#best lighting I've ever done

[rat-toothed-bat]

This was from Laketober 2020! I believe the prompt for this day was "Paradise", which is probably my favorite game in the series. I was so happy with how the lineart turned out on this one that I decided to go full color with it.

[taehyunghobi]

˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮ HAPPY BIRTHDAY HOBI! ✮˚.⋆. ݁₊

[serenhob]

I could be sleeping but this is what I choose to do instead

[peppermint-jade]

Happy Doctor Who premiere day!!! This poster was so pretty I had to paint it!

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[stormy-blossom]

Little sketch that ended up nicer than I expected...

[roadstostray]

oh jeez. so much broken glass. ill get the vacuum

bonus facts about this piece under the cut

ANYA: I gave her the nighttime screen because shes associated primarily with it. but in addition to that, I chose the nightscreen for her death being the brightest thing for her in the darkest time (why the moon is on hery) she takes power away from jimmy by making that choice. If you look in her eyes, you will see a bottle of pills. yeah. you get it. The glass shatter also represents her death

SWANSEA: first of all, I've grown up drawing nothing but twinks and furries. drawing swansea was the most fun ive ever had drawing something completely new. fat old man supremacy. okay, but i chose the sunset screen for swansea as he is a fading light. still bright, sticking around, but "on his way out." i added some pink to the water reflection to represent Daisuke and his influence on Swansea. Also there is a gun in his eyes. and the bullet hole glass. It's chaotic due to the nature of the wound (thanks jimbus) and for the fact i couldn't figure out how to do two bullet wounds.

DAISUKE (🎉): i picked the daylight screen for daisuke because of his bright personality. the clouds represent his doubt in being on the tulpar, but insistence on making the most of it. he has a slit on his brow and i hand it to you to decide which you like more. Either a scar from skateboarding that he tells people is from getting into a fight, or alternatively just something he does to be cool. he has an axe highlight in his eyes, in addition to the glass shatter being that of an axe hitting glass. chaotic, messy, but ensuring a mercy kill. thats why it's not clean at all.

Jimmy and Curly: Originally, jimmy was facing the viewer, and curly was also looking to the viewer. after an artistic fit of mania, i completely restructured him to turn his back on both the tulpar crew and the viewer. he looks to the viewer instead of curly, because he wants to be seen. even if he cannot face his actions (or us, the player.) I decided to put him in the blood ocean in curly's nightmares. jimmy displaces himself from a place of friendship to one belonging in nightmares. specifically for his treatment of curly. he invades curly's greatest fears as an unseen horror. i also realized curly would be looking to jimmy, as he never looks away from him in the game. gunshot glass shatter for jimmy too. its especially pretty because it was the best thing his ass could have done (i just thought it looked cool. no symbolism there)

stupid fun facts, to get references for jimmy i used vrchat.

bonus these as icons/wallpapers. use em with credit

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

I THINK HE KNOWS

drew starkey x fem!reader

(mood board does NOT depict reader’s appearance!)

SUMMARY: daniel craig introduces his daughter to his co-star drew starkey at the after party for the ‘golden globes,’ and they do more than just hit it off.🫣

based on this ask !! i got a little carried away with this one and i could genuinely write a WHOLE fic with drew x daniel craig’s daughter😫 i have so many ideas for this pairing, so lmk if you wanna see more !! i hope you enjoy this @drewstarrrkey <3

WARNINGS: fluff & smut (18+, MDNI!), cursing, alcohol consumption, flirty!reader, cursing, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it😣), switch!drew (mostly dom), like one (?) use of ‘good girl,’ body worship, LOTS of foreplay😝. (lmk if i missed anything!!)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k (i got REALLY carried away😭)

THIRD PERSON +

The energy of the Golden Globes after-party was electric. The clinking of glasses, low hum of laughter, and faint music filled the space. Celebrities mingled under the soft glow of chandeliers, conversations buzzing with excitement about the evening's wins.

Drew Starkey sat at the bar nursing a glass of champagne, still slightly stunned from his earlier win. He'd barely had time to process the moment—his first major nomination and now his first big award.

The crowd was overwhelming, but his co-star, Daniel Craig, had insisted he celebrate properly. Drew watched as Daniel cut through the party with his unmistakable presence, shaking hands, embracing friends, and flashing that rare smile that could light up a room. Behind him, someone followed, and Drew's attention lingered just a little too long.

"Starkey!" Daniel's voice carried above the noise. Drew straightened instinctively, placing his glass back down as Daniel approached.

"Hey!" Drew smiled. "Congrats again. Well deserved, man."

"Thank you. Same to you." Daniel clapped him on the shoulder before stepping to the side. "I want you to meet someone."

Stepping forward with a confident stride was a young woman, poised but relaxed in a way that suggested she belonged in a room like this. Daniel turned to her with an almost affectionate roll of his eyes.

"This is my daughter, Y/N."

Y/N smiled and offered her hand to Drew. "Hi. I've heard so much about you."

Drew shook her hand, his mind scrambling for composure. "You too. I mean—I haven't heard about you in that sense, but your dad's mentioned you. Not in a bad way—uh, I mean—" He stopped, exhaling with a self-deprecating laugh. "Sorry, I'm a bit flustered. It's nice to meet you."

Y/N grinned. "Quite the introduction, Drew."

Daniel raised a brow at them both, clearly amused. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. I see a few friends I need to go bother." He glanced at Drew. "Behave yourself."

Drew let out an awkward laugh. "Of course. Always."

Daniel walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Y/N turned back to Drew, tilting her head slightly as she observed him. "He's very fond of you, you know."

"Is he?" Drew replied, trying to play it cool. "He's great. Working with him was... surreal, honestly."

"I'd imagine. I've seen the movie, of course. You were phenomenal." Her tone was warm, genuine, and Drew found himself smiling at her praise.

"Thank you. That means a lot."

She leaned against the bar, signaling to the bartender for a drink. "You look surprised."

"I guess I just... still don't know how to take compliments," Drew admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's all been a bit overwhelming."

"You shouldn't be so modest. Your performance was stunning. And you've got the trophy to prove it." She shot him a teasing smile. "Don't let it go to your head, though."

Drew laughed, finally feeling himself relax. "I'll try my best. And you—your dad said you're an actress as well? And a model?"

"Here and there. I've done some niche indie films—ones that play in small theatres no one ever goes to." Her voice was light, self-deprecating but playful.

"Niche or not, that's impressive." Drew met her gaze. "What kind of roles?"

Y/N paused as the bartender slid a glass of wine her way. "I guess you could say I play a lot of brooding, lost souls. The ones who always seem to sit by windows and stare out dramatically."

"Ah, very serious. Lots of silent contemplation?"

"Exactly." Y/N laughed softly. "But enough about me. Tell me about Queer. It must've been... intense to film."

"It was." Drew nodded, leaning his elbow on the bar as he turned toward her. "Luca Gaudagnino has this way of making you feel completely vulnerable. It was a challenge, but I trusted him. There's this scene—I'm sure you remember it—where my character completely unravels."

"How could I forget?" Y/N said softly, her eyes locked on his. "You were so raw in that moment. It was almost uncomfortable to watch because it felt so real."

Drew blinked, feeling his ears heat. "That's what Luca wanted. He kept pushing me to 'stop acting,' as he put it. He'd say, 'Feel it. Don't pretend to feel it.' I'd never worked like that before."

"Well, it paid off. Watching you was like watching someone break open right in front of me. Vulnerable, stripped back..." She paused, taking a sip of her wine. "And now here you are, Golden Globe in hand."

Drew looked away, smiling sheepishly. "I'm still processing it."

"You deserve it," Y/N replied firmly. "And no one here is going to let you forget it."

Drew looked at her again, unable to ignore the spark in her gaze. She was bold—not just in what she said, but how she carried herself. It was disarming. "You've got a way with words."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Y/N smiled mischievously. "So tell me, Drew Starkey... how's the fame treating you?"

He groaned playfully, shaking his head. "You're going to make me sound insufferable."

"On the contrary, I think you're handling yourself rather well."

"You say that now," Drew teased. "Talk to me in six months when I've gone completely Hollywood."

"Mm, I don't think that's in your nature." Y/N tilted her head thoughtfully. "You seem far too grounded for that."

"You don't know me yet," Drew countered.

"Well, I'm a very good judge of character. Comes with the territory of being Daniel Craig's daughter—lots of egos to sift through."

Drew raised his brows, amused. "Is that right?"

"Absolutely. I'm rarely wrong." She gave him a sly look. "And my read on you so far is: humble, charming, and maybe a little too hard on yourself."

Drew chuckled, caught off guard. "You're bold."

"Life's too short not to be."

Drew shook his head with a small smile. "And what's your read on yourself?"

Y/N leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to feel conspiratorial. "That would spoil the fun, wouldn't it?"

Drew swallowed, the teasing lilt in her voice setting him slightly off balance. There was a beat of silence between them, the kind that crackled with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, reaching for his champagne. "You're a mystery, Y/N."

"And you're still a little flustered," she teased, her grin widening. "Do I make you nervous, Drew?"

"Maybe." Drew gave her a crooked smile, holding her gaze. "But I think you like that."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and rich. "I do. I'm not afraid to admit it."

Drew shook his head in disbelief. "You're something else."

"So I've been told." She took another sip of wine, her expression softening just a touch. "But really—what's next for you? After all this?"

Drew shrugged, glancing around the room as if the answer might be hidden somewhere among the guests. "I don't know. This feels like such a huge moment, you know? I almost don't want to think about what's next. I just want to enjoy this."

"As you should." Y/N nodded approvingly. "Don't let anyone rush you."

"I won't." Drew paused, meeting her eyes again. "But... I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared of what comes after. What if I can't live up to it?"

"You will," Y/N said softly, her tone sincere. "You've got the talent, Drew. The rest will follow."

Drew studied her for a moment, his chest feeling strangely warm. "You're very good at this."

"At what?"

"Making people feel seen."

Y/N smiled, her expression unreadable. "Maybe you just needed someone to see you tonight."

Drew felt his heart skip, the weight of her words settling between them. Before he could respond, Y/N placed her empty glass on the bar.

"Come on," she said, standing. "You're far too interesting to spend the whole night glued to this bar stool."

"Where are we going?" Drew asked, standing to follow her.

Y/N looked over her shoulder with a mischievous smile. "You'll just have to follow me."

And he did. Without hesitation. A “Yes, ma’am,” slipping from his lips.

Drew followed Y/N as she led him away from the bar, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. She moved with a sort of practiced ease, as if she'd spent her whole life in rooms like this—grand, glittering, and full of famous faces. Drew, still buzzing from the champagne and the residual adrenaline of the evening, was mesmerized.

"I'm dying of curiosity here, where exactly are we going?" Drew asked, his voice tinged with amusement as they turned down a quieter hallway leading away from the main party.

"Somewhere a little less chaotic," Y/N replied, glancing back at him. "Unless you'd rather keep bumping elbows with half of Hollywood."

"No complaints here," Drew said, matching her steps. "I think I've shaken enough hands tonight to last me the rest of the year."

Y/N pushed open a door at the end of the hall, revealing a small terrace overlooking the city. The night air was cool, crisp against their skin as they stepped outside. The noise of the party dulled behind them, replaced by the distant hum of Los Angeles and the quiet rustling of trees in the breeze.

"Better?" Y/N asked, turning to face him.

Drew exhaled, his shoulders relaxing as he looked out over the skyline. "Much better. Thanks."

Y/N leaned against the railing, watching him with an unreadable expression. "You looked like you needed an escape."

"I guess I did." Drew joined her, leaning beside her, their arms nearly brushing. "It's a lot, you know? I'm grateful—don't get me wrong—but... I don't think I'm cut out for the whole schmoozing thing."

"Most people aren't. They just pretend they are." Y/N's lips curled into a small smile. "Besides, you've already done the hard part tonight. The rest is noise."

Drew glanced at her, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. "You're good at this—reading people."

She shrugged lightly, her tone playful but laced with truth. "It's my party trick."

"Anything else I should know about you?" Drew teased. "Other hidden talents?"

"Plenty," she replied with a grin and a cheeky wink. "But I'm not about to give them all away at once. That would ruin the mystery."

Drew shook his head with a laugh, tucking his hands into his pockets. "You're impossible."

"I get that a lot," she said, unfazed. "But you haven't run off yet, have you?"

"No," Drew admitted, his smile softening. "I haven't."

Y/N's gaze lingered on him for a moment before she looked back out at the city. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever think you'd end up here?" She gestured vaguely to the world around them. "Holding a Golden Globe, being the name on everyone's lips?"

Drew was quiet for a beat, choosing his words carefully. "I don't think it ever felt real enough to imagine. I wanted it, of course—I worked for it—but this? This feels like someone else's life."

"And yet, here you are."

"Here I am," he echoed, looking at her. "What about you? You've grown up in all of this. Does it ever lose its shine?"

Y/N's expression faltered, just for a moment, as if the question touched on something deeper. "Sometimes," she admitted. "It's easy to feel like you're just a part of the machinery—another face in a sea of them. But then you meet someone who reminds you why you love it, why it's worth it."

Drew tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Is that why you act? Because you love it?"

"Because I can't not do it," Y/N said simply. "Even when it's thankless, even when no one's watching... I need it."

Drew understood that. It resonated deep within him—the need to create, to express, to push boundaries for reasons that weren't always tangible.

"I get that," he murmured. "The best moments are the ones no one else sees. The ones you do for yourself."

Y/N turned to face him fully, her eyes sharp and intent. "Exactly. And that's what makes what you did in Queer so powerful. It didn't feel performative. It felt real, like you gave a part of yourself away for it."

Drew swallowed, her words hitting him harder than he expected. "I'm honoured. That's... the best compliment I've ever gotten."

"It's true," she said softly. "And for what it's worth, I think you're just getting started."

Drew looked at her, something shifting between them in the quiet. He felt seen—more than that, he felt understood. Y/N Craig, with her razor-sharp wit and unwavering confidence, had peeled back his layers in a way no one else had managed all night.

"You really don't hold back, do you?" Drew said, his voice low.

Y/N smirked, stepping closer. "Why should I? Life's too short for subtlety."

Drew's breath hitched as the space between them narrowed. She was close enough now that he could catch the faintest trace of her perfume—something heady and elegant that suited her perfectly.

"You're dangerous," Drew said, his voice a little unsteady.

Y/N arched a brow, clearly amused. "Am I?"

"Yeah." Drew's lips curved into a small smile. "The kind of person who makes you forget to play it safe."

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes locking with his. "And do you always play it safe, Drew Starkey?"

Drew hesitated for just a second before answering. "Not tonight."

Y/N's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eyes. She reached up, her fingers brushing the lapel of his suit jacket. "Good."

The air crackled between them, thick with unspoken possibilities. Drew could feel his pulse quicken, every sense heightened as Y/N held his gaze. She was testing him, waiting to see what he'd do.

And for once, Drew didn't think—he just acted.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

Y/N's smile was slow and deliberate. "I thought you'd never ask."

Drew grinned, a mix of nerves and excitement flickering across his face as Y/N tugged him by the hand, leading him back through the terrace door. The pair slipped back into the hallway unnoticed, the music and chatter of the afterparty drowning out their hasty footsteps.

"Are we seriously sneaking our way out right now?" Drew whispered, though the grin he wore betrayed any hesitation.

"Unless you'd rather stay and talk to George Clooney about his favorite vineyards," Y/N teased, looking back at him with a mischievous smile. "Then we need to make haste!"

Drew huffed a quiet laugh. "Okay, fair point. Let's go."

They moved quickly, dodging small clusters of guests and waitstaff like a pair of teenagers sneaking out of school. Every time their eyes met, a fit of laughter threatened to spill out of them.

"Act natural," Y/N mock-coached as they passed one of the party coordinators.

"Yeah, because that's going well," Drew shot back, trying to suppress his smirk.

Finally, they pushed through a side exit and found themselves in the cool night air, away from the golden haze of the afterparty. The parking area was quiet, save for a valet who barely looked up as Y/N called for a car.

"God, I feel like we just got away with murder," Drew muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood beside her.

Y/N grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed. "Feels kind of good, doesn't it?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah... yeah, it really does."

The car pulled up, and Y/N wasted no time climbing into the backseat. Drew followed, sliding in beside her and shutting the door. The silence in the car was loaded, broken only by the faint hum of the radio and the distant sounds of the city.

"Your hotel, I assume?" Y/N asked, glancing at him.

"Yeah." Drew cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the weight of what they were doing hit him. He glanced at her and added softly, "If that's okay."

Y/N gave him a teasing look. "Wouldn't be here if it wasn't, would I?"

Drew felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he covered it with a laugh. "Right. Fair point."

The ride to the hotel felt like a blur, the two of them making light conversation as they both tried to ignore the electric undercurrent running between them. When the car finally pulled up to Drew's hotel, he shot Y/N a nervous glance.

"You sure about this?" he asked quietly.

Y/N's lips twitched into a smirk as she leaned closer, her voice low and teasing. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?"

"Definitely not," Drew said quickly, earning another quiet laugh from her.

They hurried through the lobby—heads down, hands brushing but never fully touching. Drew felt like his heart was pounding in his ears as they reached the elevator. The moment the doors slid shut, Y/N let out a giggle, biting her lower lip.

