#I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m simping. I’ll settle down.

[horrastorie]

So, I may be in love

[emmyrosee]

“If I die one more time because you guys say some fuck shit, you’re getting banned.”

Kenma’s been on this boss for hours. Well, an hour and twenty three minutes, to be exact, as his recording time so graciously wouldn’t let him forget. In his chat, there’s a flurry of people who backseat him to tell him how to beat the boss (mods will take care of them later, but it’s still obnoxious), people laughing and a few encouraging comments being tacked on with some generous donations.

At this point, he just wants to end the stream and beat it in the focus of his own company.

But he won’t. Because it’s his job or whatever.

“Kenny?” A voice calls: your voice. Kenma softens and turns to the door, ignoring his character as it dies again. “I bought you some munchies since you didn’t answer my text.”

“Hey princess,” he hums, smiling and leaning his head back against the chair. “Sorry i didn’t get back to you, I’m in the fuckin’ thick of it. How was lunch?”

“It was good,” you say, smiling and bending down to kiss his nose. “The girls say hi and that they’ll watch later; whatcha doin’?”

Kenma gives you a groan of exhaustion, “I’m suffering, that’s what. This game is horrifically hard.”

“I told you it would be, Ken.” Despite your ‘I told you so’, he chuckles and puckers his lips out for a proper kiss, which you comply with happily. In your peripheral, chat spams with orange hearts- your designated emoji amongst his fans- and puke faces for the affection you two just shared.

He hums and pulls away softly, “you wanna give it a whirl? Maybe some new eyes will make this shit easier.”

“You’re the gamer in this dynamic babe,” you snort. Despite this, you scoot to the side so he can get up and switch places with you, watching with a smile as you get settled in his oversized chair.

Chat explodes with an absolute inflation of orange hearts, flowing a mile a second, and it makes you smile to be seen in such a positive light, even if this is far from the first time they’ve seen or supported you.

“Hi guys!” You say eagerly, grabbing the controller while he leans over the back of the chair. The chat quickly fills up with words of wisdom and “GOOD LUCKS!” while Kenma plants a kiss to your cheek. “What do I have to do?”

“Basically just beat the boss; I’ve found that kinda breaking the game by rolling behind the boss and then pressing ‘y’ for the super attack is best, but hey. I’ve also been stuck on this boss since you left, so I don’t really know anything.”

“Thanks for the help,” you snort, but with a roll of your shoulders to get comfortable, you take on the task.

And it goes well! For the first few seconds.

Slowly then after, it turned into you running away from the boss and blaming Kenma- in your defense, he likes his buttons to do certain things, it’s different than you are used to!- while all along, trying to roll behind the boss to swing at his back.

It’s very amusing to everyone but you.

“How are you so bad at this?” He cackles, and you quickly try to shush him.

“Shut up!” You giggle, shaking your head. Your character lays a slash of their sword, but the game doesn’t seem to register it- if anything, your character gets the hit.

“No! Fuck!” You cackle out a whine, while behind you Kenma tugs at his hair in amused disbelief.

“Please- dear god, I will buy you a ring right now if you just get one hit on this boss-“

“DONT SAY THAT!” You whine, hands immediately starting to shake as you tap mercilessly on the buttons, cheeks ablaze while the grin on your face refuses to falter.

This, to your distracted dismay, causes chat to explode, taking your already shaky focus and making it somehow less existent.

dankondits: you’re making the poor lady stressed!

notakodzukenfan: I’ll marry her no cap-

notemmyrosee: 🧡🧡🧡

slobonthyknob: Kodzuken simp, confirmed???

lasagnahypeeee: our baby streamer growing up ;-;

corner.of.internet: when she’s bad at video games but still a 10>>>>

Thank you kuroosassscheek for the 15000 bits: BUY THE WOMAN A RING BEFORE I DIE OF OLD AGE!

“Kuroo, not helping!” You whine, cheeks an absolute scorch while all Kenma does behind you is snicker. Traitor.

Between the absolute unsupportive nature of your boyfriend and all eyes of the Internet being on you as you fail over and over again, you finally cave and give up.

With a pout, you plant the controller back on the desk, letting the opponent hit you with its many attacks, all the while your character grunts in pain. You must look like a child, because the next thing you feel is Kenma’s lips against your cheek, and it causes that pout to finally break up. “You did good,” he praises. “It’s a hard boss; I’m glad you tried it.”

“Me too,” you confess. You lean in to give him a proper kiss, laughing into it as Kenma holds his large hand up, as if to shield the affection from his watchful viewers. You part with a nudge of his nose, and when his hand comes down, you lace your fingers with his. “It was fun, but I think I’ll leave the gaming to you.”

slimesloppy_: EWWWWWWWW

bosscat867: awww dad’s in love 🧡🧡🧡

razzledazzletoes: UR A COUPLE OF SLUTS!!

zedlerlover: use protection kids

anameicantpronouce: 🧡🧡🧡

blitznbawls: 🧡🧡🧡

brucespringsteendaddy: follow for more tips and tricks

tinytivvies: mrs kodzuken 🧡🧡🧡

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, standing back up to let you slip out of the gaming chair. Your eyes avoid chat, you see all the laughing stickers scrolling though, and you shake your head as your hands reach for the headset.

“Alright chat. Here’s Kodzuken. Hope you enjoyed the interlude.” You push up and out of the chair, letting Kenma slip right in and take your spot. As you turn to leave, you offer him one last call- “oh! When you do buy that engagement ring, I expect no less than 6 karats.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he scoffs, watching you leave with a cheesy smile on his face. He turns back to the camera and slips his headset back on, “dummy. Got you one with 10, you think this is my first day?”

Chat once again explodes with excitement while Kenma merely smirks and goes back to his game, looking at the boss with new eyes and the chat focused on something else.

[toruro]

— ✧ idubilu

pairing. xu minghao x reader

description. obligatory company dinners are never much fun, but you understand that your husband has to go through with them at the end of each month anyways. luckily, he knows just how to make it up to you once you two get home.

genre. smut (18+ / mdni) tags under the cut, ceo & husband minghao, fluff

w/c. 2.8k

a/n. yk i don’t rly like pwp but i needed to pay homage to the idubilu choreo. that's it.

✘ tags. oral (f receiving), petnames (princess, pretty), they're just rly horny 4 each other lol, reader wears a suit and she is SEXY! ✘ taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @ming-h0e @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @yunjinified @nishloves @woozarts @ellesmoon @blurryriki @maknae00 @jjjzzzz @marzmeltdown @peachyaeger @shoulietaro (strikethrough could not be tagged) join my taglist here!

A tight lipped smile is the only thing you’re wearing tonight. Well, that and a stiff pair of dress pants and button up shirt; usually you opt for wearing dresses to these sorts of things, but the one you’d picked out earlier was itchy in all the worst spots and really, you couldn’t bother to choose another one so you settled for this suit. It’s definitely more comfortable, but your feet still ache in the confines of your heels as you wrap your fingers around the cool glass of champagne.

Your husband is in the corner of your vision, talking to some associate as you stand by the buffet table, as you contemplate if you even have the stomach to eat anything right now. You’re overreacting—you know you are—but after long hours at work and an even longer hours trying to clean up the mess your cat had made at home, you’re not the least bit thrilled to spend your evening hours (the ones you usually spend curled up by Minghao’s side) here.

The champagne fizzles out on your tongue when you take a sip, sighing as you lean against the wall. You want to leave, that much is obvious. Minghao can sense it from across the room—the way your arms are crossed over your chest and you look down at your shoes, only glancing up to flicker your eyes at him and then the clock.

“45 more minutes,” you mutter to yourself when he finally excuses himself and walks over with a plate of food in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says lowly when he’s finally within ear shot. “I know you hate coming to these.”

You let your shoulders deflate a little when you hear the sincerity in your voice, reminding yourself that this is your husband. “No it’s … it’s fine, these shoes just hurt,” you tell him honestly, shifting your weight from leg to leg as Minghao hands you his plate.

“Sit down and eat. I’ll wrap this up in half an hour and then we can leave.” You frown, taking the plate from his hands. “And remind me to get you new shoes if these ones suck—you know I hate seeing you in pain.”

You roll your eyes as he follows you to the nearest empty table in the hall. “Simp,” you tease, slipping into a seat and begrudgingly stuffing your face with one of the hor d’oeuvres.

“Whatever you say princess,” he sighs, stepping back. “I’ll be back in a bit, and then we’ll get going, ‘kay?” You nod and he walks off with a final wave, just as bored as before but a little less bitter. After all, Minghao’s sweet words and kind promises always leave a warm feeling budding in your heart.

Still, the next thirty minutes are long. You watch him not too discreetly now, getting lost in yourself as the night progresses. Minghao has long ditches his black coat, and is instead donned in a simple set of black pants and white shirt, nearly perfectly matching you. It’s a kind thought that occupies your mind for the remainder of your time—the fact that you and Minghao match each other perfectly.

You’re left with you and your thoughts, and although it’s a long wait, relief waves over your form when you hear Minghao thank everyone for coming. You make your way to his side while he does so, his arm secured around your waist as the two of you bow and wave everyone out as they shuffle out the room until it’s just the two of you left.

“Oh god, I thought I’d never get to take these off,” you huff, sitting on one of the round tables once everyone’s gone, slipping the tight heels over your sore feet. Your husband watches you sympathetically as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, workers making their way into the hall to clean up.

“I told you, we can go get new ones. Let’s go home now though,” he says, holding a hand out as you reach down to pick up your shoes. Minghao scrunches his nose up when you put your bare feet on the ground. “Ew. Don’t do that!”

You frown. “Why not! My feet hurt and I don’t care if it’s dirty—I can’t stand it anymore!”

Minghao sighs and shakes his head, and for a moment you think you’ve won this battle but then he’s turning around and tapping at his back. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“I am not g—”

Minghao shoots you a warning look, and you suddenly realize you’re too exhausted to care that much anyways. “I’ll give you a treat.”

Your tummy tumbles, and you’re glad he’s turned away so he can’t see the shit eating grin that creeps onto your lips. You don’t exactly understand what Minghao means by a treat as you climb onto his back, but when he secures his arms under your legs, you learn that you don’t need to.

You trust Minghao, more than anyone if you’re being honest, so as you curl your face into his neck as he carries you out of the company building and to the car, finally driving you home, you sit and smile because you know whatever he’s going to give you, you’re going to love it just as you love him.

So yeah, you’re not exactly surprised when Minghao pushes you onto the soft covers of the bed as soon as you enter your house, but then again, you’re not complaining either.

“You look really sexy in a suit,” Minghao murmurs, climbing on top of you as his fingers find his way up your pants and by its waistband.

“You don’t like it when I wear dresses?” you muse, shuffling up onto your elbows so you can lift your hips, Minghao yanking your pants down as you do.

“I do,” he says casually, sitting back on his heels as you kick the pants off and onto the ground, leaving your legs bare as Minghao settles between them. Slowly, he runs his fingers over them, the ghost of a touch as he traces over the inside of your thighs, circles around your knees, and smooths over your shins before finally curling them around your ankles.

You grow limp under him, letting his strong arms lift your legs up high as he runs his soft lips over the flesh of your calves. He whispers into your skin, the hot breath sending a ripple of shivers coursing through you. “Dresses are nice … but suits … fu-u-uck,” he draws out, placing open mouthed kisses down the inside of your legs.

You whimper when he shuffles down the bed and presses his face between your thighs, lips moving rougher and more fervent as he nips and lips at the skin. Minghao wants to drown himself in you—wants you to be the only thing he can taste on his tongue, wants you to be the only thing he can smell as he buries himself in the beauty between your legs.

“Fuck,” he groans, peeling himself away for a moment to stare down at you—your shirt is half unbuttoned, revealing the peek of your cleavage, and your lips are puffy, eyes blown out and hair all strewn as you await for more.

There aren’t words exchanged as Minghao starts to tug at his tie that’s starting to feel all too tight, the silk fabric tumbling between his deft fingers as he pulls it to the side and lets it fall onto the bed. He’s working through but buttons next, starting by the collar and working his way down, and you find yourself growing lost into sight of him.

From the way his adam’s apple bounces and jaw clenches when you whimper, to the way his shirt falls from his shoulders and leaves his pretty chest on display—you’re fucking entranced. Minghao rolls his neck back once, flashing you a hint of his chiseled jawline before craning his head back down and sucking your lips into a deep kiss.

His hands smooth under your shirt and press against your stomach as you grip at his firm shoulders as he mumbles against your lips, “Lemme eat you out.” God, the way he says it is so crude and so dirty, but fuck, if it doesn’t have you nuzzling your nose into his and nodding as your eyes flutter shut …

Minghao moves slowly, and it’s around now that you’d usually start to get impatient; you’d start to whine and squirm, chanting his name in hopes to get him to speed it up. Something in the air is different tonight, and as you close your eyes, you bask in the feeling of his body moving down yours.

You drink in the sounds of his soft pants and echoes of his mouth sucking against your exposed skin. Minghao is meticulous—he always is. It’s how he rose to the top in practically everything he did, and it’s how he’s making you crumble beneath his palms right now.

