#what if you need specialized care that isn't offered close to home

[envy-of-the-apple]

Monsoon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

10.1k wc

Synopsis: Four years after Toji Fushiguro died, Satoru decided to give his widow a visit

(Warnings: age difference (nothing underaged), dark content, AFAB reader, pregnancy kink, non con, overstimulation, piv sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, rough sex)

It was raining when Gojo Satoru entered your flat. 

Not particularly harshly, but more than enough for a scare. You weren't in the mood for visitors; the rain made you drowsy, and it was coincidentally your one day off. You wanted to lean against the window and watch the droplets fall against the pavement with a warm blanket. You did not want to exchange pleasantries with some kid. 

The only reason you didn't slam the door in his face was because he said your husband's name. 

It was why you were bringing tea to someone who clearly couldn't care less about it as he lounged on the sofa. You sat on the other end, staring at the scuffed coffee table. Out of anxiety, you play with the ring wrapped around your finger. 

"...He's dead?" 

It's a question, but you already know the answer. Gojo doesn't even bother to reply, humming, taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid. You still stare at the coffee table. It's slightly crooked. One of the legs was broken. Toji promised he'd fix it. 

That was four years ago. You hadn't seen him since. 

You should have expected this. You knew the kind of man Toji was even before he stuck that flimsy ring on your finger. The kinds of people he hung out with. The suspicious amounts of money he would shower you with. There would have never been a happy end for the two of you. 

You can still feel your throat close up, bile rise from your belly. You can't do anything but watch the old table you never threw out because he promised he'd come back and fix it. 

The only reason you close your eyes, sucked in a tight breath, was because you still had a guest over. One that clearly wouldn't care about your crocodile tears. 

You've never seen someone his age so apathetic before. That temperament was associated with the people of your generation. The people who've already been in the workforce, who carried stress on their backs and hips. You can't see his eyes, but the slouch in his posture is indicative enough. Maybe all kids his age were like this. Uncaring, indifferent, subtly disrespectful. 

Because he was a kid. It didn't matter how tall he was, how much bigger than you he was. A single look was all you needed to know that this boy was at least a decade younger than you. Unkept white hair, sunglasses despite the weather, a cocky smile, a voice oozing with misplaced confidence.

You don't acknowledge it; it's clear he didn't come here just to tell you your husband is dead. 

"How old's your kid? Eight?" Gojo tilts his head. "You gotta' know what that means, right?" 

You do. Even if you weren't steeped into the world your husband willfully left, you know enough. You know how important your son is. 

It's why you stop Gojo before he can make his offer. You've already heard this before, a week ago when men with Zenin as their last names knocked on your door. 

"Thank you for your concern," you tell him as calmly and respectfully as you can. For the first time, the man straightens up, as if your answer wasn't what he expected. You can sense he isn't used to being told no. 

 You keep your smile neutral, pleasant, final. 

"But we're fine as we are."

Moments later, when he's about to leave, you offer an umbrella, insistent on him taking it. It was raining after all. He takes it with him without any protest. 

You don't notice that, despite the downpour, he was perfectly dry when he stepped into your home.

☔︎︎

Megumi was always special. 

Every mother thinks that for their child. You're no exception. As soon as he was born, tiny in your arms, swaddled in blankets, something shifted within you. You'd always wanted children, but the concrete feeling of your child in your arms when he's so vulnerable. You'd never felt anything more right. 

To you, Megumi was always special. But when Megumi turned 5, he became special to the entire world. 

Toji was never tight-lipped about the world he came from. Shamans, sorcerers, shikigami, curses. You weren't an expert, but you certainly knew more than the average person. He'd often tell you things, when he was drunk, pulling you against his bare chest, underneath cheap blankets. You always heard the bitterness in his voice. That world had rejected him. It would reject anyone who wasn't special enough. Special people were rare. 

It's why you were convinced Megumi would never have to deal with any of that. His father wasn't a sorcerer, neither were you. He'd live a normal life and would only be special to you. 

"It's on your other shoulder." 

You switched hands, reaching over to tug on your sleeve. Like always, you couldn't feel anything. There was no weight on your skin, nothing tangible that you could grab and toss. There was just this small feeling of dread. A small ache in your bones. 

He waves a tiny hand. Instantly, the feeling of dread is gone. The ache lifts and you roll your shoulders. 

"Thank you," you tell him with a strained, but grateful smile. He nods, turning back to his food. 

"You're getting more, now," he simply says. 

"Haha, sorry," you reply instinctively because even though he's eight, you feel like you've burdened him. 

"It's okay," he mutters, quiet as always. His gaze flicks back up at you, before glancing back down. He takes a second to gnaw on his lip. 

"Are...are you okay?" 

You're being so obvious even your own son could see it. 

Your smile feels more forced as you placate him with the usual lie of 'Mommy's just tired, long day at work'. He doesn't buy it, but he doesn't say anything back. He's so much like his father in these moments. Truthfully, you didn't think Megumi got a single thing from you. His black hair is Toji's, his blue eyes are Toji's, his pale skin is Toji's, and even his forever-present scowl is your late husband's. You supposed that should have been the first sign: Megumi would be anything but normal. 

You hadn't told him about the visits. You're his parent, you had justified to yourself. He's a child. He doesn't need to know about the visits. Especially, considering you decided for him. Megumi would be raised out of the jujutsu world, away from curses, and sorcerers. 

You can't have your son taken away from you like his father was.

('Special Grade', Gojo had told you. A powerful cursed spirit. You hadn't gotten closure until you let him in. No body was ever recovered.)

You can't let your son end up like that. 

But was this the right life for him? You watch as Megumi's gaze trails up, like he's tracing the movement of a fly or something bigger that you would never see. 

You can't relate to Megumi. You don't have cursed energy. You can't see the things he can. As much as you loved him, you'd never be able to understand what he is. None of his classmates can. None of his teachers. It sounds lonely. Isolating. 

Only a handful of people that could ever give Megumi that connection exist. And they're willing to accept him with open arms. 

He had been an older man, flanked by another. They eyed your home with relative disgust; you, with mild derision. It'd been their words that echo in your head today. How much happier Megumi would be surrounded by his own kind. How the clan would welcome him and teach him to hone his technique. 

They were words that would sate the parent of a lonely boy, but you couldn't help but remember the disregard in his voice. Their words made Megumi sound like a tool, instead of a child. 

The offer of payment for your son was enough to turn them away. 

Was Gojo Satoru any better? From your brief encounter, you couldn't tell. There was always a smile on his lips whenever he talked about Megumi's future and Jujutsu Tech. The lilt of his voice felt fake, artificial. But at least he didn't ask to outright buy your son. 

When Megumi's tucked into bed, you pace around the living room. You glance at the slip of paper he'd left behind. The scrawl of numbers in neat handwriting. The thing he slipped into your unsuspecting hand. You've had a glass of wine before, maybe that's why your hands are a little more steady when you punch in the numbers. 

He picks up after the second ring. It oddly feels like he was waiting for your call. 

"Can jujutsu sorcerers live normal lives?"

There's a laugh on the other end. Light. Amused. 

"No," his response is cold, even when his tone isn't, "Even if they leave the jujutsu world, they will never have normal lives." 

The answer you were afraid of, but you weren't surprised. Special people rarely live normal lives. You knew what this meant: trying to protect Megumi from his father's fate would be pointless. No matter how far you run, no matter how far you take him, it will never be enough. 

"Does it really matter, then?" you ask, "who Megumi goes with." 

"In that sense, no, not really," his voice crackles back, "But I think you've already made your decision." 

You had days ago. You were just wasting time, picking up the phone only to drop it just as quickly. As much as you'd wanted to keep your son away from the jujutsu world, you knew, even before they knocked on your door, it was a failed endeavor. Megumi was special. Megumi was too special for you to hide. He shone too brightly. 

The Zenin clan would extinguish that. You knew it. Toji knew it too. It's why he took on your name. 

It's silent again. You bite your lip. You've been doing that a lot lately. 

"Gojo, may I ask a favor?" He gives a hum. 

"Please, don't tell him about Toji." 

There's a beat of silence. The line clicks. 

Two days later, Megumi meets the strongest sorcerer of the modern era. 

☔︎

There was always something clinical about Megumi's and Gojo's relationship. 

You wouldn't call them father-son, let alone brotherly. It was strictly student and teacher. From the start, it was clear Megumi wasn't impressed with the sorcerer. His scowl would somehow get deeper whenever the young man was around. 

Gojo didn't seem all that impressed either. He wasn't as blatant, but you could sense that it was a chore for him, rather than anything else. You don't think you can blame him. He's barely twenty. He should be doing other things. Living his youth, and continuing his education. 

Gojo grew up too fast. You can see it in his face. He's never not smiling, but it's never truly sincere. It's not clinical either. It looks exhausted. You wonder-if he wasn't wearing those glasses all the time-if you'd see dark circles. 

