#uhm yeah that's kinda the best i could manage

[irritablepoe]

Syrup Nightmares

**************************************

close your ever-watching eyes,

perceiving only lonely darkness

like radio silence behind shut lids.

to you, sleep tells dirty lies and lies beyond

what you could ever caress

with nothing but violence

filling your tired mind

and calloused hands.

between your roughened fingers

spider webs form

and cling to what’s to be held

closer than hats in a storm.

and beyond the web loss lingers,

desperate to catch your syrup dreams

sweet from exhaustion,

but permeated with distortion.

you’ll not find the door to your dreams unlocked.

but once you’ll split it with the axe of a devil

he‘ll have a night of terrors

correcting your foolish errors.

nightmares are worse when awake

and at last only the spider's embrace

can put you to sleep with candy poison.

**************************************

[satoruhour]

Just thought of something FREAKY in class… Single father Satoru looking for a babysitter and you’re looking for a side income during semester break and the tension goes crazy!!!! “We should’t be doing this my son will wake up” I’M GONNA SCREAMMMM

BLISS, PURE BLISS

a/n: happy new year LMFAOOO. thank you for all the asks btw i promise ill answer them asap 🥹 / @shotorus @osaemu @shidouryusm @mysugu @hyomagiri ♱

wc: 6.4k

warnings: ‘onee-san’ used but more of just addressing reader as an older figure because saying babysitter is kinda weird lol (kind of like how chinese people use 姐姐 even if they are not related), fem!reader, dilf!gojo, age gap (gojo in his late 30s, reader in mid-20s), angst if u squint, bit of slow burn n tension, making out, use of ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, praise, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, p -> v sex, multiple rounds, consensual filming, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“no fucking way . .” you mumble mostly to yourself, standing in front of the largest house of the gated community in roppongi, and while you knew the people here were excessively and obnoxiously rich, you’re never quite prepared until you’re getting a key card specifically mailed to your name just so you could enter.

you’re not even shameful when you take a video to send to your best friends, locking your screen almost immediately because you knew you’d never get to the job on time if you replied to them. with calculated steps, you’re walking up the house that’s designed with a modern structure, yet still retaining characteristics of a traditional japanese home. it’s less prominent at the front of the house, though.

“(y/n)-san, was it?” a voice startles you out of your ogling sessions. if the garden was already this nice, what would be in store for you when you went in? you’ll be finding out soon when your employer himself opens the door to you, a man with striking white hair and equally striking blue eyes that seem to look right into you. he’s dressed in a suit, probably no doubt ready to get to work while you’re out here taking your time. you cringe, immediately walking up to the door.

“y-yes! yes, i’m sorry sir, i was just uhm—”

he holds that intimidating stare just for a moment but then he breaks into a smile that mirrors the bright sun that shines down on the porch.

“it’s alright . . it’s not everyday you’re working at some rich guy’s house, right?” he jokes but that strikes a little ick into you — he’s already ticking the boxes of obnoxious and excessively rich, but you hate the effect he’s having on you.

“yeah . . no, i guess,” he hums in reply before sticking a hand out.

“gojo satoru,” he introduces himself, “call me anything but that sir shit, alright, doll?”

you nod obediently, trying not to let the little pet name get to your head because he probably does this to any babysitter who comes through the house, but either way, he’s welcoming you in and it’s like you step into a world unreal. it’s spotless, the floors shining under the sunlight, a large television in the living room, a spacious open concept dining-kitchen area, and this is just the first floor.

gojo takes his time to show you the house — where his kid’s toys were, where the food was, where the bathrooms and bedrooms were, it was never-ending. every step you took made you feel like you were walking the length of the nile, each turn only revealing more rooms and corridors.

and then, finally, his baby boy.

“he’s a cheeky one, takes after his dad,” even with all the cockiness he’s shown to you, you can tell he has a soft spot for his kid. the boy stirs from his father’s voice, gleaming in happiness as he puts out his smaller hands to be picked up. as he settles into his arms, it’s just sinking in how tall your employer is. he makes a toddler look like a baby with how small his son looks wrapped snugly.

“satoshi, hi,” he whispers, bouncing the kid in his arms, “want to say hi to your onee-san?”

you manage a small wave but all he does is turn to hide in his father’s arms, definitely scared from a random stranger suddenly talking to him.

“she’s going to be taking care of you for the next month or so, you know?” he mumbles, brushing a hand through the matching white hair, “be nice to the babysitter, okay?”

all satoshi does is hum into his dad’s neck before he’s giving you a sheepish smile. “he’s like that, don’t worry about him.” and you return the smile, thinking that he wasn’t that obnoxious that you thought and that maybe he’s really a dad trying his hardest for his one kid. you realise he’s taking too much time, though, and so you sought out to remind him.

“oh, uh sir— gojo-san, don’t you have to go to work?”

although he’s mentioned satoshi to be taking after him, the boy goes right back to sleeping when he’s put back into his bed so you follow gojo as he adjusts his cuffs and smoothes out his collar just outside the room and you make the mistake of glancing upon the mirror on the far end of the corridor — it was undeniable that you looked like a high-end couple who’s newly married and raising a kid. you try to shake off the thoughts of adjusting his tie for him.

“it’s not being late if you’re on top.” he smirks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes; at least you weren’t alone in purging the delusional thoughts from your head, he was basically helping you at this point and you struggle between characterising him as conceited and admirable. “but, yeah, i should get going.”

but he stands at the door with backpack slung onto one shoulder while he continues to explain satoshi’s routines to you, his habits and also had to sneak in a few cute photos of the kid while squealing repeatedly and you’re left wondering how this guy could be the CEO of a company.

it’s been like that for as long as you can remember — bidding goodbye to your parents as you tell them that you’re off to your part-time job over the winter break. they’re happy you’re even leaving the house, shoving your lunch into your hands with big smiles that you’re at least doing anything other than sitting in your room. the train ride to the gated residential was nice, too, apart from the very crowded subways for people going to work in roppongi.

gojo greets you every morning when you arrive, reminding you of satoshi’s feeding times and his favourite shows and everything a father should know but don’t have the luxury to experience with aforementioned kid. it’s a little bittersweet, every time you see him kiss satoshi goodbye that turns into remaining in his room, to holding your hand and saying goodbye to daddy from the second floor, to getting carried by you at the front door.

it’s slow but sure progress day after day, from watching his cartoons, feeding him at the kitchen island, playing with his toys, that satoshi feels more and more comfortable with you, learning that while he was a well-behaved boy, he definitely had hints of your employer in him. mannerisms, words, voice, you wonder whether he even got any part of his mother in his genes.

you’d never ask, though, but it was told. unexpectedly.

“i’m home—” the last parts of his word die down into a whisper when he opens the door to see satoshi cuddled up to you, the last bits of home alone playing softly. by now you already know what happens in the movie so you’re texting your friends and laughing softly to yourself, jumping when your boss steps past the doorway. gojo winces when he checks his watch (“fuck. it’s already ten.”), toeing his shoes off and apologising simultaneously.

“oh— man, i’m so sorry, i had a late meeting with the CEO of our neighbouring franchise, i totally forgot about the time—” gojo’s quick to make his way down to the small pit of the house (he likes to call it the conversation pit), settling down on the side where satoshi had his head in your lap as his eyes linger on the movie. instinctively, his hands reach to pat his leg.

“oh, it’s okay, gojo-san, it’s the holidays anyway.”

“yeah?” he turns to you, one arm propped on the back of the sofa, “and why don’t a pretty girl like you have any plans?”

that catches you off-guard, among the many other times he’s called you pretty or sweets like no care in the world. you’re never quite used to it, too, seeking to fluster you. “you shouldn’t say stuff like that to me, gojo-san . .”

“why not?” he’s turned back to the television, now, and you take his place, staring at his side profile as the scenes of the movie move along his face. “i’m a single dad, aren’t i?”

“yeah but . . you could have anyone.”

“what if,” he turns and you chicken out, head snapping back to the front while he watches you and the both of you cannot deny the tiring dance you perform around each other all the time. the clench in his heart when he sees you carry his baby boy at the porch and the small smile he gives you every morning before he leaves for his job. he doesn’t want to go through with it and sighs.

it’s become hard to breathe around you. it’s become hard to hold himself back around you.

“i worked too much.” he suddenly says, facing the TV again. “i was too engrossed and . .”

confusion seeps in at first. yeah, it was no secret he worked his ass off despite being at the very top. your gaze falls to satoshi, curling more into your side like he’s cold and you adjust the blanket. you nod in recognition.

“we fought a lot. i tried— i tried to alter my schedule as much as i could, driving to and fro whenever she needed me, bringing satoshi to work as a baby when we couldn’t come to a compromise, but it was a lot. for her, for satoshi. he could sense whenever we were about to fight, on edge voices, items clattering to the floor . .”

by now, he’s leaned back, back of his hand resting on his forehead, “and he’d cry like he was interrupting us. cheeky, i told you,” and his eyes close, “we hardly reached middle ground. it was either this or that, hire a nanny or we take care of him, my endless job or the joy of life. i’m ashamed that i’ve prioritised my job more, and still do it now.”

“if you didn’t, i wouldn’t be here, would i?”

that draws a chuckle out of him, “correct.”

“she couldn’t take it, not when she was a businesswoman on top of that. she was out doing herself at every aspect in her job, going to greater heights, and while she accused me of putting work first, she isn’t entirely innocent, either. but that’s . .”

“you don’t have to say anything, gojo-san,” you mumble as you watch the reunion of the characters in the movie before the screen cuts the black, no doubt affecting him in some way at the warmth displayed by the movie that contrasts heavily with his situation, “the fact that you even told me is . .”

the heavy atmosphere is disrupted by satoshi gasping, “papa! you’re home.”

you exchange awkward smiles as you watch the boy fight his way out of the blanket to hug gojo, the latter huffing when the boy drops his body weight on him and you take it as a sign to give them a bit of privacy, standing up to clean up the popcorn and cups. laughter and your employer’s voice resonate throughout the place even as they go up the stairs, a rare occasion where gojo is able to get his son ready for bed.

it’s only maybe an hour later when the house falls into silence. mouth burning from the mouthwash, the heater in satoshi’s room turned to a high setting, one bedtime story was read (which, he fell asleep halfway), the boy was out like a light. you felt it inappropriate to leave without at least saying goodbye, but you also didn’t want to cut into their time together; at least, that’s what you told yourself.

so you waited with your things on the kitchen island, getting a risky text just as gojo comes down, still in his suit from work.

[11:02pm, nobara -> you] BITCH GET THAT DICKKKKK!!!!!!! 

and you yelp softly, slamming your phone down onto his marble counter. thankfully, he doesn’t notice, eyes close to shutting from fatigue. 

“oh, shit, you’re still here?”

“i thought it would be, weird, if i didn’t say goodbye,” you get ready to leave, slinging your tote bag on, “but i also didn’t want to intrude on your time with satoshi, limited as it is.” well, you did also wish something would happen, but you had too much pride to admit it to yourself.

“you got a ride home?” he yawns and you feel guilty for extending your stay already. you didn’t even need to worry about the front door, he lived in a gated community for christ’s sake!

“um, not really, but i can always book an uber home.”

“i’ll drive you home, it’s unsafe,” is all he says like he’s trying to convince himself, “let me just get changed and we can go.”

gojo doesn’t leave you any room to protest before he’s up the stairs again and you’re left with a pounding heart and dizzy head, not sure what might ensue. you know him to be honourable; you’ve seen him with his child, you’ve seen him interact with his neighbours, but a late ride with your boss sounds sketchy as it is.

but it doesn’t feel like it when you feel the tokyo wind blowing through your hair, a slight gap in the window bringing you the chills of the night as he silently drives you back home. sitting in your employer’s car most of all felt weird, but even more so when he’s reaching your home faster than the gps system had predicted. his knuckles are white.

“you—”

your head snaps to him, “yes?”

his car headlights are the brightest in the parking lot where every car is silent, quiet, much like his clammy hands and red cheeks. gojo satoru turns to you, feeling that familiar tug in his heart and lump in his throat for the first time in a while, and he can’t speak.

but you lean forward like your life depends on it and you leap inwardly when you see that he does the same. eyes trained forward, your stares boring into the other, waiting to see who’d close their eyes first. you just stop short of an inch, met with the hypnotising swirls of raging oceans in gojo’s eyes and you swallow when his eyes flit down to your lips and back up like he wouldn’t get caught.

with shaking hands, your fingers trace over his lips and you sigh when you feel just how soft they are, just like his skin, just like his eyes when they look at satoshi. your heart skips a beat when he just lightly kisses the pads of your fingers, and that encourages you to cradle his cheek, up his jaw, up his undercut.

“let’s just kiss, yeah?” he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he’d shatter the glass, snap the string of tension, voice cracking until you swallow it, you stomach his nervousness with a lively, strong kiss from your lips to his, and he just melts.

gojo hums into the kiss, leaning forward over the stick shift and into the passenger seat before you counter it with your own movements: hand on his shoulders and pushing until you’re on his space of the driver’s seat and playing the game of tug that’s been going on for the past few weeks. you win.

“god, you’re so . .” gojo whines out when you climb onto him, whispering into your mouth while you get comfortable in your straddling position, cutting him off with a second, rougher kiss and you both moan softly, passion taking over in the evident way your arms scramble to wrap around him while he pulls you flush against his front.

the car is filled with sounds of your kissing, something that definitely shouldn’t be done in his home and yet you risk it all in your home’s parking lot. you break the kiss and hide in his neck, already starting the makings of a hickey there while your pelvis selfishly grinds into his front and he kneads your ass. in the mingling of breaths and moans, he’s left to stop the two of you when there’s a muffled ringtone coming from your bag and you swallow at the insanity of the situation.

“i’ll see you, monday, right?” gojo breathlessly says later, bulge still showing through his sweats while you hang outside the driver’s side, not wanting to leave. he takes your hand, planting a peck on it and then brings you in for another harmless kiss.

“yeah, gojo-san . . monday.”

you lose count of how many times you’ve swallowed throughout the night, but he says something to lift the mood just a bit.

“we just made out and you’re still calling me by my last name?”

you laugh lightly, “monday, satoru. i’ll be there, same time, on monday.”

gojo leaves a farewell kiss to the inside of your wrist, “attagirl.”

 but if you’re not careful, it might just happen in satoru’s house.

the remainder of your employment at his house is tiring. it’s so hard not to kiss him before he leaves for work, so difficult not to long for him while you take care of satoshi, so entirely harrowing not to claim him as yours as you watch him play after his work. at this point, you’re hoping school will just start soon and the rush of assignments and readings will take your mind off of it, but you cannot deny the excitement every time you leave your house.

“you’ll bring food and cook every monday, wednesday, friday, and i’ll order food for the both of you every tuesday and thursday, how’s that?” gojo thinks it’s time to introduce him to larger pieces of food, but it’s gone past that by now and to your meal arrangements.

“i’m okay with cooking, though!” you assure him, and plus, you loved your parents’ home cooked bentos that they give you everyday, “do we gotta?”

“sorting out meals is tiring, (y/n),” gojo takes the place beside you, leaning against the counter just like you before drinking out of his cup, “i want to at least help at little.”

“you already are.” you smile, “i can see you making the effort.”

“it’s not enough, though, i could be doing better.”

gojo hates how this scene sets up — like two parents just figuring out the best for their kid — it’s a callback to the memory in the same exact kitchen. at least all you do is kiss and make out, because he wouldn’t know what to do if you moan out his name in that same intimate way that threatens his walls to come down again. he loved sex, he loved the bedroom, but he’s riding a thin line the way he’s doing with you.

“you are,” is everything that you say, and you leap forward to kiss him. you do it so hard that he has to put down the glass to fully embrace you, walking you backwards to the conversation pit and he carries you so effortlessly because he doesn’t want you walking backwards down some stairs.

he hates how you bring him into your lips, he hates how gently he lays you down, and he hates how you accept the kisses down your neck and body. you, on the other hand, aren’t doing so well, either — it’s either a hit or miss with a broken man like gojo satoru, and you’re stepping on glass shards hoping you don’t say anything wrong with him because he’s trying his best but he just can’t see it.

“are you okay with this?” he asks halfway down your torso and he gets lightheaded from how well his hands cover your waist. “tell me to stop, and i’ll stop.”

“n-no . . keep going, satoru.”

he exhales shakily at that, fingers tugging your top up and his hands are so cold you resist shivering, but you do anyway from the sheer fucking craziness that gojo drives you into. one pop of your button, and you’re already lifting your hips off the couch for him to remove your pants but movement on the stairs make you halt.

“papa?” satoshi calls out sleepily, rubbing his eyes and pouting. you can see it, almost, with how much time you’ve spent with the kid, and you hope he can’t see you. “i . . i had a nightmare and i just— i wanna sleep with you.”

he’s started sniffling and you feel your heart break that he knows his papa well enough to know he would never sleep in his room. his job always has him sleeping out in the living room.

go. you mouth, kissing your fingers and pressing it to his lips before he puts on a show — yawning, stretching his arms, already making satoshi feel at ease with his theatrics before he’s stopping at the foot of the stairs to look back at you. you already know gojo satoru has redeemed himself a hundred times over. i’ll see you tomorrow. 

funnily, satoshi somehow does have some intervention powers, because each time the both of you attempt to go down on each other, he’s either saying he threw up, or he needs to use the toilet, or that he’s hungry. while you both love him to death, it’s also becoming difficult to hold back each time you see each other. his car in your parking lot is all he has and you dare not to go to his workplace where rumours would spark.

so after a tiring night of getting a hyper satoshi to sleep, you’d at least try. at this point, you know not to expect too much out of it, starting always with some talking. it was easy to talk to your boss, and when you phrase it like that, it did come off a little strange, but it was far from that when your boss in his late 30s looked just like he did ten years ago and that he had crazy blue eyes and insane white hair and was hot.

“thank you for taking care of him for the past month and a half,” gojo thanked you, leaning over to give you a peck to the temple, “it means a lot.”

“he’s a sweet boy, plus, i do need the money,” you giggle, nudging him, “and it did let me get to know you . .”

