#but he maybe doesn't do it to hide the tears

[rottiens]

I found this song again and immediately started imagining the scenario that you mentioned related to this song, which was us breaking up with Gojo in parking lot while the rain is pouring. I just know that man looked gorgeous while you broke up with him or he broke up with you. His lips looked more inviting than ever

https://youtu.be/QzWLK6oKeIo?si=zUc3OP9olodiY2PS

…………………….

[flowercrowngods]

i don't know how to be merely acquaintances when we used to be friends. or i think we used to be. i don't know how to yearn for a simple hello when you've been heaping your affection on me months ago, and i don't know how to talk to you when you won't say anything. when suddenly it's all about me. you know i have nothing to say, you know my brain is void of everything but horribleness and i cannot tell you about my day because i don't even know about my day. i cannot tell you about my day when i know you won't listen, when i know you'll apply your philosophy to my world and don't believe me when i say that everything is terrible. i don't know how to be the person you seem to think i am, or the person you want in your life. i don't know if you want anyone else in your life now that you're in love and sappy, found another recipient for your affections, leaving me empty and wounded and yearning.

you said you missed me. said it many times, while i was gone. now i'm back, have been back, and i wonder how you missed me, why you missed me, when you won't talk to me. i think you mistook missing for worrying. i think you mistook caring for a feeling of obligation. i think you like missing me more than talking to me.

and i think i can't breathe with how much that hurts

[sudokuplayer]

i'm so angry and heartbroken and i think this is all i will ever be

[ozzgin]

Just read your arranged marriage kidnapped by a most post and the humor in the servants always thinking reader is in peril. The same going for monster hubby (He just thinks they're submissive and breedable)

Like none of them realize they are a moster fucker cause they hide it so well. Like just imagining reader be like "oh be gentle with me I'm a dainty maiden" and then giving him the night of his life is hilarious. Or them having dinner and the servants feel bad for them cause monster hubby is eating human meat but their just thinking about other things he can use his tongue on.

Or maybe someone comes to rescue them from the terrible monster finally. But they don't wanna leave and instead fight the knight off. The knight thinks they've been brainwashed or something. Meanwhile the servants think the knight just wasn't good enough to rescue them.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW! [Part 1] | [More Monsters]

The servants are not blind by any means: they can tell, quite plainly, that their monstrous Lord has a soft spot for you. Not only that, but the beast nearly worships you! They've come up with many theories, the latest one involving witchcraft. Surely you must have some sort of magical trickery under your sleeve in order to subdue their Master. There's no other way around it. All previous humans have been devoured, or have died in a pitiful attempt to escape, terrified to the bone upon gazing at his blasphemous Majesty.

You can't blame them. It's probably better for everyone involved if you omit the fact that your source of witchcraft lies in your...genitals. Well, not just that, of course. Your husband had started to lose hope. His appreciation of humans never came to fruition before your arrival. He was expecting you to cower in fear, not throw yourself at him.

He wondered if you wanted something from him in return, but no one could possibly pretend so flawlessly: the way you clung to him unprompted. The way you hungrily took him in, tears welling in your eyes, refusing to let go until you could feel his load avalanching down your throat. The way you'd trap his hips with your legs, despite being weak and feverish, asking that he doesn't stop yet. If that wasn't proof enough, your whines and moans were loud and clear. To think he could have his own little human, one who isn't repulsed by his monstrous form. He would've been content with mere tolerance, yet someone who begged to be fucked by him? He's been delirious ever since.

He loves everything about you, naturally, but he can't deny the shameless addiction he's now developed towards your body. He'd pound you anywhere and anytime if he could. If he needs to leave for official matters, know that the return will burn in the back of his mind.

"An important date, Sir?" one traveling servant will ask, glancing at all the scribbles in the calendar.

"Indeed", he answers solemnly. It's the times when he can finally fuck you dumb.

While the servants worry about their devilish Master being put under leash, for the other fellow humans the opposite seems to be true. You recall your last "rescuing" attempt distinctly. During one of your evening walks, burly, foreign arms swept you off in an instant. Before you knew it, you were holding onto the armored shoulders of an unknown man, as he made his way out of the traditional garden.

"I'll get you out of here", he promised between heaving breaths.

You stared in confusion. What was he saving you from? A good dicking? No matter how much you explained that you do actually like your newly appointed husband, the hero wouldn't budge.

You ended up just walking back home when the man fell asleep.

"That was quite the long walk", your monster partner remarked, polishing his weapons.

"Oh no, I was kidnapped", you state casually. "Got us some fruits on the way back."

Would it have been better to lie about it? On one hand, you do feel terrible for whoever attempted to retrieve you from the claws of the tyrant. Your husband is very possessive, and you know he'll scorch the Earth until that treacherous pest is gutted and fed to the pigs.

On the other hand...he becomes particularly savage after such incidents. You won't be able to sit properly for the next few weeks, but it's worth it.

Tough luck, you tell yourself, lounging in bed with a satisfied smirk and torn apart hole.

[stars-and-clouds]

Astarion Romance Headcanons 🥀

SFW:

Side glances when you're besides him

Full on staring when you're not

Immediately looking away when you catch him

"You know the way he looks at you, don't you, soldier?"

His pinky itching towards yours when you're walking, wanting to hold your hand but unsure because, is it too much? Will you reject him?

His hands scrunching up your shirt tightly whenever you hug. He's always the last to let go.

You hold on longer and longer each time because he doesn't want to let go.

His kisses are tender and needy.

He likes the warmth of your hands.

Thinking of what tones will suit your perfume the best. He'll gift it to you after all this is over.

He'll sew the holes or tears in your clothes over the night and pretend he doesn't know what happened next morning.

When you move to kiss his cheek he will grimace in annoyance but lean in as you do it.

"Be careful around Astarion, (Tav). He's not serious about you.", the others will warn you. And Astarion will worry you'll heed their words more than his so he'll do so much to prove his love to you, not knowing that you already trust him (even if that is an objectively stupid thing to do lmao).

He started sleeping next to you from the moment you had sex but ever since you've entered the shadowlands, he ends up cuddling in the middle of the night. He misses the sun.

He likes kissing the palm of your hand or its back.

Likes to pack your bag before you leave camp.

"No one's ever going to love me like that again."

Ever since you told him that there's more to him than just beauty and sex, that he's hilarious, for instance, he finds ways to make you laugh. He loves it. He's started being a lot more sarcastic and makes more jokes just to hear your laughter. He'll never admit it, of course. Other than maybe when it's only you two.

Doesn't believe he will be able to love again if you let go of him.

