moralisist

[moralisist]

nokia (drake)—

warnings: substance use mentioned

“you look good baby.” connie begins kissing all over your neck and your face once you’re done adding the final touches to your hair. “take a picture wit me, hm?”

“you gon have them men heads turning mama, ion know if i like that.” connie spins you around while looking at your silouhette intently. you didn’t do too much because it was a simple party, but you were wearing a black top that hugged your boobs quite nice and some shorttt jean shorts and black leather sandals to match while your white toes were the accessory.

connie was matching with you with his black shirt and baggy jeans.

“thank you baby. let’s get in the car before we miss all the fun stuff, we’re always running late.”

“we’re always running late ??” connie kisses you on the cheek. “you’re funny baby.” he grabs his car keys and takes ur hand to follow. “don’t be saying some slick shit con!”

you and connie lovedddd partying. before yall dated, yall would always be spotted at a function everytime. it’s how connie was able to make a move on you, and yall haven’t left each others side since!

parties could be an insecurity thing with some couples, but it bonded the two of you, and you both loved it.

once you both arrived, eren and jean welcomed you in with a hug. “alright bra..” connie gave eren and jean the heads up to get off u and to dap him up because they were always the type to linger too long, especially jean.

connie was rolling up some good stuff for him and his homeboys while you, sasha and mikasa were having a blast on the dance floor. once connie was done, you felt a strong grip around your waist. “now con, yk i was dancing with mika and sash.” you give him a playful scold.

he takes the j from his mouth and puts it to your lips. “i missed you, what can i say?” he gives you a kiss on the cheek while you both are dancing to some pnd that was playing.

parties are cool but they’re def not as much fun without having your man be on the same dance floor with you.

[moralisist]

late nights with connie

notes: sum smoking, use of ma and princess, lowk hints of plug connie i can’t help myself 😣

you wake up, feeling unsettled and cold, an indicator that your man wasn’t there. you turn on your side and see the clock striking 3:08. where the hell was he?

u get up from ur bed reluctantly with your blanket wrapped around you and try to search for him because you wasn’t gonna go to bed uneased. you see connie leaning against your balcony, smoking a j.

“con, it’s too damn late for you to be doing this. come to bed.” he turns to look at you and walks towards you. “you wanna take a hit?” you look up at him and roll your eyes and connie takes it as a sign you’re letting up. he takes the j and puts it on your lips waiting for you to inhale. “good shit huh baby?” you exhale, feeling much more relaxed than before.

“connie, i got work in the morning. it’s embarrassing but you know i can’t sleep without you.” you pout, just wanting to be able to get your way.

“i know princess, im coming. had a nightmare and i didn’t wanna toss and turn because i wanted you to get your beauty sleep.” he smiles at u apologetically and gives you a kiss on the lips.

you knew about connie’s nightmares. he never rlly liked to talk about them so often times, you’d both just end the night cuddling and staying so close to one another, it wouldn’t leave connie time to worry about his dreams.

connie runs his hands through his hair and leans towards the handrail, finishing his j. u follow after and stare at him.

“you can go to sleep mama, i can come in a little later. you need your rest.”

you ignore him and give him a long kiss. “let’s stay here. i’m cool w hanging out w you for a little longer.”

you wrap your arms around his waist, letting him have some of the blanket. he chuckles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

late nights w connie were quiet, but comforting.

[moralisist]

hi guys i’m currently on vacay and haven’t posted in soo long, i’m gonna try to post sum soon 😉😉

[moralisist]

I read the one where Nanami spoils his spoiled wife more. Can we please get a version of him spoiling a hyperindependent(pathological atp) wife? She's all "I can do this on my own, you go do your work" and shit like that. But our Kento isn't having it because he lives to take care of us?

nanami can’t stand it when you refuse his help. he believes a husband should always stand right beside his wife when she needs him. he’s willing to drop anything at anytime just for you, all you need to do is ask! but you don’t, so what’s a husband to do?

nanami has you studied by now. whenever you’re cooking dinner, he’ll begin making conversation and then slowly easing into helping you chop vegetables, and setting the table. he knows as soon as he’d try to visibly help you, you’d send him right back to his office against his protests.

he appreciates everything you do for him, don’t get him wrong, but he so badly wants to reciprocate that energy.

you guys have had deep conversations and he knows why you are the way you are. you were raised to depend on yourself and not need others, essentially developing a hyper independence. you always feel so bad when someone has to help you with something but it’s comedic that u got with a man who desperately craves taking care of you and all that you are.

“whyre you picking that box up baby? it’s heavy.” kento catches you in the garage trying to bring in the kitchen plates into your new house and starts to walk towards you.

“i got it ken! don’t come any closer!” you’re struggling to hold the box up but you were determined. how hard could it be to bring it to the kitchen?

“come on honey, just give it to me.” nanami reaches for the box and you jerk it away from him. “i told you i got it!” you borderline whine.

“i’m not asking.” he suddenly deadpans and takes the box from u swiftly and you can’t help but give him an attitude as you watch him bring in the boxes so he can unpack. you know he means well but you knew you had it!

nanami likes to show acts of service and he does it as easy as breathing, only if you let him.

“when’s your doctors appointment? it’s this tuesday right?” you both just finished dinner and nanami takes both of your plates up to the sink to clean them.

“yeah, you wanna come with?” you subtly take the plates and begin hand washing them.

nanami eyes you. “yes my love, that’s why i was asking.” he takes the plates and drys them for you, putting them on the rack to let it air dry some more. actions like these were unspoken but common within the nanami household.

he had to learn to navigate your independence and it’s been a journey. he relates heavily which is what attracted you both to each other, but it was in his blood to take care of you.

he didn’t care how difficult you’d be after he handled things, he just wanted to make sure it was handled. he loves his independent wife but he loves making your life easier even more.

[moralisist]

𐔌 𖹭 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐﹕𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 ˖ ࣪✧

ᡴꪫ. ex husband satoru & protectiveness 𖹭 f. reader ˖ ࣪ꮽ˳

“who the hell do you think you're talking to?”

ex husband!satoru towers from behind you. the higher-up nearly flinches. a thousand revaluations flash before his eyes. maybe he should have thought better before taking up such a tone with you.

you, ex-madam-gojo. you, the only thing that could make the strongest sorcerer of the modern age — weak.

“this is none of your concern, gojo. show some —” satoru's towering form shadows you in seconds as he flips position. now standing in your place with you securely behind.

“I said." lights above flicker. “who. the fuck. do you think you're talking to?”

the old man only gulps. blindfold or not, hell reigned so evidently in satoru's gaze; and it's cold. icy. the higher-up scampers away with pride swollen in his throat. satoru might have just went after him if —

“satoru.”

oh, that voice. not that voice. you devastate him with only a gentle touch to his bicep. his jaw slacks and muscles ease. if only turning around didn't mean the dying, fruitless urge to pull you into his arms. he'll settle for a head tilt over his shoulder. just enough to see your concerned, grateful gaze.

