis did not reach out, and you didn’t either. It felt so weird after spending every second with him only a few days before.

The race on Sunday was good. You saw him briefly before it started. He seemed surprised and yet happy to see you there. The hug he gave you also felt good. It lasted a few seconds more than a normal hug, and you enjoyed every second.

“Can we talk after the race?” Lewis whispered

He was called for a last-minute meeting before you could give him an answer.

After that, you watched the race from the Mercedes hospitality suite. No matter what was going on, you were still rooting for Lewis. And him making the podium again this week made you happy.

One more time, you didn’t feel it appropriate to celebrate with the rest of the team.

They had sacrificed so much. They knew what it meant to Lewis. They knew Lewis. You didn’t feel like you did.

You were about to leave again when you ran into Lewis on the stairs. He was smiling, but it disappeared when he noticed your bag in your hands. He knew you were about to leave.

He took your hand and started walking towards his room.

“Lewis,” you said, but he wasn’t listening.

“What the hell is going on, Y/n?” Lewis said when he closed the door.

“Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating or having interviews?”

“What is going on, y/n?” he repeated. “We had the most amazing week, and then you just… what happened?”

You didn’t understand why he was so confused. Wasn’t it what he wanted?

“Your friend, Jessica. She’s not just a friend, is she?”

He looked more confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why did we spend the entire week on the boat?” you finally asked. “Was I the savour of the week? You impressed me, and then what, on to the next one next week?”

Lewis seemed to finally understand. “Y/n, love…”

He got interrupted by a knock on the door. “Press conferences are about to start,” the voice said

“Fuck” Lewis said

He looked at you, his eyes pleading. “I can explain everything. Come to Spain with me. I’ll explain everything on the flight.”

You had a dry laugh. “Common, Lewis”

“Please. I planned on asking you to come all along. Shit just happened. Fly with him, and I’ll answer all your questions. If it doesn’t satisfy you, I’ll get you on the first plane from Barcelona to New York.”

He waited for your answer, a more impatient knock interrupting him again.

“Please”

That was the last thing he said before leaving you there. Stay and fly to Spain with him?

Every ounce of self-preservation in you was screaming for you to leave. But there was that tiny bit of hope whispering that this week must have meant something. It had to…

Taglsit (let me know if you want to be added) :

@carelessreadersstuff @champagneproblems17 @shelbyteller @xoscar03 @lh44girl

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lh44 x reader #fanfiction #smut #formula 1 #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #angst x reader #fluff #fem reader #x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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shawtyfromdirtydocks · 17 days ago

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Had an idea and I just have to share it with you guys so enjoy this ramble or whatever the fucking terminology is

20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI

Slowly

König x Reader

Content: Fluff, fluffy fluff mcfluffing fluff, black!reader as always, mentions of cooked meat (sorry vegans, I love soul food), slow jamz and intimacy. Enjoy <3

P.S. this was not at all proof read and I'm falling asleep

König loves to be present and enjoy moments before they become memories. Which is perfect because you do too. It's what keeps your relationship intimate and lovely. Grown and sexy if you will.

In the beginning he watched you cook Sunday dinners. Slow jams or soul and R&B sounds flowing oh so sweetly from the big speakers he bought you when he figured out you worked better with music.

He longed to glide around that kitchen with you. Washing the dirty dishes you used to cook as you stood at the stove. Coming up behind you as you flipped whatever meat you were cooking for the night. Kissing your shoulders and wrapping his arms around your waist, relaxing into the sweet smell of your cocoa butter coated skin.

Oh but he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You were just so captivating. The way you hummed a melody or occasionally sang a duet with one of your favorite singers never failed to make him smile. He was absolutely astonished by your beauty. How could he have gotten so lucky?

You taught him that he should always make memories whenever he could though. Before you, he didn't really have a reason to.

He didn't speak much about his childhood but he mentioned the reason for his social awkwardness being that he was picked on growing up, and that was really all you needed to know. Before you, he didn't think his life would be worth looking back on. You made him appreciate his life more.

The power you held over your life inspired him. So he decided to join you in the kitchen one day. Offering his help eagerly because you were clearly the one in charge.

Learning the classics and a few recipes, but most importantly, making warming memories while strengthening the connection you both shared. He couldn't be more grateful for you teaching him to start living his life more slowly.

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one-piece-aus · 6 months ago

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Unbottle Your Emotions

Eustass Kid x Reader (Part 2)

"Yo yo yo! How are my favourite non-party people doing?"

"Hi Apoo," you greeted the DJ who slung his long arms around you and Hawkins.

Apoo's the extrovert friend that adopted you and Hawkins. At first, you didn't understand why he decided to hang around you guys until he admitted he felt excluded by the social crowd in school. You and Hawkins had let him be a part of the conversation and he liked being around you guys after getting to know you. He invited both of you to a few of his parties but then realized you weren't party people, hence the nickname.

"Greetings Scratchman, are you planning to join us for lunch?" Hawkins asked Apoo while you closed your locker.

"You know it," Apoo replied and took his arms off your shoulders, aware you didn't like physicalness for too long. "Where we heading?"

"We're going to the vegan restaurant Hawkins wanted to try," you answer as the three of you head out of the school.

"What?" Apoo look at you dumbfounded. "I thought you didn't like that stuff [N/n]."

"[Y/n] had been partnered with Eustass in English and their last conversation left her not wanting to face the redhead again, so she asked me to get her stuff and we're going to the restaurant as her returning the favour," Hawkins explained to Apoo.

"Oh, you're partnered with Kid?" Apoo looked to you for a response. Seeing you only nod, made him switch topics. "... Hm, to the restaurant we go. What's going to be served there anyway? Salads?"

"You are aware vegans eat more than just vegetables," Hawkins stated with an unamused expression, though to those who pass by, he still kept the same face.

"My bad." Apoo held up his hands in defence. "But you can't blame a guy for thinking vegans just eat rabbit food."