"We look so suspicious right now," she whispered.

"You look suspicious," Drew shot back with a grin. "I look like someone trying not to have a heart attack."

She rolled her eyes playfully, stepping closer to him. "Relax, Golden Globe winner. No one's paying attention to us."

"That's the problem," Drew muttered under his breath, earning another soft laugh from her.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped onto Drew's floor. He fumbled briefly with the keycard as Y/N watched, clearly entertained by how flustered he'd become.

"Need help?" she teased.

"I've got it," Drew replied quickly, finally getting the door open. He held it for her as she stepped inside, and he followed, shutting it behind them.

The hotel room was simple and sleek, the lights dim as Drew tossed his keycard onto the desk. He turned to find Y/N standing near the window, looking out at the glittering cityscape. She turned to face him, her expression softer now, though still full of that familiar mischief.

But it was like something had switched in the air. Drew leaning back against the door as he studied her.

"So," he began, his voice quiet but laced with an edge that made her stomach twist, "I bet you think you're calling the shots tonight?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "I mean, I guess we'll see who's running this show, won't we?"

Drew pushed off the door, taking a slow step toward her. His movements were deliberate, almost predatory, and Y/N found herself instinctively taking a small step back. But she wasn't about to let him see her falter. She leaned forward slightly, her lips quirking into a smirk.

"You walk like you own the place," she said, her tone teasing. "But I bet you're all talk."

Drew stopped just inches away from her, his breath warm against her skin. He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone who seemed so intent on dominating the situation.

"Careful, Y/N," he warned softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You might be surprised at what I'm capable of."

His fingers trailed down her neck, and she shivered despite herself. What is this? she wondered, her earlier confidence beginning to waver. There was something magnetic about him, something that pulled her in despite her best efforts to maintain control.

"Or maybe," she countered, tilting her chin up defiantly, "you're just trying to scare me."

Drew's lips twitched into a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "But why don't we find out?"

Before she could respond, his hands were on her hips, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together. Y/N gasped softly, her pulse quickening as his proximity overwhelmed her senses. His lips were so close to hers, his breath mingling with hers, and she couldn't help but tilt her face upward, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, his voice rough and intimate. "And I'm not one for playing games."

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how much taller and stronger he was than her. But she wasn't about to back down. "Good," she said, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Because I like a challenge."

Drew's eyes darkened, and without warning, he dipped his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was commanding, urgent, and left no room for doubt about who was in charge. Y/N's hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tightly as she tried to steady herself against the wave of desire that washed over her.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entry, and she parted them instinctively, allowing him access. The kiss deepened, grew more intense, and Y/N felt her knees weaken. Drew held her firmly, his hands sliding up her sides to cup her face, angling her head to deepen the connection.

When he finally pulled away, Y/N was breathless, her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and falling rapidly. She blinked up at him, dazed and disoriented, and realized with a jolt that she'd completely underestimated him.

"As wonderful as that was," Drew said, his voice husky and raw. "I think I need to go slower. Test your limits."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she stared up at him, realisation dawning. He's not bluffing, she thought, her earlier confidence faltering. Drew was lethal, charming, and utterly in control, and she had walked right into his trap.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Drew's lips curved into a wicked smile as he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Everything."

His hand slid from her hip to the small of her back, pressing her closer against him. The heat between them was electric, a palpable tension that threatened to ignite at any moment.

Y/N's breath came in short bursts as she tilted her head up, her lips parted in anticipation. He's not going to kiss me, she thought, not yet. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers flexed against her skin, told her she was wrong. He was going to do exactly what he wanted, and she was going to let him.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "Tell me how much you like this."

She hesitated for a split second, but only a split second. Her boldness was ingrained, a survival mechanism honed by years of attention and expectation. "I like it," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "I like that you're taking control."

Drew's smile was slow, predatory. "Good girl," he said, the words soft but laced with authority. He kissed her then, a deep, bruising kiss that left no room for doubt. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding, exploring, claiming. Y/N melted into him, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance as the world around her dissolved into sensation.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathless. Drew stared down at her, his blue eyes gleaming with something that made her stomach twist. "You're not in control here, sweetheart," he said, his tone conversational but firm. "Not anymore."

Y/N swallowed hard, her earlier confidence faltering. He's right, she realised. I walked into this thinking I could handle him, but he's handling me. And God, it was intoxicating.

Drew didn't wait for her response. Instead, he turned her gently, positioning her with her back to him. Her heart raced as she felt his body press against hers, his chest warm and solid against her spine. His hand cupped her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. She gasped, arching into his touch.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice rumbling against her ear.

She nodded quickly, too caught up in the sensations to form words.

"Good," he said, his grip tightening momentarily before he released her. Y/N blinked, confused, as Drew stepped back. He moved to the bed, sitting down and leaning back on his elbows, his legs stretched out in front of him. His gaze was intense, predatory, as he watched her.

"Take off your dress," he said simply.

The command hit her like a bolt of lightning. Y/N hesitated, her hands moving instinctively to the zipper at the back of her gown. She glanced at Drew, expecting... something. A smile, maybe, or a reassuring word. But his expression remained unchanged, a mask of calm dominance.

He's serious, she thought, her pulse quickening. He wants me to do this for him.

Slowly, deliberately, she began to unzip her dress. The fabric slid down her shoulders, pooling at her hips. She shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Beneath it, she wore only a lace bra and matching panties, the delicate garments doing little to conceal her arousal.

Drew's eyes roamed over her body, lingering on the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the slight tremble in her thighs. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "But not enough."

Y/N's brow furrowed. "What—"

"Shh," he interrupted, raising a hand to silence her. "Don't talk. Just listen."

Her breath caught in her throat as Drew leaned forward, his movements fluid and precise. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the strap of her bra. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it sliding down her arm. Her nipples tightened immediately, peaking under his scrutiny.

"Perfect," he said, his voice a low purr. He cupped her breast in his hand, squeezing gently. Y/N bit her lip to stifle a moan, her legs trembling beneath her.

Drew's free hand reached for the waistband of her panties, tugging them downward until they clung to her hips. He paused there, his fingers tracing the edge of the fabric before hooking his thumbs into the sides and pulling them down her legs.

Y/N stood before him completely exposed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal. Drew's gaze was relentless, unapologetic, as he took in every inch of her.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

She obeyed, her movements stiff with nervousness. When she faced away from him, Drew's hands returned to her body, one stroking down her spine while the other traced the curve of her ass.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, his lips lingering as his hands explored her body with increasing boldness.

Y/N's knees nearly buckled beneath her. This is happening, she thought, her brain struggling to keep up with the intensity of the moment. He's really doing this.

Without warning, Drew spun her around and pushed her backward onto the bed. Y/N landed with a soft thud, her heart pounding as she looked up at him. Drew loomed over her, his expression dark and commanding.

"Spread your legs," he ordered, his voice sharp and clipped.

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. Is this what I want? The question flashed through her mind, but the answer was already there, buried beneath the haze of desire clouding her judgment.

She spread her legs, her breathing shallow and uneven. Drew's eyes flicked down, noting her readiness with a smirk.

"Good girl," he said, the words dripping with approval. He knelt between her thighs, his fingers skimming the inside of her knee before moving upward. Y/N's breath hitched as his touch neared her core, her body tensing in anticipation.

And then, quite suddenly, he stopped.

"Wait," he said, his voice firm.

Y/N blinked up at him, confusion and frustration warring within her. "What?" she managed to whisper.

Drew's smile was wicked, almost cruel. "I need to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

His fingers pressed against her inner thigh, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. "Tell me what you want," he demanded. "Tell me how much you need this."

Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, her confidence faltering under his unrelenting gaze. "I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Drew's expression hardened, his hand withdrawing from her thigh. "Then we're done here."

"No!" she cried, desperation clawing at her throat. "Please, Drew, I—"

"Say it," he interrupted, his voice a low growl.

She hesitated, her pride warring with her need. But she needed this, more than she cared to admit. "Please," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I... I need you to fuck me."

At her admission, Drew's control snapped. His hands and lips were everywhere, leaving no part of her untouched, no moment unexplored.

And within a split-second, he pushed into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her body adjusting to his size, her muscles tightening around him. Drew began to move, his rhythm slow and steady, building the tension once more. He watched her face intently, reading every twitch and moan, adjusting his movements to maximise her pleasure. It was as if he could feel every sensation she was experiencing, as if they were connected in a way that went beyond the physical.

He leaned down, capturing her mouth in another bruising kiss. His hand found her clit, his thumb circling it in time with his thrusts.

The cacophony of sounds filled the room: slick skin connecting, Y/N's breathless whimpers and cries of pure pleasure, Drew's soft moans. But to them it sounded like a symphony; a truly bewitching one.

"Y/N," Drew said her name like a prayer, his voice ragged with volatile emotions. "Look at me."

She obeyed, meeting his gaze as tears of ecstasy blurred her vision. This was it, she realised. This was what she'd been missing. The raw, unfiltered connection, the trust, the surrender.

"Don't look away," he commanded, his voice fierce but tender. "Stay with me."

She nodded, her breathing shallow as she clung to him, her body tense with anticipation. And then, as if on cue, her climax hit her like a tidal wave, her entire body convulsing with pleasure as she screamed his name.

Drew followed soon after, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he poured himself into her, his body shuddering with release. For a moment, they lay there in silence, their hearts pounding in sync.

"So," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "Not a bad way to celebrate your first Golden Globe win, is it?"

Drew let out a soft laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Not bad at all."

Y/N grinned, lifting her head to look at him. "Good. Because I plan on reminding you about this night for years."

Drew rolled his eyes, though he was smiling. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Not a chance."

Drew shook his head, pulling her closer. "You're the worst."

"And yet, here we are," Y/N teased, settling back against him.

Drew couldn't argue with that. As he lay there, listening to her quiet breathing and staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think that this was, without a doubt, the best night of his life.

(dividers by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

i had SO much fun writing this request and i REALLY got carried away XD i hope this wasn’t too long, and was exactly what you wanted my lovely :) request are going to be open for the next 24 hours so get some in if you have anymore everyone !! <3

thinking of starting a tag list if anybody’s interested? as always, hearts and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[muqingslover]

[ I've seen how Caleb is often described to be a sex god without any experience at every first time (and I eat it up) but I also think we should discuss the other side of it. Kinda of an addition to my previous post ]

Let's discuss virgin Caleb that since he hit puberty has been struggling with his own desires and when he finally received the green light from you it's like a dam was unleashed.

This man is BEYOND sensitive. And so damn needy too, to the point that greedy would be a much more suitable word for him.

He started having wet dreams about you after the first kiss and the walk of shame to the bathroom every morning to wash his boxers is very real.

He's got a leaking and painful boner every time you kiss him for a little too long and he can't get enough of the taste of your tongue on his.

Having you on his lap is both bliss and torture. He'd try to hide the fact he's hard the first few times, not wanting to scare or pressure you, but each time your hips pressed down against his boner he'd be rolling his eyes back into his head and forcing down a groan.

I'm a dry-humping truther and I firmly believe the first time he came with you was by rubbing himself against your leg like the dog he is while you two were making out.

Caleb is mortified about his first experience with a blow job and he wishes you'd forget such an embarrassing moment of him.

But in all honesty, it wasn't his fault. You offered out of nowhere, which left him no time to mentally prepare, and just by having you kneeling down in front of him with your hand wrapped around his cock had him gripping the edge of the desk behind him, to the point the wood creaked at the sheer pressure.

And when you licked along the precum that was dripping down his length and pushed your tongue against his swollen tip he came and he came hard. His cum coating your face, getting onto some parts of your hair and in your mouth.

It goes without saying that he spent the rest of the day apologizing, but the sight of you swallowing his cum that had gotten onto your lips made him dizzy and hard again.

I'm sure he'll be fantastic in bed eventually, but your first time is a mess. Literally. Caleb is so eager to explore the body he's desired for so long and to please you as much as you do to him.

Everywhere he can reach is littered with dark and very obvious hickeys.

He'd have your hands pinned next or above your head so you couldn't touch him otherwise he knows he won't last at all.

Though, all his efforts bear no fruit because the second this man bottoms out inside of your warm and tight insides he is cumming again.

His body would tremble as he held his entire weight on his forearms to not crush you and he bit down on his lips.

After switching condoms, you'd have to get on top while his shaky legs recover from his orgasm and oh gods he's really trying his fucking best right now.

He's panting against your neck when you roll your hips and cause a loud moan to escape his lips, followed by his strong arms wrapping around your middle like a bear hug as if to keep himself grounded. It's rather cute, really.

He'd come with you this time, if not a little before from you clenching around his cock and the sweet whimpers because he's oh so very sensitive.

His hands would feel up your thighs then shamelessly grab your ass while he looked up at you, loving the view of you on top of him and he's got the cockiest grin you've ever seen on his face.

Now we're talking about someone with YEARS of suppressed sexual desires so you better brace yourself because he's far from done.

Caleb would use the entire night to learn everything he possibly can about your body, besides what he already knew. Each sweet spot that make you cry so good for him and just how deep he can hit inside of you to have you gasping for more.

He's sloppy, he's desperate, he's pathetic and it's messy. He'd ask between shaky breaths and his tone is almost whiny "Does that good? I need you to talk to me sweetheart, c'mon."

"Tell me what you want and I'll do it. Teach me how to make you feel good."

"Can I go deeper? Fuck- Please? Please? you feel so good-"

"I can't stop— Just one more, I'll make it good for you too, please, gods please, I need more of you or I'll go insane."

Caleb is the type of pathetic loser that would get a nosebleed while he pounded into you for the nth time.

He'd kiss you when you showed concern, spit trickling down your chin as the taste of iron would spread on your tongue before he pulled away to admire the sight of you completely disheveled for him. Because of him.

He licks the few drops on your chest, the crimson smearing with the sweat glistening on your skin and leaving a trail that only added to the perverted satisfaction that you're his.

Almost every position is crossed off the list in a single night and he's willing to do anything you ask of him. You want to ride him again? He's sat. You want him to hit it from the back? He's got you on your hands and knees already. You want him to eat you out? Please, by all means take a seat on his face. You have complete control over everything that happens most of the time.

It's morning by the time you two pass out, or run out of condoms in the box honestly, but you can fully expect him to try something when he gets into the shower with you the next day. Hey, he's just helping you clean up like a good boyfriend should ;) .

[steddiealltheway]

As soon as Steve hears the phone ring, he sighs.

Robin is away visiting her family in Kentucky for the holidays, and the only other person to ever call would be...

"Dustin," Steve says, his free hand coming up to rest on his hip, "why are you calling?"

There's a pause on the other line before Dustin whines, "How do you always know when it's me."

"Because your irritating energy bleeds through the phone."

Another pause. "You got that from Robin, didn't you?"

Yes. He did. Sue him for wanting to be witty and taking a few notes from Robin. "What do you want?"

"Okay, so..." Oh boy. "I've been meaning to talk to Suzie for a while now, and we made plans not to talk on Christmas because she would be with her family all day, and I knew my mom wouldn't want me to be away for too long so-"

"The point, Dustin."

Dustin mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like multiple curse words before continuing, "The point is that I'm taking Cerebro to that hill, but I'm going to need a ride."

Steve frowns, walking toward the nearest window until the phone cord is fully stretched so he can pull a curtain open. He winces a bit at the bright light. "Dustin, it's freezing out, and the hill will be covered in snow."

"You would've done the same for Nancy!"

Steve's eyebrows raise. "Not the best approach if you want a ride, dude."

"I'm not trying to approach the whole you and Nancy thing. I'm trying to make a point," Dustin emphasizes a little too loudly into the phone. "You would do anything if you were in love! Even sit out in the snow for a few hours just so you can talk to the person you love."

"Have you ever heard of the phone?"

"Have you heard the number of siblings she has that would jump at the opportunity to listen in on our call? Plus, Cerebro is our thing."

Steve really wishes Dustin were in front of him, so he could see the way his cheeks are flushing during this exact moment. "You just like using your Cebro thing because it makes it feel like your love is forbidden."

"I do not!"

"Alright, Romeo," Steve says with a laugh, "I'll give you a ride. If you promise to only be there for an hour."

"Not including the time it takes to get there, set it up, and leave."

Steve sighs and knocks the phone against his head for a second before reluctantly agreeing, "Yes, but you better be bundled up so much that you're sweating out there. I don't want to hear you complain." He also secretly worries about the kid getting frostbite or something, but he'd never admit to it.

"Fine I'll see you in an hour?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then," Steve says as Dustin hangs up. "A thank you would've been nice..."

He really hopes he doesn't regret this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

When Dustin climbs in the car, he's bundled from head to toe but still manages to laugh at Steve who is wearing the same amount of layers as him. "Look in the mirror," Steve comments dryly before driving off.

The drive there isn't too long, and although Steve saw Dustin a few days ago - after Claudia insisted he spend Christmas with them instead of home alone - he's kind of glad to hang out with Dustin again. It's not often he gets a lot of one-on-one time with the kid anymore.

Which is why Steve is particularly bitchy when he pulls up to the familar area below the hill and find a familar van there.

"Dustin..."

"I didn't think you would agree to take me here and stay! So, I asked Eddie to give me a ride back this morning-"

"This morning?"

"And he said he was already going to be in the area and wanted to briefly meet Suzie and my Cerebro, so he's here now! And if you want, you can just drop me off. Think of it as a late Christmas gift."