“whooo," he cheerfully whistles. “got a bit heated there. you see that? this is the part where we make out.”

it pains him to joke about such. once upon a time, that would have been apart of the script. but you've long since left the play, and he stands upon the grand stage alone. empty.

still, you grace him a smile. he melts. shatters.

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝

[moralisist]

i need more toji fluff likee

[moralisist]

| obsessive!satoru hates you having a job

Why?

That is his main question. His net worth is in the billions, he has old money, the type passed on through generations of ridiculous wealth. Money has never been an issue, never will be, so imagine his displeasure when you insist on remaining employed.

If you worked at home, Satoru could deal with it, hell he would probably encourage it. He wants you to need him, course he does, but he also doesn’t want you bored. Bored means you’ll search for excitement outside of his arms, that he can’t have.

But actual work? The type you have to leave the house for, smile kindly at others, clear other peoples dirty plates?

He bought you a custom Porsche for your birthday you don’t need to do such things for money.

No matter how hard he pushed on it though, you refused, claiming it was the one thing you could never give up because it was something for yourself.

“C’mon Toru, you’ve known about this shift all week.” Yeah, it was his least favourite shift. 5pm until 11pm. What sick individual decided they were suitable working hours, especially for you, his pretty little girlfriend.

“Call in sick. Pleaseeeee sweets. Your boyfriend is in desperate need of cuddles after a day of being the strongest.” Smushing his cheek against your stomach, he listed five ways he could burn down your workplace while making it look like an accident in his head.

Coaxing him off you was no easy task and you were almost late from his clingy habits.

Satoru, on the other hand, had decided enough was enough. That pesky job had torn you from his arms one too many times and he wouldn’t stand for it anymore.

Dialling up the number he waited until someone answered, his jaw ticking with every ring. “Hello? Jenna speaking.”

“Hello Jenna, I’m gunna need you to grab your manager real quick.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Just go get him, yeah?” Impatience packed his tone, his control slipping. All he wanted was his beautiful girlfriend in his arms, was that so much to ask?

Apparently so.

“Hello?”

“Hiya, I need you to sack (y/n) immediately.” The man down the line blubbered, unsure how to react to such a preposterous request, never mind the fact you were one of his best members of staff.

To your manager, the notion wasn’t appealing.

“I’m sorry but-”

“Listen, I get it, she is irreplaceable, but that is why I need her at home with me. Does five grand sound good enough to weaken your morals?”

Silence. Very loud silence.

“Not enough huh? How about 10?”

Long story short, the man was not as strong hearted as some may believe, and you were already on your way home. Of course, he was tracking you on your phone, watching with a heaviness in his chest only you could ease.

The minutes dragged, comparable to hours as he watched the door knowing any second you would slink inside.

The jingling of keys stole his breath, his leg bouncing in anticipation.

“Why are you back so soon sweets?” He called over his shoulder, trying his best to appear nonchalant and concerned.

“I was laid off because of staff cutbacks.” Your voice was heavy with emotion and he almost felt bad for putting his beautiful girlfriend through such an upsetting ordeal.

Almost.

“What? How could they have let you go sweets? You were their best member of staff.” That he didn’t have to lie about.

Embracing you in a hug, he kissed the top of your head over and over, comforting you in your moment of need.

Soon you quietened down, your eyes a little puffy but other than that you were OK, something Satoru craved to see. You, healthy and happy, with him.

Nuzzling his nose into your hair, he let out a pathetic little noise of content, rocking you gently to soothe you while simultaneously satisfying his urges.

Satoru had never claimed to be a good man, but he was a man in love, and he would sacrifice the world to have you in his arms, even if that meant stealing the last fraction of your old life.

[moralisist]

when you first started seeing nanami, you didn’t expect it to be like this.

in a good way, of course.

you knew he was a little older, and you loved teasing him about it whenever the opportunity presented itself. sending him memes he pretends not to understand (but always ends up laughing at anyway). he rolls his eyes. you blow him a kiss. the usual.

but what you didn’t expect… was how needy he could be.

not in a loud or obvious way. just quiet, persistent, and surprisingly tender.

some nights, he comes home from work and doesn’t say a word. just wraps his arms around you like he’s trying to remember what peace feels like. he always pulls you in tight, like he’s grounding himself. like if he holds you long enough, everything else might quiet down.

or you’ll be halfway through a movie when he lays his head in your lap without warning. he doesn’t ask, just guides your hand to his hair, a silent little nudge that says: please. you run your fingers through the strands, slow and gentle, and he melts into it. lets out a barely-there sigh. if you stop, even for a second, he’ll make a soft, frustrated huff against your thigh. not quite a complaint, more like a sleepy protest.

you learn quickly that his love language is acts of service.

he holds your purse without hesitation. never self-conscious about it. if your heels start to hurt mid-walk, he slips off his shoes and trades without a word, walking the rest of the way barefoot like it’s nothing. he pulls out chairs. holds doors. always remembers to carry an umbrella when the sky looks even slightly grey.

and he does the chores you hate without needing to be asked. takes out the trash. loads the dishwasher. vacuums while you’re out because he knows you hate the noise.

he never makes a show of it. he’s not doing it to impress you. that’s just how he loves. quietly, consistently, and all the way through.

and over time, you realize something simple and devastatingly sweet:

he doesn’t just want to take care of you.

he needs to.

⋯

[moralisist]

sick and tired (but never of you)

ʚ♡ɞ synopsis how the aot men take care of you when you're sick ʚ♡ɞ wc 663 ʚ♡ɞ feat. e. jaeger, l. ackerman a. arlert, j. kirstein, r. braun, p. galliard

ʚ♡ɞ eren jaeger エレン・イェーガー

tries so hard to take care of you, he really does. but one thing’s for sure - he can’t cook for shit and has absolutely no idea how to take care of another human being (since he rarely gets sick himself)

googles your symptoms, inadvertently stressing you out

“you coughed, like, three times in a row… i think you might have pneumonia”

makes sure you hydrate well, and is literally at your beck and call the whole time, tending to your every need to make sure you get well as soon as possible 

he hates seeing you in pain, after all

ʚ♡ɞ levi ackerman リヴァイ・アッカーマン

honestly? the best possible caretaker you could ask for

first thing he does is put on a mask and disinfect every surface you might have come into contact with. (if he owned a hazmat suit, he would wear it.)

makes you herbal teas or warm broth and gives you your meds regularly on the dot like a strict nurse

he’s not one to express his love for you verbally, but you’ll wake up to your favourite book on the nightstand, or your favourite meal on the dining table as you stumble out of your bedroom in a daze, still wrapped in your warm blanket

"better not complain about how you can't taste anything. would you rather have hypertension?"