He's too young to be running around this much. He's too young to carry the entire world of jujutsu sorcery on his back. He's too young to be an educator. A mentor. 

Yet he is. Yet he does. All with a smile on his face. 

You're less intense nowadays to him. When Megumi comes home, clearly a bit more roughed up than when he left, you criticize Gojo less harshly. When you make lunch for Megumi, you ask if he'd like anything as well. Gojo has a bigger sweet tooth than your eight-year-old son does. You never nag him for it. 

The change doesn't fully happen until that fateful conversation. It's an offhanded remark he makes about him not being there to train Megumi for a few weeks because of a mission. 

"A curse?" you ask, as if they aren't all around you. 

Gojo grins because you've discovered he likes talking. "Reports are coming down from Sendai. The running bet currently is special grade." 

You frown. "Oh. Well, be careful." 

He freezes at that. You think he's staring at you, but you're not too sure. His glasses give away nothing. Your fingers dance with nerves. Had you said something wrong?

"What?" 

You tilt your head. "Oh! Uh, 'be careful'. Stay safe." You end your sentence awkwardly. 

Eventually, Gojo recovers. "Yeah. Well, obviously." He smiles. 

You watch him leave, keeping your eye on him until he disappears into the sleek black car. 

It doesn't occur to you until much later that Gojo probably hasn't had someone worry about him before. 

☔︎︎

Whenever Megumi's training continues much later in the evenings, you go to the Gojo estate to pick him up yourself. 

It's a grand house. Practically a mansion. You've never felt so embarrassed about your humble apartment until you saw the lavishness Satoru lived in. A part of you is now even more impressed by Megumi's stubbornness. Children are the first to fall for the affluent. 

It's big, but you've never quite gotten over how empty it looks. Every time you visit, there's always just Satoru. You haven't seen his mom, his dad, any siblings. It looks like a family home, but he's the only one who's ever there. 

He's never mentioned any family. You wonder what happened to them. Where they are now. 

Somedays, you arrive a bit earlier than needed. During that time, you tend to stroll through the gardens. They're so beautiful. Large and expansive. They're empty, however, just like that grand house. No flowers. Not even weeds. It's just a bunch of dirt and stones, plainly stacked on top of each other. It disappoints you a bit. The grounds had so much potential. 

"Whatcha' got for me this time?" You jump, whirling around. Satoru is right behind you, a teasing grin on his face. 

You give him a disapproving look, though it lacks any real heat. "I told you to stop doing that." 

"Doing what?" Though he may be twenty, he acts like he's younger than your son. Speaking of your child:

"Where's Megumi?" You prod, glancing behind Satoru, as though your grumpy child would pop up behind him. No such thing happens. Satoru's incriminating smile grows wider. 

"Homework," he cryptically replies, "also, he didn't want to disturb us adults having our grown-up conversations." 

"Of course he did," is all you say, but you acquiesce regardless, digging through your bag. 

You've always been taught to bring something when visiting another person's home. You found it rude not to, despite how casual Satoru acts around you. You discovered he liked sweets the most, so you have tried your best to satisfy his sweet tooth. He seems happy with whatever you give him. One thing you like about Satoru is how he cherishes all the gifts he's received from you without any complaint. You spotted the umbrella you'd given him all those weeks ago, sitting right by the door. He'd never given it back. You'd never asked for it. 

You try to ignore the feeling that the only reason he gets excited about your gifts is that it's rare for him to receive anything at all. Satoru doesn't need to be pitied. 

It's nothing too big, just a bag of saltwater taffy from an Americanized store. He's already ripping the package open, pulling one out of the wrapper to stick it in his mouth. 

You blink when he extends his hand, another piece of candy between his fingers. 

"Say 'ah'!" 

"Oh no, I'm fine. They're for you—" Satoru interrupts you by popping the piece right in your mouth. Your lips instinctively close. 

"Oh." You say after you taste the sweet. "Peppermint." 

He laughs, taking another one out for himself. You follow him through the abandoned gardens. 

"So, how's Megumi's-"

"Nuh-uh," Satoru immediately stops you, "enough about work. Let's talk about something else!" 

You roll your eyes, but your smile is too affectionate. You ask him about his latest trip overseas. He tells you about the country he visited, the curse he exorcised, practically giddy from excitement. Conversation starts there before moving onto other things, small talk, your job. 

"It's a shame the gardens are so empty," you say when the conversation reaches a lull. 

He stares at the bare patches of dirt with you. "When I was younger, the gardeners would take care of 'em for us. Flowers would bloom every spring." 

You feel him recoil. Satoru does that sometimes. Say something too intimate, hissing when it's too late to take them back. For his sake, you don't comment on it. 

"It must have looked beautiful." Is all you respond. Understanding, but closed enough to give him relief. 

You stand there in silence for a couple of seconds. In the dirt, you can see a tiny ant carrying a grain of sand. 

"Roleplay time!" Satoru suddenly exclaims. You whirl your head to look at him. "Imagine you become the great Gojo Satoru." You stifle a laugh at that. His grin only gets wider. "What kind of flowers would you choose?" 

Toji always thought bouquets were stupid. 'There's no point' he'd always say 'the weeds will just die anyway, why you somethin' like that?'. But sometimes, he'd bring home these tiny, golden flowers. Simple. Pretty. He'd tuck it behind your ear, grinning at his work. You'd kiss him in return. 

"Marigolds," you say at last. 

Satoru only hums in response. A few seconds later, he's leading you out of the garden, rambling about how expensive sushi was overseas. 

A few days later, you see men with barrels of soil, combing through the garden. 

A week after, tiny golden flowers start poking through the dirt. Simple. Pretty. 

☔︎︎

You had that same dream again. The day Toji left. 

It's rare to have these dreams. They wouldn't leave you alone the first year he'd disappeared. Back when you thought he'd gotten bored of you and your son, like he'd finally decided he was sick of the family life. 

They come back sporadically, nowadays. You can't sleep after you have them, so you often find yourself curled up in the living room, looking at the window. It was raining. Heavy droplets thud on the glass. The violence seems desperate somehow. Like the weather is begging to be let in, to snuggle underneath the warm blankets too. 

On nights like this, it's a habit to stare at the tiny golden band on your finger. You slip it off, holding it in your palm. It's nothing extravagant—tiny with a simple design—but it's the last thing you have of him. Toji was never that sentimental. 

It's not really a dream. Dreams are more whimsical, cloudy. You can remember everything, down to the outfit he'd been wearing, the fly that had been buzzing around your door. It was like you were there all over again, begging him not to go. 

"You promised you'd stop." 

"This is different," Toji said and you flinched when he tucks away his gun. You thought he'd gotten rid of it. 

"The money?" You're pressing, "we have enough money, you-" 

"This isn't about fuckin' cash," his voice cuts through you, sharper than any blade he carried. 

"It's somethin' else. Somethin' you wouldn't understand. It goes beyond money." 

Your gaze lowers, curling your fists on the table. You can't understand, not when he refuses to tell you. Not when he barely explains why he's going back to his old ways in the first place. 

Sensing he's upset you, Toji sighs. You can hear him place something down on the dining table, metallic and clanky. Calloused, rough fingers brush your cheek, your jaw, coaxing you to look at him. You don't, forcing him to lean forward, giving a chaste kiss on your cheek. His lips are rough, cracked, but overwhelmingly gentle on your skin. 

"I love you," Toji mutters into your skin. 

You don't respond. You wish you had, you wish you'd gotten over your pride and told him because maybe then he'd still be here with you. He's giving another sigh, tucking your hair into place before he's leaving. He closes the door behind him. 

That day, you told yourself you wouldn't forgive him. Whenever he came back, you'd tell him you were done. You'd take Megumi and you'd leave. 

Now, you think you would have forgiven him. Eventually. It would have taken a while, a lot more than measly flowers and apologies. But, if he had come back, you would have let him back into your heart.

"Couldn't sleep?" you ask. 

Megumi blinks his eyes. It's past his bedtime, but you aren't going to nag him for it. You place the cup of steaming tea down on the coffee table, clicking your tongue when it wobbles. Right, four years later and you still hadn't fixed it,

"The rain was too loud." He gives. 

Wordlessly, you invite him into the cocoon you'd nestled yourself into. The sofa sinks under his weight as he settles next to you, leaning against your side. You tuck the warm blanket around his tiny body. He's still small enough to fully wrap your arm around him, bringing him even closer. You take advantage of it. You don't know how much time you have until he's too big to cuddle with anymore. 

His breaths are even and slow. He's a boy of few words, but even you think he's asleep until he's mumbling something into your ear. 

"I hate him." 

You give a confused hum, leaning down, resting your head on top of his. The coffee table looks even more uneven at this angle. It burns to even look at, these days.

"He makes you cry, even when he's not around anymore." 

You laugh at that. It's a quiet huff. When you glance down, you think you spot a faint smile on the boy's lips. He’s so much like his fathers, in the little things. You don’t think you will ever tell Megumi that. You don’t think he’ll take that observation well.