Hawkins would've glared at the DJ if not for you giggling, seeing you amused made him let it slide for now. "Rest assured, there are a variety of dishes you'll be able to choose from."

"We'll see about that," you said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yo, the coconut cheese nachos were da bomb!" Apoo exclaimed as he exited the restaurant. "Who knew vegan food taste so good!"

"Ehhh, I still prefer my burgers," you teased the blond who held the door.

"I'm at least grateful you gave it a try, even if it was for paying back a favour," Hawkins said, letting the door close and joining your side.

"Yeah, yeah." You waved it off.

Your mood has picked up since this morning, practically forgetting what had happened in the first place. You suppose you could thank Apoo for his infectious upbeat vibe. Despite how annoying he can be, it's nice to have someone who can distract you from stressful things in life.

"Next time I'm picking where we eat!" Apoo declared walking backwards in front of you and Hawkins.

"Sure, do me a favour sometime and we'll go." You smiled. "Just as long as it's not you trynna sneak us into a club with a bar again."

"Aw right!" Apoo threw his arm up. "Trust me guys when I say, you are gonna love- Oof!" He stumbled forward when he bumped into something, or rather, someone.

"Watch where you're going," a blue-haired guy said.

"Yo-" Apoo turned around, his defensive mode switched on. "Maybe if you didn't stand around blocking the sidewalk I wouldn't have to," he "countered".

You deadpanned, it's not the first you've seen Apoo puff his pride to where you can hardly tell the difference between him and a barking chihuahua, it just gets old after so many times. Perhaps this attitude of his is the main reason he's excluded from the social crowd at school. Though, it never bothered you much since you knew it wasn't real beef, and Hawkins... tolerated it? Well, he never brought it up so you can only assume as much.

Hawkins rolled his eyes and passed by the two. "Leave it, Scratchman."

"Come on, Apoo." You walked by him and patted the other's shoulder. "Sorry about him."

"Yo, can't you see I'm not the one at fault here?" Apoo questioned you guys.

"People who don't watch their surroundings get killed." The guy glared at Apoo, and that's when you recognized who this guy was. He's Heat from Kid's gang, which means the rest are nearby.

No... no no no. You already didn't want to bump into Kid again, being in range of his anger is so much worse. The thought alone caused stress to weigh on your mind. Haistly, you spun on your heels.

"You threatening me or some- hey!" Apoo didn't finish when you grabbed his arm and scrambled to get away. "Ayo, what gives [Y/n]?"

"Go. Go! Before-"

"What's the going on here?"

Fear ceased your haste, and colour drained from your skin. You knew the voice belonged to Kid before you turned around, though it didn't surprise you that the rest of his crew followed in company. Seems like they came out of one of the restaurants.

"Nuh- nothing! My friend just accidentally bumped into your buddies, sorry about that." You bow to show your respect as you apologize, nudging Apoo to do the same.

"What? I ain't apologizing." Apoo frowned at you.

Kid got ready to pick a bone when he saw you throw a deadly glare at Scratchman while gripping the guy's arm and not two seconds later it had Scratchman saying sorry. He eyed you, intrigued, the actions you just displayed shined a different side of you he had not seen in English class. You gave off the impression you were an academic scatterbrain, then he found out you listen to metal which confused him. You seemed too submissive and agreeable to be into something so hardcore. That glare you threw at Apoo told another story. You were strange, he couldn't figure you out. Perhaps there's more to uncover.

Kid narrowed his eyes at you as if staring at a puzzle. "You should hang out with other classmates, [L/n]."

"It's not like anyone else wants to be around me," you muttered to yourself, not knowing Kid picked it up. "We'll be leaving now, have a good day Eustass." You flashed a soft smile at him.

Little did you know the effect your smile would have on Kid would start something.

#one piece #one piece x reader #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece eustass #eustass kid #kidd x reader #eustass kid x you #eustass kid x y/n #x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #platonic basil hawkins #unbottle your emotions

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 3 months ago

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School-side Staycation - Staff Shenanigans

@ashipiko has a super fun 1k follower event going on that reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend a While ago!! I decided to turn it into a drabble, so I hope you guys enjoy some NRC Staff Shenanigans!! (Including my staff/greenhouse caretaker oc, Aspen Zoi - I apologize in advance for the stim word "like" OTL if you don't check out his profile, just know he speaks like your stereotypical surfer/hippie/stoner)

Also apologies OTL I have to write on my phone due to Technical Difficulties, RIP my formatting. Um just as a heads up, there is some food talk in regards to calories and dieting. It's not talked about a lot, but it is in there.

Also also this is my first time writing all the staff together so I hope it's at least entertaining!

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"Turkey burgers, really Divus, I'd have thought better of you." Mozus scoffed lightheartedly over the younger man's shoulder, watching the black latex clad hands work in a mix of shredded vegetables into the meat.

Crewel raised a questioning brow to his senior, using his shoulder to push away hair from his face for the upteenth time that day. Even with his dark shades on, both the unamusement and the spark of competitiveness was felt to be fanned.

"Well, Mozus, if you cared to ever look past those dusty old history books of yours and indulge in the dietary world, you would know that ground turkey-"

"Sucks. It sucks." Vargas interrupted, shaking his head in disappointment. He was wearing near neon orange shorts and a white tank top, though clearly splattered with some stains from his preparation, shades sat nicely atop his lofty locks. His food was currently concealed in the two heaping platters he had under aluminum foil as he set them down on the table next to the barbeque. "It's got less protein, less iron, less zinc, and more sodium than ground beef. It has a little more 'healthy' fat," the air quotes were heavily emphasized by the gym teacher, "but for Sevens sake Divus, it's supposed to be a vacation sort of thing. Let the kids loose for a little while."

An audible "hmph" left the alchemy professor, moreso at Trein's smug grin than Ashton as he refocused on his work. His UV protectant, black, long sleeve shirt was rolled up to his elbows, a simple red short sleeve button up layered on top. "Not everyone can afford to give up their calorie intake over a vacation."