“certainly,” he mumbles. drunk off your scent, he leans in again, kissing you fully on the lips now. you hum softly, going on your tippy toes and wrapping your arms around his shoulder. swiftly, he props you on the kitchen counter and you yelp in surprise, unable to help the throb of your pussy when he slots himself in between your legs.

jokingly, he puts his hand to his ear. “no satoshi interruption tonight?”

you smack his shoulder, “don’t jinx it.”

he laughs, a proper laugh before he sighs shakily, fingers thumbing your sides gently. “you know . . we shouldn’t be doing this,” you feel your heart sink a little, but he quells it with hovering lips over yours, “he could hear and wake up.”

“then why have you been accepting all my kisses, gojo satoru?” your eyes challenge him, but you know one touch from him would have you submitting to him. his breath fans over your lips, and you can feel his pulse speed up when your fingers go over his neck, to his nape, to his undercut. you run your fingertips through it.

“you have too much power over me, simple.” that sentence has your eyes fluttering close. it’s too much for you and yet you welcome it with open arms, “it’s become so bad that you’re all i think about.”

“is that so?” you pull lightly on his hair.

he nods, foreheads touching now and he’s trying to hold himself back, but, “i’ve been holding back, entirely too much, baby, and i don’t think i can, anymore.”

“yeah?” you whisper, bringing him in with your legs, “show me, then.”

gojo satoru decides that maybe taking the leap isn’t so bad, so he fully gives himself to you, tugging your lips to his in a clashing kiss that has you groaning in pain just a bit. he giggles and apologises and tries again, and this time, it’s got your hips moving against him, whimpering into his mouth. gojo’s hard just from kissing, something that he’s desperate to relieve himself off so — he’s whispering for you to hang on while he slots his hands under your ass and lifts you.

satoru knows his house well, walking up with you in tow and lips still on yours, right into his room. you giggle when he plops you down and he’s already looking forward to ravishing you, but —

“let me check on satoshi for a sec.”

you laugh silently, “of course, satoru, go.”

and once your boss’ made sure his son is out cold in slumber, he’s all over you again and definitely showing you how much he’s been holding himself back. you’re the pure focus of the night, making you chase for more when he pulls away and kissing down your body. he worships it, tongue circling a nipple while his hand plays with the other, eyes staring holes into yours from how intense the blue was.

“s-satoru . .”

“yes, sweets, what is it?”

“feels good—” you whine, back arching into his hold once he leaves your tits and continues down your body. each kiss is like hellfire against your cold skin, and he pops a button and listens out again, both of you sighing in relief and giggling to each other when you don’t hear a knock on the door.

“does it? good.” it’s tantalisingly slow, the pace at which gojo peels your clothes off, but when your pants are finally off, he marvels at your beauty as he brings your legs apart. you’re shy, hiding yourself behind your arms and resisting his hands.

“aht, no, c’mon, show yourself, baby.” he only moans when he sees the dark patch at the centre of your underwear, pressing a finger into your clit and you’re ashamed at how intensely you react to it. gojo continues his torture, thumbing your bud just to watch your face contort into pleasure, “so, so pretty.”

you preen at the praise, even more so when he pulls your panties to the side and sucks slowly on your clit. it’s slow, again, and you’re clutching the sheets so tight when he lays his tongue flat against your pussy. satoru takes his time, savouring each bit of your cunt to make up for lost time, filling the room with the lewdest noises of your sopping cunt on his tongue.

“taste so fuckin’ sweet, pussy’s s’good,” he practically moans into your core, arms wrapping around your thighs to bring you closer while you try to keep your noises down to a minimum. little pants and mewls leave your lips, eyes never leaving the head of hair.

but he’s unpredictable, as gojo always is, so when he’s hovering over you just to give you a little innocent kiss, you think nothing of it, until he’s back in front of your pussy and starts eating you out like a starved man. you let out a loud moan, dragging it out until you’re gulping down your next sounds. it doesn’t help much, though, cause gojo’s slurping at your pussy like it’s the end of the world.

“s-satoru—! too much—” you moan but your hips grind into his mouth, your hands now finding purchase in his hair, “t-too loud.”

“mmf— don’t care,” he mumbles into your cunt, making sure he gets every drop of your arousal on his tongue while he abuses your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking hard and you think it’s the best head you’ve ever gotten.

“not when your cunt’s so perfect,” you only press his head deeper into you like it would stop his muffled sentences, but that only spurs him to suck harder before he just shifts down a little to plunge his tongue into your hole. you choke out a moan as his nose nudges your clit, clenching around his muscle.

“relax— mmhh, you gotta relax, baby,” he’s massaging your thighs but if anything it does the exact opposite, closing your thighs around his head in sensitivity.

“it’s— h-hard to,” you moan out, already feeling the coil in your tummy that’s approaching oh, so quickly when gojo eats you out like this. he shifts his attention back to your puffy clit, eyes flicking up to make contact with yours and you shrivel under his intense stare, “w-when you’re making me feel s’good—!”

you feel him smile into your cunt but he says nothing, taking note of the drop of your jaw, the scrunch of your eyes, the contractions of your stomach. your legs like to straighten out and shake when you’re close, he memorises. when you start to tighten your grip on his hair, he ingrains it in his mind.

“cumming— i’m c-close,” but it’s like satoru doesn’t even need it when his eyes digest the way he sends you over the edge with just his tongue.

“g— god! satoru!” your mouth falls into a silent scream after, head dipping so much into the pillow while you grind your cunt into his face, gushing all over his face with a renewed spirit and regret for all those times that men have rubbed your left lip thinking it was your clit.

“let it go, yeess . . that’s it,” satoru doesn’t hesitate to get sloppy, sucking up all your cum, gasping for air once he’s done with his meal, “pretty girl just came all over my face.”

you struggle to your elbows despite the words he utters, propped up just to catch a glimpse of him and the soaked bottom of his face that stretches into a smile.

“was that better than all the uni boys who’ve never felt the touch of a woman?” you laugh at that, making quick work of grabbing his chin and bringing him back to your lips.

“much, much better.” and you take the opportunity to flip the tables, trembling, shaking legs trying their best to wrap around his torso to straddle him —  but once you’re over, you’re not quite sure what to do apart from letting your hands roam all over the expanse of his shoulders and chest.

“and can she do it again all over my cock?” the obscene words sound almost taboo falling from his mouth that your mouth drops open in initial shock, but it subsides into anticipation soon enough.

wordlessly, you take matters into your own hands, fingers making quick work of his trousers while he removes his top impatiently. the scowl on your face is prominent when you struggle to work his belt out and he chuckles with helping hands, the burn on your face deepening.

“there,” gojo giggles and he pulls you in with a peck-filled apology, “don’t worry, we have all the time in the world.”

you hum, “not when your son could knock any time soon.”

that prompts a giggle that fades off into a loud moan once your warm hand wraps around him, something that he’d never tell you how many times he’s fantasised about. slowly, you stroke his cock, excruciatingly slow just like how he’s done to your cunt earlier.

you’re hovering over him, now, dragging his tip along your pussy and whining softly at the pre-cum that mixes together with your juices. you need him into you as soon as possible, and apart from your soon burning thighs, you’ve been wanting this for as long as you’ve stepped foot into his house from the very first day.

inch by inch, you sink down onto gojo’s weeping cock, getting the luxury of feeling his sensitive twitches with the plunge into your cunt. you’re glad at least he had offered to stretch you out just a tad bit earlier, the intrusion of his fingers already having you panting for his dick; and now, when you have the real thing, it drives your mind insane.

“’t-toru— haah . .” your body curls up from the painful stretch, lips muttering the nickname unknowingly as you grasp onto his shoulders for support, and while he helps you on, he never stops saying the most filthy things, grinning each time you clench around him.

“never thought i’d be here, fuckin’ the babysitter, but here we are,” your oh my god is whispered only for the other to hear, body burning up from the words before he grinds his pelvis into yours and you slump forward in pleasure. your words are a bunch of nothingness, a string of incoherence, “and her pussy’s just so fucking— tight!”

giving you one or two breaths of rest, satoru coos in your face, cradling it and littering kisses all over it before he’s moving his hips and you’re breaking the kiss to whine out, moving your hips to meet his as well. you move sooner or later, bouncing on his cock once you’re more used to him in you and the position only hits all your spots just right.

“f-fuck— you’re so big—!” you roll your hips into him, eyes stuck on how there’s just a small bump in your tummy each time you bottom out. your boss from across you is equally ruined, eyes struggling to keep open with wet hair stuck to his forehead. “feel so so g-good . .”

“yeah?” he breathlessly mumbles, hand squeezing and kneading your ass and trying to help you, but the warmth of your cunt around his length just feels too good. “bounce on that dick, baby.”

and you do, planting your feet into the bed and fingers creating bruises along his shoulders as you impale yourself on his fat cock, switching to relaxing in his embrace and letting your hips do the work when your legs start hurting. there, you indulge in gojo’s lips as you hump him, the delicious friction of your clit against his pubes sending you reeling.

“you’re going to be soaking my sheets from how much you’re leaking,” gojo jests, letting your moans take over his mind while his lips trace down your neck, eyes just peeking over to see your ass ripple from the force. “not that i mind. how’s she doin’?”

“she’s getting,” a choked whine interrupts you, “a little tired.”

and that draws a laugh out of gojo who does nothing but tease you, something he likes to do even in makeout sessions, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach over to his bedsie table to grab his phone, leaning back to bask in your glory. here, your body just looks heavenly as you try your best to move on his lap.

“hang on a little more for me, princess,” with one hand, his larger hand leave chills all over your body and the other points his phone at you, not before making sure you were okay with it, “and smile for the camera.”

you try your best even when his hand make his way to your mouth, pulling it open with his fingers to slot it in. you’re sure you look like a whore right now, but the camera pointed your way only turn you on more, like it’s beckoning you to put on a show. and you loved the attention, so you close your lips around his fingers and start sucking, grinding even harsher on his cock that has gojo stuttering.

“y—yeah, attagirl . .” he grins at the video he takes, “show the camera how much of a cockslut you are.”

you whine, bringing the hand to your clit while you shove two hands onto his torso to really work your thighs out, feeling that familiar curl in your stomach once he starts rubbing his saliva-filed fingers along you bundle of nerves. 

“r-right there, satoru—!” you swear under your breath, giving hooded eyes to the camera while you chase your high drunkenly, all sort of coherent thought banished from your head. “love your cock, love it, love it—!”

satoru swears he wants to cum from just watching you use him, and even holding himself back is proving difficult when you clamp and tighten around him until his fingers press particularly deep into your clit and you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name, body convulsing all over the video.

“tha’s a good girl . . cream my cock, yeeaaahh . .” gojo watches, hypnotised, as you lose control over your body, but the pleasure-filled whimper that you merge his name with is just too good, that he spills unexpectedly in you. the video is far from stable, so he only slaps the phone down to relish in his orgasm. gojo pushes his hips up and you gasp at the feeling, back arching when you feel his cum seep into you.

you’ve never even given much thought to pregnancy, but the feeling of his cum dribbling into you fogs your mind that you only want more after a mental note to buy the morning after pill tomorrow.

“n-need more,” you beg, fondling at his cheeks and undercut, “w-want more cum in me, satoru . .”

and it’s like a flip switches in him, because he’s flipping you over right after — he has to see his cum leave your pussy first though, taking the still ongoing video and putting it right up to your pussy, using his tip to smear your mixed juices all around.

“who knew i’d hired such a dirty girl?” he addresses the camera more than you, but he catches your flustered glance with a wink and after poorly setting up the camera on his bedside table (he just was too intoxicated on your cunt), he’s pushing back into you with a loud groan, not even caring for the consequences any more. his cum is just so much, too, spilling out the sides.

“only f’r you,” you mumble, grabbing at his forearms needily. your eyes flutter close as he bottoms out, your legs pushed right up to your chest as he folds you whichever way he wants to. at this point, if he wanted to own you, you wouldn’t object one bit, not when gojo satoru’s cock stretches your pretty pussy so nicely. “a cumslut only for you.”

“yeah?” he starts moving his hips and your arch into his hold, “i wonder how i got so — fuck — lucky.” everything is sloppy and wet and disgusting and you love every moment of it, even after he’s cummed in you the second, third, fourth time, you’re happy to be pumped full of his cum, giving him a tired, glistening grin that he returns.

“think i should be transferring over my life savings for a cunt this sweet,” you giggle at the compliment, but don’t protest when he’s pulling up the app to gift you with a hefty amount; both your salary and bonus, all from making gojo satoru fall helplessly just from your touch — something to brag about indeed.

[chuuyasheaven]

“ How about I give you the tip? ” ;)

You ringed the bell and waited, with a pizza in your hand as you sigh. You didn’t get payed enough for this, but this was the best you could do at the moment. While you were rethinking your life choices, the door opened. A really handsome guy stood at the door, looking at the pizza then you and then down on the pizza again. You weren’t gonna lie, that guy was so pretty you kinda just stared at him.

“Uhm, here’s your pizza, sir.”, you asked the guy who was lightly smiling at you. “You’re really pretty for a pizza delivery,”, this just came out of nowhere but you appreciated it.

“Yeah, thanks. That would make seven dollars.”, you looked at him and gave a small smile. He was thinking about something and then spoke up. “It’s pretty late, how many do you have left?”, you just sighed and just straight up told him. “No, you’re my last.”

He smirked, thinking of something which kinda annoyed you. Couldn’t he just give you number and pay after? “You must be tired of delivering all day, you definitely deserve more than seven dollars.”, you were flattered that he was more considerate than your manager, then he continued to speak.

“How about I give you the tip? You can come inside and place the pizza somewhere.”

Well, turns out he wasn’t talking about the tip but rather about his tip, the tip being inside your hole. But were you complaining? “Feels good, right?”, seems like a tip is still a tip in the end of the day! A sudden spank was landed on your ass which whipped you back to reality. “I was askin’ you, pretty. Is the tip good?”, he asked again rather sheepishly. “Y–yes! Oh, shit—”, you moaned in response.

He was speeding up, saying nasty things to you while absolutely destroying you and your hole. “Delivering pizzas ain’t the only job you’re doing good at, is it? Taking me this good— fuck. .”, your head was in the pillow and your ass in the air, perfect position for some random dude you were supposed to be delivering to. “Such a slut, spreadin’ your legs so fast for a tip.”, your customer laughed. “Y–you were the— ngh— i–it was your idea to— ah!”, he thrusted really deep, interrupting you completely. “And who said you that you couldn’t deny this? So don’t try to blame me, baby.”, ‘baby’? You barely know this guy! But still, he has you moaning and clenching like someone he’s fucked multiple times before.

With the source of sound being your moans you weren’t really able to warn him about your upcoming orgasm. “Yeah, wanna cum? Wanna coat this tip in a pretty white? Hm? Shit—”, you cumming without any warning caused him to cum too, ropes of white cum being shot inside you. Breathing heavily, especially you since you needed to process what just happened, he giggled drunkenly.

“Wanna get the real tip now, pretty?”

DAZAI, NIKOLAI, Chuuya, Ur faves, etc.

Something silly from my mind lol

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

-

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit. 

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it. 

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her. 

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

-

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.  

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too. 

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

-

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching. 

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night. 

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous. 

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day. 

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt. 

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real. 

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force. 

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. 

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up. 

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground. 

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

-

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

-

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope. 

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm. 

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.” 

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought. 

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply. 

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change. 

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

[only-luce-the-goose]

Taller

A/N: lowkey in love with Mr Bearman rn

Ollie Bearman x reader

Synopsis: non-sexual size kink with Ollie Bearman

Warnings: size kink, fluff

Ollie Bearman stands at just over 6ft, and while he’s not the tallest person in the world, he is definitely one of the tallest you’ve met. When you first met him, you were doing work experience as a journalist for Sky Sports. You had been tasked with interviewing some of the reserve drivers, Ollie being your top priority.

Obviously, you knew who he was before you met him, what you didn’t know is that he knew who you were too. He noticed you on his last visit to the paddock, bright-eyed as you followed the Sky Sport presenters around. After a lot of practicing, they let you do your own one-on-one interviews, starting you off with reserve drivers so it wasn't overly important in case you bombed.

You waited in the media pen, Ollie was eventually brought over by his media manager. You got through the interview without embarrassing yourself too much, it wasn’t until that afternoon that you felt your shoulder being tapped. You turned around to find yourself face to (muscly) chest with Ollie. You looked up at him, craning your neck in the process. "Y/n, right?" he asked. "I-uhm-yeah, that's me."

You think about that day all the time, the day you met your current boyfriend. You had known each other over 3 years now, dating for just over a year and a half. After knowing him for 3 years, what you could never get over was his size. He’s tall and broad and the size of him always makes you giggly and nervous.

When you can’t reach something on the top shelf, he puts his hand on your waist and kisses your cheek, reaching over you and pulling the object down. You look up at him to thank you and he’s just so… there. Towering over you, making you feel small and you kinda love it.

When you’re lying on the couch and he comes over for cuddles. He flops himself on top of you, his head resting the crevice of your neck, his weight crushing you in the best way. When he usually lies on the couch, his feet just hit the end but when he lies on you, his feet stick out the end of the couch. You always ask if he wants you to move up but he always shakes his head and nuzzles into your neck. You’re astounded at how he discards his comfort to be with you.

You guys went to a concert a couple months ago and you were stuck behind a group of stupidly tall people. You kept trying to look over shoulders, wiggling around in the cramped space. Ollie leaned and asked “you ok baby?” You look up at him “I can’t see anything” you grumble. He giggled, “do you wanna get up on my shoulders, love?” You look at him shocked. “How would I even get up there?” He leaned in and whispered “I’ll show you”. He knelt down on the ground, taking your hand and pulling you over to sit on his shoulders. He held both your hands to keep you steady when he stood up, giving you the perfect view of the concert.

The way he would stand behind you in a mirror, lovingly looming over you while his shoulders reached wider than yours. His arms winding around yours waist, pulling you into his muscly chest. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, like they do every time Ollie shows off how big he is, and you love it.

[dearhargrove]

could I request a fic where reader is completely inexperienced. Like she has never even kissed a boy before. And also maybe she has had awful past experiences with s€x as well, whatever you feel most comfortable writing of course. And so she feels very shy around Billy (they already are in a relationship) and she admits that to him ? Or maybe he figures it out on his own. Whatever you prefer. And he is being super sweet and patient with her and letting her take baby steps.