"I wasn't crying.” You tell him. “I was just thinking.”

He doesn't give a response after that. A few minutes later when you look down again, his eyes are closed, and he's drooling against your shoulder. You laugh again before gently gathering your son in your arms and settling him down to bed. 

The next day, you notice the monstrous amount of duct tape wrapped around the leg of the coffee table. When you ask Megumi about it, he just shrugs, his ears twinging a bright red. 

You throw the coffee table away. It's replaced by a new one the following week. 

☔︎︎

Satoru didn't like talking about Toji. 

You only tried prying once or twice. He was tight-lipped about it. Not quite cold, but he'd shut the conversation down quickly, more than eager to talk about something else. You missed it the first few times, but it became clear that Satoru disdained even the mention of your late husband. You can't tell if it's whether Satoru admired Toji enough that the mere mention of his name sends him into grief, or if it's something a lot more complicated. 

Now that you think of it, you barely even knew the relationship Gojo had with Toji. Had they been close? Was he just an acquaintance? Satoru had always been so cryptic about it. 

Toji hadn't. 

"He's called the strongest man?" you ask, amusement twinged in your voice, "I thought he was 12." 

"They don't care about age when giving titles," Toji replied.

You were leaning onto his shoulder, watching your son sleep in his crib. Only three months old and he had this permanent frown on his face, as if he was already sick of the world. 'He already acts like you' you once told your husband. He'd scoffed, but he didn't disagree. 

"That's a little funny," you find yourself saying. "What, can he lift a car? Does he benchpress 200?" 

Toji doesn't find the image of a child casually lifting 150lb weights as funny. He only grunts, drawing you closer. 

"I met him once," he says after a beat of silence, "back when he was barely older than a toddler." 

"Hm?" you prodded, still mesmerized by a sleeping Megumi, "what'd you think?" 

"Power," Toji responds, "more power than I'd ever have." 

You tear your gaze away from your son, glancing at your husband. Toji's eyes were looking somewhere, farther than you could see. It's the envy in his voice that you can't help but keep. A mere child already has everything Toji could ever want. Strength, a name, honor. 

You should have realized then that Toji would never belong to you. Not truly. His heart, whether or not he swore up and down otherwise, would always belong to the Jujujtsu world. It's a tragedy. Someplace that he always longed for acceptance, will never truly see him. Even when he died for it. 

Satoru will probably never answer your questions about Toji, but perhaps you could get close. 

"Why did you do it?" 

It was after dinner. Satoru had dropped your son off, and you had practically dragged the white-haired man inside with you, sitting him down on the dining table. He'd complained, but you know he secretly liked being coddled. He didn't deny the second helpings, nor the thirds. Sometimes you wondered if he was a man or a black hole. 

Megumi had already gone to bed, and you supposed he had enough of Satoru for one day. It left you and him in the kitchen, putting away the dishes. Rather, you put away the dishes, and Satoru watched. Not that you minded. It was nice to have company. 

"Hm?" He was typing away at his phone, blearily turning back to look at you. You couldn't get why he didn't just go home if he was so uninterested. 

"Why did you interfere when the Zenin came?" You repeat your question, putting the last of the plates in the dishwasher. 

Looking back, things could have gone much differently for you. For your son. You didn't realize how much power the Zenin clan had back then. Had Satoru not stepped in, had you kept rejecting them, you honestly wonder what sorts of drastic measures men like them would take for the sake of power. 

"Are you upset?" He asks, tilting his head. 

"Of course not." You smile. You were grateful for Satoru, you always have been. He's helped your family out in more ways than you could imagine. After all he's helped Megumi with, there was nothing Satoru could do to get you mad at him, hate him, not truly. 

"I was just wondering. It's not like you had an obligation to." 

You close the dishwasher with a soft click. The machine starts with a soft hum. He doesn't reply, not for a long while, when you look up, you see him staring back at you. His sunglasses were off, folded, tucked under his collar. 

"Clans are bullshit." You're surprised by the venom in his voice. There's a cinch in his jaw. You wonder how many years his hatred has been festering like this. 

"The entire Jujujstu world is, honestly. But clans are the worst of all. The hierarchy. Traditions. All dogshit. They'd gobble the kid and spit him back out. I-I didn't want him-" He stops with a hiss, like he'd said too much.

This time, you don't let him run away. 

"...you didn't want him to end up like you." You finish. 

It clicks, fits together like a jigsaw piece. The Gojo name had ruined Satoru, turned him into something he was too young to be. The name forced him to grow up faster, stronger. The name forced him to be isolated, lonely.

That conversation with Toji curls up inside of you. Back then, you'd only empathized with Toji's pain, but what about Satoru's pain? What about the amount of expectations that had been piled on top of a 12-year-old boy? What about the responsibilities he's forced to carry, each weight growing heavier and heavier but he can't break because he is Gojo? 

Satoru stands before you, but you can easily picture him as Megumi. Tiny, small Megumi who didn't speak much but whose heart was bigger than anyone you knew. He could end up like Satoru. Standing at the top of the mountain. All powerful. All alone. 

You don't want Megumi to be alone. 

You don't want Satoru to be alone. 

"Satoru." You step forward. "Could...could I give you a hug?" 

He doesn't respond. You step closer. No barrier. 

When you wrap your arms around him, you think you can feel him tremble. It takes a moment for him to catch up, for his arms to drape across your back. You clutch onto him tighter, silently promising not to let go until he does. 

He doesn't, not for a long while. 

☔︎︎

Satoru had a mission on his twenty-second birthday. So, you celebrate five days after he turns twenty-two. 

"Again," you say for the nth time, "If-if you have other plans, or anything else, I don't have to stay-" 

"Will you stop it, already," Satoru interrupts, "You're gonna make me depressed. I already told you, I got no other plans." 

 "Well," you frown, "if you change your mind, and you'd rather spend time with your friends..." 

"What other friends? You're the only one I got." 

You frown at that. He smiles, barely lingering on his loneliness. He does that a lot lately, brush it off. Perhaps it's become easier to. Perhaps it's because you're here now. 

The sun had already set on the Gojo estate. The stars were already out. Typically, you would have been antsy staying too late over, especially when Megumi was still home, but your son was a few cities over. He was training with another sorcerer, his new mentor stating that your son wouldn't be back for a couple more days. 

Wait, now that you think of it. 

"Satoru," you say, your voice heavy with disapproval, "Did you send Megumi off purely because it was your birthday?”

He grins wider, showing off his pearly whites. "No idea what you’re talking about." 

You frown harder. He clicks his tongue in distaste.

"It's not like the kid would wanna come celebrate anyway, and now you can focus on me! Two birds one stone." He flops on the couch.

"Satoru." 

"Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!" Satoru chants, as if that'll distract you. 

Unfortunately, it does. You roll your eyes, but you lean down, pulling out the pastry out of the bag. It's nothing special, and you do not consider yourself an expert in baking. It certainly isn't fancy, but you were still a little proud. Simple, a small chocolate cake, perfect for two.

Satoru stares. 

"I know it isn't much-" 

"I love it," he says and you can't tell if he's joking or not, "I'm gonna make it a family heirloom." 

You laugh at that. It shakes your shoulders. 

"I don't think cakes are built to last that long. How about you just eat it, instead." 

"Much better plan," Satoru responds, grabbing a fork, eager to dig in. 

He yelps when you slap his hand away as you give him a stern look. You touched his skin. You try not to linger at that, at the fact that he let you touch him. 

"Not now," you say, but you still smile, "you need to blow out the candles first." 

He huffs but doesn't protest when you stick two candles into the soft frosting. It takes a while to work the old lighter; you have to shoo him away when he tries to snatch it from you. You force Satoru to sit there for at least a minute as you sing the dreadful happy birthday song. He doesn't seem to mind, a mean grin growing on his face, letting you finish up the lyrics. 

Toji was mortified every time you managed to stick a birthday hat onto him, dragging him to the living room for his cake. He'd hold his infant son in his arms, his frown even less amused. Even then, he never interrupted the stupid tradition you put him through. He'd sit through the entire ceremony, Megumi asleep on his chest. A scowl would twitch on his lips whenever you managed to smear a dab of frosting on his nose.

You clap when Satoru blows out the candles. 

"What did you wish for?" You ask minutes later, swallowing down a bite of frosting. He was already on his third piece. You know you should tell him to slow down but you don't think it will do much. 

"If I tell you, it won't come true," Satoru responds, his tone light.

"That's a myth," you point out, "but keep your secrets if you must." 

You set your plate down when Satoru speaks the next time. 

"I wished for us to do this again." 

His voice is shallow, echoing throughout the empty house. You look at him, his white hair, his pink lips, his blue eyes. Everything that encompasses Gojo Satoru is focused entirely on you.

"That next year, we'll celebrate the exact same way." 

He sounded so small, as though he were younger than 22. Perhaps, a part of him was. A gentle smile spreads on your face. 