"Don't be so nice to me." he says with round, needy and pleading eyes.

Thinking of ways he can show others you're together so others know you're not available.

Hiding his jealousy, terribly.

He will rip the throat out of anyone with malicious intent towards you.

"I will wait the whole of my life for you, Astarion." He doesn't believe it at first, but the longer you go on without sex the safer he feels and the more he wants you.

NSFW:

He sometimes cries silently at night, wishing he could make love to you without it feeling so tainted. He wants it so badly, but his past experience prohibits it. The pain of wanting something and being unable to have it only because of himself is too much. He blames himself too sometimes. Wishing he could give you more.

"I don't mind waiting.", you'd say.

"I do. I can't have you, no matter how much I want you.", he'd say.

When you cuddle him sensing he's upset, he will bury his face in your neck to hide his tears. The smell of you is comforting.

Needing you everytime you're tender with him.

Getting aroused when you hug during a kiss.

Wanting to kiss your skin all over, to make you cry from pleasure as you bury your face in his neck.

Wanting you to hold on to him for dear life as you climax.

When he's finally comfortable enough and takes charge of his own sexuality, he'll be so needy.

Realising that the two nights he had sex with you were nothing compared to how good making love to you feels.

When you give up all control to him, letting him do to you as he wants, the pleasure is almost too much bear. The power he feels is palpable and knowing it is you who trusts him so much will drive him near mad.

He will lose control many times so you have a safe word.

You both think of the stupidest word possible as a safe word. Something that makes you both laugh when it's used.

He likes over stimulating you, making you beg and he'll kiss you to calm you.

"It's okay, you can do it, darling.", he'll say stroking you even further and kissing your tears.

"Does that feel good, my love?"

The more you beg the more he loves it.

He likes playing with your hands, holding them in his, touching your fingers, comparing them to his while you rest on his chest, still warm from him being inside of you.

Resting his head against your chest to hear your heartbeat.

Staring at your face and body intently. Taking in every little reaction you make and replaying them over in his head throughout the day.

Staring at you longingly when you're both with the squad, failing terribly at focusing in battle or conversation.

Getting aroused when you're covered in blood.

Seeing you fighting, in general, turns him on. The smell of your sweat, your rapid heart beat, the way your body moves, all of it now only reminds him of making love to you.

Telling you to say his name whenever he's feeling good and you'll chant it as you cum. He loves how it sounds from your lips.

Resting his forehead against yours as he's close to cumming.

"Look at me.", he'll command you.

He likes when your hands rake his hair, pull his hair, tug it whatever. That slight bit of pain arouses him. Better yet, if you bury your nails into his skin.

He likes to look at you falling asleep. It's such a gentle thing. How can someone so strong otherwise be so soft around him? Why him? Why did someone like you choose someone like him? He can't believe he has you.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50833876/chapters/128419966 I am updating these hcs on my ao3, if anyone is interested!

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader

Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"DAD'S COMING?!"

(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.

She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.

It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.

"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.

"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.

"Alastor, please-"

"He's here!"

"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.

He chuckled.

Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.

A need to make her his.

"Hopefully he doesn't-"

"Pumpkin?"

"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.

"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.

It reminded him of happier times.

Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.

"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Dad, it's my company. I made it."

And he couldn't even remember that she did that?

Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.

"Ouch."

"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"

"I've been busy, pumpkin-"

"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"

Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.

"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."

"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.

Just like her mom.

"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.

And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.

But he let her fight her own battles.

"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"

"Yes!"

He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.

"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"

"Pumpkin, I-"

"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."

But he didn't listen.

He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.

"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.

She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.

"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.

"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."

His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.

_ _ ☆ _ _

(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.

"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.

"Can you get Alasto-?"

A knock sounded at the door.

"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.

Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.

Alone.

The two of them.

Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.

"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.

"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.

"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.

"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.

"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.

"I thought you hated touch."

He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."

"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"

"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."

"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.

Someday, even all of her.

"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.

"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."

Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: omegeverse, omega reader, forced mating, near noncon, threats

♡ GN reader

You tried running away from your mate again. And he decides to teach you a life lesson by taking you to the only place stray omegas earn a living.

He’s not giving you the time to catch your breath—keeping his hand unforgivingly tight around your wrist, pulling you along while you cry at his back—grip so tight you think he might squeeze your hand clean off as he drags you through the funhouse—through horror-filled corridors featuring piles of sweaty bodies belonging to big grunting alphas and smaller whimpering omegas.

“This where you wanna end up?” He yanks you to a stop once you reach the thick of it—holding you harshly against his chest with a mean grip on your face, forcing you to look at the fray. “Another free-use whore?”

You shake your head, but you struggle to make the words known, “N-no–no.” Breath jumping in your throat while new tears keep bubbling in your eyes, streaming heavy down your sore cheeks. 

“Tch–you wanna be a stray that badly. That's fine by me,” he scoffs and shoves you forward where a sticky bed receives you—slipping between busy bodies that immediately notice the arrival of fresh meat. 

“No–please-” you squeak, but no one can hear you. 

Or maybe they do, but your voice doesn't matter. Not here.

Not anywhere…

Greedy hands, much stronger than you, grab at you, ripping your clothes, yanking your hair, doing what they want with you because that’s the only thing omegas like you are worth—to be used until you’re not wanted anymore.

Or, that’s the lesson he’s trying to teach you anyway.

But he pulls you out of the pit before you’re devoured—left shell-shocked and shaking. Cloths torn and hair wild, you can barely stand on your own two feet—looking faint yet wide awake in panic all at the same time—clinging to him with trembling fists.

“Do you understand now?” He cups your face roughly, forcing you to look at him whilst declaring, “The only safe place for an omega is by an alpha’s side.”

Your lip warbles, eyes large and glassy, looking up into his harsh ones while he grits his teeth and continues to bark, “You can either be my mate, or I leave you here for good.”

You sniffle—body still reeling from almost being savaged by a pack of rut-happy mongrels—wanting nothing more than to go back the way you came—preferring to be kept within his gilded cage above being a bone in this awful scrapyard he threatened to abandon you in.

“Which will it be?”

You wring his shirt as tears continue to roll down your sorry cheeks, held tightly in his rough palm.

“Home…” you cry weakly. "I wanna go home."

He sighs and eases his grip, letting you hide your face against his chest, left sobbing from the hard-learned lesson.

He puts his hand on your head, giving it a pet.