ʚ♡ɞ jean kirstein ジャン・キルシュタイン

complains a lot in the beginning (“i told you it was going to be cold out, and you still insisted you didn’t need a jacket! when are you going to learn?”) of course he says this while tucking you in and tenderly brushing your hair out of your face

actually enjoys taking care of you and spoils you rotten - hot, comforting meals, massages, and your favourite movies that he normally refuses to watch, but he’ll make an exception this time

tries to be cool about it but his heart melts when you smile up at him and say thank you in that hoarse but still sweet voice of yours (what a big softie…)

"it's insane how pretty you look even when you're sick"

ʚ♡ɞ armin arlert アルミン・アルレルト

is an absolute administrative machine. he wakes up at the crack of dawn to switch off all your morning alarms, and calls in sick on your behalf.

when you wake up (around noon), he’s sitting by your bedside reading a book, whispering a gentle “good morning” to you

not the best at cooking, but he makes you soup and frankly, the love he put into it is more than enough to make you feel better instantly

takes your temperature when you’re asleep, making sure not to wake you

“right now, you need rest. don’t worry, love, i’ve got everything covered.”

ʚ♡ɞ reiner braun ライナー・ブラウン

this man runs hot all the time, so you know his cuddles are the absolute best. you wake up to a pair of strong arms around you, enveloping you in a comforting warmth

carries you everywhere without question (putting his muscles to good use)

moves all his work to your room, not letting you out of his sight for even a second - that’s how precious you are to him

gives death stares to the neighbours’ kids when they make too much noise playing in the yard

“you’ll get sick too if you stay here like this!”   “don’ care… jus’ wanna be here with you”

ʚ♡ɞ porco galliard ポルコ・ガリアード

panics when you cough too hard, though he tries to hide it. he sits at the foot of your bed scrolling on his phone while glancing at you every 30 seconds

grumbles about you getting germs on him but dutifully stays by your side the whole time anyway

calls pieck for some much-needed advice (like eren, he does not know how to take care of a whole other person)

if you say thank you or show appreciation in any way or form, he gets all flustered immediately 

“yeah, yeah, just don’t die or whatever.”

-> to aot masterlist -> to main masterlist

© acrux-rising

[moralisist]

LOOK WHAT YOU DID FEATURING CONNIE SPRINGER | CHAPTER TWO

"it's all about you, whatever i do. i could be a player but it's not my truth."

SYNOPSIS a spontaneous night out leads to a mix of emotions and new relations.

CHAPTER ONE hiiii chapter two is HERE! i tried to do my best to get my plan as clear and constructed as i could this time. okay so this has a 6k wc, mentions of drinking and smoking, and the word lust.

“so, [♡], do you have somebody?” a tone woven with genuine innocence let the words flow in a way that wouldn’t annoy you, differing heavily from the sensual curiosity of the men who usually asked. stroking your left thumb over the soft wooden material of a makeup brush, a heavy weight rested with the faint beating in your chest, the air growing thicker as you took a hesitant breath. pondering, you mindlessly blended the coral-toned blush into the apple of your client sasha’s rosy cheeks, the soft bristles aligning with the sheer freckles that adorned her face. it wasn’t a difficult question to answer because you had no one special in your life, and that story didn’t require much. the hard part was knowing that had been your answer for three years now, as if cupid had shot you with an anti-love arrow. “i know you’ve got a few people blowing up your line.”

you panted, shyly shrugging as you shook your head. “nah, nobody’s on my line these days.” sasha scoffed as her golden eyes bunched up, looking at you in disbelief. 

“i don’t believe that. you must be tellin’ them all no.” sasha giggled, the natural tint of her cheeks intensifying the color of the blush you had applied. 

you let out a low mutter of amusement as you lightly patted loose powder into her dewy skin, eyeing your work carefully. “something like that… maybe it just isn’t my time.”

in all honesty, it had long been your time. throughout your life, dating was never something you purposely engaged in. most of the time, love found its way to you. the last time you had been in a relationship was three years ago, the last time you truly cared about someone. your relationship was the kind of fairy tale that most people only fantasized about at your age. it was passionate–the kind of relationship that made you feel like a dumb teenager, head over heels, experiencing a summer fling for the first time. every morning, you’d wake up with your cheeks as high as your brows, exhilarated as if the sun shone brighter each day you were with him. picnics in the park with home-cooked meals, joint wash days, spontaneous road trips in the middle of the night, and handpicked flowers at your door every two weeks. there was never a dull moment with him, whether you were coming home to his tattooed arms providing you with a warm embrace, or if he was wiping salty tears from your puffy cheeks after a long day of working. it was sensual, some of the deepest intimacy you had ever experienced in your life, and that wasn’t even including the mind-blowing sex that got your body pressed into the bed anytime you wanted. sometimes, you couldn’t even think about how bittersweet that part of your life was. you were long over him, but, truthfully, some nights you got lonely and thought about why it was over.

the love didn’t stop coming out of the blue or on one random tuesday; he was never that kind of man, so you never woke up and wondered if he would stop loving you. he never cheated. you trusted him enough, so you knew that. and you weren’t tired of each other. it was simply a matter of life taking its course on two people who loved each other, putting things like school, careers, and work in the way of providing time for one another. football had been his passion for most of his life, and the moment he felt like he could be something, once he felt the way the bright overhead lights shone upon him as a kid, he knew he wanted to go pro. he was nothing like the others in his age group, who were mere stars in the making. he was already a star. he knew it, you knew it, the football scouts knew it, and everyone knew it. but with everyone knowing that fact came the more time his talent demanded from him, unfortunately leaving your relationship at the bottom of his list of priorities. you never blamed him for chasing his dreams, as you were doing the same thing, attending the best cosmetology school in the state and getting your license to one day open your own salon. things happened, and people changed. it had been around a year since you’d heard from him, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, aside from when he was on live television, praised for leading his team to another victory. you were proud to see him achieve what he had worked so hard for during your relationship. still, you were hurt that you had to part from the man you hoped to marry and grow old with. breakups hurt.

a thick lump had formed in the back of your throat, shy of your tongue. you swallowed, taking a deep breath, and batting your lashes a few times to rid yourself of the tears that had crept amidst your reminiscing. pushing aside old feelings, you focused intently on sasha as you spewed setting spray onto the canvas of her face. you hadn’t heard a word of what she was blabbing about, doing the best you could to smile and look as if you had an understanding of her words. “mhm.” you mumbled. 

“and these men are getting worse and worse by the generation, i mean, since when is a simple date too much–oh my god,” she gasped, her jaw falling slack mid-sentence as she finally realized you had spun the chair around for her to look in the mirror. while lost in a daydream, ‘listening’ to her endless chatter, you had completed her makeup without even noticing the amount of time that had passed. sasha’s cherry red acrylics hovered over her cheeks as her once fiery expression softened into admiration, the gentle flecks of gold in her eyes sparking under the vanity lights. the glitter in the gloss on her lips danced as her mouth formed an oval shape as she tilted forward, her lips quirked up. “you’re amazing, do you know that?”

giggling, you couldn’t help but grin as you shifted on one foot. “thanks, sash. i’m glad you like it.”