"Of course we will," you assure, before your voice gets teasing, "the next year, the year after that, and the next year until you get sick of me." You laugh. He doesn't laugh back. It's silent again, the kind of quiet that's full and meaningful. Distantly, you hear a clock ticking somewhere. It's a nice night. Peaceful. God, you were so tired from all the stressing you did for the cake. Satoru wanted to watch a movie after the cake cutting, but you wonder if he'll forgive you if you fell asleep during the film. You were exhausted. 

That's why it takes you a second to register his lips are on yours. 

The kiss is soft, and patient. His mouth moves slowly against yours. You can taste the chocolate. It takes a second to understand what Satoru was doing that he wasn't Toji before your hands are moving, reaching up to his shoulders, keeping him there as you shy away, breaking the kiss. You two stay like that for a few more moments, still touching. You can hear your breath, feel your heartbeat. A little while later, he moves closer, intent on following your mouth, before your brain kicks in and you're shutting him down, standing up. 

Satoru blinks up at you, the realization of rejection sinking into his eyes before you stumble over yourself to apologize because, dear god, you should have seen this coming. 

"I'm so sorry, Satoru," your voice is coming out in clumps, "I never meant to... I always thought...I'm a decade older than you." 

The ocean eyes crystalize, turning into cold tanzanite. You're too muddled with guilt and self-hatred to notice. Of course, Satoru would take things the wrong way. Of course, he'd misunderstand. You always thought he was wise for his age, but he's still in his early twenties. You should have been better and made your boundaries known. God, you were so stupid. 

"So?" he asks, but his voice lacks the usual snark. "Who cares how old you are?" 

You resist the urge to say something accidentally condescending. 'You'll understand when you're older' stings in the back of your tongue, and you wonder if it's fair to say considering how you acted when you were younger than Satoru­­-- when Toji was an older man who found you amusing enough for dinner and a warm bed. 

It's different now. You were older, wiser. Toji had been a mistake. A mistake you miss every day. 

"Of course, you don't," you say, and despite it all, a laugh fumbles out your throat. Shaky, delirious. "Again, I'm so sorry. It's entirely my fault-I-I should have communicated things better."  

"Why does any of that matter?." It's his turn to stand up, and it makes everything so much worse because Satoru's taller than you. "It doesn't, not to me. I lo-" 

"Stop."

It's not a yell, but it's the harshest tone you've ever used on him. Still, it's enough for his breath to falter, to give you a moment of reprieve because the only other person who said that to you and meant it died six years ago. You touch the cold metal of your ring. You twist it around your finger. When Satoru's eyes gaze down, following your movements, you force yourself to stop self-soothing. 

The ticking of the clock starts back up again. You want to smash it. 

"I should go."

You already know it's a bad idea. You shouldn't leave Satoru alone. You should stay, sort things out, mend his heart, but you're human. You want to run, sort yourself out first. You want to take the cowards' way out. Satoru doesn't stop you. You can't bear to look at him, not when it's so much to even be here. Your mind is already being thrown into disarray and you're barely remembering to grab your purse. 

Your hands rest on the door when you pause. You don't bother turning around. You know he's already looking at you. 

"Happy birthday, Satoru." 

For some reason, you cry the entire ride home. 

☔︎︎

Surprisingly, it's Megumi who asks about it. 

It'd been a week since you'd last spoken to Satoru. Communication stills, and stops completely. It goes both ways, he doesn't randomly pop by anymore, scaring the daylights out of you. You no longer buy strange-sounding sweets because you know you won't be seeing him later. One week ago, Satoru was there. The next, he wasn't. 

"Has he said sorry yet?" 

You jolt up, staring at your son. Megumi is still glowering at the vegetables you'd put on his plate. At this point, you know he doesn't hate the food. He just always looks like that. 

"What?" 

"He obviously did something to you." He mutters. "Did he at least say sorry?" 

No matter how uninterested your son always portrayed himself as, he was very observant. Of course, he would. As much as you loved Megumi, you wish he'd be just 10 percent less attentive. 

You force yourself to laugh anyway. "Satoru didn't do anything." You assure. "What makes you say that?" 

"The idiot's been sulking all week," Megumi responds, "everyone's been wondering what's up with him." 

You give him a disapproving look, but you doubt it did anything. Instead, you glance down, mindlessly poking at your plate. 

"Don't call him that," you say softly.

Megumi only shrugs. Despite everything, you still have this strange urge to defend Satoru, if only to save your own dignity of fighting with someone 10 years younger than you.

"Nothing happened. It-it was a misunderstanding, that's all." You hope your smile doesn't look uncertain. He's only ten, but he's already so perceptive. You don't think it's enough to convince him. Your smile drops. You roll your shoulders. 

Another thing you should have seen coming. Of course, Megumi would notice. Despite how annoyed Megumi acts around him, there's still a sort of bond between the two boys. A connection between two sorcerers, something you will never have with your son. You were wrong about your initial assessment about their relationship. They were much closer than you thought. Satoru cared about Megumi, as did Megumi about Satoru. Your souring relationship with Satoru might break that. . 

Your actions have consequences. To everyone, not just yourself. 

"I'll talk to him soon about it, I promise." As if to placate him further, you reach over, patting his hair. He frowns deeper but doesn't make a move to shove you off. 

To your chagrin, soon comes later that evening. Satoru breaks the ice first with a single text. 

you free tomorrow

It's nothing like him. No emoticons. No exclamation marks. You say yes, regardless. The next evening, you step out of the taxi, thanking the driver before stepping onto the Gojo property. 

It was raining, barely a drizzle, not enough to make you want to bring an umbrella. Still, the air was chilly, just enough so that you clutched the coat covering your body tighter. You carefully avoid the puddles adorning the sidewalk. 

You agreed to come here, but it's hard to keep that in mind as you climb the patio steps. You stand in front of the door for an entire minute, counting each second, before you knock. 

"Finally! Took you long enough." 

It's hard to look at him. Already, your gaze threatens to waver. You force yourself not to wrap your arms around your sides. For once, you're glad he wears those sunglasses of his. 

Satoru, on the other hand, barely looks affected by the encounter. He's dressed well, in a white collared shirt and black pants. He smiles cheerily, widening the door so you can step inside. You thank him when he wordlessly mentions for your coat. 

Your eyes catch the living room, along with the coffee table. There'd been a half-eaten birthday cake the last time you'd been here. Now the table is completely clean. You wonder what Satoru had done with it. You hoped he threw it away because the thought of him sitting there, alone, finishing the pastry filled you with so much guilt you could almost feel sick. 

"Did you see the weather just an hour ago?" He asks offhandedly, "thought the rain would smash through my windows, from how loud it was." 

"Oh?" You ask genuinely because you honestly hadn't noticed anything regarding the weather. You'd been stressing about the reunion, mind too preoccupied to care about the skies. 

"'hope the violets survived. I just planted 'em yesterday." He glances out the window as though he could see through the sheets of rain. You hum, already feeling out of place. The silence is only accompanied by the rain lightly patting on the windows. 

"You still love him." When you don't answer right away, Satoru turns back. "That Zenin guy. You love him." 

It catches you so off guard that you can't help but tell the truth. You nod once. 

He's still smiling, but the air feels off somehow. Like you're passing unmarked territory. It's a silly thought, and you brush it off immediately. Despite how strained your relationship is currently, Satoru isn't dangerous. He never will be. 

"Yeah," he responds, "I just don't get why, y'know?" 

You try to smile, but it's like pulling teeth. "I-I don't see how-" 

"It just doesn't make sense. You and him, I mean. You two are so different." 

You couldn't argue with that. Toji and you were on opposite ends. He was from a world that you would never be able to reach, let alone touch. You were a regular woman. He was a man who fought curses on a regular basis. A man who died from it. 

Satoru's laughing; it takes you a moment to realize you might have said some of that out loud. 

"Right. Fuck I keep forgetting that's what I told you." Satoru leans against the counter. "A special grade killed Zenin." 

"I mean, technically, I didn't lie, right? A special grade did kill him. A special grade sorcerer." 

Your brain stops. You can only stare. Satoru reaches up, taking off his glasses, folding them before neatly placing them on the counter. His eyes were always so breathtaking; now they look empty. Soulness. 

You laugh. It sounds delirious. "But-but you said you were one of the only special grade sorcerers around." 

"Yeah." Satoru nods along. 

"Satoru...you're not making any sense..." 

"Really?" Satoru tilts his head. "What part of 'I killed your husband' is confusing for you?" 

He continues at your silence. "I mean, it wasn't like it wasn't for a good reason. The guy shot a junior high girl for cash. Knowing him, he's probably done worse. If you're asking me, I did a good thing by killing him--oh." Satoru pauses at your expression: horrified, broken.

He's smiling. You think that's the worst part. It's the same smile he's always worn. Playful and mischievous. 