“Good.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Illumi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[hairmetal666]

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

[shrimpybbq]

rafe, his fiancée and their family in the 18 month gap between s3 and s4

“What do you think about another baby?”

rafe is ecstatic about the prospect of another kid, and he shows it. he’s constantly spoiling his girl, always doting on her and helping her around the house. he makes sure to hire staff around tannyhill and ensure she doesn’t have to stress, making sure to spend time each night with his family despite the chaos of his day. rafe knows her first pregnancy wasn’t the best (bc of him) and he wants to give her a whole new experience

high school gf was worried about telling him she was pregnant again, knowing how badly it all went the first time. she knew rafe had grown to love his son and his family, but she was still apprehensive about his reaction, knowing he was in a stressful period of life rn. she didn’t have anything to worry about however, seeing straight away how different rafe was with her now. he loved being a father and was so keen to have another baby, especially now everything is his, and he can provide for his family the way he wants

baby no. 2 was a girl, just as rafe wanted. he already has little charlie, who is a carbon copy of himself, but he wants a little girl who looks just like her mother. rafe already loved to stare at his fiancée’s face, but imagining her looking after a mini version of herself - rafe thinks he might die.

as his fiancée and mother of his child, high school gf is living good. rafe is struggling with his father’s death, but mostly, they’re happy - really, really happy. charlie is starting to speak, and he is so excited to have a baby sister

oh you know the jokes are going around the OBX about how rafe just can’t keep it in his pants (but who could blame him when his girl is just so hot)

rafe doing the absolute most to have his fiancée relaxed and resting at all times - he loves to take her out on the boat and let her lay in the warm sun, especially because she gets so clingy when she’s sleepy and calm

rafe who begins to secretly hunt for a new house for the family to move into, wanting a new space just for themselves. tannyhill had too many bad vibes and rafe wants to start fresh

the family are often seen out and about the island with little charlie either toddling in front of his parents, or being swung in between their outstretched arms

charlie becoming known by those on the island as a cheeky little boy, always pulling faces and trying to play with everyone

rafe watching his girl get closer and closer to her due date and growing more and more anxious - he was so coked up the first time that he never really worried, but now he is always hovering and checking in on their baby

rafe is there for this delivery!! he's 100% holding his fiancée’s hand and brushing her sweaty hair out of her face, whispering "you can do this, baby, you've got this"

the nurses let him cut the cord once his daughter is born and he is definitely crying and trying to subtly wipe away his tears

the whole family spending the next few weeks hiding in their new house enjoying their first moments with their new little girl

rafe picks her name and decides to call her emmeline, emmy for short

if any family ever gave off rich vibes, it's the cameron's. rafe has his kids dressed to the nines, nice cars in the driveway of his new house and his fiancée wearing the nicest jewellery

all the women on kildare being so jealous once they see sexy muscular rafe cameron fussing over a tiny little baby, emmy clutched tightly in his arms as his fiancée holds charlie's hand

rafe would never admit it, but he loves the looks he gets when he walks around his little girl - he might be loyal but he still likes to be reminded he's hot sorry not sorry

wedding time!!!!

i think their wedding is actually very casual, maybe even a holiday elopement

rafe doesn't really like the people in the obx that much and so when his girl suggested getting married somewhere quiet, just the two of them, he was like "mmm, why not?"

the pair get married on a private beach in hawaii, rafe in a loose white shirt and a pair of linen trousers, his girl in a silky dress (this is so serious to me)

they hire a photographer and definitely put a big wedding pic on their hallway wall

everyone in the obx knew it was coming (bc they were engaged) but people are still a little shocked that the high school couple actually got married?

i see them settling into a nice routine once back, really just wifey looking after their little family, rafe running cameron development and the family spending all their time together happily

idk i'm just very passionate about the concept of rafe being loved and giving love in return bc it's clear he's capable of it, he just needs to feel safe and nurtured

click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

click here for season 1 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

[selineram3421]

Lovesick Alastor Headcanon

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ deer man is possessive/obsessive over you, hides it somewhat, very yandere coded but doesn't force you to do anything you don't like, suggestive/implied, hint at cannibalism, blood, ☺🔪 ⚠

This goes for almost all versions of the Reader. Child reader/platonic relationships excluded.

He's had his eye on you for a while now. Of course you didn't know since he always kept his composure.

You were a jewel among rocks to him.

Will do anything to make you fall in love with him. Not make but persuade.

Uses Vox as a dummy whenever he can to make himself look good.

Waits for you to approach him.

And when you do he's the happiest demon in Hell.

He likes when you wear red. Especially if you are covered in blood.

Its not yours, no. He'd never let that happen.

Literally crazy about you.

He doesn't do PDA but behind closed doors is a different story.

Alastor is a gentleman! He won't do anything unless you ask him to. Kisses, cuddles, hand holding, biting-

*cough*

Depending on what you like of course.

Only spills your blood with your permission. Fully consensual.

Likes holding you close or having you nearby. It calms him down when he's upset or too peppy.

When you are at the hotel, he likes whisking you away to his office for kisses.

Buys you jewelry, food, clothes. A lot of gifts that are in his colors. Maybe one thing you'll wear everyday with a microphone on it.

Everyone knows to STAY AWAY.

Of course Vox is an idiot and tries to woo you but fails miserably.

"You know how much I adore you my dearest.", Alastor caresses your face. "Jusqu'à la fin des temps ou jusqu'à ce qu'il n'y ait plus que nous." (Until the end of time, or until it's just us.)

Makes sure you're content and well taken care of.

Of course there are times when he does too much and you get upset.

"Alastor, please let me do this for myself.", you'll say with a pout.

"Forgive me my darling.", he kisses the top of your head. "You know I like taking care of you, but as you wish."

He shows off his demon form because he knows you like it.

Teases you about it later in your shared hotel room, until you're hiding your blushing face.

"I thought you liked my radio dial eyes?", he leans closer, purposefully turning them into radio dials. "￦as ¡ wr¤Ω&?", he asks, static more noticeable in his voice.

"D-don't!", you'll stutter and shiver, peeking through your fingers.

His smile widens and he'll continue transforming. "What's the matter my love?", he chuckles as he looms over you. "Trouble holding back?"

Falls in love all over again when you get pissed at someone.

Watches as you tear up said demon and cheers for you. "Save me a piece or two darling!"

Man worships and adores you.

No one will ever see you make the Radio Demon blush, but you don't mind. That's only for you to see.

He's yours after all.

Thank you to @the-friend-lol for making me the gif.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-

And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)

I hear your calls <3

...............

"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"

"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."

With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.

You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.

And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.

You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.

But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.

It was like you were performing a surgical operation..

Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.

Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.

Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.

Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.

Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.

"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."

"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"

"...because I was his favorite."

"Huh..?"