Steve shakes his head. "And leave you in Munson's capable hands only to find out you two froze to death? No thanks." He gets out of the car with thoughts of a mourning Claudia Henderson on his mind.

"We wouldn't freeze to death!" Dustin practically shouts as he climbs out.

At that same moment, Eddie exits from his van, wearing his usual attire, only with maybe an extra added layer - a leather jacket.

Steve turns to Dustin, raising his eyebrows and gesturing toward Munson. Dustin sighs before going to the trunk to dig out all the different Cerebro parts.

Before Steve can join him, Eddie approaches him with a big smile. "Steve Harrington. Looking awfully toasty."

Steve rolls his eyes in response before openning his car door and reaching toward the back, grabbing the spare pair of gloves and a hat that he keeps whenever Robin forgets the extra layers - which is often. He hands them to Eddie without a word then helps Dustin grab his things before heading to their snow covered destination.

Eddie only lasts a few minutes up the hill before he manages to push into Steve's space while Dustin hurries ahead of them. "So, you look happy to see me."

"Just peachy, Munson."

Eddie snorts. "I'm guessing Dustin didn't tell you I would be tagging along when you got here?"

"And I'm guessing Dustin didn't tell you I was planning on staying."

"Actually," Eddie says, nudging Steve's shoulder, "I told him you would jump at the opportunity to hang out with him, and there was no way you would drop him off to freeze to death."

Steve narrows his eyes as he looks at Eddie.

Eddie shifts things around in his arms to grab his shirt and jacket and lift them up enough to show off some of his scarred skin. "Our matching battle scars will forever bound us, Steve. I wonder if the bats gave us telepathic abilities," he says, way too cheery for Steve's liking.

"If it did, then I would teleport up to the top of the hill right now."

"Telepathic means the ability to read each other's minds. The word you're thinking of is 'teleportation.'" Eddie corrects him without judgement - something Steve's always found surprising.

"Oh. Then guess what I'm thinking about right now."

Eddie hums before leaning in to mumble in his ear. "You're thinking about getting a piece of this."

Steve laughs and shoves him away. He's glad it's cold out so he blame his blush on the cold. For some reason, he's still not entirely immune to Eddie's flirting. "Definitely not what I was thinking about."

"You are now," Eddie teases.

Steve swallows heavily, pressing down those thoughts and many... many.... images. "I think you're confusing my thoughts for your own thoughts."

"Tell me about it," Eddie sighs dramatically.

Steve is relieved when he sees they've reached the top of the hill. He's even more relieved when Dustin doesn't ask for his help to put Cerebro together, but Eddie is all too happy to help while calling Dustin a genius - in various annoying, dramatic ways.

It's not long before Dustin is awaiting Suzie's response while Eddie bounces on his feet. Steve's not sure if it's from excitement or being cold - probably both.

"Dusty bun?"

Dustin's face lights up in a way that is entirely too endearing for Steve's heart to handle. The jedi has learned the art of love from the master - or something like that. "Suzie poo! I'm here with Steve and Eddie for the next few moments. Eddie wants to say hello."

Steve frowns and raises his voice, "I want to say hello, too! Eddie just wants to be dramatic about it."

"Because I haven't had the pleasure of meeting the lady," Eddie argues before turning up the charm. "Suzie, it's a pleasure. I'm sure you've heard nothing but wonderful things about me just like I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you. Unlike Steve over here who you've probably never heard a good thing about."

"Hi, Eddie, it's nice to meet you," Suzie replies, giggling. "And hi Steve!"

"Hey, Suze. Don't let Eddie win you over with his charm just yet. It's bad for his ego."

"You think I'm charming?" Eddie asks, batting his eyelashes.

Steve makes a see? gesture before realizing Suzie can't see him.

"Alright," Dustin says, "Now they're going to leave us alone for the next hour."

"Hour? It's already been at least five minutes," Steve complains.

Eddie grabs him by the shoulders and steers him away. "Don't worry, Suzie! I'll make sure you get the fulll hour!"

Steve lets Eddie guide him a little down the hill, ignoring when Suzie asks, "Do they always bicker like an old married couple?"

When they get a comfortable distance away, where they're out of earshot but Steve can still see Dustin to make sure he doesn't freeze to death, Steve sits on the ground. He glances up after he gets as comfortable as he can get on the side of a hill, only to find Eddie frowning down at him.

"What?" Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. "Doesn't seem fair that you get to sit on the ground, and I can't."

Steve's eyes scan over Eddie's body. "Not my fault that you didn't wear a long enough jacket to cover your ass when you sit."

"Not my fault that I wasn't born into a wealthy family that can afford those jackets."

Steve's stomach flips, but he knows Eddie isn't looking for an apology. "Why don't you sit in your van then?"

"Wouldn't want to miss my chance to hang out alone with Steve Harrington," Eddie says with a wink.

Steve nearly scoffs and gives him a snarky reply, but his thoughts go out the window when he notices Eddie's teeth chattering. "Shit," he mutters.

"What was that?"

Steve groans and stands up before unzipping his large jacket.

"Am I in a dream?" Eddie jokes, but his voice shakes a bit.

"You're about to be living one," Steve says dryly as he stands in front of Eddie and opens his coat. Eddie just stares at him. Steve huffs out a breath that becomes visible in the cold air between them. "Come here."

"What?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at Eddie before tugging at his coat. But Eddie continues to stare at him with wide wandering eyes. "I'm not letting you freeze to death up here, so come here before I tell Dustin to pack it up because you're cold."

Eddie crosses his arms a little tighter. "I'm f-fine." A shiver visibly runs through Eddie's body.

Steve rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundreth time this day and wraps Eddie in his jacket before he can protest.

He's stiff for a moment, then Eddie relaxes enough to wrap his arms around Steve who is able to close the jacket around them. They linger in each other's arms long enough that Eddie stops shivering and Steve wonders how much time Dustin has left with Suzie.

"Better?" Steve asks to break the silence.

He feels Eddie nod over his shoulder before he pulls back enough to look him in the eye, nose brushing against Steve's as he whispers, "I know something we could do to keep ourselves warm."

Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest.

Eddie laughs and tucks his head into Steve neck, his lips far away enough from Steve's that it's no longer the only thing on Steve's mind. With the new brain space, he can feel Eddie drum a nervous rhythm onto his back and bounce a little on his face. He wonders if maybe Eddie was onto the whole scars making them read each other's minds thing because he swears he knows the first part of what Eddie's about to say before he says it.

"Sorry if that was too much. No guy has ever let me flirt at them the way you do."

Steve gets stuck on flirt at and, "No guy?"

Eddie lets out a short humorless laugh. "No guy."

And for some reason, Steve has to ask, "Has any guy let you kiss them before?"

Eddie pulls back to look at him with a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "What are you getting at, Steve?"

Steve glances at Eddie's lips, slightly chapped but they've never looked more inviting. Maybe it's time to listen to Robin's knowing looks whenever Eddie is around and Steve finds himself simultaneously drawn to him while also wanting to run to the bathroom with Robin to have another floor talk. "What if one guy let you kiss them?"

"Steve..." Eddie whispers, his eyes flicking over his shoulder.

Steve turns to find Dustin, facing away from them. Still he loosens his hold on Eddie and says, "Wrap your arms around my neck instead of my back."

Eddie does as he's told, and Steve gives him no warning before saying, "Hopefully this goes alright." Then, he slightly picks up Eddie before falling back, letting the snow break their fall as he lays back with Eddie on top of him.

"That went better than I thought it would," Steve says with a big smile then asks, "Can Dustin see us?"

Eddie glances up and shakes his head.

"Perfect," Steve says, heart practically beating out of his chest when Eddie looks down at him. When he doesn't make a move, Steve can't help but tease, "So you really are all bark, no bite."

"Shut up, Harrington," Eddie says before finally kissing him.

For only a moment, Steve nearly laughs at the fact that Eddie Munson told him to shut up. But then his brain goes nearly haywire yet completely silent when Eddie's lips meet his in what he thinks might be the single most transformative kiss of his life.

His arms tighten around Eddie's back, and Eddie's hands move to cup the back of his head as they deepen the kiss. Somehow, laying in snow, Steve has never felt warmer.

They eventually break the first kiss reluctantly, both of them going back to steal more as they catch their breath, which turns into laughter and giggles between more kisses. Then, Eddie breaks away long enough to say, "You know, the van is seeming like a really great option at the moment."

"And Dustin's a smart kid. He knows how to not freeze to death," Steve says, kissing Eddie every chance he gets.

"You're right. No need to stay here in the snow," Eddie replies.

"Right."

Neither of them make a move to get up, but they both move to kiss again.

It's only a little while later before they hear Dustin yell out, "Guys?" And that's when they finally break away.

Eddie pops up first and calls out, "Yeah?"

"Let's pack up! It's been over an hour! Come on!"

Steve pulls Eddie back down into the snow one more time for a kiss before stomping up the hill. "Alright, alright. We thought you'd be happier that we gave you more time and that we both waited for you."

"it's cold," Dustin complains.

Steve nods, but he still feels warm.

Eddie joins a few moments later, stealing glances at Steve before asking Dustin what they're doing next.

"I'm thinking we change out of our snow clothes and get food somewhere maybe..." Dustin trails off and frowns at Eddie. "Why are you covered in snow?"

"We were making a snow angel?" Eddie hurriedly says.

Steve tries not to laugh.

"One?" Dustin asks.

Eddie nods. "You'll see it on the way down."

Sure enough, on the way down, they all see one horribly disfigured snow angel.

While Steve laughs and Eddie smiles proudly, Dustin shakes his head and mutters something like more curses to himself. In a volume that's able to be picked up by the other boys, he asks, "Eddie, you'll drop me off at my house, and we'll meet back up in an hour at my house?"

"Hour and a half," Steve says. When Dustin opens his mouth to complain, Steve explains, "I need to take a shower so I don't get pnemonia. Plus, I'm not letting my hair freeze on my way to your house."

"Fine," Dustin sighs. "See you then."

"See you then," Eddie echoes to Steve, winking at him once.

Soon after Steve gets home, he hears a knock on the front door, and when it's Eddie on the other side, Steve pulls him in and says, "Maybe you were right about the telek- tele-"

"Telekentic abilities?"

Steve nods as he closes the door behind Eddie and traps him against it. "I definitely know what you're thinking about now."

Eddie cocks his head to the side and wraps his arms around Steve's neck. "Yeah? What am I thinking about?"

"Kissing me again," Steve says, leaning in.

"Actually," Eddie says turning his head away, "I was thinking about a lemon."

"Crazy. I happen to have lemon scented body wash," Steve comments as he grabs Eddie's hands and tugs him up the stairs.

They're both a little late to Dustin's house. And maybe their hair freezes a bit.

But Dustin was right. There's a lot of things Steve would do for love.

[alexiroflife]

Can you maybe write a drabble abt y/n who is really really bad at accepting kindness or was emotionally abused/neglected in their past

jjk men when you react poorly to their affections...

cw: angst, mental health struggles, mentions of generational & domestic trauma

-> hello all, thank you guys so much for all the sweet messages and the patience while i've been MIA. i really hope you enjoy what i've been working on for you! just a heads up, some of these are longer than others dependent on the scenario (and because i don't know when to shut up), but i hope i've done this request justice! i love you all and hope you're having a lovely weekend! <3

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo: hesitation to touch!

satoru's first instict before and after he discovers that he has fallen in love with you and worked to make you his is to clobber you with physical affection. he is ever the passionate man when it comes to his feelings, which have come around to him rather suddenly amid his weighted occupation and past experiences with unnurtured, trampled love. when he feels himself drawn to you for the first time, his lack of personal awareness in terms of others' space shines through, and he is attached to you at the hip.

satoru wants to throw his arm around you, hold your hand, guide you to the side by your waist just to catch a glimpse of how it feels for his hands to be pressed to your lovely frame, even if it is for just a milisecond.

as the two of you progress past a boundary of friendship slowly and mutual interest is made evident, satoru's affections shift and his desires double, triple, quadruple what they were before. he watches you with dazzled starry eyes, hands seeking to grab you up and pull you into him so that he can sprout kisses all over your beautiful face, down to the shoulders that support your neck and the legs that keep your body standing.

and satoru surely does try to expand his sense of affection directed toward you once you have gotten into a relationship after what he feels has been so long, but he can not help but notice how indifferent you are to all of it. satoru has never known you to be a mushy person, for when it comes to hugging you or kissing a cheek, you tend to shy away from him. he does not take it personally at first. he has known you long enough to understand that you have never been a woman of affection, and unfortunately he does not stray against your general preference. nevertheless, as satoru's love for you grows hand in hand with his physical needs, he begins to have doubts, fears, suspicions.

in truth, satoru does not know or understand the extent to which you avoid affection. it is not that you do not desire to be loved by the man in your life, or that you do not wish for him to express his love in the particular manner that he chooses to. you adore satoru, and you can see how he struggles to hold himself back when his eyes light up with that desire you know so well by now, the desire to hold you and wrap you up close. it pains you especially when you catch wind of how he deflates when you turn him down, his hands falling back down to his sides from a rejected invitation to his chest, and his glossy lips pressing together in a tired smile displaying both his desire to respect you as well as his poorly hidden disappointment.

while remaining understanding and desiring to make you happy, satoru begins to bring light to the conversation as time goes on. when he asks you about it “causally" after hours of thinking of the best way to approach you, you brush him off once more.

“you know i’m not a touchy person, satoru,” you would tell him. “that’s all it is.”

and god, does satoru want to believe you and move on with all his heart- he wants to be okay with your boundaries, to push aside his own to ensure that he does not offend you, and while it kills him he would hate to make any move that would bring you to resent him or anything associated with his touch.

but he just can’t.

he does not want to completely admit that it is partially because he craves the feel of you more than anything he has ever wanted in his entire life, for the main reason he is concerned is because he knows you are hiding something from him, something big.

his suspicions only manifest into truth one day when he reaches past you to grab something on the counter as you stand beside him, and due to your focus on your own task at hand, you are startled by the motion. you subsequently flinch slightly, a poor habit of the past reviving momentarily due to your uncertainty and distraction.

you feel the air around you immediately tense and it registers what you just did. when you slowly turn, you catch the look of pained horror on satoru's features as he slowly lowers his hand, having forgotten completely what he was initially doing.

"i-" you go to explain yourself, but no words come out. you realize that there is no painless way to describe your actions, why you flinched, why you never want to know what it feels like to be touched by a man who loves you because the last one who claimed he did lied, took advantage of your trust, and weaponised his physicality in the worst possible way.

you shudder, stepping back subconsciously. "i'm sorry, i-" you shake you head and look down to the floor. "i don't know what came over me."

"...(y/n), did you think i was gonna hit you?"

you can't even register his words. they go through your head like a harsh breeze. "no," you're quick to say. "...i just-"

"then what was that? why did you-?" you hear the silence rise after he cuts himself off. you imagine his mind whirring, his heartbeat pounding. you hate to make him feel this way.

he attempts to move closer to you, which you allow since he does not approach too quickly. "you understand that i would never- never hit you. right?"

his question lingers as your brows draw together and the lump in your throat hardens, the topic sensitive enough to send you spiraling.

he ducks slightly to try to catch your eye. "(y/n)? you know that right? please tell me you do," he pleads softly.

"i do," you mumble. "i don't think- i know you-"

"baby, can i-" he reaches instinctively for your hand then quickly retracts. you watch as his fingers curl his hand into a fist at his side before swiftly releasing. "wh- i'm so sorry. i just- why-" he struggles to find the words as you stand before him like a child preparing to get scolded. "why did you flinch like that?"

and he sounds so broken by your action, so completely defeated that you can feel the shakiness of his voice rattle your bones.

"did... is someone... hurting you?"

christ, satoru can only manage to keep the building fury within him at bay, as he wants to be present for you to understand what you're going through in your head, but the very idea of someone laying their hands on you makes an inexplicable rage rush over his body.

you take a deep breath in, sensing his growing panic. you knew that you would have to come face to face with your past one day, now that you are moving on and experiencing love in a manner you never got to before. you belittle yourself for allowing the signs to slip so soon, but you have to give satoru a little credit. you know he has been antsy about your hesitation to touch, and you doubted you were going to get away with the petty excuses you'd been coming up with for much longer.

"(y/n)?" the white haired sorcerer asks again with impending urgency.

"no, no one's hurting me," you assure him quickly. "i'm sorry toru, i didn't mean to freak you out."

"please don't apologize," he begs. "i just need you to help me understand what just happened. i don't want to pry, baby, but seeing you flinch like that isn't something i can just let go."

"i know," you gulp, voice shrinking.

"hey..." the consolation in his low voice urges you to look back up at him slowly. his brows are drawn together and his eyes search yours, soon darting all over your face and taking in every detail. "what's wrong?"

and in the moment you know he knows. he's piecing together every moment you've awkwardly gone rigid when his arm has carefully pulled you into his side, every time your mouth turns with nerves each time he goes to kiss your temple, every time you have rejected his advances not because you don't want them but because you're afraid they aren't real, that they will be weaponized against you, that they are a mask for some darker intention.

you know satoru's spirit. you know that he would destroy the very world you inhabit for you as long as you're safe and protected. you know that what you feel is true love, unconditional love. you know that. you see that. he shows you that, but your traumas leave you petrified. shadows of the past lurk behind his very frame and threaten to tear apart everything good you are slowly building.