“like it?” she gasped, moving her false lashes up and down in the mirror before turning around dramatically. “i love it. no wonder you’re so high in demand.”

you coyly bit back your smile as you gathered the products you had used on her face, neatly tucking each into its designated slot in your suitcase kit. sasha rummaged through her purse like a mad woman for a few seconds until she pulled out a stout wad of cash neatly bound by a hot pink rubber band. as always, you pretended not to see the payment out of the corner of your eye until she set it on the table next to you, her elated mood stamped on her face. you didn’t bother counting the cash before tucking it in your wallet; sasha always had your money and a more than generous tip, you weren’t worried about that. instead, you examined the two white slips of stock paper tucked under the rubber band. curiously, you adjusted your eyes until you could read the tiny, gold-printed letters on the cards.

ENTRANCE PASS FOR ONE PARTY, COURTESY OF PLUTO RECORDS. 2934 KAZINO AVE, ATLANTA, GEORGIA.

“sash,” you sucked your teeth as your eyes creased but you couldn’t help the low giggle that left your mouth. waving the small pieces of paper, you sighed, “what are these for?”

sasha squeezed her lips into a thin line, cheeks almost bursting with air as she blew into them. “a party?”

“what kind of party?” you pressed.

sasha pretended to be distracted, glancing around the dressing room as she gently tapped the tips of her nails on the plastic of her phone case. “it’s an event downtown, and a few artists are hosting.” she spat out.

“and why are you giving me these tickets, exactly?” crossing your arms, you raised a brow. “you know i don’t exactly fit in at those types of things.”

“i know, you say it whenever i invite you out. i just think you need to allow yourself a little more time to have fun! you need to let loose, drink a white claw or somethin’, meet a guy–or a girl. just think about it,” you hated to admit it, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. it had been two weeks since you went out, when you’d met connie, whose name mocked you at every job you took. ymir and eren, being their usual selves, had bugged you about joining them at whatever function they could find, to which you declined. after your encounter with connie, ymir was in your ear for days, rambling about how you ‘fumbled the bag’ and that the two of you could’ve been ‘drinking with rich people’ by now. you didn’t think you’d hear the end of her reaction to you rejecting connie.

a slight grin curled your lips upwards. you hadn’t seen ymir in about four days, and according to her, the two of you were long overdue for a hangout, even if it meant spending the night watching disney classics in your condo. a night out didn’t sound terrible, the longer you thought about it. you placed a hand on your hip as you rolled your neck. ymir was going to love this. “fine. what time does it start?”

“man, we should’ve gotten more shots from the liquor store. i’m not drinking lemon drops and pink whitney all night.” ymir dragged her words as she poured a second shot of hennessy into the icy blue liquid in her styrofoam cup. you shook your head, laughing as you watched her frantically mix the alcohol with the juice. she was going to be fucked up in a few hours, likely off the concotion she was mixing and the lemon drops she was complaining about. “i’m tryna get white girl wasted.”

“aren't you half white?” her piercing gaze locked onto you, glimmers of annoyance flickering in her eyes as you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

the air coming in through the windows of ymir’s jeep cut at the skin on your cheeks like daggers as you rested your head against the top of the seat, inhaling and exhaling at the refreshing feeling. despite the bass-boosted music that blared from her speakers and her somewhat reckless take on driving, the passenger seat of her car was one of your favorite places to be. ymir had picked you up around ten minutes after the clock read ten, after much relentless arguing over the phone about what to wear until the two of you were satisfied with your outfits. dressing up had always been a struggle for you, making it hard to step out of your comfort zone. thankfully, ymir was there to push you out of it. she had a job in tailoring for models who walked runways, a fact that shocked most people, so she thought of herself as a fashion guru or whatever. to be frank, you thought she just liked bossing you and her girlfriend around, but you’d never tell her that.

you adjusted the white, black lettered low-cut top that exposed some of your cleavage, the glitter from your body oil dazzling under the moonlight. it was ymir’s choice, alongside the laced-up jeans, snug on your thighs, and the open-toed black heels in the back of your closet. you’d taken down the braids in your head around a week ago, opting for straight, black bundles and a middle part. ymir had one up on you when it came to dressing, but accessorizing was your jam, judging from the blacked out watch on your left wrist, hoop earrings, the dainty chain around your neck, and the chrome clutch you brought, which ymir had no choice but to carry when you got tired of holding it.

the ride to the venue, which was a penthouse, was supposed to be a thirty-minute drive, but ymir made it more like twenty minutes, some unknown rapper's music blasting from her speakers and announcing your arrival. if you hadn’t known why you were there, you would’ve naturally assumed the scene was some gathering for celebrities. bentleys, bugattis, ferraris, and porsches parked alongside the designated parking garage that the security had guided ymir to. once the two of you entered the garage and got out of the car, you noticed hundreds of people hustling to reach the penthouse entrance. some had bulky men in black flanking them on both sides. sparkling chains and rolexes passed your wandering eyes in quick flashes as you ran your eyes over the familiar, but not closely known, faces. faces you’d worked with, faces you’d seen on tv, faces you had vinyls of in your place. it wasn’t like the block party, where maybe one or two famous people appeared. this was the real deal.

“come on, we’ve gotta get in there. i think i just saw rubi rose.” ymir smirked as she scrunched up the coils around her face, cockily peering at her reflection through her phone camera. 

"girl, bye, rubi is the last girl here checking for you." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, slapping your clutch against ymir’s chest. “i’m telling historia, by the way.”

the penthouse was simply the epitome of rich. the ceilings were as high as the sky, with dim lights and camera flashes illuminating the bustling setting. the pulsating beats of heavy rap music resonated through the sleek black marble floors as you and ymir stepped out of the penthouse elevator. one dollar bills and confetti practically covered your path as she naturally took the lead, gradually wandering into the deepening sea of bodies with you close behind her. eyes enlarging as you found yourself further into the depths of the crowd, the pungent aroma of sativa and liquor grew more powerful, thick swirls of white smoke floating beyond your height. you couldn’t begin to count the number of voices conversing and singing along to the music around you. there were sections reserved for specific people of importance, some containing a few social media influencers, while others housed those subject to the benefits of nepotism. frankly, you didn’t even know where ymir was taking the two of you. all sasha said was to ‘have fun’ and to ‘get out there’ regardless of her absence. 

a lengthy bar-sized counter was against one of the tall sides of the area, alcohol, blunts, pills, and half-drunk glasses crowding the space. the bar was abuzz with a lively crowd, intoxicated laughter and chatter filling the air as people jostled for drinks. you muttered a few ‘excuse us' as you moved through the bodies, eventually finding yourself and ymir a small area to situate yourselves in. you hopped on a plush bar stool, ymir using a hand to hoist you up as you almost stumbled. she stood close by you, watching for any eyes that lurked. it was the typical front she put up to scare off any men plotting against you. “‘mir, we should’ve stayed home. what the hell are we going to do here?” you shouted over the music.