"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."

'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.

Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.

"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."

"........"

Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.

Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.

Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"

He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.

'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'

Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.

You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"

"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"

Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.

You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.

"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.

He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."

"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."

"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"

Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"

"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."

"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"

"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."

With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."

"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"

"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."

"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.

You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.

He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.

"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.

"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

[talesofesther]

I'll crawl home to her

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Tales of Aemond's love for you.

A/N: In Ewan's words; the only thing that can beat Aemond is love. If you like this story, you'll like my ongoing series too. ;)

Masterlist

Aemond loves you behind closed doors.

He loves you with the way his pinky hooks around yours under the tables, during supper and council meetings.

He loves you with subtle looks and barely there smiles across rooms filled with people where he can only see you.

He loves you when he comes back tasting of heartache and guilt, with raindrops or tears staining his cold skin and clothes clinging to his body. When he stumbles into your room whispering sins against your embrace only for you to kiss the words, kiss his cheeks, kiss his scar, kiss the tears away. He clings to your body, your nightgown nearly ripping with his desperation.

But it's alright, because there's only you and him and the soft light of the candles in your room. It's alright because you cradle his head, fingertips burying between wet silver locks. It's alright because you whisper forgiveness into his ears, even if he feels undeserving.

And maybe war is now inevitable, but for a fraction of a moment, Aemond feels entirely at peace.

He loves you when you watch him from afar and notice the stiffness of his shoulders, the tapping of his fingers on the table. And then you'll find an excuse to call his name and get him away from the crowds, asking for some help with something mundane. You lace your fingers together, loose and yet so present. You take a familiar route through a lone hallway, you open the doors to the library hidden away in the confines of the Keep, pull him in, and close it again.

Aemond falls to you, his forehead is leaning against yours, his eye is closed, and he can breathe. You feel like fresh air. He nuzzles his nose to yours before asking for a kiss, it's all timid and bashful, he's not sure how to love yet, all he knows is that he feels it, insistent and warm; all-consuming.

But you hold his cheeks, you guide him, you teach him. Your fingers are in his hair and your soft lips touch the corner of his mouth; all delicate and devoted, Aemond doesn't know what to do with this much love, he might crumble.

His hands are around you, all over, and he's almost afraid to hurt you; even if you promise time and time again that he could never. Aemond sighs against your lips, and it sounds a lot like; "I am yours."

He loves you because there is no need for words with you. When he holds himself back from going to you all day—between planning for a war he's fighting alone and hearing his own mother talk of him as if he were a monster—the arrival of the night feels like a reprieve. It's the moment he waits for the most, for he can lay down his armor.

Aemond walks by the garden, picking up a single blue flower. He hides it away as he walks to your chambers, no one needs to know—even if everyone already knows anyway. He gives you the blue flower, with pink on his cheeks; he feels like a young boy in love—perhaps he is.

You kiss him, sweet and soft and tasting like the blueberries you stole from the kitchen earlier. And Aemond could cry, because if he has you, he's not alone.

You're the one who takes off his eyepatch, and then his coat, and his pants, and pulls loose his hair—you brush your lips over his shoulders when you do it, and he knows no one could love him the way you do. There's nothing sexual about it even if you're the muse of all his desires. He simply lays with you in bed, his head on your chest, and you trace the outlines of his body as you speak about your day. There are goosebumps on his skin, and he loves to hear you speak, about anything and everything, it soothes his troubled soul.

It's quiet, and Aemond falls asleep with the feeling of you braiding his hair. It'll be a little curly in parts when morning comes. He never minds it.

And he loves you with the way he won't be able to speak the three words. But he'll trace and kiss them on your skin every single night. And you understand, because you always say them back.

He loves you because of the way you sometimes hold the tip of his fingers with yours behind your backs.

He loves you with the way he'll threaten death to anyone who looks at you wrong.

He loves you with the way he could burn the whole world and yet not let a single flame touch your skin.

He loves you because you'll kiss his lips even if he tastes of blood and war.

He loves you because you'll hold his pieces together when everyone else is trying to tear him apart.

He loves you because even in the darkest of days, you're always there in the end.

He loves you because even if you exchange nothing but glances when amidst other people, you'll embrace his very soul in private.

He loves you because you wait with bathed breath when he takes Vhagar to the skies, and never think twice about mounting on a horse to gallop towards the woods outside of King's Landing when you spot the dragon's large silhouette bringing him back.

You jump from the white horse, Aemond jumps from Vhagar, and you meet each other in the middle. He holds you close in a needy embrace, as if each minute could be the last. And when you pull back, you don't ask questions or make demands, you simply run your thumbs over his cheekbones and breathe easiness into his skin. The feeling of you is always like coming home.

Amidst a world of war, you're a safe haven.

He loves you because you are the one who taught him what love feels like.

Aemond loves you behind closed doors. Wholly, truly, passionately. And with all of him that no one else is allowed to see.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Aemond's taglist is open, let me know if you'd like to be added. Or you can follow @talesofesther-library and turn notifications on to know when I’ve posted a new story/chapter.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

[vixensbrainrotts]

TR men reacting to little kids wooing you

Content: reactions

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)

Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?

Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!

(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)

Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.

(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)

Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.

(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)

Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.

(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)

The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.

[marvelfilth]

Torn (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

Warnings: set during AoA, kryptonian!reader, love triangle, established Natasha x reader - fwb situation, somewhat toxic!Natasha, smut, violence, jealousy

Summary: after your home planet is destroyed, you find a new home in Asgard, but when your brother brings you along to Earth, you find more trouble than you expected.

Masterlist

"F-fuck, Y/n. Right there… Yes." The woman below you pants in your ear, nails scraping down your back to grip your butt possessively.

Your hips move faster, deeper with each thrust, making her moan. "You could've told me you were coming back today," you grunt.

She digs her nails into your skin and you hiss in annoyance, slapping her inner thigh. "Do that one more time and I'm not fucking you for a week."

The spy lets out a throaty laugh that turns into a scream when your thrusts suddenly become harsh and uncoordinated, your hands pressing down her hips. Her tits bounce with each push, her perky nipples begging for attention. You look up to her tear stricken face, enjoying the sight of her reddened cheeks and bleeding lips.

"It was- fuck… u-undercover," she's breathless, stuttering, "... secret," she manages at last, pulling your face down to her breasts, knowing you still have something to say.

You're annoyed and maybe a little bit hurt, but you still let her guide you, eagerly sucking on the tender skin, grazing her nipples with your teeth.

Maybe she'll finally agree to talk to you after.

She comes with a stifled cry, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and gets up as soon as her body stops shaking.