Your limbs move together in tandem, like you were both built for each other and each other only, bodies intertwining in a heated yet perfect mess as Minghao wraps his arms under your thighs and over your hips when you pull your soiled panties off. He’s done this more times than you can count, but not once has not left you in awe when he licks the first fat stripe.

Minghao knows you well—so, so well—better than yourself, you would add with no hesitation. He knows how to make you smile, knows how to make you laugh, knows how to make you writhe beneath him.

When his tongue delves between your folds and he sucks against the sensitive flesh, Minghao knows exactly what he’s doing. You glance down, finally parting your eyes, and are met with the sight of Minghao’s own heavy lids, and your stomach churns in the realization that he truly is enjoying this as much as you are.

Moans break free from your throat as he slides his tongue up and down, flicking against your clit and making out against your gaping cunt. The words on your tongue come out in a mangled mess, and Minghao can’t really understand what you’re saying, but then again, he doesn’t need to because he loves it.

Loves the way you’re whining from just a few subtle movements, loves how you chant his name like it’s the only word you know—fuck, Minghao loves everything goddamn thing about you and it’s driving him fucking crazy.

Minghao watches you grind upwards to meet the pace of his tongue and lips—it’s perfect. “The best,” he groans, parting his lips from your cunt for a moment so you can hear him better, although he’s not sure you’re even paying attention.

Your neck is thrown back and one hand is threaded through his hair, the other gripping at one of your exposed tits as white noise rushes through your ears. “Could live here,” Minghao says, not really to you but more to himself as he gazes down at your shiny folds before diving back in.

You, you, you, is all Minghao can think, and as he snakes one hand up your stomach, gripping at your other unattended breast, fingers flexing and clenching around the bouncy flesh. “Oh—Hao!” you whine out when he pinches your nipple. It’s not rough or harsh, but you’re so sensitive all over that even the brush of his hair against your skin has you jerking into his touch.

The cry of his name only eggs him on, and Minghao finds his eyes shutting tight as digs his face deeper and deeper into your slobbering core. Through the sucking, through the lapping, through the borderline making out with your cunt, Minghao starts to talk.

He tells you how good you taste, how pretty you sound, how fucking hard he is—his princess, that’s what he calls you. His pretty, pretty princess. Minghao doesn’t even know if you can hear him, but he also knows it doesn’t matter.

You’ll understand.

Minghao knows you’ll understand because everytime you moan his name, his hold on your tits tightens and his lips move with more and more vigor until you’re pulsing—fuck, he hasn’t even stuck anything in yet and you’re already being driven damn close to insanity.

It comes out in broken sobs—“‘m gonna cum, H-H-Hao! ‘m g’na—fuck!”

And he responds with equal passion, mutter into your wetness to, “Do it—fucking do it.”

Minghao devours you through the high that permeates your body, and you feel he might as well swallow you whole with the way his hands are all over you and the way you’re tugging at his hair (it’s painful, but Minghao concludes that this is the best kind of pain).

And then he’s kissing you, your sweet arousal mixing in a mess of both of your saliva as your tongues clash together. Your cheeks are wet as they press against each other and there you two are, rolling around on the sheets until your head is spinning, partly from the buzz of your orgasm but mainly from the pure passion that surges through your blood.

Your hands are in his hair, on his chest, sinking into his back, fumbling with his pants—they’re everywhere because, fuck, you just need to feel him. Minghao is no different because he’s also everywhere—unclipping your bra but still keeping your shirt on, sliding his hands over your tits and pressing against your neck, grinding into you as you shove his pants and boxers down.

You’re on top of him when he’s finally kicked his pants off, grinding down on the massive hard-on he’s wearing, swiveling your hips as he grips onto your tits as if they were a lifeline. “Put it in pretty,” Minghao moans, tweaking one nipple between his fingers as he uses his other hand to tap his thick, leaking cock against the base of your stomach.

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, and you’re pressing forward and lifting your hips. Again, Minghao knows you well. So well that it hardly takes him a second to find your dripping hole, aligning himself with you before jutting upwards.

You cry out at the sensation, sinking down on him almost immediately as your lips meet for another fervent kiss. It’s maddening, really, the way your clit rubs against his pelvis as you carefully rock your hips forward once you get adjusted to his side.

You moan into each other’s mouths and drink up the pleasure because that’s all you two know—in this moment, it’s only you and Minghao.

It’ll only ever be you and Minghao, because no one’s gonna be able to carve the shape of their cock into you like he’s doing so well right now. No one’s gonna lift their hips and swivel right back down, sucking him in and clenching him so tight like you’re doing so well right now. No one’s gonna ever share a moment like the two of you do right now, and as Minghao paws at your waist and threads his fingers into your hair, you both don’t need to say it, but you know.

Skin against skin echoes in symphony with your broken gasps and choked sobs as you begin to bounce over Minghao. He’s got you in a grip like a vise as he murmurs, “Princess—fuck, my pretty princess—feels s’good,” he slurs, to which you can only furrow your brows in pleasure and nod dumbly. You feel like you’re on fire, sweat all over as you chew down on your lip, trying to shake off the soaked dress shirt, but Minghao stops you with a firm hand on your arm.

“Keep it on pretty,” he whines, “Please.”

Something about the desperation in his voice has your heart strings strumming, and let your hand fall back onto him, shifting so his cock hits even deep inside of you. Your squeezing is more than he can handle, and Minghao wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, lips ghosting over your neck and teeth sinking into your skin.

Through mangled whispers and hot skin, tangled limbs and melting lips, you two move through sheets languidly. For how long, you can’t say, but when you two reach your peaks together, it’s with words of love pushed through gritted teeth hard kisses.You two probably won’t be able to understand what the other is saying, but that’s okay because you don’t need to. You’ll know and Minghao will know—I love you.

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x amab!Reader

Art by ijessbest on Twitter (refusing new name still) I believe they also have a tumblr by the same name!

A/N: Sorry I took so long to post this and thank you for your patience! I had thought I put it up earlier but noticed that wasn't true while doing some organizing. The differences are pretty subtle but I hope they are meaningful for your immersion and help you feel seen! If there's something I can do better (I am cis fem so I'm sure there's much my experience has me missing about yours) please let me know! I'd like to help y'all get your escapism too 🤍

From the original a/n - "Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p"

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: masculine leaning amab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

afab!Version

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to spoil yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your aftershave. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful laughter burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling chuckles, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your gorgeous eyes and handsome smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of amber in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and oud at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You flicked his forehead in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh. His eyes poured over your shirtless chest and the thin sleep pants moving around the shape of your legs. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you chuckled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at the skin on your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. The feeling of being rested on your bare chest sent his heart racing. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how it felt to be under your hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

[controlmyfeet]

dad!matty is everything to me. maybe something with reader having a grand reveal that she is pregnant and matty losing his mind and after the news he always keeps his hand on her belly AHHHHh!

when we are together - matty healy

future dad!matty healy x reader

fluff

warnings: emetophobia, pregnancy, simp matty

a/n: at first i loved this, then i hated it, and now i think i like it. i hope you do too. also to everyone that sent requests, i saw them and i’m working on them but it’s going to take a while! thank you for your patience <3

2463 words

i thought the nausea was just a consequence of the migraine i had at the beginning of the week. for the past month, i’ve been trying to adapt to my new job. i’ve been working at the same place for almost a year, but recently i moved to a new department, and everything has been so stressful that i haven’t been sleeping or eating enough, but it’s been two days, and i am once again spilling whatever i had for dinner down the toilet.

it’s 3 a.m. and matty has been to go to the studio early in the morning, so i decided not to wake him up. but when i hear our bedsheets rustle a little louder and the sound of the bathroom door sliding open, i realize it was no use.

“oh baby,” he says softly and reaches towards the counter to grab a hair tie. he runs his fingers through my hair and puts it in a loose ponytail to keep it out of my face. “let go, you’re alright.”

he sits with me until after i’m done throwing up, his hands running up and down my back. i try to use the feeling of him to control my breathing.

“sorry i woke you up,” i say, still breathing heavily after a long silence, my arms propped on the toilet seat and my face still hovering over the toilet bowl, just in case.

“don’t apologize, darling” he squeezes my left shoulder and leaves a little kiss. i turn my face to look at him, eyebrows frowned, and lips pursed “i’m worried about you.”

“i probably got a stomach bug or something.”

i see his sleepy face flash with the sudden realization, “when was the last time you got you’re period?”

as soon as i hear those words, i feel a wave of panic wash over me. i was supposed to have my period almost two weeks ago. my period was mostly regular, maybe some days earlier or later, but never weeks. with all the stress and meetings at work, i must’ve forgotten about it.

“oh shit”

he tries not to laugh at my reaction, seeming too calm about this situation. we’ve talked about having children someday, but this is so sudden. we have nothing planned.

“i can run to the store and grab a few tests,” he says before i start overthinking. hands moving to cup my cheek so i can focus on him, his warm skin contrasting the cold toilet seat. “if you want that, of course.”

“yeah”

“okay, let me just grab a shirt then” he moves to stand up, way too excited for someone who woke up in the middle of the night to his girlfriend vomiting. but i quickly grab his arm, pulling him closer.

“matty, wait,” he shuffles closer to me and i hug his arm tighter. “and what if i really am pregnant?”

“we’ll do whatever you want,” he grabs my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “you know i’d love to have a baby with you, and i understand if now it’s not the best moment. but we could work it out, right? we’re in love, we’re settled, and we’re surrounded by people who love and care for us; we’d be alright.”

i nod and take a deep breath, feeling much happier and calmer about the situation. and also very grateful to have someone so understanding and loving by my side.

“do you want to lay for a bit, or do you want to stay here in case the nausea comes back?” he asks, still holding my hand.

“i’ll lay down, i don’t think there’s anything left”

slowly, he stands up and helps me get up. i turn to the sink and he helps me hold my balance on the counter, standing behind me while i brush my teeth and holding my waist so i can stand up straight.

“you know i love you no matter what, right?” i feel his lips moving against my hair after i spit out the toothpaste. “and having a baby would just make me love you even more.”

i turn around and wrap my arms around him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck and leaving a kiss there. “i love you too.”

matty helps me to bed and adjusts my pillow before grabbing a used shirt and his wallet. he sits with me for a while. calloused fingers stroking my hair softly and his low voice telling me i’ll be alright. we’ll be alright. he pecks my lips before telling me he’ll be right back.

before i can even hear our front door closing, my thoughts are already taken over by little feet, bouncy curls, and big brown eyes.

–

i realize i had fallen asleep only when i feel matty’s fingers brushing my hair away from my face and his lips pressing against my forehead. “you ready?” he whispers

we make our way to the bathroom, and i take the three tests he bought. i place them next to the sink and he sets a timer. before i can feel the anxiety creeping in once again, matty pulls me into his arms and rests his chin on the top of my head.

“i don’t know if this is more scary or exciting,” i whisper and wrap my arms around his waist tightly.

“i know, baby. but we’re in this together, okay? i’ll be here for anything you need.”

he runs his fingers through my hair, and i leave a kiss on his chest. the room is quiet for a while; the only noise i can hear are our breaths and his heartbeat. the silence makes my earlier thoughts come back. pink chubby cheeks, little hands wrapping around my finger. high-pitched giggles echoing throughout the house.

“i think we’d make pretty cool babies,” he says after a while, reading my thoughts.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” i can feel his grin on the top of my head. “half me, half you? that’s a recipe for the coolest kid ever.”

we stand holding each other in the middle of the bathroom until the timer goes off. hiding my smile on his chest as he kisses my head. when the ringtone echoes in the cold bathroom, i feel a rush of adrenaline running through my veins, and i’m pretty sure my hands start to shake.

“i’m not sure if i can look” i let a nervous laugh out and cover my face; he lifts a hand and softly caresses my arm.

“do you want to do it together? or do you want me to look first?”

“no…no, let’s do it together.” i cup his face and give him a chaste kiss.

matty takes each of the tests out of the little cup and turns it around. and as soon as he does, i see the two little red lines, and before i can even process it, matty is already looking at me, waiting for my reaction. but i can see the twinkle in his eyes and the smile he is trying to hold back and i let out a laugh.

“i’m pregnant,” my eyes crowd with happy tears threatening to spill over “we’re having a baby!”

“yeah?” he asks, fully smiling now. i can just nod. and smile.

matty wraps his arms tightly around my waist and lifts me, peppering kisses all over my face. his laugh mixed with sobs. i hold him just as tightly.

“oh darling, i love you so much.” his voice is muffled as he rests his head on the crook of my neck, tears of joy dampening my skin.

“i love you too, matty,” i reply, nuzzling my face in his hair “i can’t wait to see you with our little baby.”

i feel his grip tighten around me, more than i thought possible. face still hidden in my neck and leaving little kisses there.

“you’re going to be the hottest mum ever.” he lifts his head to give me a heartfelt kiss when i start laughing, “best mum too.”

–

it’s been a few weeks since we found out i’m pregnant, so to enjoy the little free time the boys had before going back on tour, matty and i decided to host a sunday lunch at our house. we haven’t told the news to anyone besides our parents. we wanted to enjoy it by ourselves for a bit, even though i worried at first that denise’s enthusiasm would give it away.

i was chopping up some peaches for the pasta salad recipe i saw on tiktok while sitting on a stool. i usually would do this standing up, but matty has been watching over me like a hawk and insisted that i sit down, saying that i shouldn’t overwork my body. whatever that means, i guess. i haven’t even started showing yet, i can’t even imagine how he will act when my bump starts growing.

he comes into the kitchen carrying a few packs of beer and some of the extra ingredients i asked him to buy, and settles everything on the counter. he steals a small piece of the peach i’ve been cutting and comes behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing a sloppy kiss to my cheek.