"it's not you," you tell him after a moment and he is still with silence, sensing a confession, an explanation that he has longed to hear. "it's never been you."

"then what is it, baby? what's been going on?"

"i can't-" you struggle to find the words as the memories begin to choke you. you sputter. "i- i haven't had- you're the first-"

"(y/n), breathe," he instructs softly and you do. though he isn't touching you, you feel the security of his presence wrapping around you as if you were tucked in a safe embrace. "it's okay. you don't have to force yourself to tell me anything if it's too hard for you."

"i know, but-" you shake your head at yourself as if disappointed in your own actions. "i just- i know you want more from me. we've been dating for almost two months and i barely kiss you, i barely let you hug me, we haven't even had sex-"

"that stuff doesn't matter to me, (y/n)."

"yes it does, satoru. i see it all over your face. you're getting impatient with me, i know you are."

"don't do that," he tells you. "i'm not upset with you for taking your time. i realize affection is something that you're not comfortable with, and that's okay."

"but it's not okay for you. you want more- you need more-"

"i need my girlfriend to be okay," he interjects as he holds your gaze. "i need you to feel safe. i don't ever want you to feel like you owe me anything, (y/n). you don't. i love you whether i'm touching you or not and that will never go away. yes, my love language is different from yours, but that doesn't mean i'll ever get tired of you. sure, it's hard sometimes, but i'm okay. your wellbeing means more to me than anything else, you understand that?"

you swallow hard, overwhelmed. "it's not that i don't want-"

"it's okay."

"but i don't want to leave you hanging."

"(y/n). it's okay."

"...my ex... he..." you find yourself stumbling over your pending confession once more, straying from satoru's gaze to make what happened to you feel less raw, less real. and satoru studies you, dreading what is to come, heartbroken for what he has begun to discover without you even having to say it. "...when we were together..."

your brows twitch as something comes to life in your head, and satoru immediately knows to turn your attention away by speaking up after prolonged moments of weighted silence. "it's okay, (y/n)," he echoes for a third time, and this time you hear the sheer sadness dripping in his soft tone, the admiration of your strength, his guilt, his love, his patience, his fury. "you don't have to say it. it's okay."

"i just don't want you to think i don't love you..."

"i don't think that, baby. i know you love me. i love you too, so much."

and there comes the break in your exterior, the crack in your voice, the vulnerability that overshadows you. your mind revisits the betrayal, the fear, the hatred of the past and how it haunts you, how it is engraved in you, no matter how much closer you come to healing.

"but i don't know how to love you the way you need."

"all i need is you, (y/n). nothing else."

satoru sees it written all over your face and his heart is sinking. he wants to help you, support you. he wants you to know that everything will be alright as long as you lean on him, as long as you know that he is not the same and would never take advantage of your trust, of your affections, of your soul and your love.

he'll kill him. he'll kill whoever hurt you, whoever's abuse tore you apart and made you shrink into yourself, shrink away from confidence and certainty and true affection. he'll tear him apart, destroy him from the inside out for his crimes against you, for tainting your past so terribly. for dimming your light and making you hurt.

but before that, he needs to be there for you. he moves to do so in the best way he can, stepping forward and opening his arms to hold you. he doesn't think, forgetting about your hesitation with physical intimacy for the sake of wanting to protect you, so he's moving in until he catches your eye again.

he sees the way you hold yourself back, how panic subconsciously swirls in your eyes. he freezes, looking over you slowly in realization before dropping his arms to his sides quickly. "i'm sorry, pretty. i don't mean to cross your boundaries. i just..." he doesn't know what to say, words seeming to fail him when he concludes that he has no idea how to help you. "i'm so sorry."

you know he is apologizing for everything you've experienced, for not understanding why you are the way you are, and for not knowing how to be there for you all at once.

you think way back to when you and satoru first met. to the times you spent getting to know each other through work. the times he would make you laugh unexpectedly with his stupid jokes, the times he would begin to hover you despite having to tend to the first years' training, the times you would catch him staring shamelessly only for him to subject you to endless flirting. the times he'd reach for your hand, only for yours to tense in his until he'd awkwardly release it, sensing your discomfort. the times you would still when his lips met your cheek. the times you'd dodge him simply to avoid the painful interaction of watching him reel back sadly when you'd step away from his presence, scared not of touching him but of what may happen if you allow him to fully cross that line.

you think back to every time satoru has proven himself a completely different person from your ex, and yet the trauma of being with him overpowers what you have been blessed with.

you look up at your boyfriend desperately, apologetically, gratefully and find that you have nothing to say either. you can see his internal struggle, how distant he becomes despite still standing so close to you. he's so afraid of triggering you or hurting you, so he keeps his hands to himself, though they itch to seek you out.

your ex had made you so uncomfortable with touch that the memory of his began to plague any desire to feel satoru's.

and satoru is not him.

the two of you stare at one another, and for the first time you truly see the greatest sorcerer of the modern age before you. all of him. all the good that he is, the love he has to offer, to empathy he has for you, and the inviting warmth he emanates.

you feel something shatter inside you as an urge to be wrapped into a tight blanket of security washes over you. satoru's familiar cologne sinks into your senses, his glassy blue eyes silently willing you some sense of peace, even if he can't be the one to provide it. the man you love towers over you with no intention to go and yet no expectation of contact, and you melt.

you fall apart for the man that he is for you and the terror that he will never be.

your body is reacting before your mind can think, and satoru has no time to be shocked when you carefully step into him and push your body against his, curling your arms to your chest as he surrounds you and pulls you in.

your body shivers, scared of its unearthed wants until it registers the foreign sensation of gojo's snug embrace. he does not hug you too tightly, but instead lets you sink into him as his embrace follows. his fingers secure over your sides and his chin falls to your shoulder, your hearts hammering into one another's.

when you do not involuntarily jerk away, your brows curl together and your eyes glaze over. you register the firmness of his frame and how gently it cradles you, how safely you are tucked away into his scent, his protection, his anguish for all that you have been through.

you whimper at just how raw satoru's love feels for you in this state, as you see now that you have truly escaped what you have been dreading for as long as you can remember.

satoru feels that he can hardly breathe, overwhelmed by you and all that you have shown him with such little words. he hates how selfish he has been, for now he sees you wholly. he understands now, and he especially understands how big it is that you have found a desire for a hug, for him to hold you for as long as he has been.

so he savors it. he takes you in and keeps you close, wordlessly thanking you for trusting him and leaning on him when you needed to the most. you're so soft, so shaky that he crumbles on the inside.

you are everything. this moment is everything. for you, for the both of you. satoru can feel you begin to cry as a weight lifts from your shoulders, and his eyes water as he quickly follows suit. he knows that you will push away from him soon, that you will retreat once you register what you are doing, but that is okay. it's more than okay. this in itself is a ginormous step for you, a step toward seeing how much you mean to him and how fiercely he will protect you.

so he continues to hold you in silence, thumbs caressing soothingly over your shirt. he lets you feel him as he feels you. it is tender, it is peaceful, and it is finally safe.

suguru geto: emotionally disconnected!

for quite some time, suguru has noticed something about you.

normally, he would not consider himself the type to pry or press matters that he knows are out of his control or have nothing to do with him, but considering how deeply this has been impacting every aspect of your lives, he knows he can not go on without saying something anymore.

the black haired man would like to consider himself to be an emotionally mature person. when the two of you have issues, he's the first one to want to sit down and talk them out. when something is bothering him, he will wait for the proper time to approach you about the topic. he does not tend to overthink, for he sees things as they are and addresses them accordingly.

that having been said, suguru is not the most emotional person in the world. due to his prioritization of making sure things happen when the time is best suited for the situation, he still has a tendency to allow things to pile up internally. when he eventually sits down to discuss things, it is after they have been swarming his mind for at least a couple of days. he doesn't exactly see this as a problem, for he is occupied with work and his daughters as well as his relationship with you, but his self-awareness reminds him that putting things off is not always the healthiest habit, no matter how in tune he is with what he feels or how clearly he sees things.

and due to these habits that he has long been adjusted too, he always expects himself to be the "less available" partner when in a relationship. not because he does not want to open up, but because of how his tendency to put things off can be perceived. suguru knows how his behaviors can come off, and he knows that a part of his emotional maturity is understanding where he falls short. however, when the two of you first got together, he never would have expected to be the one struggling with your inability to be vulnerable.

suguru admires your strength. he admires your grit, your determination, your selflessness, and your drive. those traits of yours are just a few that initially drew him to you in the first place. you are strong, almost offensively so, and you do your best to support the family that the two of you are growing together. nevertheless, your strength can often meld into a painful tendency to block out not only emotion, but the entire world around you.

you are often so quick to offer logical or physical solutions. when suguru asks you to sit with him to talk something out, you present every rational reaction to an emotional problem. when he tells you that something has been bothering him, you offer to distract him by pulling him into the bedroom and shedding your clothes. though suguru does not overthink, you subconsciously make it seem as though he does when he presents you with some you are just emotionally incapable of understanding.

you turn your head away when you notice suguru holding onto something in his mind, you keep your lips sealed tight when mimiko or nanako approach the two of you with teary eyes in search of a little emotional consolation, allowing suguru to do all the talking as you sit one of them in your lap, and above all you never - never - allow yourself to feel disappointment or sadness or anger or shame if anyone does something that agitates or hurts you.

you never allow yourself to feel, fronting as though nothing can harm you or pierce your veil of strength that suguru would describe more so as an impenetrable wall.

suguru never considered himself to be excessively emotional, but in knowing you, he feels the most emotional he ever has been by comparison. you are impossibly indifferent, self-reliant, stubborn, and oh so emotionally unavailable. suguru loves you dearly and everything you do for your family, but he can not help but feel as though he is in a relationship with an unfeeling robot from time to time. with someone who chooses to evade with humor and sex and philosophy instead of just feeling.

suguru has known you for a long time, and he has noticed this about you from the day you met. you don't talk about your family, you don't talk about your past, you don't talk about feeling happy or sad, you simply act. you go about your day to day in a haze, brushing off things that happen to you like they are nothing. like you're afraid that the second you let one emotion in, you'll lose yourself or you'll be punished.

and the jade eyed man wishes he could understand why. he wishes you would open up to him and show him a piece of you that you've been hiding away. he wishes that he could sit down with you and actually have a meaningful, emotionally rich conversation, but you shut yourself off from anything remotely resembling such. you distance yourself, and it kills suguru. it makes him hurt for you, makes him wonder who could have possibly hurt you to the point where you condition yourself into believing emotion is the enemy.

as frustrated as he is with your habits, he is more worried for you than anything. he worries for your sanity as well as his, and for how much longer he can go on pretending like this is okay for you to do.

he decides one day, after having pushed it off for longer than he's held off on anything, that he will attempt to sit down with you and have a conversation. the girls are left with manami and miguel as suguru treats you to a day out over the weekend.

after a few hours out to lunch and shopping, suguru takes you to a nearby park that the two of you often visit with the girls. you take a seat on a bench by the trail, dancing trees shading you from overhead as streams of sunlight pour through the leaves. it's a quiet, warm day. things have finally calmed down after a few hectic weeks, and suguru is confident that he has picked the right time and place to speak to you.

"today's been really nice, sugu," you say absentmindedly as your head rests against the dark haired man's shoulder. his arm is stretched out behind you, resting on the back of the bench as he tilts his head to kiss yours.

"i'm glad you've enjoyed it," he smiles lightly. "we both needed a day for ourselves, don't you think?"

"hell yeah we did, work's been a pain in the ass," you chuckle.

suguru almost perks up, wondering if you are about to complain about your job or discuss how it has made you feel. "yeah?"

"yeah, but nothing i can't handle obviously."

your dismissal is so swift that it almost would have been impossible to notice if suguru hadn't known you so well and for so long. he sighs, deflating slightly as he looks over your head. "by the way... while i have you, angel," he starts. "i wanted to talk to you about something."

you have never been a fan of those words, of the anticipation that comes with it. what could suguru possibly want to discuss that he couldn't have mentioned before? why did he have to make an ordeal out of it by taking you to the park to talk?

those are the first thoughts that come to your mind, and you are quick to mention them. "oh?" you turn to lift your head and meet his gentle eyes. his fingers absentmindedly trace your shoulder as he watches you, preparing himself for what he knows will come. "you wanted to talk to me at the park?"

and there you already go, attempting to find reason in his behavior. "i thought it would be nice to get a change of scenery and treat ourselves."

"but you just said you wanted to talk. you did all this to lead up to that?"

he sighs. "(y/n), i just wanted to have a nice day with you."

"and you are. we're having a great day," you assure him as if it is so obvious. "but you also want to talk, so why don't we just talk? you don't have to make a thing out of it if you have something to say, you know?"

you shrug dismissively, as if none of it is a big deal, and it drives suguru crazy. he hasn't even begun to speak on what he wants to share with you, and he can already feel you anxiously pulling away despite you trying to appear so nonchalant.

there is a brief moment of silence as you wait, watching him expectantly. suguru nods to himself, pursing his lips momentarily before looking back at you and forcing himself to proceed with the dwindling hope of getting through to you.

"so what's up?"

he smiles knowingly, gently. "well..." he begins. "...i've been thinking about some stuff that's been worrying me."

"worrying you?" you echo.

"yeah. some stuff that i've noticed about you for a while now."

"me?" you repeat with a slightly uncomfortable chuckle. "what did i do?"

"it's not really... something you did, it's more so something you do."

you raise your brows up at him, astounded. "as in consistently."

"yes, angel."

you can feel yourself growing defensive as you process his words. "alright, then what is it? i can help clear it up for you if you misinterpreted something."

"i didn't misinterpret anything, (y/n). i've been thinking about this for a while."

"okay, what is it?"

your responses are so quick. you're eager to get to the point so that you can quickly denounce his claims, defend yourself, drill a hole in his head with the logistics of why his emotions are the issue and not you.

suguru can feel it brewing, can hear it in your tone. he's trying to practice patient so his frustration take control of the conversation, before he can allow your unavailability to stunt him.

he waits a few more seconds, giving you a cautious look before proceeding. it's now or never, he thinks. "i get nervous even thinking about bringing things up because you're always so quick to react like nothing matters to you."

"what?" you scoff a laugh. "what do you mean nothing matters to me? why would you think that?"

"let me finish," he heeds. "maybe i could have worded that differently, but you... (y/n), you've always been so strong. you've always proven to everyone that you're strong, but at the cost of some of your humanity."

"i don't undertstand."

"then let me finish talking."

you brows narrow and your body stiffens. suguru catches the first signs of you closing yourself off, leaning away, shutting down.

suguru waits for you to indicate that you are willing to continue to listen, and you give him a little toss of your hands upward as if to tell him to keep going, to tell him that there's no reason to pause because you are unbothered.

"every time i try to talk to you about something i feel, and everytime something happens to you that warrants you to be upset, you just brush it off. you pretend all the time like everything is okay when it may not be, and it's been hard to ignore lately. especially since we're both stressed from work-"

"i'm not stressed. i'm fine-"

"see, you're doing it now. and i told you to let me finish talking. it's like you can't help yourself."

you bite your tongue quickly, almost stunned by his boldness.

suguru lets out another sigh. "i'm sorry, angel. i'm not angry with you or anything, i'm just frustrated. you're always trying to prove to the world that you can handle everything that comes to you, and i get having to portray yourself one way to everyone else, but with me and the girls...? it gets exhausting. i don't want you to feel like you have to pretend with me. i want to stand beside you and i want to spoil you and love you and support you, but you make it damn close to impossible to do that when you don't let me in. you don't let me see you. and because you dismiss your feelings, you end up dismissing mine. and even the girls' sometimes. i know you don't do it on purpose, but you should know that it's a big thing."

"i'm not pretending, suguru," you frown when you decide that he has finished speaking.

"you are-"

"this is why i need you to come to me with these things the moment you think of them. you've been sitting on this and i haven't even been able to clarify so that you don't stress over it anymore."

suguru closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "(y/n)-"

"i'm sorry i never talked you about it before, but i'm just not an emotional person. we have different love languages, that's all. it's not that i'm pretending things don't bother me. they just don't. i don't stress over things like you might, and that's okay! sure, i can try to be more sensitive to what you think, but this is just a misunderstanding. that's all. c'mon, you really shouldn't yourself about this. i can see why it's exhausting you, you've got yourself all up in a bunch about it."

then you're laughing softly, as if it's all a joke. as if suguru is simply overthinking and you never do anything wrong. as if your own boyfriend hasn't studied you inside and out, known your tics when you hide something that bothers you, how you throw yourself into being present and hardworking to mask your fear of reality, of the things that keep you up at night when you think that suguru is asleep.

suguru's patience wears thin. he's done this dance with you a million times before and he doesn't want to do it any longer. he's tired. he's yearning for you and you just aren't there.

"i can't do this with you, (y/n)," he admits, slipping his arm from behind you. you watch him anxiously, confused. "i can't keep letting you do this to me and to yourself."

"but i'm not doing anything?"

"you are! you do it without even thinking. how can you not see that?"

"why are you raising your voice at me right now?"