Inexperienced

Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

summary You loved him and you were sure of it. He was sweet, romantic and respectful (if he wanted to). Yes, he came with trauma and emotional baggage, but he tried his best. So why was it so hard to forget your inexperience and kiss him?

word count 600

tags reader feeling nervous and being scared, Billy is sweet in this one !

a/n I’m sorry for taking so long! Life’s kinda crazy right now.. also just haven’t been feeling the best about myself and everything so I couldn’t find motivation 🫠 I didn’t wanna half ass this but I think I did anyway. I’m really sorry <3

masterlist | navigation

He had noticed. Of course he had - and you knew. It made you nervous, knowing that he knew. You were inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before him, you hadn’t even kissed anyone yet.

Which made it hard to be intimate with him in any way; even a kiss made you turn your head so it would land on your cheek instead.

It wasn’t because you didn’t want to, you were scared. What if you were bad at it? He had a lot of experience - what if you wouldn’t compare? There were so many doubts swarming in your head at the mere thought of kissing him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him because you did. It was yourself you didn’t trust. What if he ended up being disappointed by you?

Your nervousness mixed with your inexperience whenever you even just thought about doing something with him.

You anxiously pull at a loose thread on your knitted sweater, unraveling a few more threads in the process. Before you can continue pulling on your sweater a hand covers yours.

“Don’t do that, you’ll regret it later, babe,” Billy reminds in between a drag of his cigarette. You smile a little shakily and nod, “Yeah- yeah, you’re right.”

“What’re you thinking about anyway? You’re never this quiet,” he drawls and flicks the cigarette out of the car window and onto the street. You eye him quickly and shrug, deciding not to tell him.

He turns his body to the side and looks at you fully, “What’s going on?” You bite your lip and weigh your options. Telling him would help you overcome your fears and maybe even kiss him - finally.

But he could also be weirded out at the kind of things you were so thoughtful about.

“Jus’ tell me, pretty. Not gon’ be mad or anything,” he rasps and you look at him, directly into his eyes. “Uhm…” you start and look back out the window instead before continuing, “I want to kiss you.”

He makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat but lets you finish what you wanted to say.

“But like, I have no idea how to..? And I don’t wanna disappoint you cuz you got all this experience and I don’t-“

You’re interrupted when his hand gently clasps your chin and pulls you close to his face. He presses a kiss to your chin and shushes you, “I couldn’t care less. Worst case, I’ll teach you.”

He mumbles against your cheek all while holding eye contact. Your skin rises in goosebumps and you blink slowly before managing a small nod. He takes it and leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

It’s unlike you would’ve expected and in some way it’s just a kiss but in another way it’s so much more. It means the world to you how patient he was readily being and the emotions this carries.

When he pulls back he has a smirk on his face, “You practiced with sum?” He teases and you slap his shoulder with a laugh.

[givemeasinglekidney]

Jealousy, jealousy | Oikawa T.

Hurt/comfort

Warnings: swearing

Synopsis: you become Seijoh’s manager after not being able to get into other clubs. After a while you start getting backlash by the milk bread lover’s fans.

Well that was no use.

Every club you had tried for either rejected you or was too cramped. So what now?

You walked around school during lunch. You didn't have many friends, yet the ones you did just so happened to be busy right now. As you were walking, you passed the gyms, more specifically the volleyball gyms. You applied for the female volleyball club but you turned in your application just a tad too late. As you passed the gym, you heard a voice.

“Damn, every one of them?” The first voice said. It was followed by another.

“Yeah. Kinda sucks man.” He replied.

“Man! Why does he have to make it so hard to find a genuine manager?”

“Unfortunately, he’s our captain. Also happens to be our best friend, Makki.”

“You’re right on that unfortunate part.”

You contemplated. Boys Volleyball manager? Doesn’t have a bad ring to it. It sounded hard to get in, but every other club had failed, so why not.

You walked into the teacher’s work room and located their coach, Irihata. You already knew of him from the volleyball team being so famous in the region.

“Uhm, excuse me.” You asked, “Where can I apply for the Boy’s Volleyball manager position?” He looked at you, slightly annoyed after what you said.

He crossed his arms, “Listen, we’re not really looking for any managers currently. We know you really like our setter but our manager needs to be serious in what they’re doing.”

You lifted your eyebrow in confusion, “Your setter being…”

He stopped for a second before answering you, “... Oikawa Toru…”

You paused to collect your thoughts, then it hit you, “Oh! Him! You mean that one guy who injured his knee a bit ago! Yeah I know of him. Never talked to him, but he seems to always have girls' company. I mean good for them, they know their type, but I’m good.”

He kind of stared at you, “Ah… well… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to let you apply. Can I ask if you have any experience with volleyball?” He questioned before reaching into his desk to grab you an application.

“Yes I do!” You said, “I’ve played for all 3 years of junior high. I tried applying for tryouts for the female team but I turned it in too late.” He handed you the application and you bid your goodbyes as lunch would be over soon.

It was the next day and as you got to school you strolled to the gym as the boys had morning practice. There weren’t any girls there since it was super early and you just wanted to turn your application in asap. As you opened the door, you caught sight of all the boys, focused on their playing. You heard a voice call out to you.”

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up!” You turned to the direction of the coach. “Got that application filled out?”

“You know I do!” You walked over to him. He looked at the papers you handed him.

“(L/N) (Y/N), hm.” He read your name. He continued to scan your paper, nodding his head every once and a while. “Well, I'd say you’d be a great fit. If you really do want to join, you’re welcome!”

“Really? That’d be great! When could I start?” You questioned. You were kind of excited. You finally got accepted. And for it being your final year in highschool, you were hoping it would work out.

“Well, I don’t see why you can’t start now.” He stated. He then raised his voice in the direction of the players. “Hey boys! Gather around!”

The boys stopped what they were doing and came crowding around. Their eyes tended to land on you, which caused a couple whispers here and there.

“This is (Y/N) (L/N). She’s now going to be your new manager.” He announced.

You took this as your sign to introduce yourself. “Yo.”

There were a couple murmurs of disbelief, and then one guy crying what you think were happy tears about it, until one guy started talking.

“Ah, are you sure you’re not one of my lovely fans who made her way to this spot?”

“No, not in a million years.” You shot back with no hesitation after looking him up and down. False tears ran down his eyes as his friends laughed.

“PFFFT- HA! Get rejected!” A boy with pinkish hair giggled out, His friend laughing right next to him.

Suddenly, there was a slight commotion at the gym doors. You went to inspect it when you got called out to.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, it’s a mob out there.” A muscular guy said.

You contemplated, but finally moved your feet towards the door. As you opened it, you were met with many confused eyes.

“Uh, who are you?” One girl asks.

“(L/N), the team's manager. Who are you?” You replied nonchalantly. You were met with eyes of disbelief and jealousy. Then, all of the sudden, it was like a light bulb went off in all their heads.

“Hey, (L/N), you're in my Calc! You can let me in right!”

“Hey, You're so pretty. Let’s talk!”

“We sat together last year! We’re friends, let me in!”

You stared at them with a look of disdain. Then, you got an idea.

“What’s the password?”

They all paused.

“...What…”

“Wrong!” You interrupted.

“What password?”

“Incorrect!”

“Listen here you little-”

“Wrong again!” You cut her off. “Man you guys are really bad at this. Oh well, no Oikawa for you. Good day.” And you slammed the door shut.

You turned around to see the team, half in awe and the other half laughing their asses off.

“Oh my god…” One with short, messy black hair said between halfs, “This is great!”

Time skip -

It’s been 6 months since then and you’d become best friends with the 4 other third years. They saw you like their sister, like they’ve known you since forever. Well, most of them.

“(L/N), can you tell Mattsun he’s being an idiot!” A pink haired male shouts. It was lunch and the two were arguing over what color science was.

“Am no! It’s 100% blue!” He shouts back.

“Is not! It’s definitely yellow!” His best friend argues.

“I think you’re both being idiots.” You said with a straight face, “Also, it’s green dumbasses.”

They went back to quarreling as you took a bite out of your rice. Iwaizumi and Oikawa sat to your right as the two others sat to your left.

“Why do you fuel their stupid questions?” Asks the half filipino.

“It’s funny watching them fight over stupid shit. It fuels my entertainment.” You answered. You found it easy to stir the pot with the two.

“Yeah, but they’ve been talking about it for 10 minutes now…” The setter added.

“Okay, watch this.” You turned your head to Makki and Mattsun, “Centaurs have six legs, therefore are insects. Discuss.” The two began to discuss.

“Oh my god-” The setter looked in disbelief and amusement.

“Ima be right back, gonna grab a drink.” You stood up.

“Get me something!” The brunet said.

“Nope, get it yourself ya broke bitch.” You replied and walked off.

You turned the corner to the vending machine. You put your coins in and selected your choice of drink. As you knead down to grab it, a hand comes and takes it before you reach it. You look up to see a girl meet your stare.

“Well if it isn’t the little whore.” She speaks with venom.

This was the part you hated about being their manager, and it wasn’t even the boys fault, it was the girls. You have female friends, so you know it's not all girls, but there are some who are way too attached to the main setter.

“You’re one to talk.” You spit back.

You never told anyone about how these girls would treat you. You didn’t want to cause more commotion or possibly lose your position to problems being caused.

“Everyone knows you're just a manager to be close to the 3rd year. Especially Oikawa. You’re no different than the rest of us. The only difference is you’re actually hoeing around with them. It’d break their hearts to know you’re just using them” She stated. She acted like she knew all your business.

“Really? Cause it sounds to me like you're projecting what you’d do.” You replied. “And I’m not doing any of that. It’s so obvious we’re all just friends.”

Just friends. That’s all you were. Unfortunately, there is a false statement you made. After you thought it would never happen, you managed to gain a bit, just a tiny little bit of feelings for none other than Oikawa. It’s not like you wanted to, in fact that was your exact opposite intention, but that was your result.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you tell yourself.” She looked at you with disgust. “You know, they probably feel bad for you. You had nowhere to go so they had no other choice. I mean, who’d want to hang out with an ugly nobody? Look at yourself. They’re just being nice. When the time comes, they’ll drop you within seconds. You’re helpless without them.” She took a sip of what was supposed to be your drink. What a bitch.

She walked off leaving you standing there. You didn't want to admit it, but sometimes people like her really get to you. You never showed it, but they did affect you. And you know what they say about just ignoring it? Yeah, pure bullshit. It never works. They’re no longer looking for a reaction, but a punching bag. Someone who will take their punches and not give anything back, coming back the next day to repeat the cycle.

You walked back to the group, no drink in hand.

“Hey, where's your drink?” Mattsun asked, his quarrel with Makki being finished with no answer since they ended up spiraling off topic, somehow getting to how Baby’sRus is a misleading name.

“Oh, they were out of what I wanted lol.” You told them. You lied to them about a lot of things. You felt bad, but it was always due to the treatment you received from the ever so glorious fan base.

Lunch soon ended and so did the day.

You were making your way to the boys gym when you had a thought.

‘Were they just being nice?’ You questioned. ‘No, they wouldn’t, I’m mean to them sometimes anyway. Mean. Maybe I take it too far sometimes. Maybe they are just being nice. They did want a manager, so this is their way of not complaining.’

You tended to overthink, but recently it’s developed worse than it’s usually been. Like a million thoughts running through your head yet you still can't figure out where the music is coming from and why it’s only playing the same 4 lines over and over again.

You saw the doors to the gym… and turned around. You headed home. They didn’t need you. Nobody did. Maybe they’re all right. You’re useless. Unworthy. Ugly. Words hurt like any other injury, but it’s something painkillers couldn't stop.

You walked the sidewalk alone for the first time since you joined their practice. It was quiet. You were going to miss the chaotic chats with them walking to eachothers house. Makki, Mattsun, Iwa, then finally, yours. Oikawa insisted that they’d go to your house first cause he ‘didnt want their precious manager being in danger’ which was sweet of him, but also kind of dumb since his house was closer to Iwa’s than yours. Over the course of the 5-ish minute walk to your house, the two of you had bonded nicely. Too bad you didn’t plan on going back. As much as you loved them, loved him, you worried it was all lies. Their words got to your head and they stung. Then they stayed, but you got used to the sensation.

You made it to your room and looked at your phone to find missed texts from the team. You picked Oikawa’s number to find 2 missed calls and 8 missed texts. Man this boy was insane. You texted back ‘Sorry, don’t feel good, carry on without me.’

Technically you didn’t lie. You really weren’t feeling good, just it was mental rather than physical. You laid on your bed, clutching a pillow as you put your blanket over you. Tears started to spill. You couldn’t take it anymore. You cried into your sheets until you slipped into sleep.

You didn’t go to school the next day. Or the next. You stayed in bed most of the time, occasionally going on your phone or to the bathroom. Other than that you were either numb, crying, or asleep. Every now and then you’d stare at yourself in the bathroom, insecurities rising as you cry out about your appearance. You maybe ate one meal within the 2 days you stayed home, but it’s mostly a blur.

It was the afternoon when someone intervened.

The one

The only

Oikawa Toru.

You were laying in your bed. You had just finished a breakdown, eyes still red. Out of nowhere, you hear someone running up the stairs. You thought for a second you were about to be a victim of a home invasion, being that your parents were home, but you were proven wrong when a tall, brown eyed male swung open the door.

“(L/N)! What’s wrong! Are you sick?” He questioned you. You’d been gone from school for 2 days now, making you absent for 4 practices. 3 after school, and 1 morning.

“Oikawa! Shouldn’t you be at practice right now? What are you doing?” You asked, thoroughly confused how he got in. wait- “How’d you get into my house?”

“Well when our manager is sick, who just so happens to be one of my best friends, I’m gonna see what's wrong.” He answered, taking short breaths making you figure he ran all the way here. “Also, I know where you keep your spare key.”

He looked around to see what state you were in. It had been evident you were crying, despite you trying to hide your face in the comfort of your pillows. He sighed and made his way over to your bed, sitting on the edge.

“Now, tell me what's bothering you?” He said, his voice becoming soft.

“Nothing, just don’t feel good. It’s no use wasting your time here.” You told him, hoping he’d leave. You didn't need his pity. Maybe you wanted it, but you turned it down thinking it was all an act, all lies.

“If you think I’m falling for a lame lie, you're wrong.” He sighed. “What’s going on?”

Oikawa, out of all the guys, knew you the best. There wasn’t a way he’d be convinced you’re okay. So… You spilled.

“Why do you keep me around?” You started, “Why do you care?”

“...What do you mean?” He asked, his worry growing.

“I mean, why me? Out of everyone, why do you guys hang out with me? I’m mean and useless. My management isn’t even good. If you're just being nice to spare my feelings then just leave me. I know my worth and it isn’t a lot. You guys deserve better.” You finished your mini rant with tears brimming at your eyes.

He stared at you with empathy. He hated seeing you like this, it hurt him so much.

“You’re amazing. In all you’ve done you’ve helped our team more than we ever dreamed. We finally found someone who’s dedicated to all she’s assigned to help us with. You know me. You know I’d never be fake with someone to spare their feelings.” He sighed. “I just wish… you’d see yourself the way I do…”

You felt terrible. Your crush sat there as you pathetically lied on your bed because of some emotions, or lack thereof.

“You don’t mean that.” You said, trying not to face him.

He laid down on your bed, right next to you as your back was turned in his direction.

“Have they been bothering you?” he interrogates.

“Who’s they?” You tried acting oblivious, but you both knew who ‘they’ were.

“You know exactly who.” He replied. You stayed silent. He sighed again, “I should’ve known. I'm so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You cut him off, “It’s not your fault you're attractive.”

“Oh, so you think I’m attractive?” He remarks, trying to lighten up the mood.

“Oh shut up.” You giggle. It was the first time in a while you did that.

“What a shame. I wished the person I liked found me attractive.” He jokes. It took you a moment to process what he just said, then it hit you.

“Wait, what?” You questioned in disbelief.

“I know you said you’d never like me, not in a million years… but I can’t say the same for myself. It’s selfish but I really do like you.”

You turned around and stared at him. He stared back, but his mind was racing, taking your silence as rejection. Before he could get up, you grabbed at him and buried your head in his chest.

“Don't…” You started, “Don't leave. Please? I like you, too. I promise it didn’t start out this way but this is how it ended. I know now I look creepy but I didn't-”

He cut you off. Not with words, but with his lips. The warm sensations of his mouth on yours brought you a comfort like no other. Your hands wrapped around his neck, and he went around your waist, closing any gap there was between you two.

He broke the kiss, pulling away to stare at your beauty. “I get it. I’m glad you feel that way.”

“Can we… keep this a secret? Just the two of us?” If this got out, you’d be out for the count. Numerous rumors would start and people would start thinking that you were an actual whore.

Oikawa saw your mind race and put it to a stop, “Of course, I get it. We should tell the others about your situation. We’re here to protect you, you know. We love you. I love you.”

“... Love you too, Toru.” You said and he pulled back into the hug as you head rested on his neck/

“...So you do think I’m attractive.”

Small time skip -

After that night, you told the group what was happening and just like Oikawa said, they stepped in. The 4 of them became your personal bodyguards, not letting any known Oikawa fangirl try and say shit to you. After practices, you and Oikawa would walk to either you or his house to hang out and have little private dates. You were the happiest you’d ever been in a while. You slowly lost all thought of others' jealousy, enjoying your life with your best friends and lover.

[marksbear]

hello again!

could you write a norman bates x male reader that includes a part where norman watching the reader either shower or masturbate through the peephole

Hey Anon! Hope your having a good Christmas/eve!

NORMAN BATES X MALE READER

It was morning when Y/n arrived with his co-workers at the Bates motel.

Norman is standing at the window in his mother's house watching a car pull up. He stands still watching the car find a parking spot. A group of men wearing suits step outside the car looking around.

They all are very loud and they walk inside the building. Norman watches them enter before turning his attention back to the car where a man wearing a fully unbuttoned dress shirt and loose dress pants on also with a cigarette loosely on his lips to top it all off.