“how are you feeling, my love?” he asks, moving his right hand to rest on my stomach. i stop what i am doing and turn my head to face him.

“i’m good, i think the nausea phase might be coming to an end.” he nods and i place my hand on top of his. “you’re gonna have to be more discreet, y’know?”

“what do you mean?” he frowns and i fight the urge to run my thumb over the crease between his eyebrows.

“i mean that if we’re going to keep a secret, you can’t be with your hands on my tummy all the time!” i explain while holding back a laugh. “and you also can’t treat me as if i was made of glass.”

“but i want to feel her!” he protests and his frown gets deeper as he tries to prove his point by pushing his hand more firmly on my belly. i move both of my hands to cup his face.

“baby, there is nothing to feel yet.” i try to be serious, but matty’s desolate face sends me into a fit of giggles, “and you don’t even know if it is a her, we won’t know for a few months still.”

my attempt to reason with him completely fails as his face turns into one of shock, as if the things i was saying were the most absurd he’s ever heard “oh, i know we are having a little girl, alright? i’m a hundred percent certain.”

still laughing at my boyfriend’s antics, i give up on reasoning and entirely turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck and bringing his lips to mine.

–

adam and carly were the first ones to arrive, with little baby hann clinging onto both of their hands. soon, ross arrived with his girlfriend, anna, and matty started grilling the burgers, knowing that george and charli would most likely be late as usual. after our talk in the kitchen, he sulked but understood that he couldn’t be on me all the time or it would look suspicious. sure, he is an affectionate person, but with how he acted, everyone would notice that there was something more to it. still, he would go out of his way to pull my chair and refill my water while not subtly caressing my belly.

i had told everyone i wouldn’t be able to drink since i would have a medical checkup the following day and had to do some routine blood tests. which wasn’t exactly a lie, but i was leaving some crucial information out, of course. so when george and charli showed up with an entire jar of clericot, i knew we’d have some problems.

she bought my excuse at first, sharing most of the drink she made with carly and anna, but after two glasses, she started getting a little persistent.

“girl, i made this whole jar of clericot just because i know you like it!” charli complained, almost pouting at this point. and it really is one of my favorite beverages for the summer, but it’s not worth it. i can see matty at the grill giving me not-so-subtle glances as if to say, ‘don’t do it’.

“i can’t, charli, it’ll mess up my tests,” i tried to reason while nibbling on a slice of seasoned peach, but george’s girlfriend is just as stubborn as my own boyfriend.

“oh c’mon, just one glass won’t hurt,” she protested. “it’s not like you’re pregnant.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, my eyes widen and matty turns his head so quickly that it might’ve given him whiplash. so much for being discreet. we exchange looks while my brain works to come up with something to back up my excuse.

“well, uhm, i–those are some very important tests i got to do.”

“oh yeah? what are they for?” carly–who usually would just watch and laugh at our banter–joins in, not at all convinced by my excuse.

“cholesterol?”

no one responds. the girls are exchanging suspicious glances with george and adam–whose little boy on his lap is too preoccupied with his toy cars to pay attention to the conversation–as i turn to matty, begging for some backup. he just looks at me nervously and shrugs.

“that is such bullshit!” ross, who had been helping matty at the grill, exclaims after almost a full minute of silence.

matty comes up behind me with a big smile and wraps his arms around my shoulder. “just tell them at this point, love,” he whispers just for me to hear and leaves an encouraging kiss on my neck.

“well?” charli asks, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. as well as everyone else’s in the room. i take a final look at matty before turning back to them.

“we’re pregnant!” i exclaim, now smiling so widely my cheeks hurt.

all i can hear is the cheer and the laughter from our friends as matty presses several kisses to my cheek before they come to congratulate us. i stand up from my chair as soon as adam pulls matty into a hug and ross is the first one to embrace me, soon followed by charli.

the day resumes with a toast and lots of smiles after the food is served. adam and carly tell us stories of their baby boy, and george reminds us of all the anecdotes of the boys in their pre-teens. and i can’t help but think how it will be when our little one meets its lovely uncles and aunties.

[jut-and-dae-enthusiast]

Case 143! //h.h.j\\

HyunjinxPlusSized!Reader, kinda slow burn? Friends to loversssss, she fell first he fell HARDER, flufffff

Warnings: a bit of like self-image stuff but not too much. Not edited as well as it could be. Tooth rotting fluff tbh. Hyunjin is a simp but ofc he is.

“Why do I keep getting attracted?? I cannot explain this reaction.”

Hyunjin thought he would never see you romantically, that is until he realizes too late that he’s fallen head over heels for you.

The day you met Hwang Hyunjin was chaotic from the very start. You had managed to sleep through all three of your alarms, barely made it in time for work, and thought your bad luck was over when you arrived at the coffee shop. However, as you quickly turned from the counter after grabbing your large iced macchiato, you ran directly into Hyunjin, who had been waiting his turn.

“Oh my god! I’m so so sorry!” You apologize profusely, looking for the nearest napkin dispenser. He was still in shock, looking down at his now stained sweater. “Um, I can buy you a new one?” You suggest, trying your best to clean up your mess without being weird and gropey.

“This sweater was a custom limited edition Prada.” He muttered, looking sadly down at himself. You felt your heart drop into your ass at the realization that this sweater was probably worth more than your entire existence.

“Oh, uh, well…” you trail off, still dabbing napkins against his sweater as your face flushes bright red.

“Don’t worry about it.” He gently rests his hands on yours and pushes them towards you. “I have a really good dry cleaner.” He gives a small smile and turns to leave.

“Let me at least buy you a coffee?” You grab his arm, stopping him before he could leave. “I need a replacement anyway.” You shrug sheepishly. He gives you a once over, trying to decide if you should be trusted before shrugging and agreeing.

“I’ll take an iced americano.” He replies softly before taking a seat in the corner.

Thus began your wonderful friendship. Hyunjin made it clear pretty early on that you weren’t his type, talking to you about the girls he liked or hooked up with. Almost in too much detail at times. He didn’t see you romantically, just as someone to hang out with. Someone who listened to him and liked to sit in silence with him while he painted.

At first, of course, you thought he was cute. You have eyes. But realizing he wasn’t interested in anything like that with you was enough to push you past those feelings quickly. Now, well over two years later, you two have settled into a comfortable platonic relationship.

“What do you need, Jinnie?” You answered the random FaceTime from your best friend, applying makeup to your face.

“Huh? What are you getting all dolled up for?” He asked, clearly forgetting whatever reason he had called you for before.

“I have a date tonight. One of my coworkers set me up with a friend of hers.” You responded simply, dabbing on some lipstick and not even looking at your phone.

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, watching you with furrowed brows. What was this feeling stirring in his stomach? Surely it wasn’t what he thought it was.

“Have you met this guy before?” He finally asked, clearing his throat.

“Uh, no. But I trust my friend. She wouldn’t set me up with anyone weird.” You shrug, now glancing over to see his concerned look. “Hyunjin, you go out with girls all the time. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly being protective.” You tease, laughing and shaking your head.

“No, it’s not anything like that. I’m just concerned… as your best friend…I want you to be safe.” He tried to argue, but the feeling in his gut kept growing and latching onto every fiber of his being.

How dare someone else get to see her beautiful smile. See how pretty she is with all of her makeup done- Oh my god, what? Get a hold of yourself, Hwang Hyunjin.

Hyunjin shook his head and dismissed the weird thoughts.

“Why did you call, Jinnie?” You asked, eyes narrowing on him in concern.

“Oh, I was just wanting to hang out while I paint. But you have plans, so no worries. Guess it’s just me and Spotify tonight.” He gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and waves before signing off.

A few weeks later, the two of you met up for a late night movie night. You wore what you normally would, a t-shirt and baggy pajama shorts, since you had no one to impress. When Hyunjin gave you a questioning brow, you teased him by saying,

“Changbin isn’t here, so there’s no point in dressing up.” Which earned you his signature side eye and made you laugh. You found your spot on the couch, scrolling through your phone while Hyunjin grabbed the snacks from the kitchen.

“They didn’t have the chips you like, so I-“ He stops short when he glances up at you sitting on the couch. His eyes locked onto your bare legs, which he had seen a million times at this point, and felt his heart lurch. You looked up at him in confusion, your brow slightly furrowing.

“Which ones did you get?” You reached out for him to hand you the chips, but he was frozen. You stand up and gently pull the bag from his hands, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re being weird.” You mutter before turning and taking your seat on the couch.

“I’ll be right back.” He quickly leaves the room, heading straight for the bathroom. Once inside, he splashes his face with cold water, patting his cheeks frantically. He then looks himself squarely in the eye through the mirror. “Get a grip, Hwang. This doesn’t even make sense. You just haven’t been with someone in a while. Yeah, just touch starved. That’s it.”He whispered to himself, taking deep breaths to steady his heart. After he finally calmed himself enough, he reemerged into the living room with a small smile on his face.

“You okay, bestie?” You looked up at him in concern. “I’m sorry if I took it too far with the Changbin thing. I was just joking.” You had clearly spent the last ten minutes wondering what could have upset him.

“No, it’s not that! It’s nothing, actually. I just had a weird stomach cramp.” He smiled assuringly and took his seat beside you. However, he almost immediately realized that he had sat too close and your arms were pressed up against one another.

“Feeling a bit clingy, are we?” You teased while leaning into him and he could feel the red slap its way onto his cheeks and quickly spread down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize-“ He moved to scoot away, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not like this is the first time we’ve sat this close.” You rolled your eyes and turned your attention to the movie. He, however, couldn’t look away from your side profile. The curve of your nose, your lips that pouted without even trying.

The second you left his apartment that night, he basically ran to his studio and began sketching you from his memory. Putting love and care into every single curve and freckle. It was frantic- his heart racing the entire time, his fingers trembling. As he sat back from his drawing, gasping for air, it finally dawned on him.

“Oh my god, I’m in love with her.” He muttered, all of the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. He was wracking his brain trying to understand when this happened, how this had happened. He swore he hadn’t been interested in you, that you were far from his type. He immediately stood up and began pacing his studio, muttering to himself and trying to figure out how this could have occurred.

Before he knew it, morning had come and he hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep. He entered dance practice that day looking like a zombie, especially with the dark bags under his eyes. The guys kept asking him what was on his mind, but he waved them off and gave excuses. He had barely grasped what this was, he wasn’t going to have them teasing him on top of it.

To make matters even worse, they had a comeback right at that time and so he wasn’t able to see you even if he had wanted to. Time seemed to drag on but he soon realized that it had been a month since he had last seen you. Since he realized his feelings. He found himself missing you, scrolling through his camera roll and looking at the photos he had of you. Textbook definition of lovesick (even though he hadn’t confessed his feelings yet). Being ever the observant one, Seungmin caught on rather quickly. He also had happened to glance over Hyunjin’s shoulder and see him sketching your smiling face on his iPad.

“Does y/n know you like her?” Seungmin asked quietly one morning over breakfast. Hyunjin choked on his soup, looking up at his member with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?” He tried to ask cooly, but the terrified look in his eyes was dead giveaway that Seungmin was right.

“Hyung, it’s written all over your face. I’m guessing you haven’t confessed then.” The younger one nodded to himself and took a bite of his rice.

“I… I don’t know if I should. We have a good thing going right now. I think I’m just being greedy.” Hyunjin shook his head and sighed.

“You’ll never know how she feels until you tell her, Hyung.” Seungmin warned as he stood from the table and took his dishes over to the sink.

It had been at least a week since you had spoken with Hyunjin. While you missed him a lot, you also wanted to check in on him. He had been distant lately. So, you grabbed your phone and sent him a message.

He quickly stood up and quietly went to his room, shutting the door behind him. Just like magic, your face popped up on his screen. He opened the FaceTime call and smiled softly.

“Hey bestie! Haven’t heard from you in a while, so I just wanted to make sure you still liked me.” You teased, laughing. His eyes widened, afraid you had found out his secret. “Not like that, dummy! I already know that one.” You were sure his reaction was because he was shocked you made that assumption.

“R-right. Yeah, you’re still my bestie.” He smiled, his heart rate slowing. He felt like he was going to melt into the floor at the sight of your relieved smile. Had you always been this pretty? It seemed amplified now that he was pining for you. “Uh, have things been good for you?” He tried to seem normal as to not key you in to the fact that he was definitely memorizing the way your hair fell into your face right now so he could draw it later.

“It’s been good! I miss you, though. My work friends are okay, but who am I supposed to watch dramas with when you’re gone?” You laughed at yourself and felt a little sheepish at your admission. “Can we do a self-care drama night when you get back? I just got some nice face masks.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” He smiled dreamily as he thought about it. He definitely wouldn’t feel nervous the entire time, no way. He’s the rizz-master.