"Then you may as well have just made black bean patties and volunteered yourself to make the vegan option."

Trein sighed and shook his head at Ashton's apparent naivety as he opened his grill, throwing a few patties on. Perhaps his air of superiority would have been less humorous if not for the cargo shorts, white shirt, the blue, green, pink and yellow tropical overshirt, the matching, tropical bucket hat, and the apron that read "Grillmaster", but Trein continued anyways.

"He's using the leftovers of his dogs food that he thawed and forgot to use."

An awkward silence filled the air between the three of them, save for the soft sizzling of Treins burgers and the distant sounds of their beloved students having fun. Ashton spoke up in near disbelief.

"....Divus is that-"

The older of the two suppressed a scowl, trying to play it off best he could as he waved off his former underclassmans concern.

"Ground turkey is ground turkey, how I was going to use it is irrelevant! Really now Mozus was that necessary?!"

Vargas exchanged glances with Trein, before grinning a little more, willing to 'poke the bear'.

"I know you call them your pups but..."

Crewel felt his eye twitch slightly. Not much got to him, but the implication that 1. His dogs weren't incredibly dear to him, and 2. That his students weren't held to the same regard as his dogs in terms of how he cared for them, was not something he felt he could articulate well enough to get it through Ashton's thick, thick skull.

" It's still perfectly fine food, it's ought to be better than whatever Dire has!"

In an attempt to get the attention off of him for once, Crewel directed his, and his colleagues attention to the approaching headmage, ignoring the soft snickers behind him from Ashton for the sake of his sanity.

The headmage wore a huge grin under the stupid mask of his, dressed in his normal vacation attire. His arms were outstretched, as if anyone there would hug him as a greeting - none of them would, but especially not now that one was grilling, the other had his hands plunged into raw meat, and the third...well Vargas wasn't doing anything that would impede him from doing so, but he pretended to look busy as he fidgeted with the aluminum foil from one of his platters, careful to not lift it up.

Trein glanced at the headmage as he joined them under the white tents, his clawed gloves drawing most of his attention as Dire lowered his arms to his sides.

"Dire. What are you bringing to cook?"

The headmage looked at him blankly before smiling, chuckling a little awkwardly as he took his hat off and held it to his chest. As if he didn't already look pathetic, now he looked like he was going to apologize, and the staff in front of him already looked unamused.

"Ehe, well you see, I was generous enough to allow our students host this event-"

Knowing glances were exchanged between the three as Crowley continued.

"So neeever did I ever think my kindness would be taken advantage of like so! After all the budgeting and set up and organizing and ordering and nights laying awake and wondering how to make today the best success it could be, I didn't think I would be expected to cook too!"

The masked man rested the back of his hand against his head dramatically, trying and failing to gain the sympathy of the staff who all very well knew he had signed off on the event, and being a part of the catering. Hell, he had admitted it himself- he hadn't done any of that. That was all part of hosting, something that had very much not been on his shoulders, like many other responsibilities this year.

Vargas moved to the table across from Crewel, starting to make a protein-packed sauce to go with his still-mystery food, shooting Crowley a bit of a shit-eating grin.

"Well I guess you better go buy hotdogs or something from Sam's and be prepared to lose."

An indignant squawk left Dire, his dramatic display clearly not working in his favour, and he couldn't fathom why.

"Lose??"

"Hot stuff comin' through! And it ain't just me-"

Sam wheeled a tri-level service cart over the grass with ease, thanks to magic, each level with absolutely delicious smelling, but hidden food. Aspen followed close behind, Willow, his Pekin duck toddling after him.

Dire moved out of the way so as to let the trio through, Sam moving next to Vargas and starting to load tray after tray onto the serving table, a determined and slightly crazed expression on his face.

"Ain't nobody beatin' Mama's mac'n cheese recipe. Not even your fancy ass brisket Ashton, don't pretend like that ain't whatchyer tryna hide under there, I know you too damn well fo' you to try an' hide it."

Vargas and Same broke into easy conversation as Aspen hung back with Crowley, who was still visibly confused. He looked down at his hands, as if they held the answer to his questions.

"Lose?? Beating his mother's recipe??? What have I missed????"

Aspen's single, amused "haaah" was rather annoying to the headmage. Despite the sharp turn of his head and the glare he directed at Aspen, he just gave him his same old dopey grin.

"Aww man, you really didn't, like, read anything you signed, did ya? The teacher who like... looses the cook off gets pelted with water balloons by like...the whooole student body. It would really suck if one of us forgot to bring something. It'd be like...immediate disqualification or whatever."

The blond tilted his head a bit and giggled as he watched a few of the students play volleyball not far from them, oblivious to the rising panic on the headmage's face.

"But you haven't brought anything?! So what if two faculty members didn't bring anything?! The penalty is halved, right?!"

Aspen let out a small laugh.

"Hah. As if. Babygirl and I made seven layer salad, which is like, on Sam's cart, and a buncha desserts last night, isn't that right?" He bent down to pick up Willow, kissing her head as he cradled her. "I mean sure, baking isn't, like, COOKING but I don't think anybody is gonna complain about brownies 'nd, like, homemade ice cream, y'know? I just gotta wait to bring it out cuz..like....the ice cream...duh."

He waited a beat, the rising panic from the man beside him finally catching on. He was about to ask, but Crowley was on his knees next to Sam in a split second, holding his hand and groveling.

"PLEASE- no, actually, as your boss, I DEMAND you open your shop and sell me the best cuts of meat- no, actually, I want as many tube's of ground beef, ah, no, Trein is already- ground PORK-"

Sam shook his hand away from Crowley in mild disgust.

"Oh hell no, might I remind ya, I'm on vacation, as are the rest of us and the little imps. If you want to serve hot dogs, you'll have to go into town and move fast. Otherwise you're gonna have to embrace your fate of death by a thousand waterballoons." Sam swapped the position of one of his trays with Vargas' platter, so as to get his jerk chicken onto the grill after changing his glove out for an untouched one.