“i don’t know, but we aren’t going home. i’m not letting you back in the house that easily,” her braces twinkled under the lighting. “i’m about to order us some drinks. you want a margarita or somethin’?”

you cocked your head to the side, shrugging. “strawberry with a lemon sugar rim.”

due to your introverted nature, you were sure you’d be dragging ymir out of the party thirty minutes in, usually not enticed by settings like the one you were in. well, that's what you thought.

you swayed your hips to the music surrounding you, the song now more melodic and sensual to accompany the way your body moved under the now fluorescent colors. little did you know, a multitude of eyes were drawn to you, enchanted by you like moths fluttering around a flickering flame. ymir was beside you, a glass of d'usse threatening to spill with her every movement as she inhaled the rolled-up plant between her fingertips, her presence no longer doing much to intimidate those around you two. you’d seen a couple of clients here and there, most asking about your next availability as ymir kept her composure on the outside, fangirling in her head. a few even flirted with her, boosting her large ego. as much as you couldn’t believe it, you were having fun. not one but two margaritas have coursed through your bloodstream in an hour, providing you with the liquid courage you didn’t know you needed. the sweet shade of your brown skin glistened under the lights as your sobriety taunted you through slightly blurred visions. you looked good-you felt good.

ymir wanted yet another drink, but you didn’t complain because, as much as you exaggerated her actions when she was off that liquor, you knew she could handle her alcohol. you strutted towards the bar with a bit more pep in your step compared to earlier, unknown pairs of eyes watching the way your ass swam in your tight pants. ignoring the murmurs about how sexy you were from shameless partygoers, you patiently waited with ymir at the bar. however, the service wasn’t as quick as it was earlier.

“do you think they’d get us out of here if i jumped over the counter and made my drink?” ymir huffed as her eyebrows twitched in annoyance. “because this is some bullshit, bro.”

you giggled. “hell fuckin’ yeah. these people don’t play that shit.”

it was as if a heavy weight sat on your chest as your breathing became irregular, slowing then speeding up, tightening the muscles in your chest. it was hot. people swarmed the room like bees, and it wasn’t exactly the warmest month of the year, judging by the way heat blasted through the overhead vents. not exactly the best environment to get ‘fucked up’ in. you shifted your stance, feet uncomfortably squealing in the soles of your heels as you looked around for a spot, something colder perhaps.

“hey, ‘mir?” a set of glass-panelled windows caught your eye, and a set of open doors at the top of the staircase in the corner of the room. it wasn’t occupied like the bottom floor. it was practically empty up there. lerfect, you thought. “i’m gonna go outside for a second. you see that balcony upstairs? i’ll be up there.”

ymir squinted suspiciously. “why, are you okay? what’s wrong? i’ll come with you–”

“‘mir, i’m fine, i promise. i just need some air, it’s hot as hell in here. i’ll be quick.” you reassured her, but that look of worry never faded from her freckled face despite your words.

“if you say so. i’ll come up there when i get my drink. you know the drill if anyone bothers you.”

it was as if you commanded the attention of everyone you passed as your heels clicked against the floor while strutting through the crowd. the noise faded as if you were underwater as you reached the top of the steps, a wave of relief washing over you as the chilly breeze bleeding through the doors brushed over you. you exhaled as you stepped onto the concrete leading outside. you assumed the strong smell of weed, heavier than before, was just the original scent of the city. practically everyone was out, and everyone was smoking weed.

outside, you leaned against one of the glass panels, smiling as your chest loosened, bathing in the little moonlight that could reach under the balcony overhead. it was a party, so you knew you wouldn’t be the only person outside looking for a getaway. a man, taller and lean, stood further to your right, raising a blunt to his lips every few seconds as he slouched against the brick wall placed along the walls of the space. it was dark, with only the flashing lights from downstairs peeking over the second floor to provide illumination. still, you could make out a few details, like how the diamonds on his shoes shone, how his well-coordinated outfit complemented his relaxed posture. it may have been the alcohol delaying the speed of your thinking or the secondhand smoke, but you hadn’t noticed how familiar the tattoos that mapped his skin were, red and black dancing over his muscles as they flexed with the softest of movements. he didn’t seem to be paying any mind to his surroundings either, mindlessly gazing off into the night as the live activity of the city reflected off his hazel orbs. 

but it was when he finally turned his head, looking down at his shoes for a few seconds before lifting it for good, now looking at you. it had clicked when you stared at the vibrant burgundy of his overgrown, buzzed hair. at that point, you didn’t care that you were staring, even when his low eyes met your own. your body tightened, the tension from two weeks ago settling into you like an old house as you watched his eyes flicker over you. your face, your body, your outfit, your lips. his mouth twitched, once, twice, before turning upward, iced-out canines putting the stars in the sky to shame.

a thousand nerves ran up and down your back as your lips parted, words failing to fall off your tongue. but there it was, that raspiness laced between curiosity all over again, doing all the talking for you. “is that you, mami?” you swallowed the wad of saliva threatening to drip from your bottom lip as you shakily took a deep breath. it was him. connie fucking springer, again.

“hi, mr. springer.” you shyly spoke, turning your head so he didn't see how you smiled upon hearing the name.

connie freed a cloud of smoke from his nostrils, waving the scent away with his hands as he raised his chin, taking just a few steps closer to where your antsy body rested against the window. “i told you about that shit, girl. what you doin’ here? you came to see me?”

a light scoff blew from your mouth as you moved in your position. “boy, you wish. i needed some air, i’m not one of those fangirls in your section.”

“yeah, i do wish. i thought about yo ass for the rest of the day after we met.” you tried to busy yourself by focusing on the ground, but you could smell him moving towards you, his raw, husky scent oddly masking the weed that was all too powerful to ignore. the tips of his shoes lined up with yours. connie was close. he watched you shift below him, satisfaction soaking over him. “that’s not what i meant, though. what are you doin’ here with all these people? i thought this wasn’t your crowd, princesa. i would’ve found you again if it was.”

“princesa? that’s a new one.” you gazed up at him through faux purity, somewhat intrigued by the curiosity embedded in his tongue. connie was as handsome as you recalled, all confident and stoic in his way as he studied you all over again. liquid courage was a real thing, judging by the way you gradually swiped your tongue over the pink of your lips, lip gloss long gone. you lifted your chin, wanting to seem as tall and indestructible as he did. “i got an invite from a friend. she said I needed to let loose or whatever. this isn’t my scene, but i haven’t been having a terrible time.”

“yeah?” connie’s eyes were magnetized to yours as he reached above your head and drove the joint into the glass, putting the fire out before tucking it behind his ear. a bold smirk laid across his face as he towered over you, a shiver racing down your spine. his earlobes were adorned with an array of piercings, a striking detail you hadn't caught the first time you met him. 

you nodded as you crossed your arms. “yeah.”

“that’s wassup. i like that you tryin’ something new, especially if it means i get to see you again.” rolling your eyes, you shook your head as if his words weren’t meant to pry at the smile on your face. “you look real nice too. i almost forgot how fine you were, ‘s been a minute, eh?”

connie moved like he didn’t know what he looked like, and in the moment, it drove you crazy. he was the walking definition of charming with his inquisitive tone and decorated teeth, his presence alone being a problem of its own. but you knew he knew. he couldn’t help himself. “it’s been two weeks, con. you ain’t miss me that bad.” it was the liquor making you regret rejecting him two weeks ago, right? 