His hands trembled so badly when he tapped on your door that he nearly dropped the drinks he was holding in his other hand. Why was he so nervous? He had done this a hundred times by now, if not more. His mind went completely blank when you opened the door in your baggy t-shirt and sweats.

“Bestie!” You pull him inside and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. The sudden skinship had his heart pounding even harder than it was before. You pull away from the hug and smile up at him. “I’ve got everything ready! I’ll stick these in the fridge.” You take the drinks from his hand and disappear into your apartment.

Hyunjin wandered over to sit on the couch, wiping his now clammy hands on his sweats hoping you won’t notice. You sit beside him and excitedly begin pulling stuff out for your self-care night.

“Your headband, sir.” You hand him the llama one you had picked out for him a while ago, then you grab your frog one and you both push your hair back from your faces. “You’ve been traveling a lot, so I picked this one out for you.” You explain as you open a face pack and lean over to put it on his face. Normally, he leans in and closes his eyes, “sitting pretty” as you mentally called it. However, this time he moved out of the way with wide eyes.

“I-uh- I can do it!” He reaches for the mask, but you pull back frowning.

“We’ve always put them on for eachother… why are you being weird?… Do you have a new girlfriend?” You searched his face for answers, only to see his eyes somehow go even wider as his head shakes quickly.

“No! Definitely not!” He makes an “x” with his hands and aggressively shakes his head. “I just- whatever. Just put it on.” He leans in, his eyes closed and waits for you to gently put the mask on. Every touch feels like shocks of electricity, so much so that he finds himself holding back shivers.

“There we go.” You say slightly and sit back, admiring his handsome face before he opens his eyes and looks back at you. He quietly grabs your face mask and opens it, hesitantly reaching forward to put it on. Your eyes are closed, complete trust in him as you lean forward slightly.

“How did that double date go?” Hyunjin asked later as you two were letting your masks set and watching a drama.

“That was like forever ago, Hyune.” You tease, rolling your eyes. “I mean, it was fine. But he just wasn’t really into me. I could tell he didn’t expect me to look like this,” she gestures to herself as a whole, “when he agreed to the date. I guess I’m a bit of a catfish.” She giggled, shaking her head. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked you over.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, so I don’t get what his problem was. And you look nice in all of your pictures, yeah, but you look just as lovely in person. He must be an idiot.” He grumbled, focusing on the tv.

“Jinnie! People are allowed to have a type. You have one and I’ve never said a word about it.” you tried to reason, looking at him in shock.

“Your type doesn’t determine whose name your heart chooses to call.” He says seriously, looking into your eyes. You feel the mood shift, see the intensity of his gaze. “I… I have been… realizing some things lately. About myself. And uh… about you.” His hands are trembling in his lap, but he knew he had to get this out now. “Y/n, you’ve been by my side for so long now. Through a lot of things. And I’m sorry it took me this long to see you. Truly see you.”

“Hyunjin, what’s happening right now?” Was all you could muster, eyes wide as you watched him carefully. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.” You warned, frowning.

“It’s not a joke, y/n. I… I love you. I have for so long that when I finally realized it, it hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart calls your name. I find myself doodling sketches of you without even realizing. I-” He pauses, realizing his rambling and looks down. You sit there in stunned silence, your brows furrowed and eyes set directly on him. “Please say something. Anything. I-I know this is sudden, but I can’t help-“ before he can finish, you cross the space between the two of you and gently place a kiss on his lips. He lets out a squeak of surprise but melts into you immediately after, his hands holding your face tenderly.

When you finally pull away, you can almost see the hearts swirling in his eyes. There’s no need for words as the two of you smile at one another, gazes full of love.

“Thanks for finally seeing me, Hyunjin.”

(I got the Inspo for this from a “would skz date a plus sized person” tiktok and now we are here. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗)

[thesaintscanthelpmenow]

burn. .02.

*smut (18+, only!), kissing, teasing, vaginal fingering, light d/s, referenced oral (f receiving), breast play briefly, slightly mean!Billy, a little bit of tentative fluff, fem.*

Part one //

You found yourself in the bathroom, as your roommate instructed you to strip. “Get undressed, sweetheart.” Billy husked, making you press your thighs together.

You were caught in the rain on the way home from work on your bike. "Don't wanna catch a cold," Billy had said. You peeled off your wet clothes, shyly, feeling them cling to your skin.

He got the tub filled with hot water, leaning over and testing it, “Get in, baby.” He told you once he was satisfied with the temperature, and turned to you. Your cheeks grew hot at your nakedness, so you scurried past him and climbed in.

He kissed the top of your head, fingers trailing down your spine. “Get your loofah soaped up.” He said, voice sounding rougher.

Excitement tightened in your gut as you squeezed some of his body wash onto the loofah, and his eyes darkened.

“You’re gonna wash up for me.” He said, kissing below your ear.

You shakily started rubbing your shoulders, hyper aware of his eyes on you as he leaned against the bathroom countertop, in a tight maroon sweater, and dark jeans.

You were no longer cold from the rain, but warm both from the water and his gaze.

You peeked at him as you moved to your breasts. His eyes were pitch black, not taking them off you as you scrubbed your breasts, your nipples pert, letting your hands stroke your breasts.

You wanted his hands on you, but at least you’d smell like him.

You moaned, fingers tweaking your nipples. You’d never fully explored yourself growing up in a catholic home. And doing so now in front of Billy was a thrill.

“You’re somethin’, you know that?” Billy hummed, leaning over you and planting kisses down your shoulders and back. “Can’t wait to worship between those pretty thighs.” His nails trailed fire down your spine, and you arched, whimpering.

And then you were moving between your thighs, whining as the loofah touched your heat, and his nostrils flared, looking over your shoulder. “You’re only gonna clean up. Makin’ you cum is my job.” He said, voice thick with desire.

“Billy—“ you said, squeezing your thighs around the loofah, and rubbing on it.

He kissed your mouth, his fingers pulling your hair, his other hand replacing the loofah, long fingers pinching your bud and pulling.

You cried out into his mouth, tasting whiskey on his tongue. “You’re a spoiled girl, aren’t you? Can’t follow instructions, dumb little bunny.” Billy purred against your mouth.

You undulated your hips against his hand, chasing his mouth. “You’re lucky I love you, bunny.” He said, scissoring his fingers inside you.

Your heart leapt at the implication of his words. Maybe he’d just been in the moment.

You whined, and he laughed. “I don’t think there’s a thought in your head, right now, is there?”

“Don’t be mean, Billy.” You pouted.

He hummed. “I’m sorry, bunny.” He said, not sounding sorry at all. He kissed you again, the water splashing with how hard he was fingering you.

“I think you like to play the part of a good girl just to rile me up.” He said, pulling back just as you were about to cum, and pulling his fingers away.

You pouted, “I’m a good girl. Honest.”

“Do good girls tease their roommates by touchin’ themselves?” He asked, grabbing a towel. “Get out, bunny. I’ll eat your pussy.”

“Thought I was a bad bunny?” You teased sassily, draining the tub.

Billy chuckled. “I like spoilin’ you.”

You let him dry you off, enjoying the sweet torture of the soft towel on your body.

You loved him, and it scared you knowing he wasn’t the settling down type.

But you’d enjoy him as long as you could.

.

.

.

tagging; @e-dubbc11 @kayhi808 @firequeensposts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @milea @thejanecampaign @zz-kennedy @aoi-targaryen @bookloverfilmoholic @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @danzer8705 @vaguekayla @cant-help-simping @briannareneea985 @snowkestrel @ittybxttykxttytxtty @littleblackcatinwonderland @idaofinfinity @rosaleenablack @firexfate @oops89 @fictional-hooman @terry2227

[rosietaeyongswife]

reflections | kim doyoung

GENRE: angst WC: 1.3k SUMMARY: we were too close to the stars. do you know when you’re going to come back?

 another rainy day made doyoung even sadder than he already was. whenever weather isn’t sunny, he feels very unmotivated. seems like weather and nature are against him today. 

“guys, have you heard?” mark lee, co-worker of doyoung, was shouting. “y/n was in an interview for times. her book became a bestseller in south korea and united states.”

 group of guys gave each other known look, and taeyong could only slap his friend arm, which was surprising for mark because he didn’t catch what he just said. mark was about to ask when he saw doyoung’s face. his older friend was looking away, pale and seems to be lost in thoughts.

“i heard of new restaurant being opened today. i think we all should go out for dinner after work.” johnny rolled his eyes at mark. “what do you think doyoung?”

“uhm?” he raised his eyes at johnny. “uh, yes sure.”

“then we’ll see at 7.”

“don’t think too much about it.” taeyong hugged his best friend. “we’re going out today so try to think about it. not about her.”

“i’ll try my best.”

 and with that, whole mood of doyoung was ruined. doyoung hated it, no matter where he is there’s always something which reminds him of you. last night he was walking by nigh club and some girl looked exactly like you. week ago he visited his mother on her birthday, and when he was buying flowers he noticed your favorite ones. no matter where he is, he hears as someone talks about you or your succes. 

“my mother made me go on a blind date.” jaehyun took a sip of his bear. “i swear to god, as soon as i heard that i had my head spinning. it’s not a first time my mother left me in a weird sitution.” jungwoo chuckled. “but besides that, i told her i don’t want to go so she yelled at me.”

“your mother is one and only, jaehyun.” taeil laughed. “i’m still waiting for her number tho.”

“taeil, shut the fuck up.” jaehyun gave him dirty look. “don’t try to hit on my mother, your dumbass.”

“did you go out or not?” haechan rolled his eyes. “be quicker with your silly story.”

“yes, i did.” he smiled proudly. “she told me, she won’t talk to me unless i try her out. we met few days ago, and surprisingly it went pretty good. she’s very nice, brave and smart. besides, she looks like a real life queen.”

“you hit a jeckpot.”

“yes, we’re going on next friday again.”

“am i the only single one?” jungwoo raised his hand while others laughed.

“no, me too.” yuta and haechan raised their hands.

“and me.” doyoung gave them little smile. “it’s feels great to be single again.”

“of course, being single is so fun. i don’t have to worry about doing anything, i don’t have to save money or remember stupid things.” haechan said with a smirk on his face. “and i am not a damn simp like some of you.”

 taeyong looked at younger friend in disbelief.

“it’s atucally sucks, i wish i had a girlfriend.” yuta pouted. “i feel like i should settle down.”

“good for you?” jungwoo laughed. “i am glad to be single, right?”

“amen.”

 doyoung was laughing along with his friends but he couldn’t pay much attention to whatever they were talking about. again, his mind was all foggy of your image. almost like you’re here with him. just two of you, together and happy in your own, small world.

 life’s writing the crulest scenarios for some of people, and doyoung was now one of them. life with you was magical. both of you were meant for each other, and there was much of happines. maybe two of you were too close to the stars? maybe both of you were too good for each other, so that’s why you had to part your ways. 

 sun down at glade was the last time doyoung and you have spoke.

“i love you.” doyoung kissed you, while you were talking about your new idea for a book. “i’m sorry to interrupt you now, but it’s really important.”

“of course, go on.”

“i can’t be with you anymore. i just hold you back, look at me. i’m doing very bad in my life, and i wish to disapear.” your eyes were watering. “i’ve tried everything and my fatigue only made it worse for us. i don’t want you to spend your life besides someone who can never find peace.”

“doyoung, what are you talking about? i don’t care, you’re my happines. you’re my world and i don’t mind you at all.”

 you tried to hug your boyfriend but he backed off.

“i, i-i don’t know what else to say. i want you to be happy.”

“doyoung, if you-”

“i am honest. i want all the best for you, so please.” he stood up. “let’s stop talking to each other. let us be past.”

“doyoung, but i can’t. i love you too much.”

“i love you too, but you can’t waste time with me. you’‘re going to be big one day while i stay me. small kim doyoung.”

 since that day nothing was the same. your life turned upside down. few years of solid relationship with your love and it’s gone. like someone broke the balloon you were living in. 

 past two months you had hopes he’d call. doyoung would show up with his lovely smile, and you could talk for another nonsense for hours again. doyoung would hug you and review your stories. that;s all you wanted. he could reach out but he never did. 

 there wasn’t second person like kim doyoung. seems like a confident guy but deep down he has his own battles. he’s shy person who can talk about serious stuff only to his closest friends. someone you can count on whenever you needs to. he had never let you down. he had weird hobbies, and amazing voice. his singing made you feel like on a cloud nine. 

 he should, could but he never would do whatever you were dreaming about. for you it was his cruel behaviour but you didn’t get to chance to know other side of doyoung. 

he was hurt deep down. he believed and gaslighted himself into thinking he’s bringing you down. doyoung’s bad days were worse, and he thought only about you. about how he’s not good enough. how empty he can be. 

“i’d watch match. today’s barcelona versus real madrid.” jungwoo whines. “please, johnny can you turn tv on?”

“sure dude.”

 johnny turned tv on, and there was break between match. some ads come in, and no one paid attention until familiar voice was heard.

“i wrote it book in a month to be fair. i had much more content to create but events that have happened during my writing process, lead me to write new story. i was writing day, night for a whole month. i can tell you, that main character is pretty much mirror of my feelings and situations.”

“so, you’re admitting that story of anne and daniel happened in real life? based on a true feelings?”

“yes, that’s true. i wrote that book with though of some boy who is very close to my heart.”