"With all due respect, your poor plannin' does NOT constitute an emergency on my part, Mr. Crowley, Sir."

Dire let out an undignified noise at Sam's facetiousness and lack of cooperation.

Trein looked down at the rather defeated looking headmage and sighed at the mess of a man, shaking his head again in disappointment.

"For Sevens sake, pull yourself together Dire. You could go ask the ghosts in the Cafeteria if they've got anything they'll lend you to cook."

Crowley looked like a kicked puppy at Trein for a moment before standing back up, beaming and near launching himself at him for a hug, which Trein avoided as if this was something that happened often. Despite not getting what he wanted, Crowley clearly had new vigor.

"Ah! You're right. Of course, if the ghosts are there I could- hm! Nevermind, nevermind, yes thank you my dear friend, I knew you wouldn't let me suffer! Unlike SOME people." He shot a fake dirty look at the rest of his beloved faculty, only to be met with snickers and mildly amused expressions. Yes, even with all their jests and disagreements, these were the people he felt most comfortable around. His expression softened for a half second before he clapped twice and smiled widely again.

"I'll be back with something delicious! I swear to defeat you all!" His voice lilted playfully, before he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

A shared sigh came from Trein and Crewel, amusing their younger colleagues with the similarity.

Crewel wiped at his head with his shoulder again, grinning knowingly at Trein.

"Mozus."

"Divus." Trein kept his focus trained on his burgers, though his voice had an air of amusement to it, and it was clear the corner of his mouth was kicked up in a small smile.

"Were you really trying to be of assistance?"

Crewel finished rolling the last of his turkey blend into disks, turning his full attention to his conniving collegue.

Trein hummed a bit in response.

"Yes. Not to him, to us, but his absence makes it much easier to concentrate."

Crewel shed his latex gloves, put some hand sanitizer on and walked over to 'supervise' Trein's grill, before grabbing a patty that was cooked and looking over it in mild disgust.

"Concentrate on what, perfecting a burn on your patties, oh 'grillmaster'" he mocked, breaking a piece off and eating it, hardly hiding his distaste.

"Ah, I see, you're trying to make up for your lack of seasoning using charcoal, well old man I can guarantee the turkey burgers you were so quick to dismiss will certainly be better than that piece of semi-edible Sahara."

Trein sighed, annoyed, plucking the rest of the patty from Crewel's fingers and throwing it out.

"I always burn my first one. It guarantees I won't burn the rest of them. If you used those astute powers of observation you're so proud of, you'd have seen the rest of the burgers are cooked beautifully."

He lifted the foil just enough to show Crewel the admittedly, mouth-wateringly delicious looking patties underneath, though Divus refused to show any indication that he was impressed.

"They're still bland. The students don't have a grandpa stomach like you."

Trein rolled his eyes internally, huffing, but even Sam and Aspen snickered at the comment.

"It will be fine once I make my sauce to go with them. My daughters love my cooking, I'm sure our students will as well. You have your dogs as reference for your tastes. I would be more worried if I was in your shoes."

Crewel moved towards Sam, who made room for him, moving his chicken to the top rack so Divus could use the main part of the grill to start cooking.

"You say that as if I don't cook for myself either. Really Mozus, I'm hurt by how lowly you think of me. Besides, I understand cooking as not only an art, but from the very chemical bases of it. I have every confidence that if no one else, I will be getting votes from Pomefiorians."

Aspen snorted from behind him, waving his hand dismissively.

"Nahh, Poms are gonna go for Sam's mac or, like, his chicken. They're like, tired of eating that Vil guys super bland food. Ya might, like, get Vil himself? Maybe? But I feel like he's prolly just gonna beeline it to my salad cuz of that new green diet thing one a his freshies said he's on. I only know cuz like, they were getting veggies from the greenhouse. If anything, I think ya might pull a few votes from Savanaclaw, but like, to be honest, even as a vegetarian, Ashton's brisket looks really good and prolly will come in after Sam's food."

Crewel let out a soft sigh, but Vargas was beaming, as Sam and Aspen exchanged finger guns and a wink. Trein squinted slightly at his watch.

"Lunch is meant to be in about 45 minutes. Aspen, Vargas, seeing as the two of you have nothing better to do, I suggest you start cutting up veggies for the burgers and fruit for after. Just make sure to use some hand sanitizer first."

The two exchanged a glance, both mouthing a mocking, lighthearted 'yes dad' behind Trein's back, making Sam snicker a bit.

"Dontchya worry Mozus, they got it covered."

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

And that's where my brain stopped RIP

In case you're wondering, Crowley showed up like 3 hours late and got ambushed. It's okay though his "food" would have put him in last place anyways.

I'm not used to typing things like this out on my phone, and I'm even less used to reading them so this is not proofread or betaread or like. I'm not. Rereading it so here's to hoping it flows okay and it's as engaging as I think it is lol.

ANYWAYS thank you for such a fun event Ashi!!

Taglist: (ask to be added)

@fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain

#v talks #twst #twisted wonderland #twst hcs #twst scenarios #twst oc #twst staff #nrc staff #mozus trein #ashton vargas #divus crewel #twst sam #twst fan event #oc: aspen #oc: aspen zoi #twst headcanons #twst fluff #twst crack

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rollingsins · 2 years ago

Text

all hers, part xvii

summary: The scooby-gang are back together. This time to silence Ghostface. Forever.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder.

word count: 4.4k

a/n: I was screaming, shaking, crying writing this chapter for some unknown reason. Call it writer's block. Sorry for the wait, thanks for all your guys' love and patience!

You wake up to the smell of pancakes.

Tara stirs, a little sleepy as you press a kiss to her neck, leaning down to check her dressing.

“It’s not like your parents to make us breakfast,” She murmurs, sitting up slightly. You were a cereal and toast kind of family. You furrow your brows, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Girls!” Sam’s voice calls up the stairs, “Breakfast is ready.”