"because i-" he sucks in a breath and runs his hands over his face. "i've watched you do this forever. we're getting old. i want to spend my life with you, and the girls love you, and you are truly an amazing person and girlfriend, but... it's like that's all you try to be. you're trying to put up this perfect front and it's building a wall between us. you're a human being. you're supposed to feel things. when you acting like you don't, it kills me. it really does. i have no one to talk to, no one to connect you. i don't know where you are."

"suguru, what are you saying?" you panic. "i'm right here. i always have been."

"you're physically here, but your mind is always somewhere hiding. i've seen the glimpses of you that hide away and i want to see more of that, but you just won't let me. and that habit makes you so absent... i mean, you're throwing logic at me whenever i talk about a bad day or feeling like we don't do enough together outside of taking care of the girls and going to work."

he takes in your face, watching as it drops into something he hasn't quite seen before... shame, insecurity, timidness.

his voice mellows out. "are you understanding anything i'm saying? i'm not overthinking. i'm tired."

you don't respond. you dissociate.

suddenly, you're eleven years old sitting at the dinner table with your mother as she stands over you with a hand pressed to the surface and a finger pointed a centimeter away from your face. your face is turned down as she berates you, calls you ungrateful for speaking up about feeling as though she was overreacting over a small mistake you had made.

how dare you, she'd say. i am your mother and you're the child, she'd day. because i said so, she'd say. don't talk back to me, she'd say.

and after she'd reacted that way enough throughout your childhood, emotionally manipulating you into feeling guilty for expressing your thoughts and your feelings at such a young age and training your brain to associate negative fragility with feeling, you trained yourself to slip away from expression, from your own emotion, and from your own boyfriend's.

emotion is weak, you would tell yourself. everything can be handled by a rational solution. no need to trouble yourself with the weight of pitying yourself or others.

you watch the past twenty six years of your life flash by as friendships fall by the wayside while you continue to climb higher into success, void of connection, empty.

until you met suguru.

he made you feel safe, feel seen, and it scared you, so you pushed away mentally. you found ways to financially and physically make him happy. when he presented you with an issue, you provided the best and only solution you know - to brush it off. to let things go. to avoid any possible resemblance of emotion.

you realize you are becoming your mother, and your chest caves in.

"(y/n)?"

suguru's warm palm holding your cheek pulls you out of your trance. you blink up at him with shrunken pupils, and the dark haired main sees that something heavy has dawned upon you.

you finally wake up.

"are you okay, angel?"

your mouth moves to speak, but you can't think of anything. it all comes rushing back to you, the aches in your heart that you have numbed for so so long. the depths of your love for this man and for your family, and how you can not afford to lose them.

your nose flares, and your brows slot downward in disbelief. "i didn't know i was doing that all this time."

"i know, babe," he whispers, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "i know. i just couldn't keep that in anymore. we can't go forward like this. you can't go forward like this. more than its destroying me, its destroying you."

your eyes scatter wildly about, as if you're searching for yourself, searching for an explanation for the behaviors you adapted. suguru grows concerned as he watches you.

"(y/n), are you okay?"

"i just didn't know. i'm sorry," you whisper in a hushed voice, your eyes stinging with angry tears. the emotions come so quickly. you try to push back, but the decades of suppressing them has set them loose.

you're no longer in control.

"angel," suguru coos, shocked. was he too harsh? he's never seen you like this before, so naked before him. "i didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"no, it's not that. i just didn't know," you sniffle. suguru turns to you completely, his other hand reaching your face as he cradles it softly and looks into your eyes.

"you don't have to keep saying that. i heard you, i understand. it's okay."

"it's not okay. all my life i thought i was being better and i'm just not."

"better than what, beautiful?"

you shut down again, shaking your head and turning away from an authentic confession, an admittance of your anguish. this time, however, suguru doesn't care. you've shown him enough for him to understand that this isn't your doing but a curse placed upon you by someone else, a pattern that is continuing its cycle.

"alright, it's alright," he accepts it and shuts it down the second a tear breaks past your lash and shoots down your cheek. he can see you battle yourself, angry at your own sensitivity and angry that you've done this to your own mind, to him.

he ducks in to kiss your damp cheek, nose dragging over your skin as you hold your breath, trying not to cry.

"you can cry, angel. it's okay. i'm here."

you hate yourself for the muffled sob you let slip, for the shattered exterior, for how long it took for you to get here. you're twenty-six years old, so afraid to cry that you would rather choke yourself, and you hate it. you hate everything about you. you always have.

and yet, it's impossible to when the man you love peppers kisses over your face and assures you that you can be free like this, that you can cry like this and he won't punish you, embarrass you, or deem you ungrateful.

and most of all, he won't stop loving you.

kento nanami: stranger to unconditional!

nanami is a man who believes he was made to spoil you.

truthfully, he does not even consider his actions spoiling, for he was raised to treat the woman he loves like a goddess gracing earth. he doesn't realize how rare his treatment is either, or in fact how rare of a man he is in general.

he's an incredible cook, he cleans the house without having to be asked, he brings home things you mention wanting to try in brief passing, and he asks for absolutely nothing in return. he listens to you when you speak, educates himself on the things that you are passionate about, he gives you massages when you're tense, and carries you up the stairs when you're tired

beyond the things he does for you is the authenticity of his feelings for you and how he believes you deserve to be treated. you've never met a more mentally, financially, and emotionally secure man. he is everything you could have possibly asked for and more, and you're so confused as to how someone like him chose you.

he always says that he is the lucky one, that he would cross oceans to find you over and over again, in this life and the next. he tells you that you are the only woman for him, the person he wants to marry, to start a family with, to end his life with. he looks at you and sees his entire world and it humbles you. his love humbles you as much as it emboldens you.

you should bask in the love he has to offer. you should savor the treatment he gives you, the little and big things he does for you, and is willing to do for you. you should ask no questions, accept his care and the fact that you are loved by him and move on, but something in you simply can't.

nanami is so perfect to you that it makes you feel as though you don't deserve it, as if he is doing too much for you. while being in a relationship with kento has made you the happiest you have ever been, a part of you feels as if you are going to sabotage it. you aren't sure how, but you know that it starts with every favor he does for you.

he cooks nearly every night after work, despite long, exhausting days. he allows you to spend his money on whatever you like as long as it is within a proper budget that still allows him to pay bills on time and get groceries (and with nanami, that was never an issue). he sits and listens to you ramble about nonsense for hours on end as he rubs your feet or strokes your hair, and in between each act of service, you ask yourself if you truly deserve all the good that nanami gives so willingly.

you internally panic, feeling indebted to the endless princess treatment. fears flood your mind about if nanami is truly happy, if he feels as secure and cared for as you do, if you're not doing enough to show him that you care or that you're thankful.

it's not that you don't do things for him. in fact, you do things for him all the time, but in your mind you begin to convince yourself that it is not enough. you have to work to earn this praise, just as anyone has to work for anything in this life. you have to win his love, which in the back of your mind you know he exchanges unconditionally, but you refuse to entertain the thought.

you tell yourself that it is too good to be true, that he will leave if you don't step it up and make him feel just as loved and then some.

nanami, of course, instantly notices when you start to wear yourself thin doing little things for him. you start waking up earlier than him to make him breakfast before work on top of the lunch you already pack for his day. nanami thanks you sincerely when he walks in on the huge spread you've made for him to eat within the span of twenty minutes, but is then quick to tell you that you don't have to do anything like that for him again.

"why not?" you frown.

"because you know i don't really eat a big breakfast during the week, honey. besides, it's too much for you to get up so early to do something like this," he smiles warmly down at you and you deflate. "but it was perfect. thank you for thinking of me. i love you."

he seals his declaration with a soft kiss to your lips that should have dispelled the disappointment gnawing away at the back of your head, but it didn't.

you scrap the breakfast idea, telling yourself that it was stupid and that you know better once he has left the house. you elect to explore other options. better options, you decide. something well suited for the vision of perfection you call your fiancé.

suddenly, you're making desserts, you're setting out his clothes for the work day, you're organizing his side of the closet and his drawers, you're dusting every crevice of the house, you're drawing baths for him every night, you're running to pick up his favorite takeout so he doesn't have to cook, you're dolling yourself up in the most extravagant lingerie you can find, and more, and more, and more.

now, of course, kento says something about you doing things for him when you do it a healthy amount. he is always incredibly grateful, showering you with love to demonstrate so and yet subconsciously informing you that you don't have to do these things for him. you never listened when it was an ordinary amount of spoiling, for you want to show him your appreciation and your love... but after a week of watching you double - then triple the amount of things you are doing for him, things that he deems to be completely unnecessary, he grows concerned. he's mentioned it a couple of times now, but you don't listen. you've drowned yourself in these thoughts of making it up to him, though you don't exactly know what you're making up for anymore.

all you know is that you love your fiancé and you don't want him to leave you. you don't want him to think that you're taking advantage of the things he does for you, that you aren't doing enough for him in return, so you push yourself to forget about your needs and engulf yourself in his. though, you're not fulfilling just his needs anymore. you're tricking yourself into overworking your mind and body and into doing favors nanami has never expected or asked from you before.

the blonde does not know how to approach you about it, for you're in so deep only after a week that you've blocked him out while claiming to take care of him.

he only finds that he is able to catch you early on a saturday morning, when he feels you shuffle next to him. he stirs awake, blinking through blurry vision to see that it is once again still dark outside as you rise.

the brown eyed man furrows his brows, seizing the opportunity to stop you by reaching his arm out behind him and blindly grasping for your wrist. when he successfully finds it, he feels you jolt against the mattress.

with a deep inhale, nanami turns over his shoulder, slipping his bare arm over your torso. he feels that you are sitting upright and is quick to block you from standing. you look down at him with wide eyes, a nervous smile dancing on your lips.

"ken, what are you doing? go back to sleep?" you whisper.

"darlin'," his sleep-coated voice grumbles out. you peer down over his messy blonde tendrils spilling into his face as his eyes open to slivers, the gleam of his iris shining up at you. "come here, come back to sleep," he coaxes.

you almost fold until you recall that you have several jobs to do before nanami gets up. you can't afford to let yourself rest any longer, not if you are going to prove that you are worthy of kento's affection.

"i can't, i gotta get up, love," you say, leaning down to peck the crown of his head. nanami's eyes open a bit more when you mention having to get up, befuddlement clouding his sleepy brain. "i'll see you when you wake up."

"(y/n)," he calls you, keeping his arm around your waist as your hands go to move it.

"hm?"

"it's saturday."

"i know, honey."

"you've had a long week. you're up too early."

"ken, shhh, i'm okay. go to sleep."

your response is enough to make kento shuffle around. he moves to push himself up from the bed to sit upright next to you, his arm still curved around you as he turns on his side to face you. you begin to fret when he rises, worrying that your schedule for him will be thrown off.

he moves in to press a lingering kiss to your temple. "(y/n)," he mumbles against your skin and you shudder. "there's no need for you to be waking up at this hour."

"no, but-"

"go back to sleep with me. we can wake up in a few hours."

you want to. you want to so bad. you want to allow your body to sink back into him and sleep the day away curled into his arms, to wake up in the middle of the day to warm lips moving over your ticklish spine.

but you tell yourself that's lazy, that nanami would not stall in bed knowing that you needed tending to.

"i can't, kento," you say more firmly, though you don't have the strength to push him away from you.

nanami draws back, catching the outline of your precious face in the darkness of your room. "why, my love? what are you so eager to get up and do?"

"nothing, i just," you shrug. "i have this list of things i want to do."

"chores? honey, you've been scrubbing the house down since the beginning of the week. i don't think there's anything left for you to do."

"it's not chores, it's stuff for you," you defend. "i wanted to make breakfast again since you didn't have time to eat it all on monday before work."

"i told you that you don't have to do that."

"but i want to, and i wanted to take the car to the wash and to get it vacuumed. and then i was gonna go to the bakery to get you some of the bread that you love... and then-"

"and then?" he repeats, squinting. "there's more?"

"...yeah. of course there is."

kento shifts, moving to prop his back against the pillows and take your hand in his. "alright. what is this really about?"

you freeze. "huh?"

"you've been burning yourself out all week doing things for me. and you know i appreciate everything you do, you know that, but it's too much. i don't need you to do all of this stuff, (y/n). i never have, and i apologize if i'm offending you in any way by asking you to slow down, but i really want you to sit and relax. if i did something to make you think i needed you to run yourself ragged trying to cater to me, then i will evaluate that myself. was it something i said?"

your brows curl as you look down at your lap where nanami's hand is holding yours. "you didn't like anything i did?"

"no, it's not that," he shifts closer to you. "i'm concerned is all. you've been up at four every morning this week. i've hardly had the chance to sit down at talk to you because you've been so busy doing all these things and going to work."

"i thought you... wanted it all, ken."

"when did i do something to make you feel like that?"

"it's not like that. you didn't do anything wrong."

"then please help me understand?"

you turn to look up at him, chewing on the inside of your lip. "i guess i just thought that you deserved to be spoiled the way you do me. you deserve special treatment."

nanami visibly relaxes, tilting his head lovingly. "honey, you spoil me every day by being my fiancé."

"yeah, you say that, but i just feel like- i don't know, you're always doing things for me and it felt like too much. like you were going out of your way... and i felt bad..."

"you thought you owed me in return?" he asks and you nod solemnly. "(y/n), i would never treat you one way and expect to be given something in return. loving you isn't a job for me, it's who i am. it's what i love to do. i do for you what i believe you deserve."

"and that's what i was trying to do for you!"

"no, my love, you were working to pay off a debt that doesn't exist," he corrects you. "you do things for me all the time. that's enough. you don't need to go out of your way to pile all this extra stuff onto your plate for me. i don't want that from you. i don't expect that from you. i love you and i love taking care of you. please don't think of my love for you as conditional. i'm not going to stop loving you if you don't do a million things for me. i would never."

you swallow hard, embarrassed. "i know..."

"so then please don't do this to yourself again. you're exhausted. and i don't want anything you do for me to be out of obligation, because that is not the reason why i do anything for you."

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to project my insecurities like this."

"there's no need for you to apologize, (y/n), i just want you to truly understand that you are everything to me. i feel your love and appreciation everyday without you having to try to show it."

"and i do love you, ken. i love you so much. i just want to make you happy."

"that should never be a doubt in your mind, sweetheart," he smiles, kissing the corner of your mouth sweetly. "i love you. we can talk about this more in a bit. come lay back down with me."

you find that there is no fight left in you as you nod and press your lips back to his. you let him drag you back down with him gently, laying your head against his chest as his hand smooths up and down your back, the other pulling your leg up over his torso.

you drift back into much-needed sleep with the reinstilled assurance that you do not need to work for a love you are deserving of and already possess.

choso kamo: can't take a compliment!

"you're so pretty."

"oh, no," you rush out a hasty laugh. "it's just because of the makeup i wore today."

choso frowns, perplexed by your response as he stares at you from across the booth you've settled into. you turn your head away the moment the compliment hits your ears, looking down with a bashful smile as you toy with your straw, swirling it restlessly around the contents of your milkshake.

he does not understand. you told him that you liked him when he first asked you out, that you were more than excited to go on a date with him. he does not think you're having a bad time, for the two of you have been chatting nonstop from the moment he picked you up to the moment you made it to the ice cream shop.

the brunette looks over your face and discerns that you are not annoyed or disgusted with him for saying such a thing. sure, he understands that he has never complimented you before due to the fact that you always make him so nervous. hell, his face was cherry red and his words were damn near unintelligible when he worked up the courage to even make a move. the only reason why he let himself blurt it out just now is because he couldn't hold it in. his heart had been hammering the entire day as he studied you, your facial expressions, your features, your cute outfit, your gorgeous hair.

and he knows it's not just the "makeup," as you said. he's seen you every day for months, now. he's seen you flustered and sweaty from training, barefaced and focused. he's seen you bloodied and bruised, limping to shoko after rough missions. and he's seen you dressed in your sorcerer uniform, professional yet fierce, and always so breathtakingly beautiful.

he knows you. he has seen you. his opinions about your beauty have never changed in accordance with what you're wearing or whether you put on makeup or not, so why would you say something like that? why would you think that he only deems you pretty when you're dolled up?

he exhales something that resembles a tense laugh, the corners of his lips tugging into a hesitant, awkward smile. he doesn't know what to say. how should he respond?