“i’m so sorry.” interviewer gasped. “i had no idea that so sad story would happen in real life. wasn’t it tough? as we all know, there was no happy end for daniel and anne.”

“of course it was. i hope one day, ‘daniel’ read the book and think about all the good times we spent together. i miss him still and..” you stopped. “and that’s it.”

 interview ended due to match. doyoung’s heart was pounding while everyone was speechless. you were literally everywhere and now you were talking about how your book was inspired by yours realtionship.

“i wish she could come back. i want to fix things-”

“doyoung, she’s-”

“no. i don’t care. i miss her so much.”

 doyoung broke down which surprised majority of guys. they tried their best to stop their friend from crying which was pointless. kim doyoung is madly in love, and he’s waiting until you come back but there’s no much chance.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Leia Organa’s nanny

Leia Organa x reader

warnings:

a/n: i forgot abt lola!!! and this request!!!

prompt: anonymous: “Could I request headcanons from the Obi-Wan Kenobi series about being child!Princess Leia‘s babysitter, please? Thank you!”

your family had been trusted members of the Alderaanian Royal Guard for generations

you’d worked around the castle for some time before there was a delightful new addition to the royal family

and they asked you to care for her personally

“y/n, i think we have the perfect job for you” -bail

you met leia soon after she was born and thought she was the most beautiful girl to exist

“oh, i think i’m going to enjoy this job” -you

(it ended up being the most daunting thing you’d ever have to face)

she was not at all fussy as a baby, but as she grew up she got VERY sassy

and adventurous

“leia! no, please get down from there! your parents cannot know you climbed that high!” -you

“i can go higher!” -leia, climbing a tree

you just about had a heart attack

it only encouraged her

leia may be an adrenaline junkie, but she’s not opposed to a nice night in

you’ve gotten her to settle in with a good book and some homemade treats

breha and bail encourage you to teach her life skills, so she’s made a few meals and such on her own (you tried to help, she insists she can do it herself)

“do you like it?” -leia

“it’s…great…” -you, chewing charred cookies

she’s getting the hang of it

taking trips with the organa family

to which you get a small “break” from leia

not really, she loves to include you in family stuff

they all do, really

and you love the new sights across the galaxy, you never would have imagined these alone

“i think y/n would adore the skyline, don’t you?” -breha

“only one way to find out” -bail

they embraced you as family

you do leia’s hair a ton

“what would you like today?” -you

“braids” -leia

“what kind?” -you

“two pinned around my head” -leia

“i’ll do my best, dear” -you

you secretly taught leia her little attitude

always stand her ground and show kindness where it’s deserved

you have to gently wake her up, she’s been known to have some “active” dreams

you’ve been kicked and/or punched many mornings

“well, it was your own fault…sorry” -leia

she asks if you know anything of her birth parents

“unfortunately, i do not. i know you’d like answers, and maybe someday you’ll get them, but i would pry too hard if i were you” -you

“well, you aren’t me” -leia

“that’s true, miss attitude” -you

supervising when her cousins are around, since there seem to be plenty of disagreements between them

you can’t help but smirk at leia’s clapbacks

“now, come on, you guys. don’t be rude” -you

“who are you to tell me what to do, servant?” -cousin

“hey! don’t talk to them like that or i’ll make sure you go to bed bald!” -leia

“settle down—” -you

“not until he apologizes!” -leia

you have to remove leia from many of these situations

but she prefers alone time (and alone time with you) rather than those pesky social events

“i’d be so bored without you i think” -leia

“you do?” -you

“very much so” -leia

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @gabile18 // @sweetjedi // @retvenkos // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @dontyousassmeok // @dindjarinsspouse // @zoeyserpentluck // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @sheridans-dynamos // @lady-violet // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @ruvaakke // @simp-legend // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @your-local-simp0 //

[zhongrin]

As promised, a follow-up ask (split into parts) because I have too many questions about the behind the scenes.

[Part 1/3]

- How did you come up with the idea for the October EBG? How far in advance do you start planning out the general plot?

- How closely did your vision for the October EBG line up with how things played out? I know you took some liberties regarding when you answered certain asks based on the plotline, so how did you make the determination about what hints to drop and when?

- Since EBG is an interaction heavy event, were there any particular asks/events/interactions that took you by surprise (either in a good way or bad way)?

- What was the most challenging part about this EBG?

- What was your favorite part about this EBG?

i just want to say ilysm (/p) for this, nonnie. sorry it took so long to answer - i couldn't help but ramble and did a lil thing for all the asks eheh

[ p1 ◆ p2 ◆ p3 ◆ p4 ]

✼ How did you come up with the idea for the October EBG? How far in advance do you start planning out the general plot?

i had a few one-liners ideas in my notes when i signed up for the ebg, so I when ying (@/i23kazu) assigned my bias as childe, i just yoinked one that seemed fitting.

honestly, i wasn’t even sure if i wanted to do another storyline for this ebg at first. i even had a poll and while most urged me to make a storyline and do whatever will make me happy, there was also a significant amount who said otherwise. but in the end, i thought about it again and i decided to fuck it and do what my heart wants.

i couldn’t plan that far in advance considering ying only announced the assigned bias the day before ebg, so quite literally these were the ideas i jotted down after i settled on the ‘plot’:

besides that, at this point i only knew i wanted to do something with polls and ciphers — that’s it. i had no concrete ideas or anything.

✼ How closely did your vision for the October EBG line up with how things played out? I know you took some liberties regarding when you answered certain asks based on the plotline, so how did you make the determination about what hints to drop and when?

really close, i guess? i didn't really have a 'clear vision' or anything, just the general plot and wishing that people would send in asks haha

general rule of story telling is to start it slow and make it accelerate and peak near the end, so that’s what i did with the hints and story progression. and as for the hints, it would have to be vague at first (let people guess and theorize and go down the wrong path) and gradually i just started making it clearer/obvious as it goes.

✼ Since EBG is an interaction heavy event, were there any particular asks/events/interactions that took you by surprise (either in a good way or bad way)?

i didn’t expect people to like coviello hsdlkfjklsdf

but honestly, every asks i received in my inbox feels like a surprise gift for me. because even for my friends, i had no idea what they were going to make their characters do.

✼ What was the most challenging part about this EBG?

1 - writing coviello simping for childe 😭 i just cannot simp for this man.

2 - coviello’s snarky & blunt replies — i am a person who tries to be as civil and polite to people unless they pick a fight with me, so it takes me a while to come up with an answer.

3 - lastly, as usual, having to pump writings & drawings consistently for 7 days straight took its toll on me. i said it before on my first ebg and i’ll say it again. i have no idea how i managed to do that and i’m not sure if i can do it again hskdjskd

✼ What was your favorite part about this EBG?

everything, i think. the interactions, the anticipation of waking up and scrolling through the replies section, the excitement when replying to asks and getting bursts of ideas on what to write and draw.... gods. it's so much fun.

but i guess if i have to pick it would be seeing people reblog coviello's story quest. it was a whimsical project that came to me at.... day 3 or 4 night, as i laid in my bed before sleeping. i had the idea and jotted down the narratives and sketch directions while crying (oof). sketched & edited it for the next few days, and made it just in time for the last day.

[i-hope-this-is-a-phase]

Twenty-Four

The first thing Dream saw was the shrimp.

What the fuck, he thought, staring at his bedroom wall which was covered in shrimp. Why are there shrimp on his wall?

“How would I know,” a familiar voice spoke. Suddenly, Dream was sitting at his desk with his headphones on.

“Seriously dude. That’s just weird. I get having strange dreams, but shrimp?”

“Shut up Tschno,” he snapped, grabbing his mouse. He was playing Minecraft, but all he saw was a blur of colors.

Techno’s laugh crackled through his headphones. “Now Dream,” he said, a smile in his voice. “That’s no way to greet an old friend.”

Dream stopped playing the game. Or he just started. He didn't particularly care. “What?”

Techno hummed. His keyboard clicks could be heard through the mic. “I heard you wrote a song about me. A bit cringe to be simping for a dead man.”

The game swirled in front of him, a blur of blues, greens, and reds. Dream cleared his throat. “How’d you learn about that?”

“Dream, c’mon.” He could practically feel the smirk through the screen. “You know to never question me.”

Dream laughed. It felt a bit like breathing and dying at once. “God,” he said. “Yeah. I know man.”

“Good," Techno said, "glad you’re not getting stupid without me there.”

“Hey!”

“I heard you cried during the song. A bit of an L, don’t you think?”

Dream swallowed the lump in his throat. “Some would say that.”

“Not me though. Nope. I didn’t laugh as my friend cried over my dead self. No. Who would do that?”

The lump broke as tears finally fell down his cheeks, soaking his face and neck. “God," Dream gasped out, "shut up Techno."

Techno laughed again, but it was quieter. Gentler. The kind he used to get late at night on Discord calls brainstorming ridiculous Ideas while talking about nonsense. The ones they had after MCCs, the ones they did brainstorming lore, the ones where Techno was the person he is. Was.

Dream sniffled a little as he tried to calm himself down. He had no doubt Techno heard it, and was prepared for a barb when he heard:

“Sorry I missed your birthday. And everything else that happened.”

Dream took a deep, shaky breath. Breathe. “It’s okay dude. I know you would’ve been there.”

“Still,” Techno said, keyboard clicking again. “You deserve to hear it.”

A silence came over them. It was peaceful though. Like the end of the day, before bed. Or the end of a long battle. A hard won peace.

The clicks of Techno's keyboard slowly came to a stop. Dream heard him take a breath. "I have to go now."

Dream closed whatever was on his computer, and leaned back in his chair. He understood the deeper meaning.

For the sake of familiarity, he said, “I’ll let you know when I’m free again.”

Techno laughed. It rang in Dream's head, as though he was really hearing it. “Sure nerd. Bet you will.”

~

Dream woke up alone in his bed.

He had managed to kick off the blankets in the night. Patches, who had been with him earlier, was nowhere to be found. And his pillow was soaked with tears.

He swung himself out of bed and grabbed the water glass on the stand, taking deep sips. He stared as bis (thankfully) shrimpless walls as he thought over the dream.

Dream isn’t religious. Hasn’t been since he was small and blindly following his family to church. Nor is he superstitious. He doesn’t believe in ghosts, or a heaven, or the walking dead.

But as he settled himself back into bed, after washing his face, drinking more water, and replacing his pillowcase, he said to the empty room:

“Thanks, Techno. For everything.”

[justagirlwhowritess]

Song: Alkaline by Sleep Token. Song Lyrics in italics

Paring: Hitoshi Shinsou x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff?

Warnings: slightly suggestive, nothing crazy.

Every once in a while something changes

And she's changing me

It's too late for me now, I am altered

There is something beneath

A smile crossed his lips as he watched y/n interact with a few other students in the hero course. God, how he wished he could talk to her with such vibrancy, to elicit her sweet laugh, to be the reason she smiles. He feels himself wanting to be that for her. Wanting to change to be someone she adored. 

She's not acid nor alkaline

Caught between black and white

Not quite either day or night

She's perfectly misaligned

I'm caught up in her design

And how it connects to mine

I see in a different light

The objects of my desire

She bounces over to him, a smile adorning her features, a little clumsy but makes it to him no less. “Hi Shinsou” she breathes and he feels like he’s stopped. His name on her lips is enough to drive him crazy. “Hi y/n. What are you up to?” he asks, trying to calm his nerves. It’s not that y/n hasn’t spoken to him before, they are friends, but she makes his heart flutter and race. He sees the world in such a happier light with her around. “Do you want to go shopping with me after class?” she smiles. He struggles to find the words, he hasn’t slept in days, but this is his chance. “Yeah, sure.” a smile tugs at his lips as he responds. She jumps with glee. “Great ! I will meet you outside your dorm building!” her hand on his shoulder, lingering for a moment while she speaks. He gives her one more smile as she retreats. “Sounds perfect.” he hums.