Tara’s eyes widen.

“Oh no.”

Sam’s pancakes are made out of buckwheat flour and vegan butter. They’re brown - browner than a pancake should be, and her toppings are a mesh of eggs, avocado and chorizo. Not a raspberry, or blueberry - or any kind of traditional pancake topping in sight.

“Maple syrup isn’t good for you,” Sam assures when you ask for it. Instead, she offers a small bottle of honey, “Here. This is much healthier.”

Tara stares down at her plate, nudging her food suspiciously.

“It’s so nice to have a cook in the house,” Your mother gushes as she digs into her plate, “And this is really gourmet stuff. Our own little Gordan Ramsey.”

Tara swallows, her expression stormy. She picks up a piece of pancake with her fork and sniffs it. Makes a face.

Sam settles into the spot next to you. You take a half-hearted bite.

“How does it taste?” Sam asks, and you swallow, locking eyes with Tara.

“Healthy.”

“Good,” Sam says, sounding pleased with herself, “Tara needs nutrients.”

“Isn’t it nice of your sister to make you breakfast?” You ask Tara pointedly, nudging her foot under the table.

She blinks. Looks at you like she doesn’t want to answer.

You kick her again.

“Really nice, thanks Sam,” Tara mumbles into her plate.

It’s small and half-hearted. But it makes Sam beam.

It’s a Tuesday morning but you’re not in school.

Tara’s still too weak to walk for a prolonged amount of time, and you manage to convince your Dad it’s safer to stay home with Tara and Sam than go to school by yourself.

He and your Mom file out, one by one. He presses a kiss to your forehead. Makes sure you remember to lock the door on his way out.

They’ve been a little more at ease with Sam around, though she’s taken all their nervous energy and increased it tenfold. She spends most of her time checking the locks and cleaning her guns. The leftover is spent in the kitchen making Tara countless healthy snacks, to Tara’s great horror. Your room is filled with barely touched plates of carrot sticks and cucumber straws, tofu balls and seaweed crackers.

Sam is just as obsessive as her sister, though she shows it in a much different way.

Tara grumbles as she shoves another platter of hummus and carrots to your desk, phone pressed to her ear. She’s invited around her friends, and she must catch the look on your face because when she hangs up. She takes you in her arms and presses a long kiss to the side of your head.

“We need them,” She promises, “We need bodies to catch Ghostface.”

“If you say so,” You say, biting your lip.

It seems a little silly to you. Afterall, who’s to say one of them wasn't Ghostface? Between you and Tara, you had managed to kill two of their best friends. It wasn’t far-fetched to imagine they might be a little pissed about it if they knew.

She wraps her arms around your shoulders, presses a light kiss to your lips.

“They’ll be here in twenty,” She says, and so you quiet the thought of Chad and Liv in matching Ghostface masks and abandon Tara to get dressed.

Sam’s in the kitchen when they arrive, making Tara a green smoothie.

She doesn’t see the door open, doesn’t hear the hushed whispers as you shuffle them all upstairs to pile into your tiny bedroom.

Chad makes himself at home, lays back against the bed, one of your cushions in hand.

“Brace yourself,” He says as Tara shuts the door, “Mindy made a power-point.”

“I just thought the suspect list might be a little easier to palate in a visual format.” Mindy says, shooting a glare at her twin. She opens her laptop. Tara rolls her eyes.

“Forget about the suspect list,” She tells Mindy, “What’s the plan? It doesn’t matter who he is, we just need to catch him.”

“I still say we trap him,” Liv pipes up.

Tara groans.

“Liv, that’s why we’re here.”

“We could do it at the house,” Mindy suggests, biting her lip.

“And how are we going to do that?” Tara asks, “This house is on lockdown. He’ll never get in, now. Not with Sam parading about like the secret service.”

“We do it at school,” Chad suggests, “Think about it. Ghostface won’t be scared off by Sam and YN’s Dad. And it’s a familiar place - we know it like the back of our hands.”

“Ghostface hasn’t attacked us at school.” You say, chewing your lip.

“Not yet.” Chad stresses, “But maybe he will. If we can draw him out.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Tara asks, voice dry, “Send him a text message? Hey, Ghostface - YN and I will be hanging out by ourselves in the girls locker room if you want to try carve us up like cattle again.”

“We need to make it public knowledge that we’ll be alone,” You say, sitting up, “If we can spread it through the entire school, surely he’ll find out. He’s watching us, remember.”

“Detention.” Chad says, snapping his fingers together, “Principal Garcia’s detention! There’ll be no one there. No one is ever bad enough to get Principal Garcia’s detention.”

Principal Garcia had started a programme just as you’d joined Woodboro High. Regular detention was held after school, as usual. But Principal Garcia’s detention was held Saturday mornings. You’d only ever heard of one student who was naughty enough to get one of the Principal’s detention.

And that person happened to be your girlfriend.

“He doesn’t hand them out willy-nilly,” Tara says, sounding frustrated, “You have to be really bad to get one.”

“You got one,” Mindy says, raising an eyebrow, “Figures you could get one again.”

Tara’s Principal’s detention had been granted at one of your old soccer games. Faye Evans, one of the girls on the opposing team had played it too fast and loose one the field and ended up kicking your shins a little too hard. You’d toppled to the ground in agony.

Faye would have got a red card, if Tara had not got to her first.

You’d sat up, just in time to see Tara bee-lining from her spot on the sidelines. She’d grabbed Faye by the arms and body-slammed her so hard into the ground she drew blood. She’d maybe have done worse had you not pried her off.

Thankfully, Faye’s parents had settled for the detention (and Tara’s permanent ban from watching your soccer games) in lieu of a lawsuit.

“Chad punched someone last year and got suspended,” Tara grumbles, “That isn’t what we need. We need a detention, not a mark on our permanent records.”

“I was defending Liv’s honor,” Chad says, puffing his chest out a little, “Some dude in Chemistry grabbed her ass.”