“shit, i gotta know you to miss you but we already had that conversation, ain’t we?” 

“why didn’t you ask eren for my number or even my instagram if i made such a big impression on you?” you were teasing, honestly. you didn’t think your small interaction with connie meant anything, but you were stalling for time, whether you wanted to admit it or not. you might’ve liked talking to him, as brief as the conversations were.

“because,” connie leaned down by your ear, the warmth of his words hitting your neck, melting your hard exterior like fire on ice. “i don’t wanna get it the easy way, i wanna work for that shit. i meant what i said, you a pretty ass fuckin’ girl and i’m tryna know you, but i have to earn it. no es cierto?”

his lips were close enough to hit your neck, positioned just below your sweet spot on your neck if he were to fall, and it had you trembling to say the least. you could hear how his teeth ground together as he stressed his words, voice deepening but still sounding as enticing as it did minutes ago. his accent was thicker than you remembered, the words you knew sounding foreign as they rang in your ear. lips parting, your tongue twitched helplessly inside your mouth as the words in your head failed to form. 

“what? cat got your tongue?

a series of vibrations abruptly drew your gaze to your phone in your hand, grasping your attention like a sudden jolt of electricity. your eyes widened as you gaped at connie before looking at your screen. three anxious coded messages from ymir lit up your screen, dancing in your notification center as an indication that she had managed to break through your do-not-disturb feature. connie didn’t have a care in the world as he looked down at the messages, laughing softly upon reading them. “cinderella’s gotta go?”

“oh, hush, boy. i told her i’d be a couple of minutes. i didn’t think i’d see you, of all people, out here. you were distracting me.” for the first time during your talk with connie, you were smiling with all your teeth, fueling his ego like gasoline to a fire.

“is that so? If i ain’t know any better, i’d think you were enjoying talkin’ to me, mami.” he had backed up a few steps, taking in your appearance from the ‘far’ distance.

“something like that.”

connie bit down on his bottom lip, hands cusping together as he twisted his rings up and down his slender digits, watching as you leaned against the door frame. your fingers grazed the cool glass of the open patio door while one foot rested inside the sleek penthouse, the other lingering on the balcony with him. eyes raking up and down the curves that entailed your figure, he let out a laugh that resembled something of yearning, throwing his head back. “is this goodbye, princesa?”

your gaze darted to the staircase just a few feet away, then back to connie, where you batted your lashes playfully. grasping the door frame, you let your hips sway enticingly as you glided toward him, embodying a sense of newfound confidence as you shook your head. connie arched an eyebrow, his arms crossed tightly as a look of interest spread across his face. you were closer than he was before, the mischievous fog of your intentions radiating from you as you locked your gaze with his. what he didn’t know was that you had tracked every move he had made during your time together, specifically when he moved his phone from his back pocket to the one in the front. a grin nothing short of wicked took over your features as you lazily glided the tips of your acrylics against the metal and jewels embedded in his belt. he never once broke eye contact, but he could feel what you were doing in more places than one. you brushed your thumb over the detailing, your touch masked with innocence, yet lust was all around the two of you. hooking one finger into the depths of his pocket, you pulled out his phone and turned the screen towards him, waving it in his face until the device unlocked, and connie didn’t move an inch, intoxicated by the sheer sight of you.

you opened the phone, not paying attention to how his apps were childishly sprawled across his home screen as you clicked the green phone icon. the bright numbers on the keypad reflected off your eyes as you typed in your phone number, sending yourself a simple exclamation point so he’d later see you in his recent messages. you’d leave it up to him to decide what to save you as.

“i gotta go, okay?” with a playful laugh, you tucked the device back into his pocket, looking up at him with eyes filled with amusement. “bye, connie.”

connie stood frozen for a moment, a wide grin spreading across his face as he watched you effortlessly spin on your heel, gliding away from him with effortless grace. the air crackled with an undeniable tension, thick and electric from the words left unspoken and the lingering glances. he felt a mix of shock and delight wash over him as he took in the sight of you, your demeanor carefree and confident, as if the moment weighed as much as a feather. as you walked away, his heart raced, and a foolish smile settled on his lips, knowing that somehow, something had shifted. “bye, [♡].”

“you’re not giving me enough details, [♡]. what did he say? did he ask you out? hello, i need more information–” ymir’s eyes practically popped out of her head when you informed her about your second meeting with connie, her nails digging into your skin as she held onto you for shock relief in the car. by now, you’d told her the story at least six times, yet she insisted that you had left out a detail or two, asking a question for every bit of the tale you told.

“ymir, i’ve told you everything from what weed it smelled like he was smoking to the tones he said everything in. what more do you need to know?” you yawned, rolling your eyes. the two of you left the event about twenty minutes ago, with ymir arriving at your condo faster than expected. you’d left about twenty minutes after your run-in with connie, who, strangely enough, was nowhere to be found for the rest of the night. you’d even started to wonder if you had imagined seeing him because connie was hard to miss. 

ymir put the car in park in front of the building you lived in, close enough to the door so that she’d be able to watch you get inside. she huffed and looked at you with a raised brow. “everything. you’re gonna be dating connie springer in a minute, i think this shit is important. think about the couple's interviews, oh my god–”

“that’s my sign to get my ass in the house. goodnight, ‘mir.” you opened the door of her jeep, ignoring all her protests but the one reminding you to text her when you were inside.

much to your surprise, you enjoyed your night out. You hadn’t expected to. It may have been cliche, but you were a homebody, unlike most people your age, who lived for a night out. any other time, you would’ve taken a night in watching glee or something over being surrounded by drunk celebrities, but you weren’t a party pooper. as early as three sips into your margarita, you were on the dance floor, dancing around the wealthiest people in the world with no care in the world, even though all that hopping around in four-inch heels cost you the ability to comfortably walk on your feet.

as you stepped through your front door, the enchanting scent of peony enveloped you like a warm, comforting hug, a sense of familiarity you had missed during your night. the heels had been off your feet the second you stepped into the carpeted elevator, allowing you to glide across the hardwood floors from your living room to the plush carpeting of your bedroom. you flung yourself onto your bed with a dramatic sigh, the fabric of your clothes clung uncomfortably as you sank into the soft mattress, closing your eyes for a second. your arms flailed across the soft silk comforter as you nuzzled your head into the mattress, eyelids getting heavier the longer you spent in the position, dozing off like a newborn.

a deep, lingering groan escaped your lips as your phone buzzed insistently against your chest, pulling you reluctantly from your sleep. one jerk, then two, indicating someone had texted you twice. your eyelids fluttered open slowly, a nasty scowl spreading on your lips as you snatched your phone from your bra. rubbing your eyes, not caring too much about messing up your extensions, as you squinted at the blue lights glaring at your retinas. not two, but four messages sat in your notification center.

the first two were from ymir, who cursed you for not telling her you made it inside and told you a passive-aggressive goodnight. sometimes you forgot to tell her you were in the house, it was just one of those nights. you huffed as you worked your thumbs to text her back a swift apology, telling her goodnight too before responding to the other messengers that had woken you from your sleep. an unsaved number sat at the top of your messages from around ten minutes ago, the area code and sender unknown.