Ooh, let's talk about chemistry

'Cause I'm dying to melt through

To the heart of her molecules

'Til the particles part like holy water

If anything, she's an undiscovered element

Either born in hell or heaven-sent

But either way I'm into it

Shinsou walks her back to 1-A’s dorm, even offering to hold her bags for her. A smile strewn across both their faces. He treated her to dinner after she dragged him around the mall. “Would you like to come to my dorm?” She asked as they reached the door. They still had a few hours until curfew. He nodded, opening the door for her allowing her to lead the way. Kamanari was in the common room with Ashido. “Simp” he whispers with a laugh as Shinsou is guided by y/n upstairs to her room, her bags in his hand, a smile never leaving his tired face. He sets the bags on her desk feeling his nerves grow. The chemistry between them is now fluttering in the air. “You can sit down you know” she giggles pointing to either the desk chair or the bed. He opts for the bed, sitting up back against the headboard. She joins him after discarding her sweatshirt. He takes a moment to fully look at her, soft curves,  a shirt that shows them off well along with the tops of her breasts. Instead of sitting next to him, however, she decides to be brave and straddles his lap. His breath hitches as he realizes how close she is. She smiles, her own nerves subside when his hand lingers at her side before settling on her hip. “W-what are you doing?” He chokes out as she continues to watch his movements. “I asked you on a date, i figured you would hold my hand or something” She whines, adjusting herself on his lap he holds her still his eyes now meeting hers. “I’m sorry a date?” he mumbles in a hushed tone as if someone would hear him. She nodded “I like you Hitoshi. I thought you felt the same. I’ll move, I’m sorry. I must have read things wrong” she tried to move and he stopped her. His lips collided with hers, begging her to stay where she was at. Her hands met his purple hair, tugging lightly. He pulls back and smiles at her. “I have liked you forever, y/n”.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

New Cyberpunk 2077 content dropping got me feeling whooooooo man I’m so fucking excited and I cannot wait until the expansion comes out 😭 I’m such a simp for Johnny Silverhand y’all have no idea

In other news, the big moving day is almost upon me so updates will be even slower (I’m so sorry you guys) I’m planning on finishing what I’ve got in my drafts and potentially starting from scratch in regards to asks in my inbox, I know it’s super unfair of me and I’m so sorry 😢 I might open this blog up for different content, like other video games or movies/shows, I’m still not sure yet. I might also move my stuff over to Ao3 and put this blog on the back burner until things settle down. Idk I’ll play it by ear. Either way, I appreciate everyone for sticking around! And if you want to talk Cyberpunk PLEASE DO. I’M DESPERATE. I LOVE IT SO MUCH I’M GOING TO EXPLODE 😭❤️

[gabzlovesu]

༊ ‧₊˚ ⎯⎯ FOR ONE NIGHT

tomo (kazuha's friend) x fem!reader

warnings: kinda sad so bring your tissues (sorry in advance lol) unprotected sex, pregnancy, fuck the raiden shogun all my homies hate the raiden shogun, and i hope this is enough to get you to simp for a faceless side character lmfao bye.

There were times Tomo’s eyes would light up as bouts of passion consumed him. You could see it when he practiced his swordsmanship, when he talked about his aspirations, and even during those tender moments when he held you close. And tonight they shined the brightest you’ve ever seen.

“What’s got you all worked up?” You’re nearly breathless yet find the air to question his needy hands that leave no inch of your body untouched and make quick work of the knot on your kimono. 

He ignores you — well he didn’t mean to but he’s just so focused on savoring the taste of your sweet skin, planting kisses lower and lower until he reaches the valley of your breasts. 

“Tomo?”

“I’m just excited. Now can I please continue?”

“I just want to know what you’re so excited for? If I’m a celebratory prize then I deserve to know, don’t you think,” you quip back and let the corner of your lips curl into a smile.

“Let’s just say that I’m going to put an end to all of our problems. No more hiding, no more living in fear of the Vision Hunt Decree — just the two of us and some well-deserved peace… Well, Kazuha will be around too.” You can feel him chuckle lightly against the crook of your neck as he continues to litter kisses upon you.

“I don’t…” you pry him off of you to look him in his eyes. “I don’t understand Tomo…What are you gonna do?”

“The Musou no Hitotachi. I’ll be the one to withstand the shogunate’s sword.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you prepare to shut down his entire plan. You thought he had forgotten about it. You thought he had given up on a dream that would almost certainly end in death. Before you can utter a single word in protest, his lips crash onto yours and his hands settle on your thighs as he coaxes you to give in. When he’s sure you’ve run out of air, he breaks the kiss.

“Have a little faith in me, yeah? I promise I’m gonna walk through that door tomorrow and everything will be fine. So let me just have this, please.”

Dammit. As much as you wanted to argue and tell him how foolish he sounded, you couldn’t do it. Not with those bright eyes staring at you so full of love. You cave. The red kimono was the only thing stopping him in his tracks and it’s quickly tossed aside with his own clothes. 

Everything feels different tonight. He holds you a little tighter and sings only the sweetest tune of praises in your ear, but most of all he’s taking his time. Every thrust is slow and methodical as your body moves perfectly with his. His fingers dance around your sex, gradually building up your climax as he fights his own. And oh my God, the way he looks at you — eyes flickering indecisively between your own and your lips that slightly parted as you moan out his name. He finds himself doing the same when you flutter around him as he plunges deeper. Tomo presses his forehead to yours, shifting all his attention to how good you feel right now.

It would be nice if things could stay like this forever. How childish of you to wish for such a thing. You know all too well that the concept of eternity was not only ridiculous, it was also impossible.

You had faith but that wasn’t enough to save him from the fierce strike of the Musou no Hitotachi. So all you could do was watch helplessly from the ever-growing crowd as Tomo received his divine punishment. 

When the Raiden Shogun’s sword came down, your world also came crashing down with it.

An ear-shattering scream comes from you and you desperately try to push past the armed guards. Even though the tears welling in your eyes blurred your vision, you could tell the ashen blonde wasn’t moving. While Kazuha had managed to escape with Tomo’s hollow vision, you were left to pick up the limp body of the man you loved.

You stayed there holding Tomo for hours, wailing on your knees in the square while his body grew cold in your lap. “Go away! Leave,” you screamed at any who tried to take him from you. 

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. But even dangerous strikes of lightning can serve as light when shrouded in darkness.

“Mama made your favorite for dinner last night! And she told me about how you and Uncle Kazuha took down 20 of General Kujou’s men one time. Like boom and pow.” A small boy makes exaggerated movements with his arms to accompany the sound effects. He wears himself out doing high kicks and quick slashes through the air, only to settle back down on the ground where he was moments prior. 

This time the boy speaks quieter, hugging a shiny object close to his chest. “Mama really misses you, Papa. Please watch over us.” 

“Tomoki! It’s time to come inside,” you shout from inside the small home. Even though you couldn’t see the young boy, you already knew where he was. 

“Bye Papa, I love you.” His little hands bring a dulled vision to his lips before setting it down in front of a sword sheathed in the ground. He runs down the path lined with cherry blossoms and is swooped up into your arms. You give a longing look towards the path before closing the door. You will be forever grateful for that night.

TAGLIST FORM tagging: @hungrynessforfics @dejwrites @rinhoes @iloveitblackbhna @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @indiecursor @po3ticb3auty @nanaminshousewife @apollostears @cosmicglowe @thenerdyrebel @luffysthickwaifu @svlims @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @picayunne @kurtaclangobrr @kookieflvr @woahhajime @novaresque-links @syomi @chrolloderulo @vivisspamm @erentoes @kutosznn @queenmjp @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @cosmicyeager @sakurashell @38riku @tonaken @delphi-thefairy @muzanskimono @wiserebelpartypie @hellavile @g0revixen @sintiva @sleepy3 @simpliheavenli @festive @simpliheavenli @yuujilove @yooniluvbot444 @sukosie @imperatorkhaleesi

[angry-geese]

if you are taking requests, may i make one? Toji is so fucking sexy, his presence makes me wet. so can you write something about Toji and his student? obviously she is 18+ but maybe something like them having private sessions and how it gradually leads to Toji fingering her and giving her a head? she has never had indulged in any sexual stuff.

p.s.: i came from your toji account and read that you take requests here. am i right? i really liked your writing and accounts in general.

YESSS im such a simp for professor!toji omg. im so sorry this took me a bit longer to finish but its a bit lengthier than what i typically write for requests so i hope that makes up for it lol

Introspection

Toji Fushiguro x reader

Warnings: nsfw/mdni. shameless smut, teacher/student, age gap (reader is in their mid twenties, toji is implied to be in his late thirties/early forties), dilf toji, fingering, oral (fem receiving), office sex/semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, unprotected sex, pet names (use of princess/good girl/my girl). mentions of smoking and alcohol use. fem reader.

a/n: i got kind of invested in writing professor!toji so sorry again for the length. i apologize in advance for my poor description of college life lol

Word count: 5.8k

jjk masterlist

“You should really put yourself out there more.” Shoko says.

“I’ll have to pass,” you say, “and move, you’re getting ashes in my bed.”

“I wouldn't be getting ashes in your bed if you got out of it.” Says Shoko, snubbing out her cigarette and leaving it in the bottom of the ash tray.

With a grunt, you push yourself up from your place on the bed. Maybe she’s right. But that’s something to worry about another day. At the moment, you need to shower. Shoko stands behind you as you brush your teeth, leaning against the doorframe.

“Download Tinder,” she says, “or I could hook you up with someone.”

“I think a distraction is the last thing I need right now,” you say, “this class is kicking my ass. You know the new guy- Professor Fushiguro?”

“Is he the 19th century history guy, or the art one?”

“Art one.” You say. “He’s a real prick. I’m so close to failing his class.”

She laughs. “It's art- don't you get a grade from just showing up? How hard can it be?”

“You’d be surprised.” You say. “Now get out- I’ve gotta shower.”

“Fine,” she says, “I’ve gotta go meet up with Gojo anyway.”

Eventually you do take your roommate’s advice, and download Tinder.

Online dating never struck you as something you’d enjoy. Dating in general is a topic you generally avoid. Your mother often asks when you’re going to finally get married and settle down. You tell her you’re too focused on your career to worry about it. For a while she took that as an answer, but the closer you get to graduation, the more incessant her questions become. Sure, you’ve had boyfriends in the past. Mostly in high school, and most of them you’d break up with after Valentine’s day. Online dating seemed like that, only with extra steps. It always felt so complicated. You've heard plenty of horror stories- usually from Shoko. That alone was enough to sate your curiosity for such a thing.

Most of your morning is spent trying to make a profile; choosing nice pictures of yourself and writing a bio that doesn't make you sound like a serial killer. You figure you’ll get Shoko’s opinion on it when she gets back. She seems to have a better grasp on these things. This sort of thing is new territory to you. You're still not sure what you want out of it- be that a hookup, or something else entirely. The thought of bringing someone back to your apartment is daunting enough, and the thought of spending the night in some stranger’s apartment is outright terrifying. You figure that's a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it, and you’ll simply do what feels right.

It's well into the afternoon when Shoko gets back from Gojo’s. You hardly hear the door open, only the sound of keys being tossed on the counter.

“I brought wine,” Shoko’s voice echoes through the apartment.

Your response is only a grunt. A moment later her head pops through the crack in your door. Shoko. She flops across the end of the bed, pressing a wine glass into your hand. You take small sips of the thin, tart liquid.

“This is stressful,” you say. “So I just… go off of this”

“I think of it like a video game,” she says, “the free dinner is just a plus. Don't- don't swipe right on that guy, I don't like his vibe. Why’d you set your age range so high?”

“I did?”

“Yeah, he’s like forty.”

“How do I fix that?”

“Go into your-”

While she explains that, you swipe through a few more profiles. Eventually she must figure out you aren't listening, and stops talking.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the photo. He's rather handsome, albeit a bit too old for you. And he’s got a kid- a boy, maybe eight or ten, who’s in one of his photos. He’s definitely his, the two are carbon copies of each other. He doesn't look like he could be in middle school yet. His bio is nothing out of the ordinary. Something about him is so oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place why.

The rest doesn't click until you read the name.

Toji- Fushiguro Toji? Generally everyone refers to him by his surname. You remember hearing his first name somewhere, but, since nobody uses it, it's long slipped to the back of your mind.

He looks so strange when he’s dressed casually. Something about it is… off putting. Like you’re looking at something you shouldn't.

“Oh my god-” the words spill past your lips before you can stop them. Shoko’s on you in an instant, peering over your shoulder.

“Oh my god,” she echoes. “Oh my god it's him! Swipe-”

“No,” you say, “no fucking way. There's no way in hell-”

Shoko reaches down to swipe right for you.

You don't know what's worse: Shoko swiping right, or the fact that he must swipe right back.

He doesn't block you instantly as you expected him to. That would be less embarrassing than watching him type. Each minute that passes leaves you more on edge. You want nothing more than to get up, and walk around, but your eyes remain stuck on your phone.

He only sends one message. And it's so long, your eyes only gloss over it at first.

“Well… out of respect for you, and a need to remain professional, I’ll have to block you, but before I do so, I’ll take this opportunity to tell you your grade for this most recent project: 78%. If you have any more questions, please direct them to me through my email, or ask me after class.”

Shoko, still reading the message over your shoulder, only laughs and says “shit”

You drain the last of your wine, reaching for the bottle to fill your glass again. It's almost empty. Did you really drink that much? The alcohol leaves you feeling ill. Or maybe it's your nerves.

“What was the project?” Shoko asks.

You can't tell if she’s trying to mock you, or genuinely curious. Either way, you ignore her question.

“He’s going to kill me.” You say.

“You? Nah,” she says, “If I had to guess, he's going to try to forget this ever happened."

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” you say.

…

You’re not looking forward to class in the morning.

If it's any consolation, there's only two lectures today. His, and a creative writing class that had been canceled at the last moment. The professor for that class failed to email everyone, and you only found out it was cancelled because of a note on the door. Not wanting to head home—having to come back again in an hour anyway—you decided to kill time in the library. Your plan was to get some homework done, thinking the quiet would help you focus. It seemed to do the opposite. No matter how hard you tried, your mind would find ways to wander.

When the time does roll around, you find yourself unable to move from your seat. Maybe it's best if you skip his class today. Maybe later you'll shoot him an email saying you were sick. Eventually you do convince yourself to go. You figure the blow to your grade is worth more than your pride.

The class itself ends up being nothing of note. Maybe it's to spare your last shred of dignity. Maybe it's the universe taking pity on you. He pays you no mind as he goes through the lecture.