Liv all but swoons. She ducks down and kisses him.

“My hero.” She murmurs.

Mindy wrinkles her nose.

Tara looks at you, “I was doing the same for you,” She says, sounding aggrieved, “Some girlfriends are grateful, see?”

“You’re not body-slamming anyone again,” You tell her, eyebrows raised, “Besides, you can barely stand up without wincing.”

“Maybe you could cuss out a teacher?” Mindy suggests.

Tara shakes her head.

“I’ve done that too, got a regular detention.” She says.

The teacher in question was Mrs. Cartwright. She’d given you a C+ on your English paper. And Tara had hit the roof.

You stir, not enjoying this trip down memory lane.

Tara looks over at you.

“We could get caught.” She suggests, “Third period - maybe before History class.”

Your cheeks flame red.

“No,” You hiss, “Absolutely not.”

“Baby, we have to do something.” Tara insists, “It has to be bad enough to get a Principal’s detention, not so bad we get suspended-”

“I’m not fucking you in front of Mr Saunders,” You say.

“It wouldn’t be all the way, maybe just some mouth stuff.” Liv says, helpfully.

You glare at her.

“Forget it,” You tell Tara, “Think of something else.”

The group collectively slump back in their seats. It’s quiet a moment, and then Chad sits up.

“I’ve got it!” He says, sounding excited, “We make a big show in class, Tara and I get into an argument - and then she punches me! The only reason I got suspended is because that kid’s Dad got involved. So I just won’t tell mine.”

You furrow your brows.

“You can act like I hit on your girl, or something,” Chad continues, “It’s perfect!”

“And I am I supposed to get detention from this?” You ask.

Chad shrugs, “I don’t know. You punch me too?”

Tara chews her lip.

“It’s a terrible idea,” She says, “But it’s the best we have so far.”

“What’s a terrible idea?” Sam’s in the doorway. You hadn’t heard her come in. She has another platter of vegetables in hand.

The five of you whip around, the guilt on all of your faces evident.

“Chad thinks we should get McDonalds for lunch,” Mindy says, lamely.

Sam stares at her, disbelieving.

“What’s this about punching Chad?” She says, staring at Tara, “And why do you want detention?”

Liv folds like a lawn chair.

“We’re trying to get Tara and YN a principal’s detention.” She says, quickly, “So Ghostface will attack Tara and YN and we’ll be able to catch the guy.”

Mindy groans.

“Liv,” She hisses, “We were fine.”

Sam stares a moment.

“No,” She says, immediately. Tara sits up a little straighter.

“Sam we need a plan,” She argues, “If we can trap the asshole and take off his mask-”

“You have a three inch hole in your stomach,” Sam says, voice shrill, “And if you think I’m trusting these idiots to protect you-”

“Sam,” Tara interjects, voice raised, “I’m not a little kid anymore. I can look after myself.”

“You’re not leaving this house unless I’m with you,” Sam says, sounding final, “And if you think I’m going to let you use yourself as bait for Ghostface-”

“She’s already bait for Ghostface,” You say, cutting in. Sam stares at you, “Look at what just happened. Sam, if we want to stop this guy, we need to know who he is.”

Sam looks at you.

Really looks at you.

You’re right and she knows it. You can tell by the look in her eyes. Hesitant, troubled. Like she’s fighting a losing battle in her own head.

Tara interjects before she can say anything.

“You can be a part of the plan if you want,” She says, “But we’re doing it with or without you.”

“You’re doing it with me,” Sam says, after a long moment, “You’re doing it right. Tell me the plan.”

Chad goes into animated detail. Too much detail.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam cuts Chad off mid-sentence, eyebrows furrowed, “Assault is assault, Chad. Tara will be suspended within the hour.”

“So what do you suggest, Sam?” You ask, a little desperate.

Tara interjects, “I still think we should get caught having-”

“No.” You and Sam say at the same time.

Tara crosses her arms.

“I have an idea,” Sam says, biting her lip, “But I need you to trust me.”

Sam’s idea is ridiculous at best, plain cruel at worst.

But it’s the best idea you have.

Wednesday morning you’re sitting in history class after having half-carried Tara into school, your stomach awash with butterflies. Chad, Liv and Mindy sit around you like body-guards, and despite the ridiculousness of the Ghostface-fighting crew you’ve put together, it does give you a little comfort knowing they’re close.

Mr Saunders is a dreary, five foot seven, forty one year old. He wears bowties to school and torments his classes with facts about history, which he delivers in a droning, tired voice. As if even he is sick of hearing about it.

It’s the Vietnam war today.

You let him begin the class, even listen for a little.

Sorry, you think preemptively.

It’s almost Ironic, how he spends so much time talking about war and is so unaware he’s about to be the next casualty in one.

Right on schedule, as he pauses to take a sip of his coffee, Tara raises her hand.

“Mr Saunders,” She pipes up, “Can YN and I be excused?”

Mr Saunders looks down at her. Long lines draw across his forehead. His shoulders tighten. He doesn’t like being interrupted.

He looks between you and Tara, eyes appraising. The two of you had a certain reputation in school, and you were certain no teacher would let the two of you go off alone. Let alone him.

“Do you need to see the nurse, Ms Carpenter? I’m sure, Mr Meeks-Martin can escort you.” Pointed, as if he sees right through her façade.

Tara shakes her head. Her eyes blaze in that way they do when she’s determined to see something though.

Your stomach flips.

“Not really,” She says, a little blasé, “This lesson is just boring me, a little.”

The class sniggers. Mr Saunders’ expression turns frosty. He stands a little taller, hushes the class with a whack against the white board.

“I’m sorry you don’t find the Vietnam war more entertaining, Ms Carpenter,” He says, voice stern, “But you’ll just have to make do. No, you may not be excused.”

You grip Tara’s hand a little tighter. It’s your turn.

“Why do you have such a stick up your ass all the time, Sir?” You say, voice a little shaky.