"C'mon, you seriously didn't know what he was up to. I can't tell whether you're that stupid or if he was that good at hiding it." 

You should have denied it. You should have said Toji would never do the heinous act Satoru just accused him off, but can you? Could you honestly say that? You knew Toji was in bad shit. You'd always known that. He told you about the gambling, the drugs, the money. After he married you, he promised he walked away from that life, he was walking away with you. One last job, he'd said. Just one last job and he was done forever. 

Something that goes beyond money, Toji had said, something you would never understand. 

You can hardly breathe, sinking against the wall behind you as you collapse onto the floor. Your hands are pressed against your mouth, muffling your sobs as your eyes are filled with tears. Every interaction you've ever had with Toji is flitting through your mind. You can feel the bile in your stomach, threatening to leave your lips, splatter across the floor. 

Your husband was a murderer. 

Your husband was a monster. 

His fingers are cold as he firmly pushes your hands away from your face. You glance up. Satoru stares right back. His smile is gone, replaced by a frown. He squats before you, idly tracing his pointer figure around your cheeks, catching your falling tears. 

"He took everything from me, y'know," he says, quiet, low enough that the rain almost drowns his voice, "in just a day, my entire life changed. Someone died. A person I thought would be by my side my entire life disappeared." 

"But, I gotta' thank him. Without his help, I wouldn't have become stronger, and I wouldn't have you." 

You suck in a breath at that, but Satoru isn't paying attention. His hand traces down to your neck, feeling the skin. 

"I like to think that he gave me you as an apology of sorts. It's nice to think of it that way, right?" 

You look at him, absolutely horrified at how casual he was being. 

Your husband was a monster. 

And he’d left you with another one. 

Immediately, you slap his hands away. 

"Stop." You say, a weak hiss, "don't-don't touch me. Never ever touch me-" 

"Yeah," he interrupts, ignoring your wavering voice, "I didn't think you would jump into my arms after what I said, either. But, hey, a guy can dream, right?" 

What? And before you can think, he's pressing his lips against yours. 

It's not like his first kiss. Before, when it was soft and sweet and he barely pushed, like he was savoring you. This kiss was harsh. Filled with teeth and lust and endless greed. You can taste the inexperience, and the thought that this might be the second time Satoru’s ever kissed someone fills your head. The fight is almost pathetic as you sink into his hold, helpless to do anything but wilt until he's had enough of his fill. You push against his chest, but he only leaves on his terms.

You're both panting, but you're more frazzled. His lips are blushing pink, and there's a string of saliva that stretches before snapping apart. You can feel the way his hands are positioned on your hips. Disgust and self-hatred wells up within you.

"I meant what I said that day: I love you." You squeeze your eyes at his confession. "I mean, what's there not to love? You're sweet; you're hot."

His hands play with the hem of your shirt. You stiffen as you try to claw them off of you, but it doesn't help. You don't want to look, but you just can't help yourself. It's morbid curiosity. Looking at a car crash. Your eyes open and you stare at Satoru. 

"But I think the thing I love about you the most is that you'll never hate me." 

Two glowing blue eyes stare back at you. He looks ethereal like this. Even when he's kneeling, he's still taller than you. He's always been above you. Not just in height, you're slowly starting to realize. 

You always thought Satoru hated his last name. You always thought he blamed his lineage for his loneliness, his isolation. He grew up too fast, forced to become something for the sake of others. It's why you tried so hard to treat him like an equal, as though he were another human. 

When he leans in to kiss you again, you finally understand that Gojo never wanted to part from his last name. Why would he? It was always a part of him. It was your fault for trying to humanize and connect with him. You fought for years to see him as an equal that you neglected to ask if he even wanted to be on the same plane as you. 

Perhaps, once he did. Back when candlelight illuminated his face. When chocolate was the only thing you could taste.

"You can't hate me." He smiles against your lips. "You feel too sorry for me." 

"No matter what I do to you, you'll never hate me." 

You start crying again. Satoru hushes you, wiping away your tears in a way that suggests he's not used to being soft and delicate. Yet, he's trying to be. Soon, his gentleness fades, and his impatience seeps in again. It's all too easy for Satoru to haul you to your feet. He was the strongest, after all. You struggle anyway because you're human and your heart is filled with foolish hope. He laughs at your meager attempts to push him away, and you feel that this is all a game for him. Maybe it always was. 

"Satoru-Satoru," you're begging as he pulls you through his empty house, "you don't have to do this. Please just-" 

"See? You still aren't getting it." Satoru sighs, like he's disappointed before he's tossing you in a room. You flail against the bed, your chest pressed against the cushions before he's flipping you onto your back. It's worse when he's hovering over you, both hands on either side of your head, caging you in. 

"I'm not doing anything I don't want to do. I never have." 

You expect Satoru to kiss you again, that disgusting display where he rips you apart with his teeth, consuming you whole. Instead his pretty blue eyes flit to your clenched hand. He snatches up your wrist, easily unfurling your hand.

You react too late, only reaching up to stop him when he’s done pulling the ring off your finger. Satoru barely gives it an unimpressed look before he’s tossing it aside. You can only stare in the direction of it, watching as the last thing you had of him drops into the darkness. There’s two metallic clinks before it’s rolling to a stop. And then, you hear nothing.

He lets out a breath, like he’s relieved, dipping his head into the crook of your neck.

“I was so sick of looking at that.” He mumbles into your skin, giving it a playful nip. “Parading that thing around in front of another man like that. It’s kinda’ rude, y'know?”

You give another sob when his hands dig underneath your shirt. He presses on the softness of your belly, burying his face deeper into your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groans into your neck. You can feel something press against your thigh.

You know what he was planning on doing, he made it clear ever since he dug himself into your skin with fangs. But the evidence. The hands twitching up your shirt, groping and feeling. The bulge grinding against your thigh

You can’t fight him, you stopped trying. Instead, you clench your fists again, letting the last of your tears drip down your face, praying and praying that what Satoru said wasn’t true.

Satoru isn’t nice to your clothes. You don’t know why you thought he ever would be. When he’s done with feeling and not looking, he pushes your shirt up, letting it catch just over the swell of your chest. He’s pushing your bra down, leaning down to trace your skin with his hot, wet tongue.

You jolt at the contact. It’d been so long since you’ve last been touched. He’s barely done anything and yet you’re already so sensitive. Something between a gasp and a moan is pulled out of your lips when Satoru swirls his tongue around your nipple, before he takes it fully in his mouth.

He’s tasting you, savoring you in a way you’d only seen him do for his cherished candy. He’s messy with it too, drool and spit spilling onto your skin, making you feel even colder than you already were.

Satoru has never stopped with just one candy, has he? He’s greedy, popping another and another in his mouth until the bag is all empty. It’s his natural essence to take until there’s nothing left. That’s why his hand trails down to your skirt, pushing it down before you can even decipher what he wants next from you.

You gasp when his hand presses against your panties, pushing them between your folds. The fabric lightly brushes against your clit, not enough for you to have any kind of relief. Still, a tingle jolts up your back.

“You’re soaked!” Satoru’s exclaiming. His voice comes out in the form of a laugh, light and innocent. It hurts to hear him sound like that. You have no more tears to cry again.

You want to tell him that it wasn’t you, that you don’t want him, that it’s just your body, but you doubt he cares about any of that. He pushes your panties down, letting them sit against your thighs before he’s pushing a finger deep into your wet pussy.

You can’t stop the noises this time. It’s more of a yelp than a moan, but Satoru takes it in stride as he continues to finger fuck you. When he digs a second finger into your hole, there’s a wet squelch of a sound. You have to turn away, but you can feel his smile against your skin. Victorious.

His other hands comes, pushing in between your breasts to keep you on the bed as he plants butterfly kisses down your ribs, your stomach, your hips, all the way down until he’s practically on his knees.

You were right to assume his inexperience. He’s sloppy, spreading his saliva and your wetness all over your pussy. There’s no rhythm, no clear pattern as he’s trying everything at once--swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit before licking his way into your hole.

And yet, it’s working. Your battered cunt responds to his enthusiasm, and your walls squeeze his fingers.

You can’t stop your noises. You don’t think he’s trying to stop his. His voice is muffled by your pussy, but he’s moaning and groaning so loudly. You think he’s saying something, but you can hear anything over the wet sounds of your cunt, the throbbing between your ears.

Your orgasm was inevitable, but you’re still surprised when it hits. Ramming into you like a train. Your back arches, and your thighs are involuntarily squeezing Satoru’s head. Keeping him there.

There’s a hum of satisfaction coming from him, but he doesn’t pull away. He folds your thighs, pushing them up into your chest so he can get more access to your pussy, sucking even harder on your clit. You were so far out of it that you can barely remember that this isn’t for you. It’s all for him. Satoru is greedy. It’s his natural essence to take and take until you’re nothing more than an empty bag, once filled with something sweet.