"I'm ending class a bit early today," he says, "my son is sick and his babysitter couldn't come in today,

"Though I'm sure the rest of you are more worried about the homework; there is none today simply because I don't feel like grading it,

"That is all." He says.

It's still too early to catch the bus back to your apartment, and you didn't drive today. If you leave now, you'll have to wait an hour out at the transit stop. You could take the train.

“Not you,” he says, motioning at you, “I need to speak with you.”

The contents of your stomach feel like they’ve turned into cement. It's another moment before you move, and when you do, you almost consider acting like you didn't hear him. You scoop your books into your bag, hauling it over your shoulder.

You join him in his office, leaving the door open. He sits, but you—unsure of what else to do—remain standing.

“This isn't about the Tinder thing is it?” You ask. And for a moment you regret not keeping your mouth shut.

“No- honestly I was going to pretend that never happened,” he says, “I wanted to talk to you about your grade. Your take on this piece is refreshing, but your execution is… lackluster,

“You’re quite a pleasure to teach—granted that's when you’re not hungover—but your work… I’ve seen the things you're capable of. It's clear you’re putting in the work- you’ve been to nearly every lecture and outside activity I’ve had this year. The last thing I want to do is disrespect your work as my student, but I know you can do better. I'm giving you until the next lecture on Friday to redo this."

"But a 70 isn't a failing grade." You say. Why do you have to redo it?!

"Your grade in this class is a 69."

Don't say 'nice' don't say 'nice' don't say 'nice' don't say 'nice'

"Now if your only goal is to pass, then redoing this project should bring you up to a 71." He says. "Combined with the extra credit should put you at about 73."

That? You weren't planning to do that… You guess you'll have to now. For a class that bases most of its grade off of participation, it's sure kicking you in the ass.

"The semester is hardly over,” he says, “there's still time to fix your grade. Finish those two assignments and I'll see what I can do about fixing your grade,

"And if I'm not being too forward, may I ask you to never bring up the Tinder incident again?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." You say.

But beneath your calm demeanor, he can see something darker. Maybe a flicker of anger, or spite. That mind of yours is a double edged sword.

You hardly realize how close your faces have gotten. His eyes find yours, taking in every line and curve of your face.

Toji is not certain of many things, but he knows this conversation is going to come back to bite him in the ass.

When Friday does eventually roll around, you are hardly prepared for it. Your project—along with the extra credit—you manage to finish early. That doesn't stop you from holding onto both works until class rolls around. You're certain he'll take one look at it, and either fail you, or give you a passing grade. Just as long as he doesn't have another talk with you…

Later that night you receive an email from him. All it says is "I have a few things to discuss with you."

It's not until the following Monday you see him again. There's no lecture, but his office is open. Through the cracks in the blinds, light is visible. The door is slightly ajar, though you still knock. He nods, silently acknowledging your presence.

"You said I should come see you," you say.

He doesn't look up from his papers as he says "come in" followed by a "please close the door behind you"

You do as you're told, standing awkwardly at his desk, hands folded in front of you.

"How's your son?" You ask. Making small talk feels more bearable than silence.

"He's doing better." He says. "Please, sit. I had a few things I wanted to discuss with you about the project,

"It certainly was… different,

"Of course I expected nothing less from you. However I noticed something with your most recent piece. Well, I should say your work in general,

"I've noticed this pattern with you. You have a habit of latching onto a subject and running with it. I often see this same theme in your work, yet I can never quite place it,

"I think you made this provocative on purpose," he says, "I think you wanted a reaction from me."

You're silent for a moment, before asking "did it work?"

He sighs, and pushes back from his desk. "Yes, unfortunately," he says, "you've got my attention. Now what is it you want?"

"You," you say. And the both of you are surprised by your sudden boldness. Though you're not meek, such a forward action is uncharacteristic of you.

His mouth opens as if he has something to say. What you don't expect is his lips to crash against yours. The kiss he pulls you into is surprisingly gentle, yet full of need. You scramble for purchase against him, your arms wrapping around his neck. The heady scent of his cologne makes you feel drunk. There's something intoxicating about his touch. How gentle, yet rough it can be.

He doesn't stop you as your hands trail lower. Soon your hands find his belt- not undoing it, simply fiddling with the metal clasp. His cock twitches under your touch; soft, and needy. Your hands are so small compared to his. It's rare times like these that he lets his thoughts wander. He can't help but wonder how they’d feel wrapped around his cock.

But the open blinds keep him from acting on this. He sincerely doubts anyone is going to walk in. Most send an email before they do- it's only common courtesy.

Eventually you do have to pull away. You’re out of breath, and so is he.

"Is this how you expect me to get my grade up?" You say. "Is this my extra credit?"

He pauses, pulling away. His sudden change of expression makes you uneasy.

“I may be an asshole, but even I have my limits,” he says, “taking advantage of one of my students like that is unacceptable. Don't think today’s incident will get you any favorable treatment,

“I will have your work from today graded and returned to you tomorrow morning,

“Is there anything else?” He asks.

“Yeah- what canvas size do I need for the next project?”

…

Shoko is home early for once. Maybe she doesn't have work. It's hard to tell. She lays sprawled across the couch, phone in hand, ignoring the tv that plays in the background.

She says a soft “hey” when she hears the door shut. “What have you been up to?” She asks.

“Class.” You say. “Had to talk with that guy about getting my grade up.”

She lowers her phone enough to peer over the top of it.

“Your lipstick is smeared,” Shoko says.

Your hand moves to cover your mouth. “Shit! Is it really?”

Slowly she pushes herself up from her spot on the couch. “Yeah. Who the fuck did that?”

“Gojo.” You say the first name that comes to mind.

“Satoru can't keep his mouth shut. Half of this town would know by now if you did.” She says. “Who was it really?”

“Professor Fushiguro.”

Shoko’s mouth opens as if she has something to say. Her phone falls discarded into her lap. For the first time since you’ve known her, she seems genuinely speechless.

“Ieiri say something.” You say.

“I- are we- we’re talking about the same Fushiguro, right?” She asks. “You…”

“We didn't do… anything.” You say. “It was just a kiss.”

“Still-” she says, “you made out with fucking Fushiguro?!”

“The thing is… we didn't do anything.” You say.

“Does he know you're a virgin?”

“Jesus Ieiri,” you say, “how do you know that?”

“I’ve lived with you for like three years and you’ve never brought a guy home.” She says. “Did you tell him or not?”

“No.” You say. “The thing is, we didn't do anything. We kissed, and then he changed the subject, and I left.”

“That's boring.” She says. “Please tell me you’re going to call him back.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don't,” she says, “I just think this is entertaining,

“By the way- I’m staying at my parents place for the weekend,” she says, “so don't get yourself locked out again cause I won't be around to let you in.”

…

It's not until the next lecture on Wednesday that you see Toji again. For once, you’re early; one of the first to class, and one of the last to leave. You stay a little later than normal, waiting for the others to file out of the room.

“y/n, can I help you with something?” He asks.

"I need help with this project. I wanted a second opinion on it." You say.

“Of course. Come into my office.” He says. “Please close the door behind you.”

There's a soft click as the door latches behind you.

This time you’re the first to initiate the kiss. Toji meets your movements with equal force. What you're not expecting is his tongue to meet yours, the strong muscle prodding into your mouth. You may have been the one to initiate it, but he’s the one leading it.

“You’re trembling,” he says. His hand moves to rest on your neck- not applying any force, it's more of a protective gesture. “You’ve had this day in mind for a while, haven't you?”

Whether it's on purpose, or on instinct, your body freezes.

“I’ve looked at your attendance records. My class is one of the only ones you regularly attend. Though it's rare that you sit in the front, or even ask questions, it's clear you’re attentive. Whether or not you use this talent for good is up for debate, but that's besides the point,

“It seems you’ve noticed me. And I have certainly noticed you,

“I would be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued. If you're not, that's absolutely fine. Just say the word and this will never come up again."

"I want to," you say, "I've just… never done something like this before."

His eyes narrow.

"Take some time to think about it," he says, "there's no need to rush into such things,

“We are both adults- we can both make that decision. However, on my part it would be extremely unprofessional. And if it were to be discovered, doing such a thing could hurt your reputation.”

“Fushiguro-”

“Just Toji,” he says.

The rough pad of his thumb traces your cheekbone. You find yourself leaning into his touch. His body is so warm, and he just smells so nice.

“I’ve had time to think about it,” you say, “and I want this. I want you.”

Toji swallows hard. Though his composure is mostly calm, his desire threatens to crack through that mask of his.

“I want you to… show me how to do this,” you say, “I want you to be the one to do it.” There’s no hiding the way you blush. Asking him for such a thing feels lewd. But there's something about the inherent wrongness of it that makes it more appealing.

He hikes you up to sit on his desk. The sudden weightlessness makes you gasp. Your arms scramble for purchase against his much larger form, eventually finding their place wrapped around his neck. You part your legs just enough to give him room to stand between them. You shudder as his hand trails up your thigh. You’re glad you chose not to wear tights today. He lets out a hum of approval as his fingers find your slick cunt. You’re so wet already…

“What do you want me to show you?” He asks.

“I just want you to touch me,” you say.

There’s no stopping the moan that escapes you as his rough fingers brush across your clit. Your hand moves to cover your mouth, to help stifle the soft moans that spill past your lips.

A smug “oh” leaves him, followed by a “is that sensitive?”

He's taking his time toying with you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm, letting you sit on that edge but never falling down the other side.

The feeling as his fingers press into you is a whole different type of pleasure. Just the one at first, then a second. There's little resistance as he presses into you—you’re wet enough that you’re practically dripping down his hand—but it does sting a bit. It's a pleasant stretch, and you can hardly call it painful. His eyes seem to darken as you clench around his fingers, silently begging for more.

“Shit- you're tight,” he says, “gotta prep you first.”

“What are you-” you’re hardly able to get your words out as he’s getting on his knees, pressing a chaste kiss to your thigh. Your hands find his hair, tangling in his dark locks, prompting a soft grunt from him. Though his lips are firmly latched to your thigh, muffling any noise he is making. He's… marking you. Leaving dark hickeys on the inner parts of your thighs, where only he can see them.

He licks a long stripe up your slit, tongue barely grazing your swollen nub on the way. His fingers are digging into your hips so hard you're certain they’ll bruise in the morning. You’re trying your best to stay quiet and failing. It's hardly your fault his mouth feels so good. The only noises aside from your own hushed moans, are the sounds of a man very content with what he’s doing. He latches onto the bundle of nerves, lapping and sucking like a man starved.

It's hard to say just what sends you over the edge, but between the torture of his tongue, and his fingers pressing against your sweet spot, you’re amazed you’ve lasted this long. When you do finally cum, you cum hard, clamping your thighs around his head and squirming once overstimulation registers in your lust-addled mind. It's not until you’re pushing his head away from your swollen clit that he gives in, allowing you a moment to rest.

A knock at the door causes you to nearly leap out of your skin. Toji moves back to rest his head on your thigh. His soft breath tickles your skin.

“I suppose we’ll have to continue this another time,” he says.

If he had a say in it, he’d fuck you over the desk here. You’re just too cute, sprawled across his desk like this, skirt bunched up around your waist showing off your slick cunt. Truly irresistible. He thinks he’d like the sight of you in his bed even better.

Embarrassed, your hands move to cover your face.

If you don't ask him now, you don't know if you’ll ever work up the courage to do it.

“How does coffee sound?” You ask. “There’s a new shop that opened up downtown- you know the one by the mall? I was thinking Saturday- I have the day off of work.”

He lets out a small, amused sounding huff. He was just two knuckles deep in your cunt and you’re asking him to coffee?

“That sounds nice.” He says.

When he kisses you, you can taste yourself on him.

…

It's raining again. It's not your alarm that wakes you, but thunder. The poor weather carried on all through the night, and well into the morning. Your plan to walk seems less and less like a good idea. This doesn't seem like weather you can wait out.

After an hour, the rain still hasn't let up, but canceling your plans is the last thing you want to do. Eventually you grit your teeth and bear the walk to the coffee shop.

Toji’s standing under the shelter of his umbrella, eyes glued to his phone. He’s worried about being seen with you- not that he’s embarrassed by your presence, but being seen with one of his students in a situation that can be perceived as romantic could harm your—if not both of your—reputations. But that worry is completely forgotten when you stand on the tips of your toes to kiss him- just a peck on the cheek. He almost looks surprised that you dared to do such a thing. Almost.

“Can we go inside before I catch a cold?” You ask.

Taking his hand in yours, you head inside.

You order two mochas- white chocolate; hot for him, iced for you. The barista takes down your orders and names. Toji pays, which you insist on doing at first, but he declines.

“Your dad seems so nice,” the barista comments.

Your mouth opens as if you have something to say, but you figure it best to keep quiet.

“She's uh… not my daughter,” he says. You’re hardly holding back a giggle.

“Oh,” she says, her tone of voice is sweet enough but the look in her eyes says she’s cringing internally, “have a nice day!”

You grab your coffee and thank her, praying the weather will let up soon. But the rain shows no sign of stopping as you step out onto the street.

“Do we look similar or something?” You ask once you’ve exited the shop.

Toji laughs. “I think I’m just old.” He says. Almost too old for you. Almost.