He looks around to be Norman's own age unlike the men inside the building who had beards and fancy/ rich suits. Norman jogs outside his mothers house and to the man who is leaning on the car.

"Hi uhm I mean Hello!" Norman says to the man once he gets closer to him. The man looks at Norman and opens his mouth to speak but gets cut off by a shout.

"I told you Y/n! Theres no one in this damn motel!" The oldest man in the group shouts at the youngest who has a smirk on his face. "Oh yeah? Who's he?"

The group all looks at Norman studying him. "Do you work here?" One of them asks snatching the cigarette from Y/n lips and put it on his own. "Yes. Would you all follow me?" Norman heads inside while the group follows.

As they all sign in and stop when it's time to pay looking at the man who Norman guesses is Y/n. Y/n lets out a sigh and hands one of the men in the group his wallet to which he opens and digs inside for a right amount of cash to pay for everyone.

"Okay I paid! That means I get a room to myself and all of you share." Y/n snatches his wallet from the man's hand. "Would you like to join us for breakfast?" One of the men asks Norman.

The question caught Norman off guard. He had never been asked by someone let alone a whole group to join them for breakfast. "I-I would love to!" Norman says before adding. "but first let me take your bags."

"Ahh. That's okay but you can get Y/n's." The man tells him as the whole goes outside to get their things. One of the men who didn't say much to Norman gave him Y/n bags without a word.

"Hell yeah lucky number one." Y/n opens the door for Norman as they both walk inside.

TIMESKIP

The group including Norman goes to the oldest man's room to have breakfast. The entire room is chatting while Norman stares at Y/n's exposed chest. "Y/n kid. How many times I gotta tell you to fix your shirt you're being rude." The young man rolls his eyes and buttons up his shirt.

"If I may ask why are all of you riding together?" Norman asks the question hes been dying to ask. "Simple. For work even our young boy Y/n is here for work. We might be here for a while back and forth to work and all." The oldest one says while serving everyone food.

"Surprisingly Y/n is our manager. Well really our supervisor. Making sure we are taking care of ourselves. Even though he was the supervisors were the ones who were babysitting him." Another one pitches in with a laugh.

Norman watches one of the men who looks close to around thirty sit beside him laying his head on Y/n shoulder as they eat. Norman stares at the man with hatred and disgust in his eyes.

"Thats Ronnie. Him and Y/n are like dog and man. Best friends until the end." One of the other men says with a full mouth of food. Y/n finishes his food kinda fast getting up and goes to the sink washing his plate.

"Hey kid... Do you play any baseball? Come on let's play." Y/n says before opening the door walking out not even sparring Norman if hes coming. Norman quickly finishes his food rushing outside to play.

"Can I ask you something..." Norman says to Y/n. Y/n nods his head yes and puts out his cigarette. "Why do you hang out with them even though they're much older than you?"

The question makes Y/n think for a while since he hasn't heard that question in a while. "They're like my family. I got no kids no wife, ma and pops we don't talk much, so they're all I got. And I don't plan on having a wife anytime soon." Y/n smiles at Norman before throwing the ball at him.

"Now lets play bell boy~" Y/n says playfully.

TIMESKIP

it was about midnight and Norman went to the painting in his little room moving it and peeking inside.

He finds Y/n stripping out of his clothes while humming a song. Once Y/n is only wearing his underwear, Norman unbuckles his own pants pulling them down alongside his underwear.

Norman member slowly grow hard each second he sees Y/n outline of his cock in his underwear. Norman mouth waters imagining Y/n cock being hard or just next to him like this. Y/n walks inside the bathroom letting the door stay wide open as he brushes and wash his face.

Y/n starts his shower water before going back inside the bedroom getting some clean clothes. The young man pulls down his underwear letting his cock become free. Norman watches Y/n cock like a madman drooling over himself and touching his cock.

Norman hears Y/n sigh and watches Y/n wrap a towel around his waist walking outside. Norman quickly puts the painting back up and puts his clothes back on before going outside.

Norman watches Y/n heads down to Ronnie's room knocking on it. Ronnie was quick to open and look Y/n up and down checking him out shamelessly before handing him a box of cigarettes.

Y/n takes them with a smile on his face before wishing him goodnight before heading back to his room. "Bates. Didn't think you were still awake." Y/n says seeing him around the corner. Sadly Norman forgot he was rock hard in his pants and ran back to the office.

Y/n was too tired to care and walked back inside his room. Quickly Norman goes back inside the small room and moves the painting back down peeking inside pulling down his underwear and pants back down.

The young man Y/n once he gets back into his room he shuts the door and throws his towel off putting the box of cigs on his clean clothes with a large towel. After Y/n puts the items down he finally hops in the shower not even using the curtain to cover himself.

Norman's eye is probably poking out of the wall the way he's watching so intensely while jerking off his cock. Norman lets out whimpers and huffs seeing Y/n cock shine from the water. Y/n lets some of the water into his mouth before spraying it all out with a giggle. Louder and louder Y/n sing in the shower.

Soon enough Norman imagines hes in the shower alongside Y/n singing the song both singing alongside each other washing each other's body like a perfectly married couple with maybe future kids.

The water traveling down Y/n body makes him a sight for sore eyes. It makes him look oh so perfect. Norman claws the wall as he looks down at his aching twitching cock watching the precum leak out of his tip and onto the floor.

He looks back at Y/n's soapy body. Norman's moans fall out of his lips much to his dismay. He watches Y/n step out of the shower turning off the water once he gets done and turns off the bathroom light and shutting the door.

Y/n dries himself off with the towel but doesn't make an effort to wrap it around himself. Norman throws his head back and clenches his teeth together as he cums hard on his hand covering it white. Norman peeks back at the wall through the hole seeing Y/n soft cock in between his legs while Y/n leans on the wall.

Norman quickly cleans himself and puts his clothes back on with his legs trembling a bit and goes back to the office getting the check in book flipping the pages until he finds your name.

"Y/n L/n."

"Y/n Bates...

"No. Norman L/n."

"Yes. Norman L/n and Y/n L/n. The happiest married couple alive."

"That sounds perfect! Don't you agree mother?"

[sris-skies]

cinema- minjae xikers

minjae sighed, was it of relief or of loneliness? yes he had managed to get away from the rest of his bandmates and persuaded his management to be able to go to the movie cinema nearby without any security around him. it made him feel almost… normal. but he felt kinda lonely, there wasn’t anyone around him that he could talk to. 

he stood in line to enter the cinema, half messing around on his phone, half zoning out- since when did cinemas take fifteen minutes to get set up with a movie? and the staff had predicted another half hour of waiting before anything would be ready, causing him to groan quietly. of course he knew that the staff weren’t at fault here, they were barely paid minimum wage, but he did still feel a bit frustrated. 

the girl next to him in the line sighed softly, she was cute and seemed to be his age too, huh. no, he’s an idol, he can’t think that… but what if it's just left at thoughts? management can't read his mind, he can’t be scolded for just thinking that she’s pretty. 

the girl behind him tapped him gently on his shoulder, getting his attention. “hey uhm, weird question but uh” she started saying, causing minjae to inwardly roll his eyes, sure he loved his fans but he did want to be left alone for a bit on his birthda- “are you also seeing the ghostbusters movie today?” she finished her question, cutting his thoughts off abruptly. “uhm yeah, I, I am” he said awkwardly. “oh cool! what’s your seat??” she asked him excitedly, eyes lighting up. “uh, oh, seat J10, why?” he replied, a bit cautious, not wanting to give away any information that could give away what his identity was. “no way!! I’m sitting in seat J11! that’s so cool.” she responded excitedly. “by the way, sorry if i’m a bit talkative at the moment! my friends didn’t want to come see it with me and i honestly have a bit of a weak stomach when it comes to these kinds of things..” she responded awkwardly. 

“that’s ok, i kinda have the same problem but I wanted to be alone so that’ll be fine i think.” he responded slightly awkwardly, not fully knowing how to respond to such a pretty girl that was talking to him, without knowing that he was an idol. 

the two continued talking to each other in the line, getting more comfortable with each other, never once mentioning their names. minjae could feel himself relax, her presence feeling comforting and pleasant, a nice change from his bandmates and managers. the way that her laugh was making him feel butterflies in his stomach, it was so cute and he couldn’t help himself from smiling as she spoke. 

the time seemed to fly by, the cinema finally opening up. “ah, I need to go now, sorry..” the pretty girl says sheepishly. “I kinda lied earlier, I’m not seeing ghostbusters, I just thought that you were cute and wanted to talk to you, here’s my number uhm, i’d love to actually see a movie with you sometime?” she said shyly, handing him a piece of paper with her name and number scribbled onto it, waving goodbye to him awkwardly.

minjae stared at the piece of paper in slight shock, a smile slowly creeping up his face. ‘best birthday gift yet.’ he thought to himself.

i was fighting against the clock in order to have this posted in time and i lost :( being a uni student and a writer is a full time job atp 😭

[sleepiexx]

The Love of my Life and my Worst Enemy Pt.2

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.1

Note: if I get so much as one person interested in another part of this I will write it, do not tempt me or so help me god

Summary: Valeria and (Y/N) escape prison and live happily ever after mwah

Warnings: guns, wound cleaning, kinda angsty at some parts, prison escape, Valeria kills a few people whoopsie

Word count: 1806

The plan was carried out without a hitch, not that (Y/N) knew that, she wasn’t sure exactly what the plan was. All she knew was her own role in it; a countermeasure Valeria had in place just in case she was double crossed.

She didn’t even know when it would happen, just that she needed to be ready. Valeria woke her in the middle of the night, whispering quickly, “Come on, (Y/N), it’s time.”

She shuffled off the top bunk and to her feet quickly. She dug into the underside of Valeria’s mattress, pulling out a small device. It wasn’t the best hiding place but Valeria had somehow found out that there wouldn’t be a room check for another few days, enough time for them to set things in motion.

The device was a makeshift service jammer, something of (Y/N)‘s own design. It would cut comms between the prison officers just long enough that Valeria could lead the both of them to the control room and cut the power. That wasn’t the endgame, however. That was just to buy (Y/N) time; in the dark, Valeria would make her way back to their room where she would “distract” the guards with a shank she’d acquired. In the mean time, (Y/N) would work diligently to get the prison gates open. It took some time but she managed, waiting patiently in the control room for Valeria to come get her.

A rhythmic knock sounded at the door, one she and Valeria had agreed on. She opened the door to be greeted by the blood-soaked cartel leader on the other side.

“Did you do it?”

(Y/N) scoffed, “Of course I did it.”

Valeria grinned and patted her shoulder, leaving behind a bloody handprint, “I knew you had it in you. Now come on, my men are waiting for us.”

(Y/N) nodded and followed Valeria.

“You know how to use a gun?” Valeria asked.

“Aim and pull the trigger?”

Valeria exhaled through her nostrils, holding up the gun and messing with the safety.

“Safety on.” She switched the lever, “Safety off. Use it wisely, it’s a pistol so there isn’t a lot of ammo to waste.”

(Y/N) nodded and reached her hand out for Valeria to pass it to her, but Valeria didn’t move, she had more to show.

“This is how you reload your weapon, time it out so you always have a bullet in the chamber when you need it. Don’t shoot me, don’t shoot any of my men. Understand?”

(Y/N) nodded her head, something that displeased Valeria.

“I need words. Do you understand?”

“Yes- yeah, yeah I do.” (Y/N) stuttered out in response, taken aback by her cell mate’s menacing demeanor despite having experienced it many times in the short span they’d known each other.

Valeria nodded and passed her the pistol.

(Y/N) watched Valeria’s back as she mowed down seasoned prison guards like they were nothing but a bunch of rookies. (Y/N) had never been so scared yet so turned on by a woman in her entire life.

She never had to shoot anyone, by the time Valeria took down all the guards in their immediate vicinity, her men in the cartel had appeared to back them up.

They were escorted to two separate aircrafts waiting outside the prison for them. The men loaded up on the large cargo plane, (Y/N) went to follow but was tugged away by Valeria.

“They aren’t wanted people, they’re going back to Las Almas. You and me, however, need to wait this out elsewhere.” Valeria explained, pulling (Y/N) toward a helicopter.

They sat in seats lining the wall. It was just them along with the pilot and co-pilot. (Y/N) fiddled with the seat belt, unsure of how exactly to fasten it.

“Never flown before?” Valeria questioned.

“Well, uhm, not in a chopper.” (Y/N) admitted.

Valeria unclipped her seat belt, walking towards (Y/N) to fasten it for her. (Y/N)’s air caught in her lungs at the proximity, feeling Valeria’s knuckles graze her torso as she fastened the belt.

“There,” Valeria muttered, raising her voice shortly after to speak to the pilot, “We’re ready for takeoff!”

The flight felt like hours, it likely was. The wind whipped through (Y/N)’s hair as the loud noise of the chopper whirring rang in her ears. As they finally touched down, (Y/N) took in her surroundings. Large trees, mountains, signs with English on them. It looked like they were in the U.S., probably somewhere in the Rockies.

She followed Valeria’s lead as they walked towards a car. Valeria sat in the drivers seat, (Y/N) in the passenger side, neither said a word as they drove away from the private aircraft hangar.

Finally, they reached their destination. Tucked away in one of Valeria’s lavish safe houses, the two were alone.

Valeria tossed her some clothes, they were fairly plain and a size or two larger than what (Y/N) was used to wearing.

“Put those on, can’t stay in the jumpsuit forever.”

(Y/N) wondered if she should ask where a bathroom is to change but shook that idea away when Valeria herself started stripping in the middle of the living room. She hesitantly took off her clothes, wincing slightly as her sore body finally felt the full extent of the torture she’d endured.

In prison, she was almost in a state of shock, still hardly feeling the effects of what Katya had done to her. Now, though, the adrenaline of the break out slowly wore off and everything hurt.

She slipped on the pants quickly, tying the drawstring so they fit. As she reached for her shirt, she was stopped by a gentle caress. She turned, meeting eyes with Valeria.

“She did this to you?” Valeria seethed, gently tracing the dark purple bruises, inflamed cuts, and burn marks along (Y/N)’s torso.

(Y/N) was at a loss for words, mortified that Valeria had seen her like that, had seen her weakness. In prison, she’d made sure to never change in front of Valeria. No one needed to know exactly what had happened, how she couldn’t fight back, how weak she’d been.

(Y/N) saw no point in lying, dejectedly nodding.

Valeria’s eyes softened before hardening once more into a glare, filled with rage.

“I’ll kill her.” She muttered, not a threat but a promise.

She tugged on (Y/N)’s wrist, pulling her to another room. She led (Y/N) into what looked like the master bedroom of the large house, continuing into the bathroom.

(Y/N) watched as she rummaged through the cabinets for a first aid kit. As she wet a cotton pad and dabbed it on one of the wounds, (Y/N) flinched away.

“What- what are you doing?”

“You do not want those getting infected, trust me.” Valeria said, pressing her to the counter so she couldn’t squirm away and returning to cleaning off (Y/N)’s wounds.

As (Y/N) winced and whimpered at the stinging pain from the alcohol entering her cuts, Valeria showed compassion for the first time since they’d met. She grabbed one of (Y/N)’s hands, rubbing circles into her knuckles.

“Squeeze my hand, it’ll make it hurt less.”

So she did. She sat patiently as Valeria cleaned and dressed her wounds, frequently squeezing Valeria’s calloused hands. It wasn’t like she had any other option than to sit still, with Valeria’s hips pressed firmly against her own, keeping her in place. It was tough love, something Valeria had mastered.

(Y/N) felt vulnerable, weak, exposed. Shame soaked her to her very core. As if it had been her own fault that everything had happened. If she hadn’t been so stupid, so trusting, so naive, maybe, just maybe she could have foreseen Katya’s betrayal. Her eyes watered in utter embarrassment.

Valeria patted her hip, pulling her out of her stupor, “I’m done, you can go put on your shirt now. I’m going to clean all of this up.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Thank you,” she muttered, afraid to speak any higher at the chance of her voice breaking.

She walked all the way back to the living room, where her shirt had been left on the couch. Finally alone, she couldn’t stop the flow of tears from coming down. She tossed the shirt on quickly and tried hard to calm herself. Rubbing her eyes in hopes they’d stop crying before wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her sides. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit down on her lip so she wouldn’t let out a sob. A hand touched her back but at this point, she was too far gone to care about Valeria seeing her cry.

She expected rejection, expected Valeria to see her tears and scoff at how weak she was. And yet, Valeria’s touch was nothing but gentle and soft, pulling (Y/N) into her arms, allowing her to sob into her shoulder. After a long silence with no noise but the sounds of crying, Valeria finally spoke.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

(Y/N) sobbed harder, half out of raw pain and half out of relief.

God, it felt so nice to feel the loving caress of another human being for the first time in nearly a month. (Y/N) unwrapped her arms from around herself and wrapped them around Valeria’s waist, pulling her in tight.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” She whined.

Valeria moved her hand up and down her back, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

(Y/N) stood there for a long while, tear stained face buried in Valeria’s shoulder as her body was wracked with sobs. Valeria muttered hushed reassuring words, which eventually soothed the other girl to a calm state, still hiccuping, but no longer sobbing.

“So strong.” Valeria whispered, “Everything that vile woman put you through and you’re still standing. I’m proud of you.”

(Y/N) couldn’t speak. She lifted her head from Valeria’s shoulder and gazed into her eyes. She felt a hurricane of emotions brewing, in the eye, longing. She went with her gut, leaning in slowly, giving Valeria time to pull away if she wanted, before meeting her lips in a tender kiss. It was slow, and soft, but it lasted. Lips moving in sync, speaking a million words that they hadn’t dared to utter. Even as they broke apart, the touch of it lingered on either girls’ lips.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight, but fuck I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.” (Y/N) murmured. Valeria silenced her with another kiss.

The rest of that night was passed exchanging kisses on the couch, forever altering the course of both of their lives.

[chenfordspiral]

A Chenford Thesis on 5x10

Hi, hello. It’s me again! I’ve taken my time with this one because the creative juices just wouldn’t quite flow the way they often did with my little essay for 5x08. I’m surprised I actually managed to get this done before 5x18 ultimately kills us all. That might’ve actually given me the necessary push to finish this because I know I won’t be able to focus after Tuesday. 