"what do you mean?" he asks. "what does makeup have to do with it?"

you pause, caught off guard by his blunt question. you aren't sure what to do, for no one has ever said something like this to you before. you find yourself in a completely unique situation.

admittedly, you did not mean to evade his compliment in such a way. the words were leaving you before you could think to say thank you, for you have never thought there to be any truth in comments about your beauty.

for as long as you can remember, being complimented by someone was always one of your worst fears. you know it's because you don't believe yourself to be beautiful, that you've spent too many childhood years bouncing around different environments, different schools, different people to find a solidified foundation of who you are, of what your identity is.

you've always looked around at other people and seen the confidence that you lack. you look around, and there's always someone different looking back at you, displaying something you feel that you should have but do not. boys were cruel, girls were exclusive, and you were an only child returning home to stare at your reflection in the mirror for hours on end, nitpicking every part, hating every scar, every pimple, each brow, every lash. you hate the image of you because you see something that you have not grown comfortable with, something you have convinced yourself is not the reflection of what society wants to see in women.

you have spent your life placing other people's lives upon a pedestal, and you neglect your own. you neglect nurturing yourself, treating yourself with kindness because you were raised to care for others. to see others. to love others. to want to be others.

so when you look at yourself, you don't see beauty. you see everything you are not, everything you can't be.

you have had crushes before, of course, but choso is the first to feel so real to you. he is kind, curious, caring, and honest. you admire him as a person as much as you admire his physicality. you look at choso and you find yourself in awe that he has taken interest in you. you try not to question it at first, to enjoy the gift that is his presence and conversation and smile, but the second that compliment leaves his mouth, you feel your stomach turning.

you picture yourself through his eyes and see the mirror that you stare into. from the horrible things you feel when staring into it, you deduce that choso can't possibly think you're pretty. you must have done your makeup very well today, you tell yourself. for if looking at yourself makes you resent your own reflection, then there is no way anyone else can look at you any differently. especially not choso.

but still, his reply unnerves you. it picks away at your brain and leaves you speechless. what can he possibly mean? what is he trying to tell you? makeup has everything to do with what he is seeing if he truly thinks that you are decent to look at.

you worry that he is messing with you or playing some kind of trick, that he is trying to get your hopes up only to completely shatter them when he reveals how he truly sees you.

but the longer you ponder the notion, the more you remember the kind of person he is. you can see it in his face, the genuineness, the innocent confusion. he meant what he said to you, and for some reason, that is a harder pill to swallow than believing you're unattractive.

"um, well i mean- makeup always makes everyone look pretty," you try to say, but choso only grows more perplexed.

"but i wasn't talking about your makeup. i was talking about you."

your eyes go wide and choso immediately thinks he has said the wrong thing.

"not that- not that i don't think your makeup is pretty. it is! you're very talented. i was just saying... what i mean is that i've always thought that you are very beautiful."

you feel your cheeks flush and your stomach swarm with butterflies as well as dread. he can't mean it, you think. he can't be serious.

the pale skinned man's skin flushes as well. "sorry if that's too much."

"no, it's not-" you are quick to say, looking up from your milkshake. you tense your shoulders, pursing your lips into a tight smile. "you're really sweet but you don't have to say those things."

"...why not? did i make you uncomfortable?"

"no, i just- i mean... i'm just not use to it, is all."

you look down again and choso furrows his brows. "really?"

you nod mutely, leaning over to take a large gulp of your milkshake from your straw.

"i find that really hard to believe."

you sputter, almost choking before lifting your hand to shield your mouth as you lean back, swallowing. "w-why?" you quirk your brow up at him, uneased.

his cheeks are still swirling with color as he answers as though it is the most obvious observation in the world. "because it's so hard for me to talk to you sometimes 'cause you're so pretty."

you glare at him incredulously, face on fire. "why are you saying this stuff?"

"because it's true? i'm sorry, (y/n), i'm really confused. you're sure i'm not offending you?"

"no- i mean yes- i," you stumble, burying your face in your hands. "i just don't really know... how to react."

after a moment further of watching you shield yourself away behind your own hands, choso leans forward, pressing himself against the table. "you don't believe me?"

you sigh, peering up past your hands to meet his gentle gaze. "i dunno," you murmur, letting your hands slowly fall back into your lap. your eyes flicker between choso's face and the table, unable to maintain contact. "i'm just not good with compliments."

"oh," the brunette says. "because... you've never gotten them?"

"not necessarily..."

"then you just don't believe them?" he asks again and you shrug.

"it's hard for me to sometimes," you admit. "sorry, this isn't really a first date conversation, is it? i didn't mean to dodge your compliment. i should've just thanked you and moved on."

"no, but... i want to know more about you. i want to understand this so i know for the future."

you perk up bashfully. "the future?"

choso pokes his lips to the side and brings his shoulders to his ears, flustering himself once more. "y-yeah... i really like you and i want to... keep spending time with you."

you feel an ache in your cheeks as you fight of a shy smile, continuing to avert his gaze. "i really like you too."

"good," he nods, dimples poking into his cheeks. "so can i ask again about the compliments? should i be more careful? i do want you to know what i think of you, but if you don't like it then i'll stop. i can show you in other ways."

"you don't need to worry about that. it's all me, not you," you tell him, surprisingly comfortable sharing so. "i've just always been weird about it. i don't know why."

"is there anything i can do to help with that? i think someone like you deserves to hear good things."

"choso," you chuckle as a nervous yet giddy smile takes over you. you're quick to duck your head in an attempt to hide it.

"i mean it. i think you're nice, and smart, and you're really dedicated to what you do, and you're patient. you always answer my questions even if they seem stupid," he rambles, craning his head forward while you shake your head, smiling. choso's heart jumps, for he can not fathom how the most stunning woman he has ever seen can shy away from praise in such away. "and you've got the prettiest smile-"

"okay!" you stop him, turning to look around to make sure that no one is listening. you lean your elbow on the table and cover your mouth with your hand. "okay, t-that's enough," you wave him off.

"it's all true though," he says sternly. "i mean everything i say."

"i get it," you giggle. "you can- you can stop now. please stop."

and he does stop, only because you asked him to. even so, he can't help but continue to be in awe of you and the person you are. he's grateful to spend time with you, to have his feelings for you returned, to get to buy you a milkshake and talk with you for hours.

he's enamored with you, but the thought of you not knowing your own worth, your own impact on him and everyone around you, hurts him.

and he wants to work to show you how beautiful you are inside and out as the two of you grow closer.

when your date concludes and you are called back onto the campus, the two of you are sad to part ways. you hug each other tightly, choso pulling away to grasp the back of your hand and lift it to his lips to kiss softly. he asks to see you again tomorrow, and you agree.

you walk away feeling as though you're floating, your cheeks still stinging when you feel your phone buzz. you're quick to pull it out from your pocket and open it to see a message from choso. you unlock your phone to read it, only to find a candid picture of you staring out of the window to your left in the booth the two of you had been sitting in. you can tell that you're in the middle of speaking, as your mouth is opened into a bright smile and your eyes are following something that distracted you. your eyes are lit with joy and your hand daintily clasps around the bottom of your milkshake glass. the sun is peering in through the window to illuminate your skin.

you're hesitant to look at yourself. the imagine surprises you, but what stuns you even more is the message choso attached to it:

cho :)

prettiest girl <3

toji fushiguro: doubting love!

in many ways, you would say that you hate toji.

you hate the way he talks, how crude he is. how he has the mouth of a sailor when discussing the most mundane things. you hate his snarkiness that slips into his tone whenever he feels an argument brewing, the way he is always so quick to mock you when you tell him about something he has done that has upset you because he fails to take most things seriously. you hate the way he rings you up like you're a hooker on his line that he can summon whenever he thinks its convenient. you hate how he keeps you around after, too, questioning where the hell you think you're going as you hurry to put your clothes back on and get out. you hate how frequently he has begun asking to see you, how working as assassins separately for shiu turned into a one-night stand, which turned into a regular tuesday, then into a weekend, and hell, almost a 24/7 affair.

you hate toji's stupid ruggedly handsome face, his comically massive build, his entrancing green hues, that damn scar across his lip that you feel dragging against your own mouth when you're trapped beneath his frame. you hate his hair, his clothes, his very personality.

and above all, you hate the way you love him. you hate the fact that you don't hate these things at all, but that you are addicted to them. to him, all of him, and yet you are smart enough to know that he is the last man on earth willing to settle down with another woman.

nevertheless, you still let yourself bicker with him. you still let him drag you out to drinks after work and then into his bed barely forty-five minutes later. you let him call you over time and time again, and you hate yourself for it so much that you would rather resent him instead.

it's unfair, how he can parade you around like it's nothing with no promise of anything more. he strings you along when it's convenient for him, when he's cranky or needy or whiny or bitchy. you've become his emotional support fuck and you hate it. you hate that you cling to these moments because you know that they are all you are going to get from him.

yes, you would consider toji a friend. you work with him, you see him often, and you've held conversations with one another regularly before having sex with each other came into play. he's just always there, so when the two of you breached the boundary of friendship on a lonely, rainy, drunken night, it didn't really matter.

at first.

but as time went on, toji began seeking more from you. offering more, wanting more, and hell, you had to suffer those consequences. you would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy it when he called or texted you to ask for some company, but you hated the fact that this was the farthest the two of you would ever get. that he could use you whenever he wanted, oblivious to the fact that you were falling deeper for him with every moment you spent together.

and why would he care? why would toji stop for a moment to think about how you feel?

he is always so focused on what serves him in the moment that it completely blinds him from the way you will look at him when he's not paying attention.

and god, you hate how he got you. toji fushiguro finally reeled you in and trapped you, cursing you with a love that will never in a million years be requited. a widow, an absent father, a killer, and who you also convince yourself to be a whore.

it's easier to think of him that way.

but despite it all, you love him. you love his grit, you love his strength, his power, his drive to wake up every morning to make money in the most heinous way possible. you love his calloused hands that are two times the size of yours, his stupid grin that he tosses your way the moment he makes eye contact with you, and the filthy words he groans into your ear that grow more pleading with each night you spend together.

you love the silent, still moments when he invites you over to share takeout, and he is wordlessly chewing his food, staring mindlessly at race scores with a free hand rubbing your thigh under the table. you love when he is drifting off to sleep at the end of what felt like an endless night, gazing up at you with a subtle smugness in his heavy eyes. you love when he looks you over after missions to check for injuries when your focus is elsewhere, dropping a pack of bandaids or a bottle of disinfectant in your hand later that night without explanation if he detected anything.

you know that toji has his moments, moments where he is not cocky but thoughtful... and dare you say sweet.

but at the end of the day, toji is toji. he has too much baggage, to many other priorities to love you.

so you tell yourself that he doesn't, and never will. this consequently makes you turn cold to him, distancing yourself little by little until you can wipe him clear from your thoughts, from your heart.

you start ignoring his calls and texts. you start secretly asking shiu to keep your jobs staggered, far apart, scheduled on different days. you don't go out to drink with him, you duck invites to his place, and you move forward with trying your best to pretend he does not exist.

it has only been a couple days since you have instilled these new, isolating rules for your relationship with toji, not that there ever was one to begin with. you haven't been able to bring yourself to block him, for something inside of you tells you that is too harsh, especially since you haven't communicated with him about what you've chosen to do about the two of you.

instead, his notifications are on silent, and you find that once they are your world has fallen eerily silent. there is no loud laughter, no murmured intimate conversation, no heavy moans. just the grating sound of nothing, and your heart plummets further because you know that you are in too deep to forgot him.

one night after work, you decide to treat yourself to a drink. or two. or three. or, hell, who's really counting anymore? you surely aren't. since the bar you chose to visit was only a ten minute walk from your place, the rare option of your choice because you had always gone to the one closest to toji, you stubbornly choose to walk your drunken ass home. thankfully, the streets are rather busy as you stumble about, wobbling on your feet with an angry pout adorning your face.

your mind is buzzing, your heart aching, and all you want to do is pile onto your bed and knock out. you don't know how you made it back to your apartment in one piece, but you hurry to fumble with your keys once you reach your complex.

you trip to an abrupt hault, pushing out your body lip as you scrunch your eyes at your key ring when you feel a hand graze your back from behind.

you practically jump out of your skin, almost falling forward in fear. you clumsily whip yourself around, stepping back with wide eyes to see the very last person you wanted to see standing before you with an agitated look on his face.

you groan exaggeratedly, hunching over. "y're fuckin'kiddng me," you slur, rolling your eyes and turning back around on your heel. "go away. i dun'wanna talk to youu."

"what the fuck are you doin', girl?" toji throws his arms out as you move to step up the stairs to the lobby. "i've been callin' ya nonstop, shiu says you- woah woah, watch it-" he rushes behind you, settling his hand on your lower back to stabilize you before you could take a bad tumble. he looks down at you incredulously, only for you to muster up all your strength to shove at his shoulder.

"don'touch me. fuck," you grumble angrily, grasping the railing to help yourself climb up to the door.

"you're fuckin' shitfaced, doll. i'm gonna have to touch ya if you want to make it to your place alive."

"d'you rem'mber me askin' for help?" your voice goes up a pitch at the end of your question. you toss your head over your shoulder to glare at him as you grasp the door handle. "NO!"

you fling the door open and step inside, keys jingling furiously in your hand.

toji grinds his teeth together. "fuckin' hell," he hisses to himself before following you inside.

"stop followin'me y'creep!" you hastily make your way to the elevator, stamping your index finger into the up button while your whole body sways with the motion.

toji slows to a stroll as he walks up to you, tucking his hands into his pockets and surveying your appearance with lips pressed tightly together and brow cocked in judgment.

"as you can seeee, m'doin'perfctly fine withOUT your help," you say, tilting your chin up at him.

"yeah," he deadpans. "ya sure are, doll."

"and don't call m'that. m'not y'r dolly... little fuckin' plaything. leave'me alooooone."

"what the hell are you babblin' about?"

"y'don't care 'bout me. leave me alone."

"(y/n), why the fuck do you think i'm hanging aroud your place at twelve in the mornin'? you haven't answered the phone and you disappeared from work. i haven't seen you in god damn days. if i didn't care about ya, i wouldn't be tryin' to track you down in the middle of the night," he grimaces irritatedly. "i didn't even know you weren't home 'til i saw your drunk ass stumbling over here alone in the dark. the hell's wrong with you? y'know how dangerous that is?"

"shuddup," you scoff. the elevator door dings, opens, and you shuffle hastily inside. just as you press the button for your floor, toji is moving to step inside with you. you gasp and push at his shoulders. "no! get out, 'don't want you here!"

"yeah, figured that much," he rolls his eyes as he stumbles from your force. you shove at him again hard, sending him staggering back out into the hall. he looks up at you with big eyes.

"(y/n)-!"

you spam click the close door button as you stare him directly in the eye. the door closes shut in his vexed face, your free hand flipping him off.

you don't know why you are surprised when the elevator doors open on your floor with a ding and reveal his burly stance with folded arms blocking your way.

stupid fucking stairs.

you suck your teeth and shove past him. "fuckin'annoying."

"(y/n)."

you ignore him, but he is hot on your tail, crowding you when you get to your door and unlock it.

"(y/n)," he calls again as you trip into your space, kicking your shoes off and flicking the light on. your front door slams behind you, and you whip your head around.

"SHHHH!" you raise your finger to your mouth pointedly, referring to how disruptive the slam of the door may have been to the neighbors.

toji rushes toward you, hand reaching for your shoulder to keep you still and looking at him. your vision is so blurred, your red eyes struggling to picture him. when you finally stop, you make out his handsome face and the fire in his eyes.

perhaps if you were more sober, you would see the pain intermingled with the rage.

"why're youin m'house," you whine, tugging at the shoulder his is holding. "leavemealoneee."

"no. i ain't leaving you alone," the assassin orders firmly. "what's goin' on with ya? you don't like me now? is that it? that why you're bein' a brat and disappearin' on me like this?"

"fuck offfff, don'tdo that," you groan, rolling your head back on your neck.

"do what? what am i doing that you hate so much? lookin' out for you? huh?" he demands, growing more aggravated by the second. "what are ya so mad at me for?"

"THAT! Y'REPRETENDING T'CARE! STOP THAT!" you shout, yanking your arm away and storming off to your living room.

toji stands stunned for a moment, angling his brows with hands grasping the air where you just stood. "pretendin'? pretendin' to care?"

he knows he shouldn't be trying to get answers from you right now, for you're in an inebriated state and arguing with a you drunk was not going to get him anywhere.

still, he was hurt. you ghosted out of nowhere after almost a year of building the foundation with each other that you share now. he thought that meant something to you, but if you're so willing to throw all of that away along with him, then maybe he has been reading the entire situation wrong.

he needs to know.

so he follows you into the space, the space he's visited a hundred times over before. "what is wrong with you? why would you think i'm pretendin' to worry about you?"

"cause'i'm just oneeee thing, toji," you throw up your index finger, eyes rolling. "m'just one thing, and tha'sfineee, y'know, it's- it's fuckin- great, but'yneedto stop wastingmy time if that'sall i'mgonnaever be!"

your words slide into each other, making your drunken speech almost impossible to understand. toji squints, as if doing so to his eyes will help him hear you better. "one thing? is that what your drunk ass said, you think i think y're one thing to me?"

"DUH!" you drop your jaw. you huff, throwing your keys onto the ground to shuffle yourself ungracefully out of your coat. "y'don'tcare about myfeelings. y'don'tcare that- that there'smoree. there's more. you don't care."

"doll, i'm losin' my shit because i fuckin' know that there's more," he counters you, but you shake your head nonsensically, fighting to rip your arm free from your left sleeve. toji sighs, going over to you to help. "here, hold still."

"no," you curl your lips at him, turning to face the other way but toji follows, not letting you out of his sight. "stop! i donneed help-"

"yes you fuckin' do," he snaps, seizing either one of your arms. "relax, crazy. will ya relax for me, huh?"

"don'ttalk like that," you push against him, your coat dangling from your still trapped arm. "stop."

"yeah, i'm not gonna listen to ya right now. you're a mess."

"don'call me that! asshole!" you gape up at him and the sight is so amusing, it allows him to calm down a little and let a snort slip.

"hot mess."

"shudthefuckup."

"here, i got ya. keep your arm straight." he cradles your upper arm to slide the sleeve off until it drops to the floor along with the rest of the coat. you watch it do so with a grumpy expression. "see? wasn't so hard."