“Yeah,” you say, “you are an old man.”

If looks could kill, his would. “You wanna say that again?”

“Sorry!” You squeal, letting out a soft “old man” under your breath.

His arm tightens around your waist, pulling you closer, drawing a high-pitched giggle from you. You try to hide your face in his coat. He’s tugged you under the cover of his umbrella, your head cradled against his chest.

“Wait, I'm gonna spill my coffee!” You say.

He loosens his grip enough for you to fix the lid to your cup. You stick close to him, still under the shelter of his umbrella. There was never anything on the news about this storm… What feels like an hour passes and the rain still hasn't let up.

“This damn weather-” You say. “Want to stop by my place to dry off?”

“What about your roommate?” He asks.

“Shoko’s at her parents for the weekend,” you say.

Though your answer is innocent enough, he senses something darker behind it.

You’re hardly through the door when he starts trying to tear your clothes off. Not that you’re complaining. His lips are against your neck, hardly caring what marks they leave, and how visible they’ll be. Warm hands work their way under your shirt, palming your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

“My room is…” you motion vaguely to the left, “that way.”

Your legs wrap around his waist as he hauls you into his arms. You gasp as you're tossed onto the bed roughly, Toji crawling on after you. His strength never fails to amaze you. There's the sound of his jacket hitting the ground as he shrugs it off his shoulders. He cages your body under his much larger one, attacking your neck with his lips, leaving a trail of dark marks down your skin. He shoves your bra up over your breasts, kneading the soft flesh greedily. Your nipples stiffen when exposed to the cold air of your room.

Toji is nothing short of greedy as he takes you in, eyes scanning over your form. Embarrassed, you move your arms to cover your face. In an instant his hands are softly gripping your wrists, gently guiding your arms away from your face.

"Don't hide from me," he coos, "I want to see you."

When you do work up the courage to move your arms, he says a soft "there's my girl"

Fuck. Something about being called his girl has you soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. He moves to press a chaste kiss to your lips, hands wandering down your sides. Your skirt has bunched up around your hips as your legs widen to allow him room to settle between them. Toji’s on his knees, fingers ghost across the small damp patch that's formed on your panties. Lacy and white. Cute. They look even better when they’re ruined.

Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for any friction he’ll provide. It feels as if your throat has gone dry. You need him to touch you.

“More, Toji,” you whine.

You lift your hips enough for him to slip your skirt—along with your panties—down your hips. Your clothing is quickly discarded, along with his shirt. Your eyes fall to the bulge in his pants. The sight is practically enough to make you drool.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this- haven't given any thought to how he looks. But your imagination only pales in comparison to the real thing.

His arms hook around your hips, pulling you flush to him. It's near impossible for him to hold back when you’re laid out for him like a full course meal. The purple marks on your thighs still haven't faded. They’re certainly lighter, but not gone entirely. He leaves a few more- a parting gift. Three up each thigh. High enough that your skirt will hide them. Even you’ll have a hard time seeing them. They're only for him. It's a selfish want of his to mark you up- mark you as his.

Your hands bury in his hair, his name spilling past your lips like a prayer. His mouth latched onto your cunt, lavishing your clut with affections from a hot tongue. There's little you can do to stifle the moans that leave you.

Your orgasm ends up rolling over you sooner than either of you expected. If the circumstances were any different, you’d be embarrassed. More than embarrassed, if you’re being honest. Your thighs tremble, squeezing around his head as you ride out your release on his tongue.

When he pulls away, his chin glistens with a mixture of saliva, and your own cum. The look in his eyes is nothing short of feral. He can only imagine how you’d look bent over his desk, fucked-out and leaking his cum. How the threat of being caught would make this so much sweeter. But there's something to be said about how intimate having you under him is. How soft and sweet you are as you melt into his touch. His hands trace over your body, taking in every dip and curve, like he’s trying to memorize your form.

“Look at you,” he says, “so pretty.”

Your hands work to undo his belt, helping to free his cock from his boxers. He's… huge. The head is an angry red, and leaking precum all over you, and the inside of his boxers. You're certain you could hardly wrap your hands around the base. The soft patch of pubic hair at the base is dark, and unruly.

One of his large hands moves to cup your face, thumb tracing across your cheekbone. Your hesitation makes him pause.

“We don't have to keep going if you don't want to,” he says. His voice is soft. The rough pad of his thumb traces your cheekbone.

“I want this,” you say, "it's just… so big."

You suppose it's fitting; the rest of the man is huge, why would this be any different? Yet you find yourself intimidated. How are you supposed to take it? Will it even fit?

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, with such conviction that you can only believe him.

“W-what do I do?” You ask.

“Just lay back,” he says, “all you have to do is tell me if something doesn't feel good.”

Internally he scolds himself for not bringing protection. This is one thing, but knocking you up is another.

“Do you have a condom?" He asks.

"No, but I'm on the pill," you say.

Good enough, he thinks.

There's a slight sting as he presses into you, but any pain is quickly overwhelmed by the pleasure of being filled so completely. His fingers hardly compare to his cock, and how it presses against every sweet spot in your cunt.

Toji can hardly hold back his groan as he bottoms out. His head falls into the crook of your neck, soft words of praise falling past his lips. It's mostly nonsense; mindless praise, and a struggle to keep his composure. You clench around him, practically pulling him back in.

“How's that?” He asks.

“Good,” you say, but your voice is so quiet you fear he hasn't heard you. You feel tiny—miniscule—underneath him.

With a soft “good girl” his teeth find your shoulder, leaving a crescent-shaped mark where they’ve dug into your flesh.

He gives you a moment to adjust to his size, moving your legs to rest on his shoulders. The new angle allows him to move deeper into you than before. He's hardly moving and you’re already seeing stars.

“Toji please,” you say with a whimper.

“Please what?” He says. “Use your words princess.”

“Fuck me,” your words come out as barely a gasp. You’re breathless, blushing and writhing under him.

The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust. His pace is brutal, unforgiving as he drives his hips against yours. The two of you have long since stopped bothering to keep it down. You're certain your neighbors aren't going to like him. Or you, for that matter. The walls aren't exactly soundproof.

“You feel- fuck- so fucking good,” he says, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. This one is full of need, and practically scorching in nature. There's the faint taste of coffee on his tongue, mixed with the taste of your cunt.

His hand moves to trace circles around your clit, only urging you closer to your release. Toji’s thrusts grow more erratic as he nears his release, which is nearing him far sooner than he’d like.

“Fuck!” You cry out, “m’gonna-”

“Go ahead, princess,” he says, “m’ not far behind.”

Your walls clench around him hard as you gush around his cock. The tension in your stomach snaps, pulling you apart and putting you back together wrong. Toji lets out a groan as your cunt flutters around him. His name leaves your lips in broken moans as he paints your womb white. Hot strings of his cum flood your fertile womb, streaming down your thighs as he pulls out, which he does so slowly as to not make a mess.

He moves to rest beside you on the bed, laying on his side. You nuzzle against his chest, seeking his warmth, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne. Goosebumps rise along your skin as his fingers trace the curve of your spine. Soon his hands find your thighs, kneading the sore muscles under his skilled fingers.

In a bit you’ll have to get up to clean yourself up. You’ve made a mess of more than just the sheets. But between the soft sound of his breathing, and the feeling of his nails across your back, there's little you can do to fight off sleep.

“M’ gonna go shower,” you say, “wanna join me?”

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Can We Be Wrong Tonight? - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Colin Zabel x Reader

Work Summary: In the wake of Missy Sager’s disappearance, you’re having trouble staying safe while making ends meet. Colin Zabel x Sex Worker!Reader.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Word Count: 1205

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @trashmaximoff @josephines-simps-fics @cursedandromedablack @raincoffeeandfandoms @pappachismoth @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Taglist info.

Notes:

It's finally finished, sorry it took so long. Warnings for hospitals, vague discussion of injuries Hope you enjoyed it.

---

Your throat was dry. There was a steady beep, beep, beeping that sat at the edge of your consciousness, and it was driving you crazy.

You tried to open your eyes but your eyelids were too heavy. Sleep was pulling on you again, and you fought against it. You didn’t want to sleep. If you were awake, that meant you were alive. You weren’t going to let it slip away without a fight.

A quiet moan escaped your lips. To your left, you heard a chair shuffling, and then there was a warm weight on your hand.

“Y/N?”

You knew that voice. Mustering all the strength inside you, you opened your eyes.

“Colin?” Your voice came out as barely more than a whisper. Sure enough, his face swam into view above you, fading in and out of focus. You realised that you were in a hospital room. Panic filled you.

“I’m here.” He squeezed your hand, but you shook your head.

“I don’t… have… insurance…” The words were laboured as they passed your lips. Your eyes stung with tears that your body was too dehydrated to make.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he said. “Don’t worry about that. It’s covered. The police department set up a fund to cover the victims’ medical bills and expenses. Please don’t worry about money.”

Your breathing slowed a little. His words hit you one by one, like a ball rolling down the stairs, and it took you a moment to piece it all together. It sounded too good to be true.   

“I want to… sit up…”

“Here.” There was a buzzing sound, and you felt the bed moving under you. It tilted you until you could comfortably see Colin without craning your neck. “Better?”

“Better.”

Before you could say anything else, a nurse walked in. “You’re awake,” she said. “That’s good.”

As she checked your vitals, you fought the urge to close your eyes again. Colin was here. If you fell asleep, he might not be here when you woke up. There was so much you needed to talk about.

“My throat hurts,” you said.

“I’ll get you some water when I’ve finished this,” she said, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around your arm.

“I can get her some water,” Colin offered, but you shook your head.

“Don’t leave.” You squeezed his hand.

“Okay, okay, I’m staying.”

As the nurse left the room, you struggled with what to say. You wanted to speak – speaking would keep you awake – but the words had left you.

In the end, you settled on, “how did you find me?”

Colin chuckled softly. It was a beautiful sound. “You remember that footage you got us months ago?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, we were able to see that Missy got in a van, but we couldn’t get a good enough view of the plates to ID it. But there was another girl. One who this guy tried to kidnap, but she got away. She was also able to give us partial plates. That plus the footage was enough information for us to track down the guy.”

He stopped talking as the nurse returned with a cup of water and paper plate with a slice of bread and a tiny pot of jam.

“Thank you,” you said hoarsely.

“If you need me, hit that button,” she said, indicating a button on the machine to your right, and then she left you alone with Colin.

There was a moment of silence. With trembling fingers, you tried to open the jam, but you couldn’t get a good grip on it. Without a word, Colin took it from you and opened it. He then took the small plastic knife the nurse had given you and spread the jam on the bread.

The two of you were quiet as you ate. You were full of questions, but the bread was taking all of your focus, and you didn’t want to miss a word. You felt self-conscious, chewing slowly, the flavour of the jam too rich for you in your current state. Still, you managed to swallow it down.

“I heard gunshots,” you said, once you had finished. “When you came to rescue me. What happened?”

He winced. “I took one in the shoulder,” he said, lightly tapping the area. Now that he mentioned it, you could see the bandages peeking out from under his shirt. “Mare managed to shoot him in the head. I was terrified-” He cut himself off suddenly, looking away from you.

“What?”

You could see him steeling himself. He turned back to you and took your hand in his. “I was terrified that I was going to die before we found you. I needed to know that you were safe.” 

A teardrop rolled down your cheek. “We lived,” you said, your heart racing. “We both lived.”

His warm hand cupped your face and his thumb swiped away your tear. You leant into his touch, exhaling slowly.

“You kissed me,” he said, and your eyes snapped to his face. “When I found you. You kissed me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I kind of thought you were a dream.”

A smile spread across his face. His dark eyes looked at you searchingly. The warmth of his hand on your face was comforting.

“Please don’t be sorry. That was the best kiss of my life.” A warmth bubbled up inside you. It was unlike anything you’d felt before; as intense as the heat of lust, but warmer, like affection. Like love. He cleared his throat. “I have to ask… that kiss… did it mean something to you? Or were you just relieved that you were being rescued?”

“Colin…” It was your turn to laugh now. Your chest and throat ached with the weight of it. “I really, really like you.”

His hand moved from your face to rest at the side of your neck. As he leant in towards you, you closed your eyes.

His lips brushed against yours – the softest, most chaste kiss the two of you had ever had – and you felt the blood rushing to your cheeks.

After a moment, he pulled away from you. His eyes were shiny when they met yours. His lips were pulled into a half-smile, revealing a dimple in his cheek.

“Do you wanna go out sometime?” he asked. “Like, on a date? A real, actual date?”

“I’d like that.”

His thumb stroked over your cheekbone again. “Your apartment is paid up for the moment too, so don’t worry about that. The victims’ fund is covering the rent and bills, and all that’s left over is for you to do with as you choose. It should keep you going for a while, at least.”

You tipped your head back and looked up at him with adoration in your eyes. “Thank you,” you said, and he shrugged.

“Don’t thank me. I’m just the messenger. Thank the people of Easttown for their generous donations.” He picked up your hand and laid a kiss on your palm.

“This is all overwhelming,” you said.

“Well, wherever you go from here, whatever you decide to do, I’m here, okay? We can sort through it all together?”

“Yeah,” you said, wiping away another tear. “I’d like that.”