He doesn’t stop until you’ve come around his fingers and tongue a second time, when your cries are on the brink of overstimulation. When Satoru finally pulls away, the bottom half of his face is shiny. He keeps his eyes on you, messily wiping the remnants of you off his face before his leaning forward to kiss you, letting you taste yourself.

Unlike you, he doesn’t bother undressing himself. He’s unraveling his belt from his waist, pushing his pants down enough that he’s able to untuck his cock from his briefs. He’s already hard, giving his dick two cursory pumps before he’s settling his on either side of your body, keeping you there.

He’s big. Big enough that you worry he might actually succeed in breaking you. A semblance of rebellion, motivated by fear than anything else, stirs inside you. You push yourself up, elbows pressing against the mattress before he’s ending it.

There’s a grin, a flash of teeth, before he’s roughly pushing you down again.

“Satoru-“You start, you beg.

“Shut it,” he says, his smile too dangerous to be friendly, “if it isn’t begging me to fuck you, then I don’t wanna hear it.”

As though he’s taking the sight in himself, he hovers over you. The light from the window gently caresses his face in an angel kiss. His white hair is almost like halo, swathing him in an innocent shade of beauty.

When Satoru sinks his cock deep inside of you, you wonder if he’s defiling you or himself.

Just like before, he doesn’t bother letting you acclimate. He doesn’t wait, he doesn’t hold off. You can’t expect him too. Your pussy is squeezing him, edging him on. How could you expect him to not take it as a challenge and fuck you the way he’s dying to?

It’s exactly what he does as he bullies his cock deep inside your walls again and again. He whimpers, high and pitchy before he’s leaning down to bite and lick at your neck, your chest, leaving your skin with marks and bruises that will last for days.

Satoru loses his sharpness the more he’s inside of you. You cry when he leans down, circling his thumb across your clit.

“So good,” he’s mumbling into your sweaty skin, like a mantra, “so good so good. You’re so good. I love you I love you I love you-“

It’s torture to hear him say that over and over again and a part of you tries to force yourself to think of someone else to give you comfort. Scarred lips. Thick black hair.

You can’t.

Satoru has taken away everything, even your dreams.

There’s another gasp before he’s harshly gripping on your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are blown open, wide and manic.

“Say my name,” he’s begging but his grip is too tight to be anything but an order, “I-I need you to-fuck-say my name.”

“Sa-Satoru.” He lurches at that, almost collapsing into your chest.

“Again.”

“Satoru,” and then you say it again and again and again because your brain’s too muddled to do anything but listen to him.

His thumb is moving faster and faster on you clit, his thrusts are getting sloppier.

“Gonna-gonna fill you up,” An alarm of panic ring as he’s blabbering, words stilted and strained, “I gotta’—I just gotta’, can’t think of ‘nothing else—fuck fuck.” He adjusts your legs, folding your body in half so he can push that much deeper inside of you.

He smiles again. Wild. Unhinged. The monsoon that is Gojo Satoru. If you won’t wash away with him, then he is more than happy to drown you in his rain.

“Fuck,” he curses again, his voice a mix of a laugh and a groan, “think the kid would like a younger sibling?”

You can barely process his words. You don’t think Satoru could process his either. His orgasm triggers your own, and you’re both tipping over the edge together. His cum fills your pulsing cunt, searing your insides with white heat.

Satoru collapses on top of you, pressing you into the mattress of expensive sheets. You two stay like that, just the sounds of your harsh breathing fills the room. Satoru gives a shaky kiss on your lips, just as sweet and chaste as the first time.

He stays there for another minute, before he’s pushing himself up again. You can’t understand what he’s doing until you realize he’s still hard inside of you.

“Satoru—” it’s a plea, your voice overwrought with exhaustion, “Don’t—"

“One more, ‘kay?” he slurs, pushing his cock as deep as it could get inside of you, “Just—Just one more.”

You wake up hours later. It's pitch-black, the lights are gone. Distantly, you can feel Satoru's hand curled around your waist. He'd fallen asleep with his head buried in your neck. You can feel his rhythmic breathing against your skin. Outside, the rain beats on the windows, and thunder rattles in the sky. 

You wait for it—the anger, the hatred—for yourself to hate Gojo Satoru. 

He was right. Nothing came. 

#yandere jjk #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark content #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru #afab reader #tw:noncon

[kenphobia]

THE APPLE OF MY EYE!

"my type of guy? it's wally's boyfriend."

summary. wally and howdy, a hilarious duo that you wouldn't expect to get together at first glance and no one expected them to bring the newest neighbor into their relationship too. (headcanons. read author's note at the end)

contents. fluff, slight hurt, mostly silly and sweet moments, reader is hinted to be a puppet. wally and howdy breaks the law kind of, these btches wanna be gay bowser so bad

✦ Howdy isn't even sure what got him attracted to Wally in the first place, not that he needed a reason in the first place. Wally was endearing, kind and truly lived up to his name— He was a darling. And god, Howdy fell hard for his charms.

✦ And it wasn't only Howdy who fell in love, Wally too but he'd rather stare at an apple pie than admit he fell first. Howdy was a good man, and Wally was far from that. The caterpillar only knew a small bit of the not-so-good things Wally had done, but he still accepted him wholly. That was enough to make the painter want him.

✦ Their dynamic didn't change much from back when they were just friends. Other than Wally aggressively flirting with Howdy and distracting the poor puppet from work (He had to bribe Wally with a bucket of apples just to let him work in peace), everything was still the same and they didn't care if it wasn't that romantic.

✦ Howdy isn't the biggest fan of PDA, but he lets Wally hold his hand. Wally understands so that's why he spoils Howdy a lot with cuddles, kisses and hugs behind closed doors. Both of them are highly affection deprived, so they'll cuddle for hours without end whilst they stare at the ceiling or talk about their favorite things.

✦ Wally has a special room in home where it's just painting after painting of Howdy. There were some unfinished ones tucked in the corner, a few were hung up in Wally's bedroom and the best ones were set up to display around the house. Whenever Howdy does come to his house, Wally would instantly hide it in the room because he's too embarrassed to show it.

✦ Howdy knows about it though, Home showed the room to him once and he didn't know whether to be concerned or be flustered about it. He doesn't tell Wally though, letting him run around and panic about hiding them is somewhat funny to watch.

✦ The painter gets discounts on most things from the bugdega, mostly it's apples and art supplies he gets from there. Although, Howdy can be a bit mischievous at times and would ask a cuddle session or a kiss in return for certain items. Wally is more than willing to comply, he'd do it in a heartbeat, no questions even asked.

Wally lounged around Howdy's little living space in the bugdega, humming as he waited for his boyfriend to finish his shift. He gripped his pencil firmly, sketching out the final details to his drawing.

The doors creaked open, catching Wally's attention as he turned his head up from his sketchbook. Howdy walked in with a tired-looking expression, his apron hung on the coat hanger while his nametag was discarded and left atop the drawer.

Though, when Howdy saw Wally sitting on the sofa, his exhaustion was immediately replaced by a relaxed joy. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Love."

Wally shook his head, closing up his sketchbook and putting it down on the coffee table. He offered Howdy an understanding smile, "It's alright, I wasn't waiting that long anyways."

As Wally was about to stand up, He felt something pulling his entire weight off the ground as two pairs of arms wrapped around him. Howdy sat down on the couch with a comfortable hum, putting Wally down on his lap as he sunk his entire back on the sofa.

Red spread across Wally's face fast like a fever, his body stiffing for a moment but sooner relaxed within his boyfriend's firm but gentle grip. He has never felt so safe and calm before in his entire life, and warm too. Are caterpillars naturally warmer than most puppets or was it just Wally?

The two of them sat there while Wally fiddled with Howdy's hands, silently comparing it to his own and loosing himself further into sleep. Truly, the many pros of getting yourself a tall lover who loves picking you up and cuddling you like a stuffed toy.

Howdy, then, got a sniff of Wally's hair, It smelled faintly of vanilla and green apples. Howdy had to take a few seconds before realizing it was the scent of his shampoo! His eyes widened at the sudden conclusion, "Wally, have you been using my shampoo?" He asked the tiny puppet in his arms.

"Why were you sniffing my hair in the first place?" Wally argued back, a chuckle vibrated from his chest.

"I— Fair point." Howdy gave up, sighing in defeat as he adjusted his position to make both of them comfortable. Seems like Wally won't be returning to Home tonight.

✦ Before getting romantically involved with each other, Howdy always found Wally's staring a bit off-putting in some situations but he later learned that Wally really loves staring and it's one of his many ways of communicating his affection towards someone. Howdy also got the staring habit so he does the same to Wally.

✦ Wally really, really loves Howdy's eyes. He loves it more when he knows it's on him.

WALLY X READER X HOWDY!

✦ Wally and Howdy found you too adorable to even able to stay single, so they pulled you in their little relationship. Both of them are strangely clingy, with Howdy being less obvious than Wally who you always have carrying your arms.