Kinda surprised I wrote this at all. Because I was not planning on writing anything but the thing for 5x08. But here we are. You've all given me enough reason to get over my fears and just do this.

So, let’s get started.

Previously on The Tim&Lucy Show – uhm, I mean, The Rookie: Tim asks Lucy out on a date after they’ve finally admitted their feelings for each other. 

That can only mean one thing now: Date night is finally here! 

I love everything about this opening scene. I never would’ve expected to get a rom com like montage of Lucy and Tim stressing over what outfit to wear for their first official date. 

I get giddy every time I see this scene, seriously. 

They’re such different people, but in this moment, they do the same thing. They’ve cleaned out almost their entire closets trying to find the right thing to wear. Tim’s wearing the same pants the whole time, but cannot for the life of him decide on the right button down. 

Meanwhile, Lucy has pulled out all the dresses she’s worn that signify important moments in their journey. The green dress from Angela & Wesley’s first attempted wedding when Tim asked her to save him a dance before it all went to hell but also gave us one of the most significant Chenford moments that had them realize there might be something more between them (I love that hug). 

The dress from the horrendous double date with Blondie and the WIP, where they spent the entire time talking to each other instead of their dates. 

And then the dress she wore to Nyla’s wedding when they finally had that dance he still owed her and told her she’d be the arresting officer on future reports (she’s always been more important than his career). 

But none of those dresses are right for this occasion. It’s time to pick something that’s new. Because this is a new beginning. She just can’t decide which outfit she likes best. 

And then there’s our boy Timothy again. He’s finally frustrated enough to stop trying on different shirts and gets his phone. I don’t know what I expected, but not what happened next. 

Because I never would have imagined that Tim Bradford would stress so much that he would need to call his best friend to calm himself down. And said best friend just happens to be the woman he’s going out with. 

Yeah, I love him. I love them. 

I also love the little pout Lucy makes right before her phone rings. It’s so adorable. She goes to grab her phone, slightly nervous when she realizes it’s Tim who’s calling her, because she’s not even close to being ready to leave. “Hi, I’m almost there” she says, as she stands in the middle of the chaos she’s created trying to find the right thing to wear. 

But Tim catches on immediately. “No, no. No you’re not” because he knows her too well. Lucy grins a little guiltily at being caught, “No, I’m not, sorry. Uhm, are you?”  

“No!” Because of course he isn’t. He wants to look perfect for their date. They both do. They’re both stressing so much. And I love it. “Look, does this restaurant have a dress code?” 

I’m sorry, Tim. You’re asking her about the restaurant? Were you not the one who planned it? Or did you just google ‘most romantic restaurant in town’ and go with it?! Either way, he’s so indecisive that he needs to know if there’s certain expectations from the restaurant. Or maybe he’s just asking Lucy what she’d like to see him wear even though he’s the one who planned everything but is now so flustered that he needs her advice. 

Am I thinking about this too much? Probably. Anyway. 

“Uhh, no. I mean, you could wear cargo shorts, if you wanted.” Ha, as if, Lucy. He would never. But he’s intrigued now. Come on, we all know he knows she’s teasing him here. “Really?” he asks, taking the bait. Or pretending to, anyway. “Yeah, I mean. What does it matter as long as you’re comfortable?” 

“Nice try. That was clearly a test. And you should know better than to test the master” he says while grinning like an idiot. And Lucy just laughs while he says it and fondly rolls her eyes at his, really their, ridiculousness. 

“What are you wearing?” You did not just ask that, Timothy. I know he means it as innocently as possible, but in any other context this would sound very… suggestive, you know. And we already know Lucy’s answer to this before she can say a word: she doesn’t know. Just that she has a lot that she’s already discarded as ‘no’. And she tells him as much. 

To which he responds “Well, we are running low on time. Traffic’s getting ugly.” How long have they been married again? Oh, right. Legally speaking, zero seconds. Emotionally speaking, basically since the day they met. “Yeah, I know. It’s – it’s silly. I just need to make a decision…” Yeah, Lucy, you do. But don’t feel bad. I’m not convinced Tim’s made a final decision yet, either.

“Ah, yes. The green dress. It is decided.” “Great. I’ll… I’ll see you soon.” “Okay. Bye.” I am losing my mind over how soft their voices are here. And look at those smiles. I. Am. Melting. All the nervousness seems to have faded away for a bit. They’re all soft smiles and excitement now. They can’t wait to start this new chapter of their story. 

Lucy takes another look in the mirror after hanging up the phone, still smiling. She likes that dress; she likes the way Tim gave her a once-over and appreciated her in it. And she could hear it in his voice that he remembers how she looked, too. So, this seems fitting. Right? 

“No. God.” 

I’m cackling. Come on Lucy, you’ve already tried on everything you have in your closet. What are you gonna wear?! 

Now, before I even get into this next part, let me just say this: 

I apologize if their first date falls a bit short here. As much as I love this scene, I also kind of hate it because I still get very uncomfortable watching it. I can feel the awkwardness through my screen and it’s making me feel weird. I keep looking away, talking to myself to cover the dialogue or just skip parts of it entirely because I can’t get over the weirdness.

That being said, I will try my best to get through it at least once so I can do this justice, because it’s such an important part of Chenford’s story. But, again, apologies if it feels a bit off at times. 

So, here goes nothing then. 

We finally get to see what they’ve decided to wear. Tim‘s in the same button down as he was when he called Lucy. Now he’s got a nice suit jacket over it, looking pretty handsome. And Lucy, my girl. She chose a dress. Wow. That’s… revealing for a first date. But she looks absolutely gorgeous (yes, I have a girl crush). 

But aside from looking great in their outfits, they look very uncomfortable as they sit side by side in weird silence that’s occasionally filled with the most awkward and unnatural small talk we’ve ever seen between them. Come on, are you actually talking about bread?! 

I can’t help but cackle whenever I see Tim brushing away what I consider to be an imaginary breadcrumb to keep busy. Well, when he’s not checking her out in that gorgeous dress. Can’t blame him though, cause I am definitely looking, too. Respectfully, of course. Just like he is. He almost looks shy when he does it, actually. God, I love him. 

I’m not going to cover all the small talk here because that would be too painful for me, but I will say this. I think most of us were expecting an awkward first date, I even wrote it down somewhere right after the winter finale aired that I wanted it to be awkward. Didn’t think it would make me feel that embarrassed and uncomfortable though. 

Well done, TR. 

But it makes perfect sense. It is going to be awkward and weird when you transition from best friends to lovers. Even more so after spending months barely talking to each other after basically breaking up. They will need a bit of time to find their way in this new relationship. Yes, they know everything about each other. But being together romantically is new; it’s different. It’s a complete 180 compared to the previous few months. 

But once they do find their way, it will all be worth it. Because they’re going be so good together. 

Lucy finally breaks the awkward silence and weird small talk. “Why is this so weird? We’ve literally eaten together hundreds of times.” “Because… our other meals only ever held the promise of being shot at afterwards. You know. And not, like, naked time.”

Timothy?!

I. Am. Cackling. Again. But I can’t help it. Lucy’s reaction is just so priceless, and his expression when he realizes what he just said is sending me. I’m definitely having a good laugh. 

And yeah, his comment here is less than ideal and we can see that he regrets it as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Ok, he kind of regrets it. Look at that head tilt, shrug, and little smirk after Lucy’s ‘are you serious?!’ response. Yeah, he wants it. But it breaks the tension and the awkwardness. They can finally talk to one another. 

They’re finding their way. 

Also, can anyone blame him for going there? He knows how their “undercover” kisses went. She basically jumped him, repeatedly. It’s not too far-fetched to think that this might be happening after they’re done with dinner. But Lucy pretends not to know what he means. For now.  

“Please. I mean, we’ve seen plenty of naked people after we ate.” “Yeah, that’s… that’s not what I m–” “No no no, I know. I know, I know. I – I feel like I might… I need – I might just need you to reset your expectations a little bit.”

Look how his attention is immediately laser-focused on her and what she has to say. He doesn’t wanna miss or misinterpret anything she has to say right now. He knows this is important. 

“You’re not gonna see me naked for… a while.” 

Clearly, she doesn’t know that he already saw her bare back and literally short-circuited in Vegas. Mh. Maybe it’s a good thing they won’t be going there for a while. Gives him more time to mentally prepare himself for it. Anyway. 

I admire the way Lucy isn’t afraid of voicing her wishes here. She knows that she can be open with Tim in a way she hasn’t been able to with anyone else before. She already feels secure enough with him to let him know what she wants without fearing that he’s gonna leave. Because she knows he respects her and won’t judge her for what she wants. Or doesn’t want, just yet. 

“I mean, I don’t wanna rush into that. I wanna take things slow.” 

I love that she wants to approach this relationship differently than what we’ve seen of her with previous relationships before. Because everything with Tim is different. Because Tim is different. He’s, what I like to call, her first and only love. 

We’ve never seen Lucy in love with anyone before. We’ve never seen her heartbroken over someone she dated. With Nolan, she was frustrated that he could end things with her so easily. With Emmett, she was mad that he didn’t break up with her face to face. And with the WIP, she was the one to do the dumping. And she never called any of them her boyfriend for a reason. 

The only time we saw her heartbroken was when she thought Tim didn’t want her in 5x02. Maybe even in 4x21 when she thought he wanted to marry Blondie and she saw him fake-propose (still hate you for that, Timothy. But can I actually hate someone I love?). 

So, we know this is different for Lucy. And she knows it, too. 

Right now, she wants to take this slow. She wants to do this right. Have this date, then a second one, then their first real kiss without the pretense of UC work. “I just don’t think we should jump into bed together just because we know each other so well. I mean, do you –?”  

Because this is “the most important relationship in [her] life” after all. She wants to enjoy just finally getting to be with Tim. She wants to make sure she cherishes every single one of those early moments of what will be the last relationship of her life. When you know it’s gonna last, why rush?

And I love that Tim is so easily on board. He doesn’t question her wishes, doesn’t pressure her into anything she’s not ready for (unlike a certain former WIP). He’s accepting her pace. “Agreed.” Because he understands. She might not want to go there just yet, but he knows it’s in the future. Because he knows he’s the most important person in her life. There’s no question that this is serious for her. She just wants to do this right.

And look at the way he’s looking at her while he listens. I’m melting over here. He’s so damn smitten, my heart can’t take this. Again, I love him. Imagine this said in the way Rachel says it in ep 7x04 of Friends. That’s usually what I mean when I write that. 

“Yeah?”

You can hear the relief in Lucy’s voice and see it in her eyes. Happy that he’s understanding, that he’s okay with the way she wants to do this, and she didn’t miscalculate how he’d respond. Yes, there might’ve been a small part of her that was a bit scared that he wouldn’t understand. But at the end of the day, Tim’s always respected Lucy and what she has to say and wants. That’ll never change. 

Their first little moment of normalcy is interrupted when Tim hears the door to the restaurant open and looks over and then around himself. What are you doing, Tim? Focus on the woman sitting next to you, please. Lucy of course sees how he’s suddenly started squirming in his seat and looks over her shoulder. 

She has a little smirk on her face when she’s turning back around, already suspecting what he might be afraid of. “Are you worried someone from the station’s gonna walk in?” “What?” “You are!” “No, I…“ “Wow.” Yeah, she’s kinda enjoying his unease. 

But he’s a bit, well not exactly annoyed, but definitely not happy, either. “What are the odds?” As Lucy gestures ‘who knows,’ they’re interrupted yet again by a loud crash from the kitchen. They both look over, trying to figure out what’s going on. I really appreciate that Tim’s not annoyed at what’s happening but defends the staff because they’re working in a stressful environment. 

But because they’re cops, Lucy is on alert. Should they do something? Nope, says Tim. Let it blow over on its own. But it doesn’t. It takes a turn for the worse. Because of course it does, it’s Chenford’s first date and they cannot enjoy a moment of peace. 

Now, why does Tim have his gun and badge with him, on a date? Well, he’s a creature of habit, he needs to be prepared for every possible scenario. Still didn’t expect that part though. But I gotta say, thank you. Cause they’re one badass couple (couple!!!), working in tandem to get the situation under control and helping the chef. 

And yes, I clocked Lucy’s little touch to Tim’s arm (and it’s the second one in this entire scene already!) right before they stood up. Once more proving to me that physical touch is definitely one of her love languages. 

After it’s all handled and the guy is in cuffs and the chef’s wound is taken care of, Tim and Lucy look at one another. “What are the chances of someone from the station walking in now?” Aaaand, cue the lights, the cops have arrived. Well, busted. And Tim is more than a little frustrated at how this night has turned out. He just wanted to enjoy finally being able to go out with Lucy. 

He turns back around toward her and, holy. That barely-held-in laugh from Lucy as she looks at him? Dying. She’s enjoying this, because come on, it is kind of hilarious. 

Before, she was joking that the odds were in their favor and there was no chance in hell anyone they knew could walk in. But now it’s actually about to happen. And their names are most likely gonna be on the police report. So people will know they were there together. Having a romantic dinner. Or trying to, anyway. 

This should be interesting. 

Also, I’m seven pages in, and I’ve only covered the first two scenes? No wonder this is taking me forever to write. It can really only get worse from here. 

It’s the next day, and we see them standing together, secluded and removed from the hustle of the rest of the bullpen, deep in conversation. They immediately stop talking when Officer Jan (hi!) walks by. And I need to point out Lucy’s little pose as she tilts her head to the side in greeting. I cannot stop laughing whenever I see it. It’s so adorable and so freaking Lucy. 

Once he’s passed them, Lucy starts talking again. “Okay, we can’t deny the facts. We were both at the restaurant, it’s in the police report.” “And all we know is that the witness reports mention the fact that we were sitting together.” “Yeah.” 

Yup, there it is. Both names in the police report, countless witnesses that can attest to them sitting together… this is bad. Because they both know that what they’re doing is against the rules and they don’t seem to be in a rush to tell people. Or be ready for it. 

See, this is one of the things that surprised me about them getting together this early. And the way they did. Usually, Tim is a stickler for rules. Him dating a subordinate officer in his direct chain of command? And one he once trained, no less? That’s definitely not following the rules. He doesn’t often go against his sense of duty. I assumed this to be a big obstacle and a reason for Tim not to go for it. 

But here’s the big but. 

He’s always been willing to follow his heart instead of his head when it’s about the things and people that matter more. When it’s about the people he loves. Especially because he’s not a big fan of change. 

His world changed and shifted dramatically after he realized that he was in love with Lucy. When he pulled the plug on their professional partnership. When he was single again and had to see the woman he loves with someone else, thinking he had no chance whatsoever. Same for early season 1 Tim after Isabel left. 

There was no stability for him other than the job. 

And I don’t think he’s ready to face the fact that something will have to change eventually. And who can blame him? He’s looked for stability his whole life. 

“This is not strange,” Lucy says after looking around the station again. “Co-workers eat together, it’s a thing.” They do. But not when it’s just two of them and they’re dressed the way you two were. That and the ambiance screamed ‘date’. “At the most romantic restaurant in town?” Most romantic restaurant in town? Wow, look at you, Timothy. Going all out for your woman. Mister “I’m not trying to be romantic” proving once more that he is, in fact, a big fat romantic at heart. 

And Lucy gets it: “Right.” They really can’t deny why they were there together. After another look around the bullpen, Lucy tries a different tactic. “Well, I mean. We could come clean.” You could what? Lucy! 

I did not see this coming. And Lucy being the one to say it? Yeah, she really is in love. We know she’s not opposed to keeping a relationship a secret. She never even considered coming clean about being with Nolan years ago. And they were peers, basically. Not subordinate and superior officer like her and Tim. 

But I’ll repeat myself: Tim is different. Everything is different with him because for the first time, Lucy is actually in love and is therefore okay with telling her boss. Well, her boss’s boss, technically. She seems to be okay with all the potential professional change and backlash.  

“Are you ready for that? Are you ready for Smitty’s commentary on us… dating or the ooh’s every time we walk into the roll call room together?” 

Okay, so much to unpack here. 

First: clearly, Tim was not expecting this from her either. Look at how he looks at her right after she says it. He’s seen how Lucy likes to keep the guys she dates at arm’s length. (But that’s because none of them were you, Timothy.) Second: it’s kind of hilarious that he would assume Smitty of all people to be the one most likely to make fun of them (he won’t, btw). Third: Lucy NOT freaking out about Tim saying they’re dating?

Nope, I’m not squealing with joy over here at all. They’ve had one ‘barely-qualifies-as-a-date’ date and Lucy is perfectly content with labeling their relationship. Then again, she already called him her most important relationship before they were together, so I guess it makes sense that she’d be okay with it. 

But I’m still overjoyed that she’s so content with it all. 

And lastly: I’m sorry Timothy. But once you disclose your relationship, chances are pretty slim to none that you’ll be walking into roll call together again. You’re her superior; dating each other while still working together can’t actually happen, at least not while you’re in the same chain of command. Something’s gonna change. Seems like he’s a bit in denial here, because, again, he’s probably not fully ready for that professional change that has to happen eventually.  

And now Lucy also doesn’t seem too happy about that anymore, either. “Or we could lie.” But interesting that that wasn’t her first thought. And then it’s like a switch flipped after she said lie, because now she’s coming up with a cover story for a UC stint about drug dealers in the restaurant which just so happens to have required Tim’s help.  

One little flaw here, at least for me. You two have barely talked to each other for months, but somehow, he’s the one you asked for help? Interesting. Would that really be believable? But Tim’s on board. Because at least it’s something plausible, kind of. “Not bad.” “Thank you.” Oh, they’re so cute in this moment. 

And the moment gets interrupted by Nolan, thank you very much. All he says is “Morning,” and suddenly Tim and Lucy are rattling down their cover story. Hey, my loves. He just said ‘morning’. No need to explain yourselves when he literally hasn’t asked you anything. And Nolan is as confused as I am: “What?” 

Because really Lucy? Even though Nolan didn’t ask, aren’t you supposed to be good at lying and being convincing when telling a cover story? If he were more perceptive in this moment, he would’ve caught on immediately and you two would’ve been busted. 