You have a lot of things to say, but your mouth is suddenly too dry and your throat too hoarse, so you sit on the edge of your bed and watch her dress.

"Thank you," she kisses you on the corner of your mouth, lingering, nose nuzzling against yours when she pulls away.

She looks reluctant to leave and you hope she doesn't.

The door clicks shut on her way out.

×××

"No daydreaming on the mission briefings." Clint snaps his fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You blink, eyes refocusing to see everyone staring at you in question.

"What?" You ask, shifting in your seat.

"Stark wants to know if you like your new suit," Natasha asks with a smirk on her face.

You look up at the screen in front of the room and there it is - yet another heavily modified piece of clothing you undoubtedly going to destroy on your next mission.

You can admit it looks better than the previous one, the red is much deeper and the blue is not as obnoxious, but they still clash, not coming together as seamlessly as the one you wore back home, but that's the best Stark can offer and you're thankful he's even trying, so you nod in appreciation and send him a grateful smile.

"Think this one will fall apart mid flight?" Thor teases, reminding you of one of your most embarrassing moments.

It happened when you first joined the team. Tony made you wear a suit he made, claiming it was good to match with the team, so you've listened to make him happy and fit in better. It's a good thing you wore your underwear from Asgard that day.

"Now that it's settled we should move on to the purpose of this briefing," Steve waited until he had everyone's attention before continuing, "now that Thor is finally here we can finally take back the Scepter…" he continues with the details and you easily tune him out, focusing on the redhead woman across from you instead.

The corner of her lip is still quirked up, her eyes trained on Steve as he gestures to the map on the screen behind him. You look down at your hands on the table, fiddling with your thumbs.

You wish you were better at reading humans.

“You okay?” Clint leans into your side to whisper discreetly.

You nod, managing a convincing smile. “Didn't get much sleep is all.”

He glances at Natasha not so subtly, his brows furrowing. You think he's the only one who knows about the two of you, or, at least, he suspects.

“You know what you're doing, right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, not knowing at all.

×××

You're hovering over the base, looking through the walls for Scepter, when you first see her.

The girl looks about your age, you think, maybe a little younger, and she is busy talking to a silver haired man. They look too out of place, dressed like high schoolers and unbothered by the attack. You frown when the girl whispers a quiet "take care of the big guy" to the boy, your mouth dropping open in shock when he runs almost fast enough to go unnoticed by you. Almost.

Deciding it's your time to intervene you warn the team before landing in front of the back entrance, eyes trained on the girl behind the door. You don't know what she's capable of and you find yourself intrigued. The door opens with a squeak and you wince, mutterings a curse under your breath.

She's out of sight by the time you enter, but you can still hear her erratic heartbeat.

"Come out," you say, tilting your head to the right. You heard enough to know she's hiding in the shadow.

You hear her gulp before she steps into your field of view, her shoulder grazing yours as she comes to stand in front of you.

She is beautiful, you think, taking note of redness in her pupils.

"You know who we are," you wait for her to nod before continuing, "you can come with me." You offer your hand, palm up, and wait for her to decide.

She scoffs and her eyes turn redder. "What makes you think I want to?" There's red around her fingers now and you find yourself curious to find out what she can do.

You smile. "You will come with us one way or another. I'd prefer not to hurt you."

You realise your mistake as soon as the words leave your mouth.

Suddenly, there's red everywhere and you're out of the building, flying through the door to the other end of the backyard. You feel a pressing weight on your chest, and when you look down you see red wisps enveloping your body, keeping you pinned to the ground.

You look up when a shadow falls on your face.

She crouches with a smirk planted on her smug face, and moves your hair out of your face. "You can come with me," she offers, mirth in her eyes and you let out a breathless laugh, closing your eyes and tilting your head back.

"I'm afraid I have to say no," you whisper after a moment, strangely content at the mercy of your enemy.

She hums, waving her hand over you and you feel the weight disappear.

When you open your eyes she's no longer there.

×××

"You just let her go?" Natasha asks later that night, her head nestled on your chest after hours of hiding her moans in a pillow as you pounded into her.

You snort. "She's a witch, Nat, I don't think I can keep up with magic."

She lifts her head to look at you, eyes searching for something you're not even aware of. "You're the fastest person on this planet. Faster than her brother, and certainly faster than her."

You look away, closing your eyes in embarrassment. You didn't even think about your speed when you faced the witch.

You feel her get up from bed, and you open your eyes, reaching for her, "Natasha- " Her eyes flash, and you close your mouth.

She shakes her head. "She distracted you. And you let her go," she huffs and bends down to pick up her panties.

You get up and catch her wrist. "Can you tell me what's going on?" You ask, searching her eyes for an answer, but you're an alien and she's the best spy in the world so you're left even more confused.

She opens her mouth for a split second before snapping it shut. She pulls away and puts on a shirt before finally speaking, "I saw the footage."

You frown.

"Didn't know it only takes a little flirting and a pretty face to make you let an enemy go," she hisses through clenched teeth.

Your mouth drops open in shock.

"Are you-" you let out a breathless chuckle at the mere thought before finally getting yourself together, "are you jealous?"

You can hear her jaw grinding, can hear her nails dig into the soft skin of her palm.

And yet, you still can't believe what she just said.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, Natasha," you say, and a split second later you're dressed and out in the nearby field, searing up towards the sky.

You don't see her falling back into the pillow you layed on mere seconds ago, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

×××

There's a party the next day, and a part of you just wants to hop in your pod and disappear in the depths of space.

Another part of you wants to see Natasha happy and content, basking in the warmth of your arms. You know she'll never allow anyone to know about the two of you, but still, hope blossoms in your chest when you first see her go down the stairs. She moves right past you towards the bar, and you see Banner approach her with a nervous smile. His flirting is awkward and you pity the man, awaiting Natasha's response.

She flirts back.

"So… You and Romanoff?" Steve comes to stand beside you, smiling his fatherly smile, and you fight the urge to run away.

"You should tell her," he presses on, "she's not the most open person in the world, but from what I know about her, I think… there's a good chance for the two of you to be happy."

You've told her.

She doesn't like you back.

You shoot him a quick, awkward smile. "I'll think about it."

He nods, satisfied and walks up to the pair, his eyes widening when he overhears the last bit of their conversation. He winces and looks back at you, knowing you probably heard it all by now.

You shake your head at the concerned look he sends your way, and walk to sit on the couch, closing your eyes for a moment, letting your hearing go wild, listening in on an argument on the other side of the city, anything to remove yourself from this situation. The argument doesn't last too long, the engaged pair making up not even ten minutes later and you move your attention back to the party.