"screw you."

"so what's all this bullshit about me not carin' about ya?"

"go'homee."

you step to move around him, but he stands in your path, making you stumble into him. you curse incoherently under you breath and glower up at him.

you, however, are not met with a harsh stare any longer. his eyes have softened, the crease beneath them smoothing out as he looks down at you with his hand still holding your arm.

"why are you so drunk?" toji mumbles.

"why'dyou think. y're a prick."

"you care about me, dollface?"

"die."

"you had me worried," he exhales, his hand raising to graze your chin. your knees almost buckle, his touch sending you into overdrive, emotions hyperactive now that you register that the very reason you drank so much tonight is standing in your apartment.

and toji knows you won't remember half of this. he knows doing this is pointless, but he's missed you. and he sees you now, upset, concerned that he doesn't care and he's relieved. he's relieved that you've been losing your mind over him as much as he has been losing his over yours these past few days.

"tojiii," you curse, though your eyes flutter when his thumb strokes over your chin. "can'tdo this to'me. to'other girls."

"there ain't no other girls."

"liar."

toji exhales, admiring you. "it's just been you, ya idiot."

"stop- stop lying."

"i'm not," he smirks, and it annoys you. you push against him again and he chuckles lowly, tiredly. "let's get you to bed, baby."

you stop him. "are y'sure?"

he lifts a brow. "sure what?"

"you care?"

toji knows he is terrible at expressing his feelings, but he still wonders how you can even ask him that, as he's loved you since the moment he saw you.

he watches you blankly, eyes grazing over the first woman he's fallen in love with since his late wife, wobbling in a drunken stuper before him inspired by the irrational fear of being unloved.

he knows you two will have to revisit this conversation when you're sober, but he sees you and knows what you want and what he wants, what you need and what he needs.

what you feel and what he feels.

"care doesn't begin to describe it, girl."

you stare at him for a long time as your face morphs with almost sad relief. "oh i messed'up," you say quietly. "m'sorry, toj."

"alright, come on," he is quick to shut you down before you can get too emotional. the last thing he needs for you is to break down into tears before him. he knows for a fact that sober you would lose your shit if you did so, and he would suffer the ramifications of your humilition.

he bends down to scoop you up from under your legs. you inhale sharply, arms naturally tightening around his neck as he carries you bridal style to your room. you ramble nonsense under your breath as he sets you down softly onto your bed, which you immediately collapse into.

toji helps to adjust you more comfortably the second your face hits the pillow. "this alright for ya?" he asks, tugging your throw blanket over your shoulders.

you nod, eyes drooping. "yeah."

he hums. "you gonna let me stay til you fall asleep?"

you grunt, closing your eyes. "m'not sayin'yesor no."

the raven haired main chuckles, softly moving pieces of hair from your face. "stubborn ass." he leans down at kisses your forehead. "go to sleep," he mumbles.

"don'tell me whatta'do," is the last thing you say before passing out.

toji stays, sitting on the floor before your bed with his back pressed to the wall. his knees are bent as his forearms dangle over them, and his eyes have not strayed from you for a second since you've fallen asleep.

the assassin inhales and exhales slowly, mulling over the night's events and determining that he needs to work toward showing you how he feels rather than expecting you to know.

ryomen sukuna: too many gifts!

"kuna, i don't need all of this."

the king of curses slowly turns his head to look down at you as though you've declared some kind of war against him. his eyes slim menacingly, brows curling with inquisition. his arms fold across his chest, unamused.

"i dont believe i understand what you just said to me."

you see that he is taking offense to your comment and sigh. on your bed lay a pile of gifts practically forming its own mountain where you would sleep. flowers, chocolates, fragrances, and things you aren't even sure you can name lay in the heap, practically sparkling in all its grandeur.

sukuna is a man of physical things. sex and gift-giving. he has more riches than he knows what to do with tucked away in his temple, and while he has spent many a millenia basking in his glory, he much rather prefers to spend offerings on you now that you are nagging away at his life.

and of course he would never admit it, but he enjoys it. he anticipates the moments in which he gets to shower you with unnecessary treasures, adorning you in expensive clothes and jewelry, and gifting you things that he knows will bring a smile to your face. sukuna is quiet in his expression of love when he is not fucking you into a different dimension. quiet yet unbearably over-the-top.

sukuna is a king, and by association he considers you to be his queen. you are his woman, his pride, his passion. what is his is yours and what is not yours yet will soon be. everything you are to him can not possibly be uttered into words, for love is a human emotion and therefore not something that sukuna can admit himself to be capable of. but he looks at you and he knows, so he drowns you with material things, with whatever he knows your silly human brain to like.

and you do like it. you love it all, truly. every gift he has gotten you has at one point made you very happy, but it is too much. you're not a material person, you don't need all of these things. you don't need him to spend his fortune on you just for the sake of it.

it's become too much for you. too overwhelming.

"i'm saying i don't need all of this," you repeat yourself slowly, lifting your hand to his bicep. "seriously, you've given me enough. this is too much."

"too much?" he tchs. "must you always find something to complain about? never in my time spent living on this earth have i heard someone react in such a way to gifts."

"would you calm down? i'm just saying that you don't always have to buy stuff for me. it's not a big deal," you say.

"you hate everything i have brought."

"what? no! i didn't say- i don't hate things you buy me."

"clearly you do, or else we would not be having this ridiculous conversation."

"for the love of god, i don't hate them!"

"then what is truly the issue?"

"there's no issue. it's what i just said! are you even listening to me?"

"i am listening. that is why i am telling you that you are not making any sense."

"urghh!" you groan out, turning and waving your arm up to him. "whatever. it's all good. it's fine. thank you."

the salmon haired curse immediately detects the shift in your tone and mannerisms and refuses to allow you to walk away in such a fit. "where do you think you are going?"

"just out of the room."

"w are not done speaking."

"we must be, or else you would have actually hear the things i tried to tell you."

"enough," he orders firmly, eying you as you move to the bed. your shoulders slump and you turn back around to face him. "what is this, why are you suddenly unhappy? i have just brought you gifts. you do not normally react this way. i would have expected you to be more grateful."

"i really fucking hate when you do that."

"(y/n), do not start with me."

"you don't start with me!"

"stop this. now," he asserts, taking slow steps toward you. you huff, turning to look away with your hands planted on your hips.

the crimson eyed demon approaches you, eyes glued to you. "look at me."

"are you incapable of not being bossy?"

"you're testing my patience."

you snap your head up to look at him. "and you're testing mine." sukuna blinks, his lips curly slowly. "oh, and you're gonna start laughing again, great. every time i'm upset."

"what is troubling you, peach?" he asks you. "use your words instead of getting an attitude."

"for starters, i'd like it if you stopped fucking treating me like a joke?"

"i do no such thing."

"you're laughing. you always laugh when i'm upset."

"because you are so quick to dramatics. it is amusing."

"my feelings aren't for your amusement."

"your reactions, not your feelings."

"what the fuck ever."

"why are you angry."

"i wouldn't be getting angry if you weren't being such an ass."

"i elect to disagree."

you know he's teasing you now, and you know that this entire thing may be so stupid, but you feel so strongly about him listening to you. about understanding why you don't want his affection in a material way.

"speak."

"i was speaking before and you-"

"speak."

you exhale. "these gifts are too much for me."

"i heard that the first time. what i am failing to understand is your reasoning behind it."

"...it's not that i'm not grateful for it. i really am, kuna, but sometimes i just get overwhlemed. it's more stuff than i know what to do with, and i don't think you should have to go out of your way to do all of this for me."

"i do not do anything that i do not desire to do."

"i get that, but... i don't know. it's not gonna be something you'll understand. i just... want you to focus more on just existing with me and not on what to buy me sometimes."

"i get you things to show how focused i am on you."

"not one me. on existing with me. just being."

"i do exist with you. every day i am with you."

"no, not if you're too obsessed with getting me stuff."

"now you are the one not listening."

your brows pinch together as sukuna steps in until you are centimeters away from one another. you watch each other wordlessly before he turns his head to gesture to the things he has gotten you. "i connect with you here, then make purchases. the latter does not interfere with the former. this is a treat for me as much as it is for you."

"...how?"

"you are pathetic," he grumbles. "this is not my burden. i enjoy getting things for you, how much clearer must i be? i am not trying to purchase your affections. i already have them."

"...i don't think that-"

"but that is what you're assuming. that this is superficial to me. it is not. it is real."

you understand what he is saying even though he does not directly say it. this manifestation of his love is real. his love for you is real.

"...then..."

"if you would like for me to stop, then i will stop. i will only do so, however, if it is for good reason and not because you are doubting my word or because you've determined yourself unworthy of my pride."

he sounds almost as though he is intimidating you, as if he will punish you for thinking lowly of yourself.

"do you understand?" he asks and you nod mutely.

"yeah."

"then do you wish me to stop? is it no longer making you happy?"

you look down. "...no, you- you don't have to stop," you mumble. "but you could stand to reel it in a bit. i don't need piles of gifts every week, and i don't need this much stuff."

"it's the fragrances you've been looking at. and those damned chocolates you said you couldn't find."

"i know, and i love that. but i only need one of each. not fifty of each. other people may want some of this stuff too."

"i do not care about other human desires."

"sukuna, you're missing the point.

"fine. fine, i will deliver accordingly in the future and let other grubby human hands take things that could be yours."

you raise a brow. "will you?"

"you doubt your king once again?"

you smile mischievously. "i don't know, you have a habit of doing what you want and not listening to me."

"i do not answer to you."

"but you just did," you grin.

sukuna grunts, giving you a harsh glare. you chuckle lightly, leaning onto your tiptoes to stretch out your arms around the giant. sukuna indifferently opens his arms to welcome you in, presenting as though he is irritated with you.

"thank you for the gifts. really, i mean it. i appreciate it all," you say sweetly. "i love you."

sukuna only rolles his eyes. "you're a needy pain. your little human brain makes no sense to me."

"but you still love me anyway," you beam.

the king of curses peers down at you past his nose, a calmness catching his intimidating exterior. "i do not," he answers, but his expression and the way he holds you tells you otherwise.

[chosolar]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

THIS IS A REPOST

part 1

mdni please! there are sexual themes.

flirty!satoru did his best to respect your wishes but he was losing his mind. with each day passing where he didn't hear from you, his overthinking got worse. what happened for you to distance yourself from him seemingly out of nowhere?

flirty!satoru refused to go out of his penthouse unless it was severely urgent. he would get his groceries delivered or ask either suguru or shoko to buy it for it. The two tried their best to get him to at least walk around his complex but satoru would drag his body weight, making it difficult to even get him up. it got to a point where shoko threatened him that she was going to tell you how disgusting he was being. (as mean as it was, it sure got the job done)

flirty!satoru had his phone basically glued to his hand. constantly refreshing his feeds and checking everyone's stories to see if you would be there in the background. it was his only solace, seeing you happy even if he did feel like he was there was a boulder on his chest that made him feel suffocated.

flirty!satoru who sat up instantly the millisecond he got your text. it didn't matter that it was 2 in the morning, he was responding to your message ASAP.

hey satoru I hope you're doing well. is it alright if I call you? 2:33 am

he replied with a quick "yes of course", and he didn't care if he sounded desperate, because well, he was. he's been waiting for you to reach out ever since he got that text a few weeks ago.

his heart feels like it's going to burst out of his chest, each heartbeat thumps harder than the previous. he watches as his phone lights up with your contact photo and name, the ringtone blasting. within the second ring, he picks up, greeting you with a shaky voice.

"hi satoru," he hears your nervousness through the phone. your voice is nasally and he can make out the soft sniffling, but he stays quiet. "how have you been?"

satoru contemplated on what to say. should he be honest, or should he lie and say that he was doing well without you?

"better now that I can hear your voice." his heart rate sped up as he hears you soft laugh, "how about you?"

you sigh before you answer. "I'm in a dilemma to be honest."

"wanna tell me what it's about?" he urges, hoping he'll get the answer he's been looking for. satoru puts you on speaker and lets his phone drop onto his bed, his full undivided attention on you.

"well it's about you... kinda," you drift off before you continue. "the night before I sent you that text, I was working and someone asked me out."

satoru pleads in silence that this was not going where he thinks it's going. with this anxious feeling creeping up on him again, he doesn't say anything.

his uncommon reticence worries you but you carried on with the story.

"I didn't go out with him if that's what you're thinking of. I like you too much to do that. it just had me thinking because we spent months being more than friends, but am I the only one who feels that way?"

"no of course not!" satoru retorts, "I promise that it's not one-sided. why do you feel this way?"

it took you a few minutes to gather your thoughts, but satoru doesn't rush you. he hears a shaky exhale before you speak up, "I've noticed that you're flirty with everyone. you're not shy with touching other people and it just makes me feel like maybe it's wrong of me to feel special when I'm not the only one you've done these things with..."

flirty!satoru doesn't invalidate your feelings. he acknowledges each and every reason why you feel the way you do. satoru takes his time explaining that yes, he may be flirty and he's quite touchy, but it's different when it comes to you. the things he's done with you, he's never done with anyone else despite him having exes. although it's almost been a year since he's met you, the butterflies have never gone away and that each day his feelings grow.

flirty!satoru continues listing all the reasons why he loves likes you. he assures you that he may look like a fuckboy, he's far from it. he reminisces the time he had suguru psych him up to get your number because he's never had to ask for anyone's number (humble brag from him). he exhales a sigh of relief that the story earned a giggle from you.

flirty!satoru debates on telling you, but decided on keeping his plans of asking you out a secret. he wanted to prove to you that you're it for him and that there's no one else but you. satoru's big on actions speaking a lot more than words, so before he asks you out, he wants you to feel secure.

flirty!satoru posts you on his story constantly!!! whether you're out on a grocery run or a mini road trip for the long weekend, you can always count on satoru posting a soft launch story that has you in it. you don't know it, but satoru also has a secret instagram account, and the only thing he posts on it are pictures of you with the dates on it and a small paragraph of what you guys did that day. he likes to think it's modern-day scrapbooking.

flirty!satoru is obsessed with calling you nicknames, and as much as he loves saying your name - he will never not love calling you sweet nicknames like pretty girl, honey, or baby. satoru's fond of how your cheeks turn red and how you try to cover your face when he calls you any nicknames. it gives him cuteness aggression so bad, he ends up pinching your cheeks!

flirty!satoru can see how your eyes drift to look at his lips when you're talking to him face to face. you think you're so slick with it but satoru's quicker. whenever you do that little triangle trick you saw on tiktok, he leans in so he catches you by surprise. he observes with gleaming eyes as you back up to give yourself distance from him, but he just wraps his arms around you, pulling you towards him as he says, "hmm what was that baby?"

flirty!satoru has to hold himself back whenever he sees a customer come up to you and try to flirt with you. first and foremost, flirting is his thing! and second, he gets so jealous that sometimes he can't contain himself and ends up intervening. he'd make some stupid excuse to get you to leave like "hey I think someone clogged the toilet, can you check it please?" or something like that. you have to clean the stinky toilet but seeing satoru jealous is always a plus.

flirty!satoru is shocked when you made the first move and kissed him one night. it was the fact that you were sober too that surprised him even further. with you on top of him as he's sitting relaxed on the couch, his attention on the tv screen is stolen when you press your lips against his. the kiss, a seemingly innocent peck on the lips, turned into a heated make out session when satoru let go of his inhibitions. his hands roamed all over your body as his lips continue peppering kisses onto your cheeks, your jaw, and even down to your neck. satoru trails his hands from your body to hold your face gently so he can give you a final kiss before hugging you tightly.

flirty!satoru throws out all his ideas of asking you out, and opts for an intimate moment. on a cool wednesday night, he takes you back to his penthouse as per usual. he opens the door and waits to see your surprised face. he boasts that he decorated the place all by himself and even burned himself a few times with the hot glue gun to make the giant heart sign asking for you to be officially his (ngl it sounds like he's proposing but I mean who doesn't wanna marry satoru). obviously you said yes! let's just say that the heart balloons that were hanging and the flower petals scattered all over his living room were everywhere the morning after and cleaning it all up was tedious...... (but at least it was a fun night!)

flirtybf!satoru immediately changes all his profile pictures on every social media he has to pictures with you. his bio? your initials. his stories? all of you. he does not gaf he wants to show you off! the best part is satoru only follows a couple of people — you, suguru, shoko, and a few of his close relatives. satoru wants you to know that he only cares about you and only you. he never wants to and never will make you feel like you're in competition with anyone.

flirtybf!satoru is a no bs type of guy. now that your relationship was out in the open, you've gotten so many dms from other people trying to sabotage your relationship. satoru did not spend almost half a year proving his love to you for some jealous losers to try and break it, so he blocked the people who dmed you from his account and privated it.

flirtybf!satoru loves going on vacations with you, especially if it's a destination you've been telling him about. he'll almost always keep it a secret so that you don't have to worry your pretty little head about anything. costs, booking it off, transportation, he takes care of everything so the only thing you need to do is pack your bags. satoru loves how carefree you are when you're away from everyone else, and it's just the two of you in your own little world.