Their attention is turned towards Celina and Aaron, who they can hear talking and laughing in the roll call room. They briefly discuss if anything’s going on between them before Sergeant Grey’s knocking on his office window to get their attention. Nolan excuses himself after Grey motions for Tim and Lucy to come join him. 

And yes. They look guilty. And apprehensive. Maybe even a little scared. They share a brief look before making their way over. And Tim, ever the gentleman since Lucy became his rookie, is the one to open the door and let her walk in ahead of him (thank you Eric Winter, for insisting to be the one to open the door. Nice continuity!).

But oh boy, does Lucy look even guiltier now that she’s standing in front of Grey. Tim actually looks kind of okay, but he’s already bracing himself for bad news. Also, I absolutely love that their stances mirror each other here. 

Now, we all saw the sneak peek before the episode aired, but it always surprises me again how Grey just goes in for the kill shot without warning. “I think you know how I feel about co-workers dating.” Yup, so they’re getting busted, right? And they think so, too. Look at how they immediately turn toward and look at each other. 

I won’t recite all of Grey’s speech here, but there are a few things that are pretty important. “How power dynamics can skew things” – that is for sure a not-so-subtle hint that they need to think about their obvious imbalance of power. And that he suspects there’s something happening between them. 

And watch their reactions to that. They’re clearly uncomfortable, Tim especially. Because he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s abusing his power to force Lucy into a relationship with him. We all know that’s not what’s happening, but people can be bitches. And they might also assume that she’s going to receive special treatment from him because she’s sleeping with him. 

The entire time Grey is talking, Tim and Lucy can’t seem to stand still. They keep fidgeting with their hands, looking at each other for reassurance. Waiting for the shoe to drop. 

“Feelings are bound to develop. But we can’t afford a hint of impropriety.” “We couldn’t agree more.” It’s we. They’ve been together a matter of days, but it’s already we instead of I. They’re in this together. No matter what. Tim isn’t letting her go because of some work issues. Have I mentioned that I love them? 

“Look. I don’t wanna be the old guy interfering with people’s lives. Especially their love life. But –“  Oh, here it comes. 

But then it doesn’t. Because for now, Grey is done with what he wanted to say; now, he’s switching gears. It’s no longer about Tim and Lucy, but Aaron and Celina. And it totally was about them before – he wouldn’t have had to talk about the power imbalance if it had been about Aaron and Celina from the start. 

Because, come on. He totally knows there’s something going on that wasn’t there before. He’s had a front row seat to Chenford since the day they met. He’s seen how they’ve evolved from rookie and TO who barely knew each other to best friends. He’s seen the looks and the glances. He’s seen how they’ve always gravitated toward each other, yet how distant they’ve been since Lucy came back from UC school. He saw how uncomfortable they were when he told them to ride together again. And suddenly they’re totally at ease with each other and smiling?

Yeah, he’s not blind. But he’s willing to let them be (for now) and come to him whenever they’re ready. Because they deserve to be happy. 

He’s seen them at their best and at their worst. But he’s never seen them at their happiest until now. So, he semi-subtly lets them know that they need to consider the work issue at some point, and rather sooner than later. For now though, he just wants them to talk to Aaron and Celina about the problems of dating a cop. 

He’s totally picked the right people for this… “Oh, the irony,” as Tim so eloquently puts it after they’ve agreed to talk to them and left Grey’s office. Also, I have to mention how they turned around to look toward Aaron and Celina in complete sync. They’re so in tune with one another… I love it. And he opened the door for her again. I love you, Tim. Yes, I know I know. You’re Lucy’s, but a girl can dream. 

They briefly talk about talking to Celina and Aaron and how awesome that’s going to be. “Can’t wait,” Tim says. Because that’s a disaster waiting to happen. He doesn’t talk about personal stuff in the shop unless it’s with Lucy. And Lucy can’t in good conscience talk to a fellow female officer about not dating a cop when she’s currently dating one herself. 

But Lucy wouldn’t be Lucy if she didn’t find a way anyway. So when she spots Nolan across the bullpen again, she immediately says she’ll get him to do it and walks off. Leaving Tim a bit annoyed, because “That’s cheating!” But Lucy doesn’t care and simply giggles as she walks away. 

Also: height difference! Lucy looks absolutely tiny next to Tim in this shot. Okay, she always does. But with the way she looks up at him, she looks shorter than usual. And I’m loving it. 

Update: I’m now eleven pages in and only halfway through the Chenford parts of the ep. No, I don’t have a problem at all. 

Moving along. Tim and Aaron are out patrolling. Tim looks over at him and gives in. He has to ask. Grey told him to. “You and Celina dating?” And Aaron is as surprised as anybody would be when Sergeant ‘no-personal-life-in-the-shop’ Bradford starts a conversation about personal stuff. 

I love these two together. And this scene does not disappoint, either. Aaron says it wouldn’t be a problem for him and Celina do date, as cops date all the time. But it’d be different if they were in the same chain of command. He points out all the issues I mentioned above: people assuming she’s dating an SO out of duress, him making decisions based on the relationship. In short: “It’d be a nightmare, man. One of us would probably have to transfer to a whole different station.”

And Tim’s super uncomfortable. Because that’s not where he saw the conversation going. He didn’t want to hear about all the issues he and Lucy inevitably have to deal with for the second time that day. He’s literally squirming in his seat, a bit of panic written all over his face before he deflects. “Forget I asked.” Conversation over. 

Because he still doesn’t really wanna think about the inevitable. He and Lucy can’t keep working together. No matter the fact that she’s no longer riding with him. He’s still her direct superior. Something will have to change. Again, that’s not something Tim’s a big fan of. 

Later on, after hell has broken loose, Tim and Lucy stand between a shop and the SWAT van, looking around, taking in the scene of chaos because one of the bank robbers has taken a hostage. This is now the problem they need to solve. But they take a brief moment to talk anyway. 

“Remember this morning? When dating in secret was our biggest problem?” Lucy asks while they’re surrounded by numerous cops. And body cams. Subtle, real subtle. “Feels like a million years ago.” “Yeah. Did you talk to Aaron?” “Ya.” “And?” “He neither confirmed nor denied.” “But?” “But, he pointed out that it wouldn’t be problematic because he’s not her superior and doesn’t fall in her chain of command.” 

“Oh.” Yes, Lucy looks a bit sad here. But I don’t think it’s because she’s scared he’ll break things off. He’s already made his decision when he asked her to dinner. Twice. It’s more about the fact that once again, she’s reminded that they won’t be able to continue working together anymore. And just like Tim, she’s not ready for that inevitable change yet. 

But as soon as Tim’s phone pings, alerting him that he has their hostages phone number, they’re both right back to business. Lucy doesn’t hesitate to back Tim up as they’re taking cover behind a shop door and he’s talking to the hostage and their bad guy. 

Despite all the issues pointed out by Grey and Aaron before, Lucy and Tim still manage work together seamlessly. They don’t let their relationship become an issue here. Lucy doesn’t tell Tim not to go ahead with his plan even though it’s dangerous and she’s scared for him. She knows he has to do his job. 

They’re both focused on the job.

Even when Tim and Aaron are dangling off a rooftop in their shop later that day, Tim is focused on his job. He’s not letting Aaron risk his life for him. But Aaron knows there’s something – someone – waiting for Tim to make it back safely. “You go out first. […] Sir, with all due respect, Lucy will kill me if I let you die, so I’m dead either way.” 

Aaron, I love you. He knows there’s something between them. He’s been the one closest to both of them in recent months, at least while on the job. He’s seen their interactions. And whether or not he’s aware they’re together now – he definitely has his suspicions – he knows one thing for certain: Tim and Lucy are in love. And willing to do anything for the other person. But he makes Aaron leave the shop first, anyway.

I know we all want cute, worried moments between Tim and Lucy and maybe expected one in this episode after that incident. But it makes sense not to show it, at least here. Because it emphasizes that they know the risks of the job. Just like they did with the hostage situation. Does that make it easier? No, of course not. They still worry about each other. But they don’t need those interactions after every near-death moment. 

(Would love to see some in the future, though. 5x18?)

Instead, it’s easy bantering here. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die. You owe me a re-do on our date.” “It’s what gave me the will to live.” Gave me the will to live. O. M. G. Timothy! In a moment when he was staring death in the face, he only thought about needing to make it out to take her on another date. She makes him want to live, people. She’s his reason to live. 

Okay, I really need to calm down before I keep writing. Wow. 

“In my mind I’m hitting you right now.” “That’s good to know.” Oh, how I love their bickering. They’re still them.

Despite all the professional issues that were not-so-subtly pointed out to them today, they still don’t seem to care much, yet. They’re gonna enjoy themselves before they have to worry about any of that somewhere down the line. So, second first date under what appear to be Christmas lights it is. Yes, I’m going with Christmas lights here because in my world, this date happened in late November/early December-ish. 

Because what is time in The Rookie universe? If they can’t keep a timeline, I’m making my own and running with it.

I swoon every time I watch this scene. 

It’s the way they sit together, each having one foot on the other’s chair. There’s no tension, they’re completely at ease and relaxed. It’s so perfectly them to not have this do-over at some other fancy restaurant but at a food truck instead. Is that a traditional place to have a date? No. But when have they ever done anything the ‘traditional’ way? 

Falling in love with your former rookie or TO is already pretty non-traditional. But it’s not like they could’ve stopped it from happening. 

“Streets of Vietnam. That’s where we ended up. So I guess this is our first date.” “Mh, last night was, for sure.” Wasn’t she the one to say they needed a re-do for their first date in the scene before this one? Now it’s suddenly not the first, but the second? Interesting, Lucy. I see ya. 

“I mean, it’s a better story for the grandkids.” Grandkids?! Lucy, you keep surprising me in the best way possible. They’ve been on one date that can barely count as such, and she’s already happy to talk about something that’s decades into the future. 

Because she sees a future with him. She wants that future. She already feels secure enough to know that that’s where they’re headed. And she’s totally fine with that. Lucy ‘commitment phobe’ Chen is ready to spend the rest of her life with Tim. And that thought just completely ruined me. Again. (One of these days, my family might just have to write ‘death by Chenford’ on my tombstone.)

And Tim is as surprised as I am. “We’ve got grandkids now? Nice.” I love this for him. Because now he knows for certain that that’s something in the future. Yes, again, they’re years, decades away from that. But Lucy just confirmed that that’s what she sees for them. That that’s what she wants with him. They just started dating, and she already can’t wait to tell the story to their grandkids. 

Tim will finally be able to have that future that he’s always dreamed of. He doesn’t have to settle for anything less than what he wants. 

And Lucy’s laugh after he says ‘nice’. Oh, she is the cutest. And look at him. Man, they’re just so happy. No, neither one of them was expecting to have this kind of conversation during their second date. Sometimes you just say things without thinking them through. But then you get an unexpected yet wonderful answer in return, and it doesn’t matter anymore.

Now the only thing that matters is that they’re already on the same page. 

He’s still smiling when he turns in his seat a bit and then sees nothing good. “Do not break into that car.” He’s so exasperated. He just wants to enjoy this little date with Lucy, can’t people leave them alone and commit their crimes somewhere else, far away from them? 

But instead of getting up to arrest the guy, he simply gets out his badge (again, he doesn’t seem to go anywhere without it) and yells: “Hey moron!” before showing off said badge, and effectively scaring the guy away. And I’m cackling at Tim’s disbelieving headshake. Because it’s so Tim. 

Lucy seems to be a little surprised that he would just let him get away without even trying. “You know he’s just gonna break into a car in a different neighborhood.” Because she knows that he’s usually cop first, everything else second. 

But, once again, like at the end of 5x08, Tim and Lucy are the only thing that matters in this moment. “Well, then some other cop can arrest him,” he says when they’re finally turned toward each other again. Tim Bradford letting a would-be car thief go so he can enjoy being with the woman he loves? 

Some things really do matter more. 

Look at him looking at Lucy with such adoration. Have we ever seen Tim look at her like this before? I know we have a few good moments prior to this, but this is a whole other level. He doesn’t have to hide anything anymore. He can finally show her how much he adores her. Because now he knows it’s reciprocated.

And it’s so beautiful. Because Tim fell in love. But he would’ve kept his feelings to himself for as long as he thought he was in it alone. Hell, he probably would’ve taken them to his grave if she hadn’t blurted out how she felt in 5x08. No matter how much he wanted to explore this thing with her, he was keeping his distance, because he couldn’t take another rejection; and she seemed happy. 

But now he gets to openly show his love. Or as openly as you can when you’re keeping a relationship a secret. But: he doesn’t have to hide it from her anymore. His cards are on the table, her cards are on the table. Hiding from each other and their feelings is in the past. 

He leans toward her, cradling the side of her face with one hand to close the distance. But he’s also giving her enough space and time to stop him if she’s not ready. But she is. They’re both ready to do this. Look at the way they both smile into that kiss. Urgh, they’re so cute. So in love. 

And, omg. Tim’s other hand on her thigh? He’s not really someone to show a lot of  affection, much less in public. But here he is, touching her wherever he can because, well, now he can. He’s allowed. No, he didn’t ask but he’s keeping it respectful and without making Lucy feel uncomfortable. 

She knows he’s not one to do this too much, so maybe she’s actually enjoying it quite a lot. She is, after all, a pretty physically affectionate person, which we’ll get so see even more in the episodes after this one. It’s definitely one of her love languages (damn, I already said this once, haven’t I?). So she probably loves that that’s reciprocated.

They finally close the distance and share their first kiss. Their first real kiss. The last first kiss they’ll ever have, because we all know this is for keeps. Nothing and no one will keep them apart, I am sure of it. They’ll face every and all challenges together from here on out. 

And it’s so different from all the kisses they shared under the guise of undercover work. It’s not as heated, not as tension filled, not as obviously passionate. But it’s so sweet, so romantic, so tender. And for once, it’s actually real. And filled with all the love they feel for one another.  

For me, this is the perfect first real kiss for Tim and Lucy. Nothing fancy, nothing over the top. Just the two of them enjoying themselves outside in front of a food truck in a super sweet and yet romantic setting. And no matter how many times I’ve seen this scene already, somehow it gets even sweeter with time. 

We’ve only gotten a tiny glimpse into the Chenford dating-era, but we can see throughout the entire episode that they’re still their bickering, teasing selves. And I love that for them. And here’s a semi-lengthy explanation as to why. 

Every once in a while, my mind just wanders to little Tim never getting the kind of love from his father that he deserved. How is a child supposed to know they’re worthy of love if they have to endure so much pain and abuse? 

He thought he’d found it in Isabel. But she broke his heart, too. She left him in pieces, arguably even more broken than ever before. 

Every relationship has given him reason to think he’s unlovable. That he’s not worthy. I admire this guy for risking his heart again with Lucy. Because it’s been used and abused so many times before. 

There’s always so much wonder in his eyes when he looks at her because a part of him still doesn’t fully believe that this kindhearted, empathetic ball of sunshine actually likes him as much as he likes her. 

And there’s the relief that he’s finally found the right person. The one who will love him unconditionally. The one who already does. The one who gets him like no one else has before. The one who doesn’t give up on him. The one who takes care of him even when he doesn’t want and has never asked her to. 

And Lucy. She hasn’t had an easy childhood either. Yes, it was completely different from Tim’s, but she has her own scars from the emotional trauma inflicted by her parents who’ve always made her feel like she wasn’t good enough. 

She said it herself once. Nothing she’s ever done was enough. Not her grades, her friends, her boyfriends, her professional choices, or any choice at all, it seems. 

And with her romantic partners it’s also been pretty devastating. No, she was never as invested as she could’ve been, because she’s never actually been in love. But there’s still some form of trauma from that, too. 

So letting herself love and be loved is as difficult for her as it is for Tim. And yet, it happened. Because Tim has never made her feel like she’s not enough. Yes, he constantly challenged her and made her doubt herself as a rookie, but that was necessary in order for her to become a good cop. It was to help her be better, not belittle her like her parents did. 

She’s basically been taught to second guess every decision she’s ever made since she was a child. But Tim’s let her learn to believe in herself and her abilities. “You don’t let anyone ever tell you you can’t do something,” he said to her on her last day of training.  

Because he knows she’s capable. It took some time, but he’s learned to trust her abilities and her choices. He’s simply learned to trust her. With everything. And more than he’s ever trusted anyone else before. 

Sure, they’ve had their ups and downs, and he’s been an ass toward her in the beginning when he was lost, but ultimately, she knows she can trust him with everything, too. 

Because, just like she is for him, he’s the one who gets her like no one has before. Who takes care of her no questions asked. Who believes in her. Who doesn’t give up on her. Who loves her in a way she’s never been loved before. 

They both have enough reasons to not let themselves trust anyone with their heart. And yet, here they are, together. Completely at ease and truly happy for the first time in forever, maybe their whole lives.  

Because they’ve earned each other’s trust; tiny brick by tiny brick by tiny brick, they’ve let themselves trust each other and fall in love.

Finally, they’re with the one person who they can be themselves with. Who won’t judge. Who will support them and stay by their side no matter what. Who they can trust wholeheartedly. Who accepts and loves them the way they are. They’re finally with their person. They don’t have to change to be and make each other inexplicably happy. 

If soulmates do exist, Tim and Lucy definitely found theirs in each other. And I admire them for doing this together.

My everlasting gratitude to everyone who took some time out of their day to read, comment, reblog and/or like my Chenford thesis on 5x08. You’ve made it so much easier for me to use my recently found inspiration and keep writing. I hope this lives up to expectations and you enjoy this as much as the one for 5x08. And as always, a special thank you to @escapismqueen for her patience as I complained about my writer’s block (wow, I can actually say that now), asked questions about grammar because English is confusing, and for encouraging me to keep writing in the first place. Hope this is a nice little surprise for you tonight. 

[bahbzxxx]

A Barbz Brainrot~🤍

Still thinking about Venti and a composer/performer windblume ngl~🎶

Maybe you meet him at the Irodori festival, later at night at Ritou, a light and pleasant breeze enveloping you as you sit on the dock, facing the sea. Most people have turned in for the night except for you and a most peculiar green clad bard who had caught you humming to yourself, notebook and pen in hand, trying to create a melody to accompany the harmony you had composed.