When you open your eyes Thor is sitting beside you, daring Clint to pick up his hammer. You sit up straighter, curious to see where it might go.

"Everyone knows it's some kind of a trick." His fingers wrap around the handle, but the hammer doesn't move an inch, much to the archers embarrassment.

Tony appears seemingly out of nowhere to make fun of Barton and you join in on the laughter, enjoying the rare moment of happiness, momentarily forgetting about your not so fun predicament.

Thor winks at you, enjoying this way more than he probably should, and hands you a bottle of Asgardian beer.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Natasha join your little game, Steve hot on her heels. She looks a little out of place, eyes laced with uncertainty when she sees an empty spot by your side. With a slight push from Steve she sits, careful not to touch you.

Banner is left standing a few feet away.

"It's simple physics," Tony grins, attempting to lift the weapon. His eyes narrow when it stays in its spot.

You rub your eyes when he decides to embarrass himself even further, calling Rhodes for backup and putting on his suit. The ridiculous game goes on, and Steve decides to try, you don't bother to watch, but then you hear metal scraping against the fine wood of the coffee table. Your head snaps up to look at Thor and immediately you know he heard it too, his eyes going comically wide for a split second before closing in relief when Steve doesn't pull harder, letting the hammer stay in its place.

"Natasha?" Banner nudges the redhead.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your bear. You want to go and finish the drink in the solitary of your room, maybe let out a few tears, but you promised Thor you'd stay until the very end, knowing he's set to leave in a few short days.

"I don't want to know the answer to that question," she says before taking a sip of her beer.

"Y/n?" Thor invites you to try, but you shake your head no, an excuse already on your tongue when you first hear it.

The screeching is loud enough to hurt humans, but to your enhanced hearing it's pure torture. You fall to the floor, covering your ears, letting out a silent cry and Natasha is by your side immediately, pressing you into her side, trying to ground your hearing. You hiss in pain, your head feels like it's being slit open, and you think Natasha is saying something, but you can't focus on a single thing.

The next second you feel her lips against yours and the sound is gone, replaced by Natashas frantic heartbeat.

"Focus on me, baby, come on," Natasha whispers against your lips, words barely audible. You nod, trying to regain your senses.

Her kisses move lower to your chin, then to your jaw, her fingers skimping under the hem of your shirt, setting the skin of your lower stomach on fire.

"Stay with me, baby," she mumbles in your ear.

There's a fight going on around you, robots flying around destroying everything in sight, but the only thing you see is Natasha's glistening eyes as she pulls away to check on you.

Then she's pulling you up and out of the room, narrowly missing a piece of metal flying her way, your eyes flicker around and you stop in your tracks, ready to join the fight and end it in seconds, but then there's a tug on your hand.

"They'll handle it. Let me take care of you."

You nod, feeling hope blossom in your chest.

Maybe Steve's right.

×××

They handled it and now you're off to Africa, getting ready to fight a villainous robot made of vibranium. The jet is weirdly silent - Tony's sulking in the corner, unusually quiet, Steve stares him down from his seat, jaw grinding in annoyance and you wonder what happened after Natasha led you to her room. You tried to pry away, ready to run back and join on the planning, but she didn't budge, staring you down until you relented and fell against the sheets, her fingers making quick works of your belt buckle.

Now though, she's back to acting like she doesn't care, her eyes trained on the skyline and you can't even pretend you aren't hurt.

"We are close," you warn the team, already searching for the target. Your eyes lock on the pair talking to Ultron. "The twins are there, on the second floor, talking to Ultron. We need to hurry."

Natasha looks at you for the first time since you boarded the jet. "Stay away from the witch. We'll handle her."

You scoff at her tone, mildly pissed at her bossing you around. "You're ordering me around now?" you force through gritted teeth.

Her eyes narrow and she looks like she wants to say more, but Tony pushes her out of the way to jump out of the jet, Thor and Steve following right behind him, and she's left glaring daggers at your back as you hurry along.

You look for the witch the moment you land.

She's easy to find, hiding in the shadows, waiting for a perfect moment to strike, while her brother runs around wrecking havoc.

"Little witch," you call out, startling her enough to make her jump up.

Her eyes flash in annoyance, but the second she sees it's you her lips stretch in a one sided smile. "I have a name, you know."

You nod, your lips stretching into a full blown grin. You remember how your last conversation ended, but you don't care much about the possibility of her hurting you.

"I won't," she says, like she just read your mind.

You suppose she might have, she is a witch after all.

She shakes her head, letting out a huff of laughter, "There's a lot of things I can do," her eyes flash dangerously, her smile now with a hint of malice, "make sure not to cross me." She winks and turns just in time to step out of her brother's way.

You blink, cursing yourself for getting so distracted again, and dart after her brother. It is an easy ordeal, and mere seconds later you have him pinned to the ground.

"You really should let me go," he grunts against the concrete, wiggling against your hold.

"I am an alien, not an idiot," you scoff, easing your hold on him just a little.

He stills for a moment, craning his neck to take a look at you, "An alien?"

His eyes are full of wonder, and suddenly you're reminded that the two of them are young, the same age you were when you first stepped foot on Earth.

You sigh, looking around for a cage of some sort or a piece of metal to bend around the runner.

"Why are you helping them?" He asks, wonder replaced by anger. "Do you know what he did?"

There it is. An old basement with a bulletproof door.

"Making a bomb and launching it at civilians are two very different things, you know?" You quip and his eyes flash in indignation, but before he can start his rant you push him inside, locking the door and bending the metal for a good measure.

"He did some shitty things in the past, but at least he never joined the Nazis."

You walk away, painfully aware of the truth in your words. Now that you've said it out loud you're faced with the fact that the witch you've grown to like just after two short interactions is not a good person.

Shaking your head you make your way up, one down, two to go. You squint in the dark, trying to spot Ultron, but he's nowhere to be found and neither is Tony, so you mentally brace yourself to face the witch again, but the second you step on the landing you see Thor's slumped form.

"Hey!" You shake his shoulders and slap his face for good measure and his eyes open. He's blinking rapidly, like he just woke up from a long nap, his eyes glossed over.

"Y/n!" He whispers feverishly, and pulls you in a bone crushing hug. "You're okay, of course you're okay. That witch. She warped my mind," he pants, pushing you away, "You need to make sure everyone else is okay."

You look him over, and once you're sure he's not hurt you nod, pulling him up to his feet, and take off in the direction of Natasha's heartbeat.