flirtybf!satoru is insatiable. his sex drive is so incredibly high, you wonder where his stamina comes from since he rarely did any sports. the first time you had sex, he wanted to take it slow because he wanted to savour the time with you. even though you were close when you two were just friends, having sex was a different level of intimacy. satoru wanted to show you that to him, this was not just a fuck that a one night stand will give you, no. it was making love, and he'll spend the whole night — dusk to dawn — just to show you how much he loves each and every part of you.

flirtybf!satoru started working out during his free time. he overheard you telling your friends that you love a man with a sleeper build, and well whatever his love wants, you will get. it doesn't take long until he starts seeing the fruits of his labor. he seldoms wear a shirt when he's home with just you, choosing to just wear a pair of sweatpants that he doesn't bother tying up so you can see the waistband of his calvin klein boxers. even though you two fuck often, he thinks it's so captivating that you still get bashful whenever he's being coy with you.

flirtybf!satoru loves talking about the future with you. he'll often ask you what kind of house you see yourself living in with him, and he'll make sure to get every little detail you're telling him. you've already moved into his penthouse after he begged for days for you to leave your apartment and just live with him. he takes notice of how you decorate and makes a mental note of it. satoru will make sure to say "when we have kids" or "when we're married", because he knows you're his endgame and he just can't wait for the day he's been looking forward to since he fell in love with you.

flirtybf!satoru surprises you with a trip to your dream vacation that you guys didn't get to go to before. the weather was horrendous, so the flight was cancelled but satoru booked another one closer to your birthday. he didn't tell you about it because he had a plan to make your birthday extra special. after you were done packing, he tells you that he'll meet you in the car. before satoru leaves the penthouse and locks the door, he double checks that the engagement ring is packed securely in his bag.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hi everyone! I hope this satisfies everyone's request for a part 2 ◡̈ ngl I had to use some moments with my boyfriend because my mind was blanking out and I am prayinggggg that this one is not a disappointment to you guys! again not proofread <3

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

taglist:

@lvrndkoo @sorenflyinn @realalpacorn @ninani-nanina @msun1c0rn @ourfinalisation @rio-reid-whoreee @staarflowerr @leonesimp @okayiamkassandra @starpachinko @atashiboba @blueemochii @hawkswifie @secrtjncoblog @esperssox @smiling-16 @gojocumslut @apriyada @brethebomb2 @slutoru1207

a few of them did not show up so please let me know if you didn't get a notification ◡̈

[enhaeil]

SOON AS I GET HOME! ☆ 박종성

"soon as I get home, I'll make it up to you. baby, i'll do what i gotta do."

soon as i get home - faith evans.

c/w: suggestive!! yet extremely soft. husband jay...wow i love jay

you had a good man. an amazing man even. the best man a woman could ask for. and you've been neglecting him.

when he tries to hug you, it only lasts for a second before you push him away. when he tries to give you a kiss, you barely reciprocate back. when he tries to initiate sex, you brush him off, telling him you're "too tired" to be touched. it's noticeably put a bit of a strain on your marriage, and you feel guilty.

you decide it's time to ignite the fire in your marriage again. remind jay why he married you in the first place. since he's always busy with work and so are you, you decided you would call off work the next day and spend it planning something special.

you hop out the tub and wrap a towel around you before starting your hair and makeup. you decided to wear it down because you remembered how much jay liked it. for makeup, you go with a natural glam with some red eyeshadow.

—

you slip into the lingerie and dress you bought, buckle up your heels, and check yourself out in the mirror one more time. "yup. i still got it." you say to yourself before you head downstairs.

the time is currently 6:30. jay is already off work and is probably on his way back. you use this time to set the food up and pour up some wine. you also lay out some chocolates and light some scented candles. and of course, you had some old school jams playing in the back. lord, if he didn't put a baby in you tonight, it'd be a pretty close call.

as time gets closer, you decide to hide behind the wall so when he walks in, you can suprise him.

around 7:02, you hear some keys jingle and the door opening.

"baby, i'm home. i got some take-out if you're hungry. baby..?"

you can't help but feel your heart swell at your husbands voice. even through your dry spell, he's so sweet. you take this as an opportunity to step out.

"hi jjongie.."

his mouth opens so wide you're scared a moth might fly out of it.

"do you like it..?" he gave you a look as if you just asked the silliest question on earth.

"baby. like it? 'like it' would be disrespectful. you look amazing, y/n."

you giggle and help him take off his work jacket, giving his shoulders a soft massage, feeling the tenseness from his shift today. his head tips back with a sigh. "did i forget something today, love?" he says, trying to scan his mind for any event that could've happened.

you grab his hand and drag him into the kitchen where all the food is prepared. "you're my husband. and I've been neglecting you. so i wanted to show my appreciation for all you do." you say pulling out a chair for him.

"baby...you don't neglect me. we've both been busy with work." he says still holding on to your hand.

"still. when's the last time we had sex, jay?"

"a few days ago, right?" he says trying to see where you're going with this.

"exactly! remember? when used to go at it like animals? one day out of the week would've scared us a few years ago." you say with a small giggle. "now eat up. i dont want the food to get cold!"

you guys spend some time talking about your week and enjoying the meal you made. it felt so nice to have this moment with your husband. you guys rarely ever got to eat real meals together.

"wow, y/n. you really went all out." he says finishing his last bite.

"there's leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry again." you say getting ready to put the dishes in the sink.

he stands up, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "how could i ever repay you?"

you turn around and give him a look. "jay. you have been the most perfect man since the day i met you. i can't remember the last time i touched a door or a bill since our first date. you've done more than enough." you say pressing a peck on the corner of his mouth.

you dry off your hands before you turn back to him. "now, I have one more surprise for you upstairs. come on~" you say excitedly before dragging him up the stairs.

you finally make it to your bedroom and point his attention towards the bag in the middle of the bed. in it was a new cologne, a new tie and jewelry. as he opens the bag you dash into the bathroom to take off that tight dress and reveal what was underneath.

"baby, you didn't have to get me any of this. i'm so grateful, thank you. god, this is so cool." he says, examining his new items.

you finally step out the bathroom, heels still clicking as you call out his name.

he brings his attention up and his mouth is left open for the second time that night.

has he seen your body in ways you wouldn't even think was possible? yes. but everytime he did it felt like the first time.

you slowly make your way towards him before he reaches out his hands to touch you as if you'd dissappear right in front him.

"wow, i married a goddess. even years later you still make me feel like a teenage boy."

your eyes begin to water at his words and his touches, feeling like it's been an eternity since you've been touched like this. your hands begin to roam his body too, feeling underneath his shirt and caressing his stomach, your fingertips grazing the roughness of his happy trail.

"i love you jay. and i'll do whatever i can to make up for time we might've lost." you say leading him towards the bed so you can straddle him.

"we've grown a lot since we started dating, y/n. it's okay if sometimes we are too busy to do things with eachother. but even if we go months without touching eachother, i promise i'll always love you the same way I did back then."

and with that, he pulls you into a kiss, which leads into a night full of passionate lovemaking.

a/n: im foaming at the mouth.

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's bord, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he thought he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask, "ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans in, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[icupblog]

Where did the party go? Last part!!! part 1 part 2

Bruce didn't notice you weren't staying with them at first, it came to him slowly. The realisation that you, his child was elsewhere, away from your home, away from him. The hallways felt colder, the house emptier. Then when at a family dinner he realised, "where's name?" he was met with "why would I know?" "probably up in their room" "father can we focus on more important matters?" none of them were definitive. Where were you, you were only 17, right?

The heels you were wearing click against the cold marble floor of the office. Even though you were an intern and mostly went on coffee runs it still felt rewarding. "hey name, your back" shouts kitty the secretary "did you get mine" she says with a pout "maybeee, you'll have to say the magic word..." "PLEASE give me my coffee I'll love you forever and ever" "here ya go" she squeals as you place her extremely complicated order in front of her. "and in return" she hands you a file "wait seriously" "yup the boss wants you to look over" you give her your brightest smile before snatching the file out of her hands and running to your makeshift office.

When you finally return to your shared apartment you slump against the door before dramatically flopping onto the floor. "Gwen? did you get ice cream?" "It's in the freezer" your room mate shouts in reply. You sigh contently as you grab the bowl before sagging into the couch. "We're going to a party tomorrow" "who's we?" "me and my room mate name" "I've got wooork" "no you don't, day off tomorrow" "Oh so I'm just meant to follow you around on MY day off?" she thinks for a second "yeah, pretty much"

Dick loved his family, to him it was the thing that kept him anchored. He loved hanging out with Damian, annoying Jason and coddling Tim when he was in his obssessive state. He adored cass and steph as he always wanted sisters. You however, were distant? he can't really remember the last time you two had hung out. Were you avoiding him? Surely he hadn't done anything wrong, right? He barely remembers the last time you had shared a meal together let alone seen each other. He had to make it up to you! he searched his contacts for your number only to find he didn't have it? did you change your number or delete it off his phone or something? Why would you do that? do you really hate this family so much? he had to find you and get the answers he needed then after, you could come back home.

You sigh as you look in a floor length mirror, this dress was far too tight and blue. you preferred to stay away from the colours of your siblings. Too many bad memories, besides why would you want to represent some of the worst people in your life. "are you ready name?" Gwen shouts "yeah" you scurry over to the kitchen of your flat where you see your best friends doing- "pre-drinks!" Gwen shouts shoving a shot glass in your hands "c'mon loosen up!" william says from behind her. God they were monsters, they had far too much alcohol tolerance. They duo quickly shove you into the back of an uber before finally reaching a club they both agreed on.

The bright lights constantly flashed in your eyes. You were meant to be out there wasted, however whenever you were drunk you felt helpless, like you needed someone your family so you just took small sips of whatever the bartender gave you, keeping an eye on your friends. You shiver slightly in the chilly air before turning back around to the bar, hoping to get some more of whatever you were having.

Before you could realise anything was happening a leather jacket gets placed around your shoulders. "sorry saw you looking cold" a man says, you were about to shrug it off before you saw his face. You swear you remembered him from somewhere, you just can't put your finger on it. "so what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" "drinking" you say with a smirk, did you used to date him? work with him? were do you know him from? "well last I checked the Waynes normally drink something a lot more expensive than" he gestured towards your drink "this" "how the fuck do you know me?" "woah, I'm Tim's friend, his well- I don't mean to brag but his best friend." "yeah, well me and Tim aren't really running around in the same circles anymore, please leave" you say shoving his jacket into his chest. Honestly of all the people to see here it just had to be someone who knew your brother, or well not just your brother (can you even call him that?) but them. You speed walk over to where William is talking to his boyfriend rick. "Who's bar guy" "freak from my past" "oooh, spicy" you give William a look before turning your back on, Tim's best friend, ew, even thinking about him gave you the creeps. "well the freak is freakly good looking-" "so what" "he's giving you puppy dog eyes-" he's trying to distract me from the fact that I hate my family and anything to do with them" "He's your BROTHER?" "NO, keep your voice down! brother's best friend" "Well if you hate your brother then maybe getting with hotshot over there will make you feel better" "can you leave it?"

"maybee, just maybeee-" "What?" "you need to get laid" you look at him with disgust, "I don't need a man to make myself feel better thanks." "not what I was trying to say" he puts his hands on your shoulder so your staring directly at him "you deserve to be happy, the more you wallow about your past the more upset you'll become, talk to the cute guy. Have fun. loosen up, those are your orders soldier!"

"Remember" he says as he makes you face the raven haired man " let loose, have more than one drink please!" he then pushes you in the direction of the bar and vanishes into the crowd, dragging Rick with him.

You mutter under your breath as you walk back. Tim's best friend gives you an amused look as you settle into the seat he's standing next to "change your mind?" "I was forced to." "Might as well make it worth your while" he says holding out a drink to you. You stare at his face for a second memorizing the way he's looking at you, like your normal, like he's normal, like he's not using you. You could... maybe get used to him. "what was your name aga-" "Conner, can I call you mine?" you shoot him a deadpanned look. "no-"

Jason knew he had done bad things, especially to his family, to Tim to name, to Bruce and Steph and Alfred and-

but that's beside the point, the point is he is trying, to make up for lost time with Dick and Bruce and trying to seek forgiveness with name and Tim. Like for example the other day he had hung out with Tim, it was awkward at first but he managed. They actually had a really good time together. See, he's changed, he's a better man, and now him and his family are thriving. "where's name?" Bruce never fails to have the deepest voice imaginable. "probably up in their room" he answers. Even though you two had had bad times, like when he slightly kidnapped you. You had forgiven him, when you first saw him in the manor you were so scared, you actually looked hilarious, he tried not to laugh. He wasn't going to do anything to you, just wanted to apologise. And he did!

It took you a while to warm up to him, but eventually you were pining for his attention. Not that he really noticed at the moment. Now that he thinks about it, he can't really remember the last time you had annoyed him about something, like what books he liked or whatever small talk you could come up with. Wait where were you?

You could barely open your eyes, it felt like your eyelids weighed a million pounds, god you were so hungover. maybe you could see if Gwen was awake, surely she would be almost as bad as you, right? You should check o- "hey sleepyhead" you squeal quickly and lift yourself up as a presence makes itself known. "thought you would be asleep the whole day," you look beside you as Conner hands you a glass of water "rough night huh?" he jokes. You stare at him in shock, what the hell? "got you something to eat as well there's a nice pastry shop down the road, and I got Gwen to let me back in after I got us something" still in shellshock you grab the water slowly and take small sips. "um, can I ask you a question Conner?" "thought you were calling me Kon?" "sorry?" "nevermind, shoot"

"did we sleep together?" a silence takes hold of your room Conner stares at the ground for a second before looking at you again.

"yes"

You spit out the water in your mouth, "oh my gosh I'm so sorry I just didn- "Oh not like that, we slept in the same bed" you let out a sigh of relief, "we did make out like a lot though" You immediately look down in shame, this was Tim's friend not your's. You can't let yourself think that this guy should be close to you. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" "Making outs a two way street, you know that right, especially for the type we did, I mea-" "Not just that, your Tim's friend, this was a breach of trust," "thought you didn't like him that much" "i don't but-" "so if you don't like him why do you care what he thinks?" you look up at him as he's sitting on your bed, so out of place in your quaint room.

"well firstly, I have morals" he snickers at you "didn't seem that way to me last night-" you slap him gently on the arm "stop making it seem worse than it was." you look at him for a moment, and in that moment you imagine the possibility of being with him. "my family are complicated people, they- they care about each other. and they don't really care about me as much," Kon looks at you sadly "don't say whatever sappy thing that's in your head. I-I've tried to connect with them, I've tried to be a part of that family but unless they try as well I can't. I know what I am to them and I've made my piece with it. I'm happy here, in Metropolis with my friends, I don't need them anymore but sometimes, I just with I had a family you know." he looks at you for a moment then smiles softly. "I'm sorry about how they treated you," "Nothing for you to be sorry about" you say as you grab his hand. He looks at you, like really looks at you with your 'just got out of bed look' and your soft smile as you cradle your hand in his. He leans in, hoping beyond hope that you'll realise how much he cares about what happened between you two. How he noticed you, even in the manor, through dark hallways you were his guiding light. How when Tim was busy he would peek into your room just to find you sitting there studying, or chatting with a friend, or doing something so mundane he couldn't believe you lived in the same household as the others. You were special and you could be his. If you just leaned in too.

A sudden knock hits the door to the apartment, knocking you and Kon out a daze. You stare at each other for a second before you hear it "I need to see her, sorry" "Who are you?" noisy footsteps reach your door as you stand up to answer whoever visits someone at 8 in the morning. You swing open the door to find- Dick?

"hi" he says sheepishly, as if you'll scream at him for being in your presence, maybe a year ago, maybe a couple of months ago, but now you stare at him silently. "Is something wrong?" "yes and no, you kinda have to have the full story, anywa-" "is someone hurt?" "no-god no, I just came to say hi" you smile, confused at the older brother you've looked up to your whole life stumble over his words " you just did that" "well, by hi I mean like catch up with you. We haven't hung out in forever" "we never hung out in the first place," he looks at you as if you just spoke gibberish "well we can fix that!" he says with a determined look on his face "get changed, we're going!" "now?" "now!" you're laughing now, maybe because your hungover maybe because of how absurd this situation is but nonetheless it gets Dick's attention "What's what" "bro, I'm hungover and got a whole man in my room, the only way we're hanging out is if you calm down to realise that I look like I've been dragged through a hedge, here" you grab a piece of paper and a pen from inside your room being careful not to let Dick look inside, with his newfound attitude you doubt he'll like the fact that Tim's friend is on your bed trying to signal whether or not he should jump out of the window.

You write down your phone number and hand it to him. "I'm free friday, around 2pm" call me if you have to reschedule. "the-there's a man in there?" "no, your hallucinating this is all a dream, go home," You and Gwen succeeded in pushing Dick's catatonic state towards the door. "See you" you say before softly closing the door on his face.

You and Gwen share a look before Kon slowly exits your room. "Is he going to kill me?" "he'll have to go through me first" you say in mock seriousness you turn round to face him, "you got us breakfast?"

Yay it's finally done! Sorry it took so long, I had an english exam, then I overdosed in the hospital. But I'm okay now!!!!!

I'm leaning towards making the reader try and reconcile with the family, as someone who has had mental health problems I just wanna see my pookie happy </3. This might be the last chapter for now, just because I want to look into writing about other things, Still DC though don't worry. I might come back to this series but right now I'm happy with it.