Tara rubs her thumb over the back of your hand, comfortingly.

Mr Saunders blinks back at you. It isn’t often you spoke up in his class, if at all. His face flames red with anger.

“Why don’t I tell you in detention?” He says, curling his lip.

He turns his back to you, scribbling madly on the whiteboard, trying to redirect the attention of the class.

Disappointment floods through you.

Detention. A regular detention. It isn’t what you need.

“He’s balding, babe, that’s why,” Tara says, loudly, “He wears a toupee and thinks everyone can’t tell-“

Mr Saunders whirls around.

“Detention,” He hissed again, “Both of you.”

“Mr Saunders doesn’t have a toupee,” Chad says, exactly on time, “There’s no way. Look at that thick head of hair.”

Tara stands.

“Sit down, Ms Carpenter,” Mr Saunders says, voice irate.

You can’t look as it happens.

Mr Saunders, although a little strict, is a perfectly nice teacher. And you were about to humiliate him in front of a sea of piranha-like teenagers.

Liv squeezes your shoulder.

“It’s for a good cause,” She offers in a whisper.

Tara reaches the front of the room. Mr Saunders doesn’t see it coming. He blocks the door, as if that’s where she’s trying to go.

And then in one swift move, she’s launching her arm forward and plucking the toupee straight off his head.

The class gasps, then erupts into a flurry of shock and laughter. You bury your head in your hands.

Tara waves the toupee about as if it’s a trophy for a moment before Mr Saunders snatches it back and tries to jam it - upside down - on his bald head.

“Principal’s office,” He hisses, face contorted, red, like he’s about to explode, “Both of you. Now.”

There’s a lot of yelling.

Mr Saunders wants you both suspended, for being “arrogant, disrespectful little shits.”

You Dad is at work, so it’s Sam who gets called.

Principal Garcia watches the two of you over his glasses with faint distaste. Like he doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this kind of ridiculous nonsense.

“Mr Saunders, I am so sorry for my sister's behavior,” Sam says, wide-eyed when she arrives, as if it weren’t her very idea, “The only explanation I can give you is it’s been a very tough couple of weeks. You know, Tara was attacked by Ghostface just days ago.”

For the first time in the last hour, the Principal softens. He looks down at Tara, appraises her for a moment.

“That’s understandable,” He says. Mr Saunders’ shoulders tighten again, like an angry little wind-up doll, “But it’s no excuse for her behavior-“

“I agree,” Says Sam, nodding softly, “Principal, perhaps one of your special detentions will set her in order. Both of them. Give them time to think about how they behave in school.”

The Principal hums.

And agrees.

Exactly to plan.

Saturday detention can’t come fast enough.

Tara breaks down the plan over and over, as if you’re both in Ocean's Eleven, the detention your diamond heist.

There are cabinets which line the back of the classrooms. Chad and Liv are to sneak into school early, hide back there until the attack happens. Mindy and Sam are to scout the doors, using a nearby utility closet to stay out of sight.

Tara and Sam are both to be armed, and the six of you are going to be wearing military strength bulletproof vests - courtesy of Tara’s mom’s credit card she still hadn’t changed the PIN number to.

Perhaps she might after the near nine hundred dollar bill she had just incurred.

Sam instructs all of you to “aim for the knees, but kill the asshole if you have to.”

And despite all the planning and the manpower, you can’t help but have the sinking suspicion something will go wrong.

“It’ll be okay, baby,” Tara murmurs that morning, scouting out your quiet trepidation with expertise. She presses a kiss to your forehead and takes you in her arms, “I’ll protect you. He won’t touch you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” You murmur, lightly touching her wound with your fingertips. It’s been almost a week but she’s still healing. She winces when she sits down, and still leans on you sometimes when she walks.

You’re terrified that despite the gun and the vest, she’ll collapse to the ground and make herself Ghostface’s pin cushion once again.

She smoothes your hair back, fondly scratches your scalp.

“I’ll be okay,” She assures, “Once the adrenaline takes over.”

She kisses you.

“It’s going to be over, today,” She promises. Her dark eyes are awash with something: that fearlessness that comes so easy to her, “You’re never going to have to be afraid of him again.”

But you are afraid.

Not just of the inevitable attack that would occur, only hours later. You’re afraid once he’s unmasked he’ll talk. He knows, you know he knows. And one single utter of ‘Ghostface” and Tara’s name in the same sentence and the Sheriff would be knocking down your door to take her away.

“We have to kill him, baby,” You murmur. You bury your head in her neck, inhale her scent as if it will give you some comfort, “If he talks-”

“He won’t talk,” Tara says, sounding determined, “I’ll put a bullet through his brain before he gets the chance.”

The mood is somber.

Chad and Liv are en-route to the school, they’d texted ahead.

Mindy is to meet Sam outside the school in all but thirty minutes.

You chew down on some plain toast, trying to quell the tide of nausea rocking waves in your stomach.

“You okay, babe?” Tara asks, rubbing your back, “We need to get dressed in a minute.”

“I have a bad feeling,” You say. Tara leans over, presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“It’s just nerves.” She promises.

“Don’t be nervous,” Sam assures from across the table. She’s loading pellets into her shotgun, “I’m going to be armed with more firepower than the entire nation of Latvia. Motherfucker better hope he’s wearing knee pads, else I’m going to blow his knee caps clean off.”

If anything, that makes you more nervous.

“Don’t fire it close to Tara.” You tell her, chewing your lip.

Sam shoots you a look.

“Do I look like a rookie to you?”

A little, you’d fire back but your thought is interrupted by a sharp, urgent knock at the front door.

Tara tilts her head.

“Who’s that?”

You frown, crane your neck to try and see the figure through the glass. Your parents were at work, and they didn’t often host unexpected guests.

Sam stands, carefully places her shotgun on the countertop as she goes to answer the door.

You follow, curiosity peaked.

And then immediately wish you hadn’t.

It’s the Sheriff, and two other offices, poised at either side of her shoulders.