You stop in your tracks as soon as your eyes fall on the trembling woman. Tears stream down her face, but her eyes are focused on the floor, unblinking. She doesn't move when Clint presses her into his side, doesn't flinch when he hauls her up to her feet, but when her eyes register you she jumps as if burned, clutching at Clint.

You take a step closer, your own eyes watering, but she looks like she might throw up if you move any closer.

Clint sends you a look and shakes his head, mouthing, "I've got her."

She limps past you, shaking so violently you're sure even a human can notice.

They move past you and suddenly all you see is red.

Moving faster than the speed of light you have the witch pressed against the wall, her fingers clutched in your vice grip.

She looks up, her eyes wide and terrified.

Good, you think.

"What did you do to her?" You growl in her face, pushing her into the wall with your whole body.

No way you'll let her escape this time.

Her throat constricts. "I- Her biggest fear. I showed her her biggest fear." She sinks her body against the wall, trying to wrangle her hands out of your grip. Her heart is thrumming violently and you can't tell if the tiny skip of a beat is a result of her fear or her lie.

"She'll be fine in a few hours, I swear." Her eyes lock with yours, so unbelievably green, and you feel yourself slipping away. "Just let me go," she asks, pushing her body forwards, her fingers slipping away from your hold. Her face tilts forward until your lips are almost touching. “Let me go,” she whispers. You don't see the wisps of her magic swirl around her fingers, too focused on the way her lips move. Too many thoughts swarm your brain, but you find yourself focusing on one. You want her to close the gap.

"That's right, you want me to kiss you." Her lips almost brush against yours in a gentle peck. Your grip on her weakens completely and you're enveloped in her arms. Suddenly, she's everywhere. In your arms, in your head, in your heart. "I'm sorry about this," she whispers before pushing you off the ledge.

There's red everywhere and you find yourself falling and falling…

…and falling until your back hits the ground with a painful thud.

"Y/n! Get up. Come on." Your father helps you up, tilting your head to check the injury, but you can't focus on his face, all you can see is purple.

The planet under your feet rumbles, splitting open yet again, making your father forget about tending to your bloodied forehead in favor of hauling you up over his shoulder.

"No." You push against his shoulders when you finally realize where he's taking you. "No! I'm staying with you," you cry out, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

The sight in front of you is a nightmare. A sick, deranged nightmare. You can see the man responsible for this hold up the purple stone higher in the air, another powerful wave destroying everything in its wake.

"We have to fight, dad! We have to stop him! What about mom?!" You scream until your throat hurts, but your father doesn't budge, pushing you through double doors leading to the pods.

"We will fight," he promises, putting you down. "But you… you're destined for greatness, my child. You can't die fighting a losing battle." He places a kiss on your temple, pushing a syringe into your side.

You stare at him in betrayal, fighting against him with all your might, but your limbs get too heavy and your eyes start closing on their own.

You're pushed in the pod and your father types coordinates for Asgard. "They'll treat you as their own," he chokes, trying to fight tears, "I love you, my sweet girl."

"Y/n!"

You sit up, gasping for breath, eyes darting around the room.

"Y/n, a little help!"

Tony's voice sounds from your comms and you shudder.

"I can't-" you sob, looking around you, searching for the witch, but she's long gone, and all you can do is sit in the dark and hope someone will come and get you.

"I don't know what you saw there, kid, but our green friend might chew me up any second now. I really need you," he pleads.

Your hands shake and your legs tremble as you stand up, forcing the memory to the back of your mind. You close your eyes, letting the tears fall and tear through the roof, unaware of a pair of eyes watching you leave.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I know this page now is filled with Mafia König, and Monster König, and Slasher König, but it was revealed to me in a dream- Executioner König. Apparently, (though I don't have a source) given that the profession often met with isolation, which obviously made it hard to find a bride. Some executioners if they weren't married already, could pardon a woman prisoner if she agreed to marry him. Now enter, all in white, Reader that has commited an unspecified crime. It's still enough to be on death row for it. But Konig, seeing her, just can't let such a pretty thing die. He's lonely, and not getting any younger....

Cut to Reader confused later in life how her life from stealing or conning went to cooking potatoes and warming his bed at night while he's busy ripping someone's intestines out.

(plus fucking Reader in a pillory as a treat)

You prayed every night. They gave you a week before the execution - threw you in a cold basement, dampened your feet in water, and waited until you begged for the sentence to come faster. They couldn't - the royal executioner was out on the road from another city, and they couldn't have a royal maid to be killed by some commoner. You thought you'd have time to let them know how you didn't do what you did - how you were innocent all along if only crime for protecting yourself. No one listened, of course. The royal executioner has cold hands, and you can almost feel them preparing for the torture. This is what he is going to do, you think - put you in a pillory, slowly rip you from inside out. A fitting punishment is to dump your common blood so everyone can see just how much of a filth you are. Konig knows he has a right to you - a royal maid, probably framed. Maybe you are guilty- but he looked at your wide eyes and tear-stained face, and he didn't really care. You have soft legs and nice hips, a body that even prisoner's rags couldn't hide. You'd give him nice, fat babies - about a litter of them, poor bastard living with their father's profession. Daughters never get married, and sons get themselves wives in a similar fashion. Konig draps a hand over your thighs, under the rags - you're filthy, but he never minded. Can clean you up after, make you a wife. Honest woman, getting clean with his cock lodged deep in your cunt. He always liked girls from the royal district - clean, fresh, looking small like dolls on their fast legs. Like deers in the forest, except that he can now get himself one. Like catching a forest nymph. You don't even whimper as he drags a hand over your pussy, fingering you slowly - learned his way with brothel girls, always too nervous to actually do something, but also too horny not to. No one would be with an executioner willingly, so he would fuck you until heaven and the crown would forgive you and then would put a nice ring on your finger. Drag you to his house and made you his made - and his princess, too. Would buy you a dozen little goose feather pillows and a soft blanket from a foreign merchant so your body would forget the cold and the depth of the dungeon. He knows you'd be a good housewife because you managed to work in a castle - he doesn't care if it was the lower quarters if you only worked with other servants. He calls you a princess in bed and gets expensive cuts of lamb to cook. You burn your first one, roasting it too much, not knowing how to deal with meat if it's not made from scraps - and he ate it anyway, nuzzling his face into your breasts later as if asking for seconds. Puts a baby in you two months after the wedding. Haggles with merchants for soothing herbs and tortures 5 people per day for a bigger cut of what was in their pockets. Gets you a really nice bracelet out of some poor merchanting bastard, and you wore it like a shackle, your hands still trembling lightly when embracing him. The smell of your hair makes him forget about blood, and he clings to your body like a dog whenever he is home. Konig couldn't be happier.