(347) xxx-xxx

mami is it really u ?

a bit of your irritation faded as you realized who the message was from, smiling to yourself as you typed a quick response.

i don’t know, mr springer, is it?

it was late, one in the morning to be exact, so you didn’t expect an immediate response. he was likely still out clubbing, anyway. you exited the messages, looking for the last one you’d respond to before heading to bed for the night. you adjusted your eyes as you read the message, not paying too close attention to the sender before clicking the text. a line of inconsistent text messages was displayed across the screen, the last from over a year ago. your heart suddenly began thumping against your chest erratically, as if it were going to burst from your chest and onto your bed. lips parting, you sat up, your eyebrow supporting your body weight as your head nearly hung from your neck, jaw falling lower and lower.

it had been over a year since he last checked on you amidst his frantic football career. he was the last person you expected to hear from that night, as you anticipated a million messages from clients you met while out before receiving a text from him. aside from catching up, you figured there was nothing more to say as time passed. 

a ball of nerves threatened to burst from your throat as your breath hitched, rereading the text he’d sent you over and over again, as if you were convinced you’d imagined it.

ony. 

you looked good tonight, ian think i would see you there

exhaling deeply, your fingers shook, the phone wobbling as you typed.

you saw me?

one, two, three, four, five seconds.

ony.

hy i saw you.

you hard to miss mama

[moralisist]

i got tagged by @stillswoon thank u 🩷🩷

favorite color ~ pink

last song listened to ~ sandcastles by beyonce

currently reading ~ this new nanami ask that i’ll be making into a fic 😛

currently watching ~ forever on netflix and rewatching insecure !

currently craving ~ motivation to finish this school year 😣😣

tagging these cuties: @bratreligion @rosy-hollow

get to know your moots tag game ! ✶ answer the questions, then tag six people

favorite color ꕀ green and brown last song ꕀ tú by maye currently reading ꕀ the luminaries by susan dennard currently watching ꕀ the great british baking show currently craving ꕀ massaman curry. like always. and like. alcohol and a couple cigs HAHA. a break too :P coffee or tea ꕀ always tea! i don't like coffee

ty for the tag @saltcxrcle ! tagging: @lelapine @toadspondofwhimsy @outof-spite @h0neyst4rz @hhoneylemon @our-lady-of-venom

[moralisist]

i love when ppl repost my stuff and rant about how much they love nanami because ME TOOOOOO

[moralisist]

Hhehee gojo sonic boy

[moralisist]

notes: lowk inspired by smoke and annie/ stack and mary from sinners i thought id be able to incorporate it for toji 🙈, mentions sex but no smut, suggestive, angsty sighhh, toji might be ooc

you haven’t seen your estranged husband in 5 years. toji left without as much of a goodbye or a warning that he’d be gone. you both got married in your early twenties and here you are in your late 20’s wondering when you’d ever get over that man.

was it closure you needed? or just being able to see his face again? you tried not to think about it. you used to be so angry at him. you’d throw away your wedding photos (but then dig them out the trash), you broke down screaming and crying, and even put your wedding ring on the side of the bed for a while. none of it was what you needed. you needed him.

but once you’re finally seeing him in the middle of your apartment with his compression shirt and sweatpants and two duffle bags, you don’t know what to think.

“hey doll.” you do all but react calmly. you walk up to him and push him. harder and harder, again and again, borderline punching his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. being able to feel him again, knowing he was still here and real left you with an angry ache in your heart.

“toji… i don’t even know what to say to you right now.” tears start forming but you refuse to let him see as your head is down and against his chest. “we don’t have to say anything.” he tries to hug you but you push him off.

“the fuck you mean we don’t have to say anything?? you leave for 5 years after we get married and you telling me you just want this shit to be normal again? you fuck me one last time and just decide to leave to do god knows what?” the tears are spilling now, hot and angry.

he sighs and puts his heads in his pockets. he notices you have your braids to your lower back now when before, you preferred them short. he sees your skin has cleared up although he already thought it was perfect before. you do look tired, and he hates that he knows it’s because of him. he knows he has to explain.

“let me explain baby. if you still don’t want me here, i’ll leave.” you look at him with your tears rolling down even though you keep wiping them away. you nod your head, allowing him to explain. “i was doing business with this man overseas. he wasn’t the typa guy i thought he was, so i did what i had to.” you look down at the duffle bag he was carrying.

“toji, what the fuck did you do?” toji avoids eye contact with you and puts the duffle bags down. they’re heavy. “we’re set, that’s all you need to worry about. i can take care of us, just like the way we planned, huh baby?” toji tries to step closer but you back up. he doesn’t let up and continues walking towards you. “you look as pretty as when i last left you.” he smirks continuing to walk towards your figure. “i missed you baby. you ain’t miss me?” tojis arms are open, waiting for you to walk through them. you knew you shouldn’t have caved. however the way he’s looking at you, the same way he looked when he saw you walk down the aisle on your wedding day, makes your heart weak. you caved.

you give him a hug and his hugs still have the same warmth to it. it’s still filled with love and wanting even after all these years.

you look up at him, tears staining your cheek, making sure to maintain direct eye contact. “was it worth it?”

“come on doll you know-”

“answer me.” you back up a little, still making eye contact with toji, letting him know you’re listening but he better have a damn good answer.

“you gon make me say it?” you don’t answer.

“all im good for is killing baby. i make good money for it and when we got married, all i wanted to do was provide for you and i realized i couldn’t. money was getting short and nobody needed me for odd jobs. the dude who gave me the job fucked me over, that’s all i’ll say to you. i got us some money and you won’t ever have to worry about finances again. i was never supposed to be there that long. you believe me?” toji put your hand to his chest. “i thought about you everyday. you know that, right?”

for the first time in your life, for as long as you’ve known toji, he was never one to plead. toji was pleading desperately to you. for you.

you sigh. it was all too much, you felt like your knees could buckle and give up on you right there.

“sit down toji. you got a lot of explaining to do.” he smiles at you. “that’s okay baby, i got all the time in the world for you. i’m not going anywhere.”

[moralisist]

eren as your fav college basketball player!

eren had been playing basketball since the sandbox. he loved the thrill of making a 3 pointer when it looked impossible, he loved the celebrations that went with it, and he liked the team bonding especially as captain.

most importantly, he loved having you on the sidelines cheering for him like nobody else was playing, just him. the adrenaline he felt when he made the last winning shot when everyone was counting on him filled him with a sense of pride, borderline filling his ego.

erens pride was no other tbh, it spilled into your relationship but in the best way possible. eren always spoke to you in confidence as well as speaking confidence into you. since the moment he’s seen you at his basketball game sitting with your friends, he knew he had to have you and he knew he was gonna get you.