"I don't think I've seen someone write music without a lyre in ages! Ehe..." He chuckles, you trying to compose yourself and be rid of the bright pink dust on your cheeks. It's surprising how you managed to not fall into the water.

"Uhm, yes! Yeah, I'm not...I'm not that good with a-a lyre...to be honest?" You say awkwardly to the stranger with pretty braids and a flower you don't think you've seen before in his hair.

"Aha...I'm just messing with you. But if you've ever stepped foot in Mondstadt..."

He gives you a cheeky smile and takes out a lyre, prettier than you had thought one could be.

"You'd know exactly what I mean."

"So I take it you're from Mondstadt?" You ask, already able to match his energy for some reason.

He daintily strums the lyre, his face turning into a posh smirk. "Guilty as charged."

As you laugh softly into your hand, you take more notice of his features. You could have sworn you could have seen him before...

"So!" He announces as he plops down right beside you. "What's a little poet like you doing all alone out here? It may not seem like it, but the night is still so young!"

"Oh...no no no, I'm not a poet, see, this is just a bunch of nonsense and vomit in the form of what I like to call "lyrics." You anxiously giggle, already alert of his emerald eyes dangerously eyeing up the journal stuffed with sheet music in your lap with a growing chaotic excitement.

"I-im also a bit shy when it comes to performing and the like, so..."

"Why? You've got one of the most beautiful voices I've heard since I've been here! And trust me-there is way too much talent here."

Your heart skips a beat.

"But I wasn't even-"

"Don't be silly, humming counts." He says sing-songingly.

"Well, I- uhm, thank you, Mr. Bard." You finally give in, a small blush dusting your cheeks.

"Ah, that's more like it." He sighs with a relaxed smile on his face.

...

He looks at you expectantly, knowing what you're going to ask him.

"I'm sure your voice is lovely too! Uhm... Mr...Bard...uhm... Wouldnt you prefer if I called you anything else?"

"Other than the 3x winner of 'Best Bard of Mondstadt?" He can't help but laugh at how your mouth forms an o shape.

He leans over and props his elbow on his knee, raising his eyebrows dramatically. "You, Cecelia, may call me "Venti."

He leans a little closer, shoulder to shoulder with you, and gives dramatic jazz hands. "Venti the Bard..."

You try to do the jazz hands along with him, but you just can't help but look at him in awe. Was he bluffing? Sure he was kind of flamboyant, but...

"Allow me to soothe your troubled mind~a Cecelia is a flower from Mondstadt...personally my favorite, but..."

You're still staring at him, kinda confused.

"ah, I see." He smiles. "A flower is a plant that grows out of the ground! It's got pretty peeetaals, and steeemmms, and-"

You lightly bop him on his head so his hat falls slightly over his face. "Not that!"

He fixes up his hair as he smiles goofily at you. "I'm just messing with ya!"

"it's just that your...are you actually..."

"What? Don't trust me?"

"No, no! I-"

"I'll have you know that I have a multitude of compositions to my name, thank you very much!" He playfully yells, whipping out some sort of book and flipping the pages so they all brush against your nose. You crinkle your nose and close your eyes, trying to stifle your giggles. Who even is this person?

"Here. Hold my lyre for a moment." He says, plopping his pretty lyre in your lap softly before thoroughly digging through his music.

"Mein Frühlung is a dear thing, but she's seen some things. Feel free to play a little bit! Go on! We've a performance in a while, she needs a good warm up."

"Why so late?" You ask, letting your fingers delicately grace the strings of the lyre.

"I told you. The night is still is still so young. Taverns are thriving, and the locals have not even had an ounce of their fair share of Mondstadt music."

"I suppose that makes sense. Also isn't tonight one of the nights where performers get free drinks or can at least guarantee someone's gonna buy a drink for them?"

"Oh! That's even better...hehehe..." The Bard recalls deviously as he seems to have located the music he was looking for.

"Alright, cecelia~ I'm gonna prove to you that I can make pretty music too, just like you~"

"I don't doubt you, "Mr Venti the Bard." You giggle as you look at the music now laying in your lap. He takes the lyre from you, and then already looks prepared to play.

"Ready?!”

You look back up at him as he adjusts himself to the key. “Wait, what?!!!”

He huffs. “Well, how will you know if you like my music if you haven’t sung it?”

“But-“

“And it’s a dueeettttt~”

“Wait, really?”

“Sure is, silly! Now… top or bottom? Both voice parts are closer in range to each other, but the top is definitely the main melody for most of the song. Personally I think you could go either way, but I kind of want your voice to stand out…”

You giggle, still in disbelief that he’s actually getting you to sing. “Okay, fine~ I’ll take the melody. It looks quite pretty.”

He smiles warmly and doesn’t waste time in playing a delicate intro to his piece.

The first verse belongs to him-his voice catches you off guard with how smooth and soft it is. There was something so unique about it too. You had heard so many male performers with beautiful voices, but there was just something so different about Venti’s. It was almost as if it were the wind itself-so innocent and free, yet it knew all the secrets of the world. Before you can get too lost in the beauty, his eyes lock with yours, cueing you in.

Now it’s his turn to hear your gift. You’re sight-reading~ he knows this. It doesn’t phase him one bit when your voice is a bit shakey. He doesn’t understand how you could be so nervous with a beautiful and consistent voice like yours. It’s so distinct, but just fits perfectly. Something about it resonates with him…but he’s going to contain his excitement so he doesn’t ruin your flow.

When your voices meet in the chorus, it’s a dance. Two beautiful voices intermingling and breathing life your waltz, only supported by a harmony of arpeggiated chords on the lyre. When you repeat the chorus one last time, the bard decides to play the chords together-one reason being variety, the other just being…it feels right.

The last chord settles, and all you can do is look into the bards eyes. You had no idea someone could sing like that…even with such a simple song, he put so much life into it.This clearly wasn’t a gig just for money, or a silly title like “Best Bard of Mondstadt” to him.

“Well, what do you say?” He says, cocking his head. “Is it worth my title?”

“That was so pretty…how did you make that all by yourself?”

He chuckles. “Well, I can’t take all the credit…your voice truly is something, my dear.”

You put your hands on your cheeks. “Oh please… even then, I didn’t write it!

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, gently strumming his lyre.

“I mean-“

“Ah. You’ve never played a lyre. I’d love to teach you!”

“That’s not what I meant…but wait, you’d do that?”

He puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you allow him to pull you slightly closer.

“Of course I would! You’re already clearly a talented musician, so it wouldn’t be too much trouble-just a lot of dedication on your part.”

He takes your hand with his free hand and inspects it. “And you’ve got some good hands, by the way. They would be perfect for lyre playing.”

You blush deeply, eyes widening at the out of pocket compliment. “Uhm, thank you!”

“So, how would I repay you? I’m far from rich, but I’ll do anything to return your kindness!”

He smiles cheekily, his cheeks turning slightly red. “Ehe~”

“Mr. Venti the Bard?”

“So…first of all, may I have your name? We’ve a deal to strike.”

“Oh dear…”

“Come on, come on! You just said…” he says.

“It’s (y/n).” You respond with a huge nervous smile. With this bard, he could be asking anything.

He takes your hands in his. “Well, fair (y/n)… in exchange for me taking you under my wing, would you be willing to do me a few favors from…time to time?”

You still are smiling, eyes now closed. “What type of favors?”

“Ehe~”

Archons help me.

“So… remember that performance I was talking about?” He asks, twirling his braid in his fingers.

“Yes…you were referring to you and you’re lyre, right?”

He just smiles. It’s a very pretty smile.

“Right?”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Oh archons, I should have known!” You say, laughing nervously into your hands.

“Please (y/n)? I promise, I know what a beautiful voice is. I’ve been there and done that, I have a lot of experience! More than you would think!” He begs. He gently takes your hands back into his own.

“I’m gonna mess it up…”

“No you’re not! And even if you do, nobody has a clue. Only me. And I think the performance has much more to do with quality rather than memorization and using the score as a script…okay?”

…

“Pretty please?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” You ask shyly.

He holds out his pinkie to you. “I promise.”

The deal was made, and he instantly pulls you up with him and links his arm with yours.

“I’m so happy you’ve decided to join me!” He says, beaming. “Now let’s go!”

"Its now?

“Archons help you…”

[theoreticslut]

「 dreaming of you in italy 」

remus lupin x fem reader

summary: you see remus for the first time since graduation when you visit james and lily after harry’s birth.

requested: yes

word count: 0.77k

warnings: mentions of a baby, mentions of wanting to marry & have kids, mutual pining, awkward idiots, love confession

a/n: it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written for harry potter, but i really liked this one. i feel like it’s kinda left off weird, but i truly had no idea how to continue it. hopefully you guys like it Xx

It’s been a few years since you’ve seen all your friends, life having gotten in the way for all of you. Ever since the five of you graduated three years ago, you’ve all been going your separate ways. At least you have.

Lily and James have been together since seventh year, and are now welcoming a baby into the world - little Harry, who looks so much like his father but with your best friend’s eyes. He was adorable, and you can’t help but thank Merlin that you could be here for this.

“Precious, isn’t he?” Lily asks, sitting down in the chair beside you.

“Very. I’m so happy for you, Lil.” 

There’s no stopping the smile that fills your face as you play with Harry, cooing at him as he grasps your fingers. You’ve always found kids adorable, and at one point planned on having some with a partner. Since graduation though, you’ve been so focused on work and just trying to make a living for yourself that you’ve completely pushed aside the thought of romance. Hell, it’s been years since you’ve even been out on a date.

It probably doesn’t help that you’ve still got this stupid crush from school. You haven’t even seen the man since the two of you graduated, and yet he fills your mind day and night. It’s infuriating, but you also don’t completely hate it. It gives you an excuse for not dating, which has gotten your coworkers off your back.

“Pads and Moony should be here shortly. You can stay for a while, can’t you?” Lily asks, chuckling lightly as she takes in your wide eyes.

“It’ll be fine, y/n. I promise. They’ve missed you.” 

“I-I’ve missed them. Things have just been so busy that I-“

“I know. They do too. Rem’s been busy himself. Did you know he’s been in Italy the last few months?”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Been studying something, but don’t ask me what. I can’t ever remember.” She chuckles, smiling as she gets up from her seat.

“He’ll be excited to see you.” She promises before leaving the room, heading back to the kitchen where James’ has been.

~.~

“Y/n?” 

Looking up from where you sat at the kitchen table, you can’t help the little smile that settles on your lips as you find Remus studying you.

“Hi, Rem. Been awhile.”

You watch as he breathes out a puff of air, shaking his head as he smiles at you.

“It has. Too long, I’d say. How…how have you been?” He questions, setting his jacket down as he carefully makes his way over to you, sitting himself in a chair.

“I’ve been…good. Been busy with work. It hasn’t left much time for anything else really.”

“How have you been, though? Lily mentioned you’ve been in Italy recently?” You question, feeling awkward as you’re not sure what to talk about. 

It was easy in school. You had classes and extracurriculars you could talk about. There were the monthly trips to Hogsmeade and the quidditch matches you could spend together. 

As adults, though, you find yourself unsure where to start. It’s obvious that you’ve both changed, but you can’t tell if that’s changed your friendship any.

“Yeah. Yeah! It’s been good. It’s beautiful over there. You really should see it someday.” He smiles, rapping his fingers against the table as he watches you.

“Maybe someday I can. Not sure I’d like to go alone though. How…how did you manage it?”

You watch as he seems to blush, smile widening as he drops his head slightly. He’s embarrassed. You’re not sure why he would be though.

“C-can I let you in on a little secret of mine?” 

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, shifting closer to him as he does the same.

“I, uhm, I thought about this girl I’ve had a crush on for…godric, years.”

A soft ‘oh’ falls from your lips, taking his admission as him saying he likes another girl. Not you, like you kind of always hoped he did.

“Yeah. The thought of you made me smile throughout the day, and gave me the best dreams at night.” He murmurs, cheeks tinted pink as he watches you.

“Me? But…you?”

“Yeah…I, uh, I kinda like you, y/n. Have since sixth year.” 

You can’t stop the smile that lights up your face at his words. He’s liked you. He likes you, and in the same way you like him. 

Maybe foregoing dating these past few years has been worth it. Even if you had been using your crush on Remus as an excuse, at least you don’t have anyone else in your sights.

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

pls like & reblog if you enjoyed!

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strikethrough means i can’t tag you!

[loonafear]

MASTERLIST - STUDY PARTNER + WRITTEN

P / N

SYNOPSIS ; kim Minji, also known as your best friends science partner, has taken a strong liking towards you, will you notice? Are your feeling the same? How will she confess? Do you accept ...?

As Minji ran all around the school trying to look for a 'safe'space from Danielle and her phone she was stopped, by a familiar voice calling out to her. "HEY MINJI!!?" She turned to see her study partner also known as Eunchae.

"Hey, uh who are you running from?" Eunchae said tilting her head as it would help for a better understanding, but just before Minji could answer her eyes were now glued to the taller figure standing behind her partner. While Minji continued to stare a low voice called "HEY Y/N DON'T JUST LEAVE ME WITH THAT GIRL, SHES WEIRD!!!". Snapping her out of her trance she focused her attention on the VERY elegant male rushing towards who she assumed was you.

"Blame eunchae shebsaid she saw her partner running so I followed ... I may have assumed there was a fight". Minji smiled at hot stupid this whole situation was, as if it was big enough to be considered one that is. Gaining enough courage to speak Minji cleared her throat and said "Sorry my friend saw me waiting and the spot I was in wasn't .. well y'know, ideally the best spot to wait for someone". There was a few second of silence but to Minji it felt like years, as if all eyes were in her. In her mind she was embarrassed, why? She doesn't even know herself or maybe it was because you were around that got her like this.

You laughed causing your two friends to join you in your random outburst of laughter. "Yeah meeting by a trash can is kinda weird haha" you said making eunchae nod her head. "So what do you say we leave before the principal sees us?"

(you don't have to read this part, ur just getting chased by a dog 💀)

With that the group of highschool students head off to Minji's house with her leading the way also giving directions if they stay over again. Stoping to admire some of the scenery that you haven't seen before seeing how none of you live in her neighborhood. Just before you cause all make the turn to her place a a low and angry growl could be heard in the bush leading to the next street. In fear Minji stops and takes a step back causeing you to become confused "uhm why'd you stop?" You asked eager to know about the situation up ahead.

Another fierce growl was heard, the rest heard too causing eunchae to take a step back backing into you on accident, unaware of your foot she steps on it causing you to wince in pain and kneel to the ground. And with the the animal rushes out of the bush straight towards you at full speed, soobin who noticed pulls you up with his left arm before saying to the other girls "RUN !!" using his right to signal them to hurry and pick up the pace.

Still you not realizing what's going on as soon as you see the small black figure moving as fast as the speed of light you make your way out of soobin's arm and run on your own. Soo bin who is leading you all around in a neighborhood in wich he has knowledge of seems to be taking all the sharp and fast turns making it hard for you to keep up still managing to turn fast enough where your still by his side ... Almost.

Meanwhile the two other girls were running as fast as they can from the dog, noticing that it seems that they have zero to no kind of advantage when it comes to getting away from this angry animal.

"Hey Minji have you seen this dog before?!" Eunchae yelled to the girl who's slowly falling behind. "Uh, yeah ... His name ... Is Bentley... his owners, never have him .... On a.. leash" eunchae scoffs at the fact that his owners are so careless when it comes to their pet. After the small conversation with the two girls a loud noise can be heard from behind them making the dog stop and stare before returning to the group of highschool kids.

Eunchae noticing the dog lose it's focus on them she's come up with an Idea to keep the dog away. In her mind it may not work but it will have to do with that knowledge eunchae gets right into her plan and manages to take off her shoe while running for her life, she turns around and tosses the shoe at the dog as any type of way to steal it's attention.

And ...

Surprisingly .... It worked now your all in some randoms yard all hot and sweaty, heavy breathing and fanning each other off. Minji looked up and realizes they ran in a circle "guys ... Uhm we made it ." She says pointing at her house the others look at her the to where she's pointing at. "C'mon let's go in IM HOT" eunchae yells and she drags her feet to the other side of the road.

"Nice place" you said to her looking deep into her eyes, since that's what your parents taught you. With that Minji looked away just in time. to hide her burning red face from you and the others, soon after she leads you all into two story brick building. "Sorry it's a mess that won't bother you guys right ...?" "No not at all" you said smiling at the smaller girl. Everyone finds a place to sit Minji on her bed, Soobin on the floor with a pillow with you and eunchae in the desk chair.

Time skip

("EUNCHAE PLEASE IF ANYTHING YOU WERE SACRED")

While in the middle of studying Soobin laughs turning all attention to him. "What?" You asked confused just as the others "I just realized how stupid we all looked running from that dog" he laughs louder this time causing his head to fly back while clapping his hands together, with a single tear falling down his eye.

"Yeah did you see how fast y/n was going, if felt like an action movie" the others burst out laughing crating a distraction giving you the opportunity to throw the pillow you were once Sitting on at her face. "EUNCHAE PLEASE IF ANYTHING YOU WERE SACRED" you said obviously annoyed at your friends teasing, you roll your eyes and continued your work. Minji laughs at eunchae mimicking you and your run without you noticing but what caught your attention was soobin's laugh and palm striking your shoulder.

You looked up to see eunchae "HEY AT LEAST I HAVE BOTH MY SHOES" all of your laughs filled the room jokes and snacks were thrown around, all of you had a good time till you had to go it was getting dark and none of you wanted to witness that dog again.

"You guys coming over again tomorrow?." Minji says losing all of her shyness from when you first met "I mean only if you want" you said looking at your two friends and nodding along with them. "Great ... oh also uh, can I get you guy's numbers?" After you all exchanged numbers with Minji you left not before you gave her a hug and whispered something that set her heart into a spiral.

"Thanks , I really had fun today see you tomorrow?" She nods and waves you three off before closing her door and settling in for the night.

None of you know how you still managed to be able to study right after running from a angry dog but you made it.