Her stance is stoic, expression unreadable. Your stomach churns in that uneasy way it always does when she’s around. But something about this is different.

She seems… formal. Far too formal for this to be a house call. You grip Tara’s hand tight between your fingers.

“Sheriff?” Sam asks, a little confused, “What are you doing here?”

But the Sheriff isn’t looking at Sam. Her eyes are honed in on Tara. Like she’s found her mark.

“Tara Carpenter,” She says, voice even, “I need you to come down with me to the station."

“Why?” Sam asks, immediately. Her shoulders tense.

“We have some questions,” Sheriff Hicks says, eyes flickering, “That’s all.”

“So ask them,” Sam says, eyebrows furrowed, “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Sheriff Hicks reaches into her pocket.

She pulls out a piece of paper, and thrusts it towards Sam.

Your stomach sinks. A wave of hot anxiety flushes through you at the sight.

It’s an arrest warrant. With Tara’s name on it.

“You want to bet?” Sheriff Hicks says, voice cold.

You feel your heart start to pound. Tara blinks, staring at the paper a moment. You feel hot, your brain swimming. Your chest is tight, like the walls are closing in.

“I don’t understand,” Sam murmurs, crinkling the paper between her fingertips, “You’re arresting her for what exactly?”

“For murder,” Sheriff Hicks says, “For multiple murders. For the murder of Aaron and Sam Collins, Chase Matthews, Sadie Jones, Amber Freeman-“

Her voice quivers.

“And Wesley Hicks.”

It’s quiet a moment.

Your throat closes. Sam stares, eyes widening.

And then she splutters, “That’s ridiculous-“

Your hand tightens around Tara’s. She hasn’t moved. Her expression hasn’t changed.

Sheriff Hicks narrows her eyes.

“Don’t make me do this the hard way, Tara.” She says, “I can make a scene. I can handcuff you in front of your girlfriend and your sister or you can make it easy and come with me right now.”

Her hands touch the metallic handcuffs dangling off her belt, menacingly.

Panic swells in your chest. You feel as though you might combust. Your throat is tight but you manage to pry through a few strangled words.

“You’ve got it wrong,” You plead, tears pricking behind your eyes, “Tara hasn’t killed anyone.”

A blatant lie.

She’d see it if she looked over at you, saw the falsehood, the desperation swimming in your eyes. But the Sheriff isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at Tara, victorious.

As if she’s got her right in the scope.

Sam stares between them, then snaps into action.

“It’s going to be okay.” Sam says, all big-sister mode. She presses her hands to Tara’s shoulders, “I’m going to call a lawyer, right now. Don’t say anything to them Tara. I’ll follow, right behind, I’ll be in the waiting room the entire time-“

The plan.

It hits you like a jolt of lightning. The trap you’d perfected. The painstaking hours that had gone into planning it. The quick knock on the door that had sent it all out the window.

You’d had him.

Ghostface would have been yours. You’d have him unmasked, in the handcuffs the Sheriff had intended for Tara.

You think, quickly. And then close your eyes. Muster the strength it takes to get the words out.

“No,” You says, quietly. Tara and Sam both look over at you, “We had plans today, Sam.”

Sam looks at you as if you’re crazy.

There are police in your yard, swarming the lawn, sirens blaring. There’s a dozen of them, as if the Sheriff needed backup. As if, your tiny, injured, 5”1 girlfriend would put up so much fight twelve police officers would have to hold her down.

You blink back tears, hold the lump in your throat.

And you know exactly what you need to do.

“My Dad will be with her,” You continue, “I’ll call him now. He’ll call the lawyer, drive her home when they let her go. Inevitably.”

You shoot a look at the Sheriff.

“But Sam, it’s the only way.”

“No,” Tara says, voice flat, “No. Sam, tell her no.”

“It’s the only way,” You say, breathless. You blink back the tears, “We need to give them something.”

The Sheriff is watching, eyes peeled. Eyes narrowed, like she’s trying to make out your not-so-secret code.

You swallow. Taper down your emotions for a moment. Determination surges through you.

Lawyers, police, The Sheriff. Nothing could fix this but doing one thing.

Giving the police Ghostface. On a silver platter.

Sam’s quiet.

But Tara kicks up a fuss.

“Baby,” She urges, trying to pry your attention, to her “Baby, look at me. Say you won’t. Promise me you won’t.”

You swallow.

Brush her hair out of her face. Her eyes are wide, desperate. Huge brown orbs, pleading. It’s so strange to see her powerless. It’s unnatural.

You kiss her, softly.

“I’m going to protect you,” You promise against her lips, voice but a whisper, “The way you protect me.”

“That’s enough.” The Sheriff says, voice stern, “Tara. Easy way or the hard way? Your choice.”

Tara swallows.

“Sam,” She says, voice urgent, “Promise me you won’t let her. Promise me.”

Sam blinks a moment, her face blank.

And then she nods, presses a long kiss to Tara’s forehead.

“I promise,” She says, voice soft, “Go with the Sheriff. YN and I will be right behind you.”

Your heart sinks. Relief floods through Tara’s face.

“Now, Tara,” The Sheriff says, voice stern. Tara steps forward. Shoots a final look at you.

“I love you,” She murmurs.

And then you watch, tears in your eyes, as she’s hauled off in the back of a squad car. She limps to the car, looking so small amongst the sea of police officers. Helpless.

It makes you ache.

You turn to Sam when they’re out of sight, eyes shimmering with brand new determination.

“Sam- I know you’re in shock, but it’s the only way-”

“You don’t have to sell me a pitch, YN,” Sam says, voice low. The unshed tears in her eyes mirror yours, “We’re going to the school and we’re catching Ghostface.”

You blink.

Sam looks at you.

“You’re right,” She says, lip quivering, “It’s the only way to save her.”

#all hers #ghostface!tara #fanfic #mine #jenna ortega #scream #scream vi #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x yn #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x yn #tara carpenter x you #wednesday

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