✦ Speaking of the little painter, he likes to draw you and Howdy together! He mostly draw you two in his little sketchbook when you guys are fast asleep and have no idea that Wally is just ... standing right over your bed, sketchbook in hand and taking in every and any detail.

✦ Sometimes, you'd end up finding Wally painting the very same sketch onto a canvas. He quickly shoo'ed you out because of his embarrassment, but it doesn't really help since Home legit lead them to the very same room with Howdy paintings but this timez there are also paintings of you!

✦ It's better not to tell him what you saw because he will cry ans crumble immediately at your feet. If you did tell him, I suggest having a phone nearby so you can call Howdy to calm him down. Home isn't going to do much and actually prepared popcorn for you to eat, it's not like it has a mouth to eat the snack so...

✦ Howdy does the same discount thing he does to Wally to you except that he asks for a little bit more and adds Wally into the mix. The latter doesn't mind and actually joins Howdy into luring you to another one of their 5+ hours long of cuddling.

✦ Wally gets the most forehead kisses from you and he could only do so much by kissing your jaw oe your bottom lip, it's funny whenever he tries jumping up and down just to kiss you. He's just pull you down by your shirt and smooch you hard, pushing you gently and down on a chair before walking away with an accomplished smile.

✦You can barely give Howdy forehead kisses due to how tall he is and how much a teaser he is too, but you manage to catch him off guard and plant many, many kisses on his face. He does strike back by doing the same, but he'll tear up a bit since you and Wally are the only ones by far who has spoiled him so much of affection.

✦ Dates happen usually on the weekends or holidays, so you guys set up a cute little picnic. But if the weather doesn't look good, you all stay at either Wally's or your place, cooking from a reciepe book Wally borrowed from Poppy with some levels of difficulty. (He had to make an oath that he must quit cooking if Poppy found out he injured himself, Wally never feared for his life as much as he did back then)

✦ Wally would ask you and Howdy to be his muses! Sometimes, it's just you as the muse since Howdy is drawing side by side with Wally. If it's on paper, you always put both of their drawings up on the fridge.

✦ Your mailbox is filled to the brim with love letters from the 12 apples high puppet, and he even got Howdy on board with it. Eddie has to put both of them on a mail timeout because of how his bag was filled with love letters for days.

✦ The two of them manages to give their love letters to you regardless. Howdy would slip little notes of affection into your bags after you visited his shop whilst Wally would just break into your house and scatter his letters around. You had the enjoyment of watching Wally getting scolded by Home for breaking in.

"Home, I'm sorry—"

Home creaked loudly, angrily even as Wally immediately shut his mouth. He had his head hanging low, hands clasped together in front as he had this pouting, almost puppy-like expression. It was sad, embarrassing but you couldn't care less after you had to clean your house for 5 hours. You had no idea this little shortstack of a puppet could write and draw that much.

Howdy appeared to your side, sneaking his hand into your bowl and quickly munched on a handful of popcorn. "Wow, Home's really going at it, huh?" His voice muffled a bit due to the food in his mouth.

"Howdy, don't speak with your mouth full." You scolded him, elbowing his lower left arm. "But, yeah. Home found out about Wally breaking into my house and well... You know, house rights and privacies. Something along those lines."

Your caterpillar lover nodded slowly, unsure and confused with the whole situation. He took in a hesitant breath, the popcorns falling from his mouth and onto his hands. "Wait a second— Wally broke into your house, Home found out and is lecturing Wally about ... respecting houses?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Huh." Howdy paused, staring down at his hand. "Wait, you can't even eat. Why do you have a bowl of popcorn?"

"Well, you can't eat either, but you still took a handful of popcorn." You argued back, furrowing your brows at him.

"I— Fair point, yeah."

author's notes. you ship your oc with howdy one time and now you also like howdy, smh. the duality of men does not exist unless it's for simping welcome home chharacters.

as always, requests and sugguestions are always open !! any support is appreciated, tyvm

#writing log! #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #howdy pillar x reader #if this post's layout is wonky‚ blame tumblr #/j

[crazyk-imagine]

Obsession lies Beneath

Pairing: Dark!Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Characters: Dark!Benedict Bridgerton, Fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton

Warnings: Slight dark fic content, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, Benedict gas lighting reader, special tea use, Benedict getting high, reader is innocent, reader not your average dark fic reader, near the end of season 2, reader can be oblivious

Word Count: 2,016

Requested by: @flowercrowns-goodvibes probably something along the lines of him being obsessed with reader and wanting her to marry him, and basically trapping her with no other choice because he knows she’s the only one for him. maybe through arranged or forced marriage or kidnapping

A/N: This is my first dark fic so if it's kind of off or not a normal dark fic, yk why

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After taking the drug infused tea, he got addicted and couldn't do anything else to calm himself other than create terrible art and then came you.

He had no idea what to do then, it felt like there was nothing he could do but then there you were, and he was hooked (in more ways than one).

It was the latest season for young, eligible ladies to do their best at finding a man to call husband and, from his dear sister, he hears you have no one to call your own.

Although it may be troubling for your family, it does leave room for happiness within him, in his hazy mind.

There’s no one eligible enough to marry you, not when he plans on having you for himself (even if you don’t know it yet).

He closes his eyes, imagining you in more ways than one should. No one knows about this, the way he thinks of you.

How could they? They’d think he was insane and lock him up or banish him into his room with nothing to entertain him with.

Either way, a life without being able to see you is not a way he could live- survive even.

The first time he started thinking of you in a mature way, was an accident but once was enough for him to become addicted, a habit he can't break.

His brother couldn't have known what would become of him when he first offered the tea to him, it's not his fault.

Benedict doesn't remember how he got it since his brother was traveling but, as he sips his tea once more and it flows through his veins, he doesn't care.

His mind slows down the more he drinks and the more he drinks, the more he creates. He sets the cup down, staring at the page and sighs. He groans loudly to himself, "why isn't it, right?"

-

You follow Eloise, who happily drags you along with her.

After her minor falling out with Penelope, she didn't explain much about what happened nor did you ask, feeling it wasn’t your place to do so. She needed a friend and found- or re-found you.

You knew the family when you were little but moved away because your father had gotten a business proposal to work out of town and now that your family is settled and has gained a profitable fortune, you decided to come back to the one place you felt... at home.

Daphne, Eloise, and Anthony were the ones you spoke to the most during your youth, not speaking to the others as much and felt you could build a bond with them but didn't want to make them uncomfortable.

Benedict though, he noticed you; he always did. It became a habit over time, another thing he couldn't break, a nasty habit he knows some would say.

She enters with ease, not minding the noises coming from her brother, who disagrees with the sound of someone entering.

With the tea fully sated in his stomach, he stares at you for a little too long; not that you noticed.

You almost never do, not that he minded, it fills his obsession, and he enjoys the fact that you're a little too oblivious to his antics. You wander around the room and his skin feels like it's on fire.

Have you gotten more beautiful since the last time he saw you (two days ago).

You stand beside him and the scent of your perfume wafts through his nose, he closes his eyes, memorizing the scent to memory.

His eyes open, pupils dilating but no one notices as he offers a small smile. "Has something caught your eye?"

You turn your head to face him, a shy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Sorry, I was curious about this one. You seem so," you pause and work on finding the right word. "Focused. I've always wanted to see an artist at work."

Could this be the sign he's been waiting for since you two grew into young adults? "Have you? Perhaps-"

"You've helped me enough, we're leaving now," Eloise pulls you alongside her. "We'll see you at dinner."

His chest heaves after he rolls his neck and turns to his left, reaching for his cup. This seems to be the only thing keeping him sated as he waits to see you again at dinner.

-

He enters and his eyes are on you, the seat beside you is open, giving him the opportunity to take it before anyone else can. His hands shake as he reaches for the utensils, freezing when your pinkies accidentally bump into one another.

He feels hot the longer he sits beside you. He makes small conversations when you initiate it but there's only so much, he can do without making him sound like a complete idiot.

God knows what would happen if he was to make a fool of himself in front of you, the person of his dreams.

His mind wanders and he's lost in thought with... you are laying on the couch beneath his window, showing just enough skin to make him lose his cool. He'd lean closer towards you and lean in, listening to every little noise that comes from you.

He would stare into your eyes until he's close enough to gather the courage and kiss your perfect lips. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to close his eyes at first, longing to see every twitch of your eyes, even though they're closed.

He'd study you every moment he could (and does). He owlishly blinks, finding you looking at him, a questioning look on your face. "I'm- I'm sorry?"

"Are you feeling alright?"

Oh, your caring nature, how his heart beats faster when it's directed at him. You're too kind to someone having such crude thoughts as he; fitting really.

He messes with the napkin in his lap. "I- I- I'm fine, believe me I am more than fine," he mutters the last part under his breath, not wanting you or anyone to overhear him share his thoughts.

-

He ponders the drawing, trying to figure out what's missing but can't and rips the page out of his sketchbook before crumpling it and tossing it across the room.