“y/n right?” eren came up to you after the game and was so lucky your friend was staying extra to talk to her boyfriend. you look at him for a quick second and knew exactly who he was.

“how you figure? you stalking me?” you joke, giving him a slight smile. he liked you already. “yeah, i am actually. you gon come to any more of my games looking like that?” he gives your face and body a quick scan. “a man’s gotta focus.” you smile at his corniness. it was cute. “oh yeah?”

“yeah. am i seeing you at my next game?” he leans into your direction, sensing the vibe you were getting comfortable with him. “sure, only if it’s guaranteed you’ll win.” he smiles. “see you there then.”

every shot he made, he looked over to the crowds just to see you. ever since then yall have been inseparable. he sees you at the stands rooting for him, yelling at the ref even if eren makes some type of foul. you even offer to come with him on his early runs and his teammates talk to you like you’re their manager.

eren loved how much pride you had in him and you weren’t afraid to show it. when you showed up to his national game with a homemade jersey that was tight fitting but super cute with the back of it saying “jaeger”, he wanted to end the game and just go home with you right there.

but don’t get me wrong, eren shows up for you just as much as you do. any club, sport, or hobbies you participated in, he’s there cheering just as loud.

obnoxiously, might i add. he never shows good sportsmanship when it comes to you and has often gotten into fights with the moderators and opposing team because of it. he’s so silly.

eren couldn’t ever imagine not having his favorite cheerleader by his side.

[moralisist]

notes: lowk inspired by smoke and annie/ stack and mary from sinners i thought id be able to incorporate it for toji 🙈, mentions sex but no smut, suggestive, angsty sighhh, toji might be ooc

you haven’t seen your estranged husband in 5 years. toji left without as much of a goodbye or a warning that he’d be gone. you both got married in your early twenties and here you are in your late 20’s wondering when you’d ever get over that man.

was it closure you needed? or just being able to see his face again? you tried not to think about it. you used to be so angry at him. you’d throw away your wedding photos (but then dig them out the trash), you broke down screaming and crying, and even put your wedding ring on the side of the bed for a while. none of it was what you needed. you needed him.

but once you’re finally seeing him in the middle of your apartment with his compression shirt and sweatpants and two duffle bags, you don’t know what to think.

“hey doll.” you do all but react calmly. you walk up to him and push him. harder and harder, again and again, borderline punching his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. being able to feel him again, knowing he was still here and real left you with an angry ache in your heart.

“toji… i don’t even know what to say to you right now.” tears start forming but you refuse to let him see as your head is down and against his chest. “we don’t have to say anything.” he tries to hug you but you push him off.

“the fuck you mean we don’t have to say anything?? you leave for 5 years after we get married and you telling me you just want this shit to be normal again? you fuck me one last time and just decide to leave to do god knows what?” the tears are spilling now, hot and angry.

he sighs and puts his heads in his pockets. he notices you have your braids to your lower back now when before, you preferred them short. he sees your skin has cleared up although he already thought it was perfect before. you do look tired, and he hates that he knows it’s because of him. he knows he has to explain.

“let me explain baby. if you still don’t want me here, i’ll leave.” you look at him with your tears rolling down even though you keep wiping them away. you nod your head, allowing him to explain. “i was doing business with this man overseas. he wasn’t the typa guy i thought he was, so i did what i had to.” you look down at the duffle bag he was carrying.

“toji, what the fuck did you do?” toji avoids eye contact with you and puts the duffle bags down. they’re heavy. “we’re set, that’s all you need to worry about. i can take care of us, just like the way we planned, huh baby?” toji tries to step closer but you back up. he doesn’t let up and continues walking towards you. “you look as pretty as when i last left you.” he smirks continuing to walk towards your figure. “i missed you baby. you ain’t miss me?” tojis arms are open, waiting for you to walk through them. you knew you shouldn’t have caved. however the way he’s looking at you, the same way he looked when he saw you walk down the aisle on your wedding day, makes your heart weak. you caved.

you give him a hug and his hugs still have the same warmth to it. it’s still filled with love and wanting even after all these years.

you look up at him, tears staining your cheek, making sure to maintain direct eye contact. “was it worth it?”

“come on doll you know-”

“answer me.” you back up a little, still making eye contact with toji, letting him know you’re listening but he better have a damn good answer.

“you gon make me say it?” you don’t answer.

“all im good for is killing baby. i make good money for it and when we got married, all i wanted to do was provide for you and i realized i couldn’t. money was getting short and nobody needed me for odd jobs. the dude who gave me the job fucked me over, that’s all i’ll say to you. i got us some money and you won’t ever have to worry about finances again. i was never supposed to be there that long. you believe me?” toji put your hand to his chest. “i thought about you everyday. you know that, right?”

for the first time in your life, for as long as you’ve known toji, he was never one to plead. toji was pleading desperately to you. for you.

you sigh. it was all too much, you felt like your knees could buckle and give up on you right there.

“sit down toji. you got a lot of explaining to do.” he smiles at you. “that’s okay baby, i got all the time in the world for you. i’m not going anywhere.”

[moralisist]

Poor Satoru doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this.

When you're too sleepy and too stressed to play with him, when your eyes are heavy and your voice is sharp, snapping out little “not now”s and “please, Satoru”s that sting far more than you'd ever intend. He knows it’s not about him. He knows. But still.

He stands there awkwardly at the edge of the bed, fingers twitching at his sides, his usual brightness dulled into something quiet and anxious. You’re lying on your stomach, cheek pressed to the pillow, body still and closed off in a way that tells him you’ve hit your limit.

But he still needs to touch you. He has to.

“Is... is two finger touch okay?” he asks, voice unusually soft. Baby blues raking your body.

You don’t answer, not really. Just make a tiny noise, more exhale than anything. But it’s not a no.

So he climbs into bed with a surprising amount of gentleness. No attempts at disturbing your peace. And then he reaches out, dragging just two slender fingers down the curve of your spine. Featherlight. Barely there. Up and down. Up and down. Sometimes he traces your sides, and when you twitch or tense, he’s quick to shush you, soft, pink lips brushing your shoulder.

“I’m not gonna do anything,” he murmurs. “Just touching. Just this.”

Eventually, when you don’t push him away, he lets out a quiet breath and shifts. Lays down beside you - not quite beside, really. More like on you, curling his long frame to fit your back like a blanket. His cheek finds home against your lower back, arms tucked in as he breathes you in.

“I love you,” he whispers into the silence. “Even when you’re crabby. Even when you’re too tired to look at me. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He stays like that, still and soft, waiting. Waiting until you’re ready to turn around. Until your hand reaches back to tangle in his tousled white hair. Until you mumble that you're sorry, or maybe just press your face into his chest without saying a word.

He’ll wait forever, if that’s what it takes.

Because sure, he doesn’t like it when you’re cranky. But loving you means being close even when you can’t meet him halfway. And if this is all you’ll let him have for now - two fingers and a cheek pressed to your back- then he’ll take it, gratefully.

Because that’s still you. And Satoru doesn’t know how to be without you.