Taglist ; @yumtooki @captivq

I feel like this was so poorly written PLEASE tell me if it was 😭

[fictionismyreality]

No thoughts but you

Frankie x mid size/plus size reader Hi hi, this is a little something from Frankies pov I wrote a couple of days ago I want to share with you. Comments and reblogs are appreciated if you like what you read :) Summary: Frankie and the guys are at the bar and Frankie cannot stop thinking about you. Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of sex, the guys being kinda dicks but good friends, a lot of Frankies thoughts Words: <3.000

----

„Yo, Fish! Fish!“, Santi yelled and Frankie shook his head to come back to reality. „You want another beer?“

„Where have you been with your ugly head lately, hm?“, Benny asked while looking around the bar, constantly scanning for girls. 

Frankies mind was far, far away. He hasn’t told anybody, wanted to keep this thing a secret until he was sure it was leading somewhere. All those interfering opinions were no good, he knew that. 

„Yeah, another one, please“, he said and Santi eyed him suspiciously. He always knew when something was different with his best friend. He turned around and went over to the bar. 

Frankies thoughts started to wander again. It was a lot to take in, to wrap his head around. 

It started a couple of days ago as you asked him if there was space for you next to him on the bench by the playground. One glance from him into your face was enough. Frankie would have sat on the floor or made a new bench out of a tree just for you to have a seat. He knew he had it bad the moment he saw you, which was why he wasn’t able to say a word and just gestured for you to sit. You smiled and did exactly that while Frankie used his military training to check you out without your knowledge (he hoped at least): sparkling eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest room, your curves soft and inviting. Not Wills type, for sure, who was more for sporty girls. No, Frankie appreciates curves, he loves to explore a body full of - as most women call it - imperfections: Moles, birthmarks, stretch marks, freckles, scars… a body, that tells a story, that is living feely and made experiences, that appreciates gentle touches and can take it a bit rougher in between, that… Frankies mind wandered over to a place where it shouldn’t.

What was wrong with him? He hasn’t even said a word to you but he already pictured you naked on his bed, wringing and panting. He breathed in a bit too loud. „Everything alright?“, you asked and looked over to him, one eye closed and your hand in front of your forehead to look into his eyes and avoiding the sun. 

Fuck, you are so cute. 

„Uhm, yes… it’s just so hot today“, Frankie said, happy about being able to construct one full sentence. 

You chuckled. „Yeah, I don’t know how they do it.“ „Who?“ „The kids“, you answered. „They run around the whole day, jumping, screaming, laughing and still manage to have fun while we sit here and sweat.“

Sweat. His eyes flickered to your cleavage where he spotted indeed little droplets of sweat that disappeared between the curves of your boobs. 

„Which one is yours?“, Frankie asked suddenly, his body and mind in survival mode. 

„The blonde one over there. Her name is Polly. She’s my goddaughter.“, you explained. „Yours is the one over there, isn’t she?“

Frankie followed your pointed finger and spotted his daughter in the roundabout. „Yes, that’s my girl. Luisa. How do you know?“ You smiled. Was there a bit of blush on your cheeks?

„She’s got your curls and brown eyes, so… I figured.“

Frankie looked down between his feet, smiling to himself. 

„Here you are, man“, Santi said and placed another beer on the table in front of Frankie, which cleared his head in an instant. 

„Real talk, man. What’s wrong?“, Will asked. 

„Nothing“, Frankie mumbled and sipped on his beer. The other three looked confused. 

„If you have problems with co-“ „Fuck Benny, no! Jesus…“, Frankie hissed and shook his head. „You know I’m clean. Don’t you?“ „Yeah, sure. Sorry, Bro.“ Benny looked taken aback. 

„Look, Fish. I know you since childhood. I know when something is on your mind. Just spit it out. We are here to help.“, Santi offered and Frankie smiled weakly. 

„Yeah man, I know. Thanks, but there is nothing to help. Really, I am fine.“

He does not want to discuss you. He does not want to share that he somehow managed to get your number, messaged you the same evening and went out with you twice: The first time was last Tuesday, two days after you met at the playground. Frankie met you at the bowling center, where you surprised him by bowling much better than he thought - his plan was to show you the technique and help you with some throws like they do in those romcoms he sometimes watches when he stumbles upon one. But you did not need it. It was a tough duel and Frankie was sweating blood and tears while trying his best to not let you win. Your competitive mindset as you found out you were both at the same level was something he liked about you: You did not pretend to be bad at bowling just to make him feel better or to fit some outdated cliché. You were yourself, you showed your strengths and you were not afraid. 

After two rounds - the first one was won by Frankie, the second one by you - you walked to a small bar close to the beach and talked while drinking and enjoying the sunset. Frankie later drove you home and kissed your cheek goodbye while your hands rested on his chest, right above his pounding heart. It was the smile you gave him before you went inside he was currently thinking about. 

„I’m gonna go take a piss“, he suddenly announced, surprised by this idea. He wriggled out of the booth and slowly strolled over to the toilets. His mind wandering again. 

For the second date, he chose the drive-in theatre. He wasn’t planning one of those rom-com moves again, because he knew better than that by now and he just wanted to surprise you with a nice evening. So he prepared his truck with blankets, cushions and snacks, and parked it somewhere in the back since it was one of the biggest cars in front of the screen. 

You were smiling the whole time. He was so happy about that. What movie did they play? Frankie does not remember. He was occupied with stealing glances over to you, memorizing how your eyes were illuminated by the lights from the screen and how your leg suddenly lay next to his. Then you adjusted the cushions behind your back and Frankie remembered how he raised his arm and you nuzzled into him. Could you hear how his heart was beating when your ear rested on his chest? He put down his beer and took your hand in his, slowly caressing your knuckles and fingers. None of you said a word. That wasn’t the point anyway. Not now. 

Frankie washed his hands and took a deep breath. You were making him crazy. He knew you for just a week, you had some contact outside of your dates, life is busy for him with his daughter and his job, your job wasn’t easy either. It was fine. But he wanted more. He couldn’t wait to see you again. 

Slowly he went back to the boys, worried looks all around the table. Did he looked so depressed while he was thinking of you? What did Benny say about his face when he isn’t interested in joining the chatter about his newest companion for the night? RBF? Whatever this means…

„What now?“, you asked as the movie ended, looking up at him. He wanted to remember this moment like he wanted it with every other moment tonight: How your face looked from so close, the angle from down there tucked into his shoulder. Frankie had an idea as he saw the sparkles in your eyes. 

„I could drive us somewhere.“, he whispered, smiling down at you.

„To where?“ 

„Do you trust me? I would like to surprise you.“

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. „Fine.“ 

Frankie helped you climb out of the bed of the truck, your beautiful dress somehow rid up a bit and he could see the backside of your thighs. He needed to calm down. Frankie jumped down and opened the door for you to help you in. Even though you were strong minded and a feminist, things he really appreciates, you enjoyed his efforts to be a gentleman. He held out his hand and you took it to step up into his truck. Those butterflies. He could get used to this. 

„Okay man, enough is enough.“, Santi said the moment he had downed his beer. „You are not engaging in any conversation, you are not even recognizing that chick over there who nearly followed you into the bathroom because she’s got the hots for you and you haven’t touched your beer. What the fuck is wrong, Fish?“

„Nothing!“, Frankie said, now a bit louder than before. „Really, nothing is wrong.“

Will smirked. „I know what happened.“ A big smile on his face, he leaned in closer over the table and whispered: „You got laid.“

Santi whistled while Benny made something that resembled the sounds of a cat. „Fish got himself some pussy.“

Frankie shook his head in disbelief and took a big gulp of his beer. Now he needed it. 

„No, i did not.“

„Of course you did!“, Santi said. „When I mentioned that woman you did not even look for her, because you are fucking someone else. Who is she?“

No one said a word for a couple of moments and Frankie sighed. He knew when he was defeated. 

The moment he wanted to give up, tell them enough so they shut up, his phone vibrated and the screen lit up for everyone to see. 

I cannot stop thinking about last night xx

Frankie smiled, his dick twitched in his pants. He couldn’t either. 

„What happened last night? Did you fuck her from every angle?“, Benny asked, always the one for the dirty details. 

„No, I know my man“, Santi laughed and throw one arm around Frankies shoulder. „You treated yourself and ate her out again and again. Classical Fish, right?“ 

Frankie sighed. Partly because he was frustrated, partly because yes, Santi knew him too well: He loves to go down. He would love to go down on you. But that is not what happened yesterday. 

„Okay, guys. There is this girl…“, he started and everyone was listening, waiting for the dirty details. But Frankie did not provide them. Those memories were his and he decided what to share. For now, he wasn’t comfortable to share more than necessary for them to shut up. 

„Okay, let me get this straight“, Benny concluded. „You met her on the playground, went bowling for the first date and then for the drive-in cinema for the second date. And then you drove her home?“ Frankie drank a sip and nodded. 

„No pussy?“, Santi wanted to know with sad big eyes and a pout in his face. 

„No pussy.“, Frankie confirmed. „I did not eat her out. But I will see her again next week. Luisa and I will meet her and her goddaughter for a playdate on the playground again, some ice cream after. I just want to get to know her.“ 

Frankie couldn’t contain his smile, how hard he tried. 

„You know what, Frank? That sounds good.“, Will said and gave him a high five.

„Thanks man, I appreciate it.“

„Yes, it does.“, Pope joined into the consensus. „But still: Some pussy would have been nice, though.“

Frankie rolled his eyes. 

„But what is not can be“, Benny said and went over to the bar to grab another round. 

Later, after Frankie drove Santi home and laid in his bed, he allowed himself to think back to last night: 

After you hopped into his truck, he drove you through the night while listening to your thoughts about the movie, occasionally nodding so you know he was listening, even though it was too much: Following the conversation while driving was something he can handle, but seeing you gesture so cutely with your hands, your bare legs dangling over the seat, the hem of your dress ridden high up over your knee while your chest was breathing normal, which caused a heaving of your tits. It was too much and Frankie was happy when you arrived at the destination. 

There was this spot, he found it once when when he was wandering around to get his mind off things. A spot just further down the road than all the tourists go. Even though the beach was nearly empty around this time of the day, not many people drove the extra mile. But from here, you could watch over the horizon without the light of the lighthouse, you could also lay in the bed of Frankies truck and gaze into the sky. „Come on“, he said as he opened your door and took your hand to guide you back to the bed again. You smiled brightly, exactly what he hoped for. A fight between you and the stars - who’s beaming more? 

You. 

Both of you sat down into the same position as in the drive-in. It feels so natural, Frankie thought as he threw the blanket over the two of you and drew you closer to him. 

„Warm enough?“, he whispered and you nodded. 

„Yes, just my legs are a bit cold.“, you said and bent them, which caused them to brush along his legs and warm hand. As Frankie felt your cold, soft flesh, he reacted instantly and let his hand wander up and down from the middle of your shins until directly over your knee. You let it happen, Frankie was relieved as you shuffled around and cuddled closer to him. 

His left hand not leaving your shoulder while his right took care of your legs. Your hands were free, what explained the shiver that went through Frankies body as they searched for contact: Your left hand roamed over his abdomen, caressing the soft flesh. Before Frankie could think about his tummy and that you were probably stopping in disgust, he felt your other hand in his excuse of a beard. 

„I like you beard“, you whispered as if you could read his mind.

„Hmm?“, was all he managed, because as he leaned down to look at you, your eyes were even more sparkly than before. How was this even possible?

The stars were nothing against you. 

„It’s so natural and just… there. A part of you.“

„Isn’t it itchy when you touch it like that?“, he asked, his hand stopped the wanderings on your leg and just laid on your thigh. 

„It is“, you whispered again, as if it would be too dangerous to talk louder. „But I like that very much. It’s sexy.“ 

Oh, Fuck.

Frankie lowered his head to rest his forehead onto yours. He hummed softly, tried to get lost in the moment for a bit, just you and him and the stars and the sea and the breeze. Then he nuzzled your nose with his, while the hand on your leg squeezed it a little more for you to let out the cutest gasp he has ever heard. 

„Can I kiss you, bebita?“, he whispered softly and you shuddered in anticipation. 

„Yes.“

The little gap between your lips was closed in an instant and Frankie felt lips softer than he could have ever imagined. It felt so good kissing you that a little moan erupted inside of him that reached the surface, which caused you to gasp, reach for the collar of his jacket and drew him closer to you. Frankie moved his lips in a dance with yours for a couple of moments before he stopped, his left hand now cradling your face and his big brown eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. Then he went for it again, he had to. So soft. When you moaned again and your finger slipped under his collar he was done for it and opened his lips to part yours, so his tongue made an appearance that was more than welcomed by yours. 

Your whole body reacted to it. You clang yourself onto him, slid down onto your back so that Frankie was above you. His lips moved to your neck while his hands roamed your legs and caressed your hair. 

Frankie sighed when he thought about it. His dick was hard under the thin fabric of his shorts. It was mostly very romantic and he loved getting to know you in that way, but he cannot deny the sexual effect It had on him. He couldn’t wait to continue where you two left off. Maybe after the playground next week when Luisa is asleep, you wanted to continue this? A smiled spread across his face as he grabbed his phone to finally answer you: 

Me neither, bebita. Can I kiss you again when we see each other? 

Frankie put the phone back onto his night stand and turned around to sleep. 

He did not lie to the guys. He did not get any pussy last night. Did he want to? Sure. When you were in for it, he was as well. But when he thinks back now, nothing was missing. 

It was a perfect night.

[samwearsreebok]

Sam x Leah

Forewarning: I wrote this while drunk and in my feels about Sam and leahs breakup. Its pretty much gibberish

I was still trying to sort out what to do when I heard the most beautiful voice ever, "sir, are you ok?"

I turned around to see my gorgeous girl staring at me with concern in her eyes, as if she'd never seen anyone so torn apart before. She probably hadn't. In fact, I bet no one had ever looked like this to her before. Her long dark hair flowed down past her shoulders and covered half of her face. She was so beautiful. The way the light caught in her locks made them look almost luminescent. She wore a white dress shirt, tie, slacks, and high heels that matched the occasion perfectly. I almost forgot this was my engagement party. Leah could hold a candle to any woman's beauty.

"Hey honey" leah said as she walked over to us.

"Hi" I managed between breaths. I gave her a weak smile.

She smiled back, but it wasn't quite genuine.

"Let me help you up sir," emily but in putting her hand under my arm. "So you must be Sam, leah wasn't exaggeration, you are beutiful!" She enthused.

"Thanks, you're pretty cute yourself," I muttered as I got to my feet. My knees were still shaking from the shock. I took a deep breath and tried to get myself together.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" Leah asked it must be obvious how weird I felt. Like my whole world just turned inside out. I couldn't figure out why.

It was like when I'd first seen Leah and she was dressed up for the prom. Except then I knew her and was interested, or at least attracted to her. But now...now I didn't know what to think anymore. I think this officially made me worse than my father.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, uhm...thanks." I replied nervously. Leah just stared at me, not sure what to say. I'd been acting really strange since i first turned, i knew that much. Becoming a werewolf then keeping it a secret from everyone isn't the easiest thing. Especially not when everyone is watching you, waiting for you to go crazy again and need to be but away. So I could understand her confusion. I hoped emily wouldnynpick up on her confusion.

Emily broke the silence finally, "i hope we can be friends"

"Sure," I replied, trying my best to sound normal. It wasn't easy. "I don't have many friends in this town. I feel kinda left out at the moment."

"That's sad," she said sadly as she looked into my eyes.

I turned and started walking towards the kitchen, hoping they'd make me some food. My stomach was growling loudly. I'd not eaten anything all day. All morning I'd been too nervous, then I'd gotten sick. I wasn't sure I could eat at all right now.

Leah grabbed my arm, stopping me before I got far. "Sam, are you sure you're alright? You seem kind of..." I watched as her words trailed off.

"What?" I asked.

"You know," she said hesitantly, "a little bit, um...well, different."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did i scare you?" I asked outraged.

"No! No, Sam, not at all. It's just...well you know," she stammered.

I sighed, "yes, I do know. I thought we were supposed to be moving on from this." I rushed. "Every time I have to talk about this I go back to square one." I could feel the tears forming. Just talking about it made me want to cry.

"I know, I'm sorry," she said sympathetically. "But it's good to have someone to talk to who knows what you're going through."

"Thanks," I said with a nod. "Sorry I lashed out, it's just,"

"Hard." She finished for me. "We all have to deal with it in our own ways, Sam. If it helps I'll tell you the truth, ive never seen someone phase before, " she paused, "but I wish I had been with you, it would make things easier."

"You know I'm a werewolf?" I couldn't believe she knew. I thought we were talking about my mental health.

"Yes, I've known since last year," she said calmly. "My mother told me about the story's."

"Your mother knew?" I blurted out, shocked.

"Of course she did," she nodded. "It's the tribs history, only a few people go though it. We keep it quiet, we don't want to risk your safety."

"You mean I could have talked to you about it?" I gasped.

"Maybe, if you wanted to," she shrugged. "But I'm not sure you would have."

"True, I might not have," I admitted. "I just didn't know you knew."

"How did you find out?" she asked curiously.

"Only once a changed did I believe it." I answered honestly. "I spent a week in the woods alone after I first became a werewolf. Then I came back and people started treating me differently. I was paranoid, terrified someone would see me change and think I'd lost it like the rest of my family. So I kept it a secret. Obviously the elders knew and told me I had to protect our people. So I did."

"I can understand that," she said sympathetically. "I'm glad my mom told me, it makes everything easier. I feel like less of an outsider knowing I'm part of something bigger. I just hope it doesn't get you in trouble."

"Hopefully not," I agreed. "Do you mind if we keep this between us?"

"Not at all," she smiled reassuringly. "I promise."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "I've been hiding it from everyone."

"Like you said, it's hard for everyone to talk about," she nodded. "But I think it's important to know you're still human."

I sighed, "you might be right."

"So, you've been seeing each other a while now?" Emily asked as she enteredthe room. I was happy to talk about Leah. "I haven't seen her since the prom. Have you been dating long?"

"A couple months," I said with a shrug.

"That's not bad," she said. "You've been through a lot in a short amount of time. I'm glad you've found someone who cares about you. Do you two always stay together during these changes?"

"Most of the time," I said vaguely. I didn't want to get into it. "I'm going to go get some food. See if i can convince my stomach to eat."

"Alright, well, if you need anything let me know," she told me.

"I will," I replied as I headed for the kitchen.