[saetoru]

Tee 🥹 so RB Gojo always shows up to YNs house unexpectedly or wants her to come over. What if one day out of the blue, like 2 am she shows up at his house in tears due to stress. And for once he can be the caretaker and dependable one. And then she falls asleep in his arms arms and he gets to be the big spoon for once. I could see her whispering “you’re it for me too” while thinking he’s asleep.- dabitee anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BEFORE & AFTER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, stressed reader :(, comfort, cheesy banter lol i tried ok, slightly based off of this drabble

notes. dabitee anon. babie u are my biggest rb! gojo inspo u always think of the sweetest lil moments between them sobsss i adore you sm

sometimes, gojo forgets you're not always put together. sometimes, you struggle to get assignments finished, and sometimes you don't wake up for work on the first alarm, and sometimes studying is too much to handle no matter how determined you are for an A.

"thinking about me this late, sweetheart?" he grins as soon as he picks up your call, laying back on one arm as he stares at the ceiling. he doesn't expect to see you call at two am, but you do—and when he hears the short, wet sniffle through the phone, he doesn't waste a moment to sit up. "sweetheart? you good?"

"toru can you let me in?" you ask quietly. gojo feels every crack in your voice pierce into his chest—it's rare for you to need him like this. he thinks he's always needed you more than you've needed him, truthfully. you've always opened doors after he's stormed out on his father, you've always laced your fingers after arguments with suguru, and you've always rubbed his back when he's hunched over toilets after one too many drinks.

when was the last time you've let yourself need gojo? he doesn't have the time to even try and remember, his feet carrying him over to open his front door quietly. and it's you—you with teary eyes and puffy cheeks, you with tired dark circles and wobbly lips. it's you, but it's not the you he knows, the one he's used to.

the one good thing about gojo satoru is he always knows how to talk—he speaks enough for two, knows how to fill the silence when you can't bring yourself to speak. his arms tug you into his chest before you can open your mouth to explain.

"did you drive all the way here with those watery eyes?" he hums, "wanted to see me that bad? it's dangerous driving like that, baby."

"didn't wanna be alone," you mumble, sniffling into his chest. his hands are big—they're good for rubbing slow circles into your back, the warmth of his palm seeping in through your shirt and pressing against your skin.

"i'd have come if you texted me," he hums, "'m always up, anyway. you know i was beating suguru's ass in mortal combat? he owes me a burger."

"you can afford one yourself, idiot," you huff, making him chuckle. something about the low rumble of his chest against your cheek makes the tears flow a little faster—not because you feel worse, but because it's safe enough that you can.

sometimes, you forget gojo isn't that spoiled and whiny handful you love to call him. sometimes, you're reminded that he's used to being alone, that carrying emotions enough for two is his forte. your cheek presses harder against his chest, like you could bury yourself inside of him like that, like hiding away in his ribcage is where you're safest from the rest of the world. maybe it is—maybe all you need is him to make it safe.

"who's got my baby crying the night before an 8 am class?" he asks softly, “i’ll punch ‘em.”

“what if i say you, will you punch yourself?”

“for you, always,” he nods seriously.

he knows how to ask these things like that: like it's not heavy, like you can make a light-hearted joke or two so that you're not drowning in your own vulnerability. sometimes, you forget that gojo is no stranger to hiding his own vulnerability, that he knows how to hide it under a playful grin and a cheeky laugh.

"that group assignment's due soon and no one's done anything yet but me, and i had to pick up an extra shift to cover for someone, and that quiz coming up is apparently super hard, and my electricity bill was high this month and i don't know why, and....and—"

"okay," he hums, "the electricity might've been me," he says with a quiet chuckle, "i always forget to turn the lights off. I'll handle it, yeah?"

"but—"

"it's not paying for you," he cuts you off, "it's paying you back. there's a difference. now c'mon. i make good hot chocolate."

"it's out of a packet," you sniffle, lips curled into a pout as his thumb swipes away at your tears. he traces the swell of your cheek before pinching it lightly, making you huff.

"hey," he gasps, "it's special because i put extra chocolate in it! it's my secret ingredient."

"it's not a secret if it's the main ingredient, toru," you mumble, letting his fingers thread with yours as he tugs you along to follow him.

"do you just live to correct me?" he whines, "can't i have one thing?"

and when he hears that soft, breathy little giggle from you, he smiles to himself, the ache of his chest calming just a little. you think gojo could always do that if he tried—pull a small laugh or two out of you even if the world was crumbling around you, keep your lips curved up even as everything goes wrong.

he's enough to forget about that damn project, and that extra shift, and that absurd quiz, and that distressing bill. maybe it's in the way he makes the whipped cream look like a crooked heart in your mug, or the way he burns his tongue as he takes a sip too fast, or the way he swings your arm as he drags you to his room, or the way he wriggles his brows at you as he takes his shirt off before bed, or the way he presses that delicate, sweet, careful little kiss to your forehead as you lay on his chest.

because he has to be enough, he thinks as he holds you, he has to be good enough for you that he outweighs every bad thing you'll ever deal with. he wonders if you know you're it for him, if you know that no one else could fill the spot you've wormed your way into unknowingly. he realizes it that night you hold him, the same night you didn't scold him for ruining your sleep, the same night he finds his way to you when it feels like every road is blocked.

and when the roads are blocked you find your way to him too. so he lays quietly under your cheek, feeling your fingers trace those slow hearts into his skin as he hears you murmur, "i think you're it for me too, toru."

his brows furrow—and then he realizes you must have heard him that night, just like he's hearing you now. a small part of him wants to laugh at the odds, at the way you both can't bring yourselves to say it when you're sure you'll hear each other. the other part of him thinks maybe you were always supposed to find each other, that you were always meant to stay awake and hear hushed words that are supposed to be secrets.

but then you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes, like you know he's awake. oh, he realizes, you've always known, haven't you?

"oh yeah?" he asks, "what if someone cuter and funnier comes along?"

you giggle—not one trace of stress or fear or defeat on your features, not with him there. "i met suguru and still chose you," you tease, making his gasp in disbelief.

"that's so mean," he whines, "i made you hot chocolate with extra chocolate! you can't say my best friend is cuter. and for the record, i'm way funnier than him."

"i'm kidding," you grin, pinching his cheek. "i love you. thank you," you add quietly.

"love you too," he kisses your temple. sometimes, gojo forgets what it was like before you—and he doesn't really want to remember.

atp rich boy! gojo is just his own character to me sjfjsjfj i’ve just created a whole new dude in my head with the same irritating blue eyes