The ball of paper lands at your feet, you don't know what to do. "Is everything alright?" You ask.

His body tenses. "Are you spending the night?"

"Unexpectedly, the carriage broke, and repairs won't be able to start until tomorrow when there's more lighting." He nods, glancing down to find the cut on his hand from when- he discreetly wipes his hand before you can see it.

"Are you working on something else?" You step closer, inspecting it with intense interest, one Benedict could barely wrap his head around.

"Aren't I always?" He jokes.

You chuckle at the joke because it's true, lately he hasn't been able to focus, nor has he been able to continue with one project. "Are you drawing a model?" You tilt your head, trying to figure out the position you're seeing. "Is that- you draw nude models?"

He nods, "I do, it's one of the important ways an artist can capture the human body on paper." In his haze, he sees the way your eyes trail back to the page even as flustered as you are, you're human and seeing something like this, his art; it exhilarates him. "Would you want to be my model?"

Your head snaps over to him. "Me?" You stutter, "I don't- I don't think that'd be such a good idea. I'm not- I'm not the model type."

"Nonsense," he shakes his head. "You are the perfect model."

"I don't think this is an appropriate topic we should be discussing, Mr. Bridgerton-"

He grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. "It's a harmless conversation between adults, is it not?"

He takes in your figure, then your dress, and your hair; all of it, reminding him of a little lamb (one who's wandered into the wrong den). A little lamb away from its family, all alone and waiting for its hunter to snatch it up.

"I suppose but-"

"I mean, it's not as if you'd actually be willing to model for me. It's just a conversation about art." Said the lion to guide the prey into his trap, he thought to himself.

"That- that's true."

Are you truly thinking about offering to accept and be his model? Even when you know if someone were to find out, your reputation would be ruined?

"I want to do it."

"Do you?" A sly smile tugs at the corner of his lips. And the lion caught the lamb. "Why don't we start now?"

You hesitate, fiddling with the sides of your dress. "I don't know. I don't think now is the-"

"If we do it now, no one will know. Everyone in the house is asleep and if they aren't, they know better than to disturb me when I'm working."

"I," you gulp before nodding. "Okay."

Maybe he's right, now would be a more idle time to practice.

"Okay?"

You give him a reassuring look.

-

He turns, the chesire cat like smile never fading even as he adjusts you to the position, he knows will come out perfectly.

You're nervous, letting him see you this way, so exposed, your heart beats at a mile a minute. You don't know whether to let him continue or leave while your morals are (barely) intact.

He glances up; the charcoal dancing across the paper brings you out of your thoughts. "Can I move? My arm is hurting."

"Not yet."

"But-"

"I said, not yet!" He elevates his voice.

You gulp, not saying anything further, deciding it's best not to aggravate him further.

After a while and 2 candles later, a satisfied sigh escapes him.

Your shoulders feel lighter, knowing that he's happy with his latest creation.

"You," he starts off.

You open your eyes, turning your head to face him, seeing his proud expression.

"You are my best model, I- you are my new muse."

You start pushing yourself up.

The smile falls from his face, "what are you doing?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, "I'm getting up because we're done," you say even though it sounds more like a question the longer you stare at him and take it his expression.

"We have more to do," he sets his sketch book onto the table beside him. "You are the inspiration I have been looking for. You are the reason I will thrive in school, even if my brother paid for my seat."

He kneels beside you, "we will be well-known because of your beauty," he brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "And my skills." He switches between looking into one eye and then the other. "But I can see tonight was a lot, you're tired and should get some sleep."

You don't say another word as you sit up, holding the blanket close to you.

-

He helps you with your corset, making you feel as though you did something wrong.

You shouldn't have done this.

He wraps his arms around your waist. "Get some rest, we'll get a head start tomorrow."

"I- I don't-"

"Don't tell me no, please. I can't do this without you," he spins you around to face him. "I wouldn’t survive without your help. You are the reason I can create again. Please don't leave me alone."

How can you say no when he stares at you like that?

You can't tell him no and then come to the house and pretend as if you didn't do this, pretend as if everything is okay.

"What if someone found out about you modeling for me tonight? What would happen to your family?"

You furrow your brows, suddenly your thoughts spiral back to the beginning of tonight and it's something you shouldn't have agreed to but it's too late to back out; you're too involved and he's the only one who can save you.

You no longer feel at home.

-

Tag list

@readingwithsass

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfic #crazyk-imagine #dark bridgerton fic #dark bridgerton fanfic #dark bridgerton fanfiction #dark benedict bridgerton

[suashii]

MEET THE PARENTS

info ⭑ mikage reo x reader ﾉ 0.9k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ reference to reader's parents and family

note ⭑ happy holidays! i think this is my first time writing a solo piece for reo so hopefully it isn't too bad. thanks for reading! ❤︎‬

requested by @yuukimiyas for my winter wonderland event (closed)!

reo is a punctual man—he sticks to a schedule and considers his time valuable. so when he isn’t home on time after practice on the night that you’re hosting your family for dinner, you’re struck with worry. twenty minutes behind isn’t something you’d usually bat your eyes at but you will admit that it’s strange not getting a text or call explaining his absence on the occasion he’s been fretting about all week.

with dinner started on the stove, you wipe your hands on a dish towel before reaching for your phone to figure out what’s keeping reo from home. though, before you can find his contact, the photo you have saved with his name flashes on your screen as the device buzzes with an incoming call from him.

you press the green accept button, wasting no time starting your distressed interrogation. “where are you?”

there’s a laugh from his end of the line and you can hear the faraway honking of horns. his explanation comes easily, as though you should have expected it. “i swung by the florist to pick up a bouquet for your mom.”

reo’s answer doesn’t come as a surprise. in addition to being punctual, reo is chivalrous, too. ever since you told him that your family would be visiting for the holidays, he’s made it his personal mission to make sure that everything is in order—that he’d be leaving a good impression on the ones you love.

if the preparation he’s taken so far is evidence of anything, it’s that he truly has nothing to worry about. maybe you’re a little bit biased, but how could anyone not like reo?

“you know, typically guests bring gifts for the hosts—not the other way around.” the urgency has faded from your voice upon learning the reason behind his not being here, traded in for a more relaxed tone, one with a playful edge.

“no way,” he starts, and you can practically hear the frown in his voice, “it’s their first time at our place and meeting me. i’ve gotta do this right.”

between his actions and his words, it’s clear that reo is taking the one opportunity he has with this first meeting seriously. it’s flattering to see that he cares so much, that he wants those closest to you to like him even a fraction of the way you do. your heart feels like it’s floating in your chest knowing that reo is doing all of this for your sake.

“understood.” you smile with your declaration. “anyways, did you call for something?”

“right, did you need me to pick anything up while i’m out?”

“nope,” you shake your head even though he can’t see you, “just get home safe.”

“sure thing, love you.”

it isn’t long before you hear reo’s key unlocking your front door and his house slippers shuffling down the hallway and into the kitchen. a purple head of hair greets you in the doorway accompanied by pops of red and white from the flower bouquet he’s holding. his violet eyes light up when you turn to meet his gaze and welcome him home.

“hey.” you offer him a wave from the stove before your eyes fall to the flower arrangement in his grasp. “those are pretty.”

he examines them closely, like you’re sure he did while the florist was putting the bouquet together and after he received the flowers. “you think she’ll like them?”

you hum and nod, a smile tugging at your lips upon seeing the relief that colors his face with your approval. he sets the paper-wrapped bouquet on an unoccupied space of the kitchen island before rubbing his hands together and looking to you for direction.

“what can i do?”

there’s an unspoken rule that reo doesn’t cook on special occasions. he can admit that it’s a skill he has yet to master and that the meals of guests are better left out of his hands. with this in mind, you jerk your head toward the cabinets that hold your plates and silverware. “wanna set the table?”

“i can do that,” he agrees.

while you finish up dinner, reo goes between the kitchen and dining room, neatly arranging the dishes on the festive tablecloth you had set out earlier. he kisses you with each trip he makes, first on your forehead, then your nose, and when he’s back in the kitchen for good, he plants one of your lips. the taste of familiar, minty like the gum he chews with a hint of cucumber from his chapstick. 

you’re starting to get the feeling that his nerves are calming, that the perfectionist in him is mellowing, but his next question is proof that he’s still a little anxious about the events to come. “do your parents prefer red or white wine?”

you shrug. it’s been a while since you’ve had a meal with them and even then you can’t say that you paid much attention to what they were drinking. “i’m sure they’ll enjoy either.”

he opens his mouth to protest but you shush him by pressing a finger to his lips.

“reo, relax.” you hook your arms under his to rub soothing circles on his shoulder blades. he takes your advice, taking a deep breath in through his nose and letting it leave through his mouth. your lips pull up into a grin as you feel his muscles ease, the tension seeping from his body. “they’re going to love you.”

he nods, a small smile of his own appearing with your reassurance.

only a moment later, the ring of your doorbell sounds throughout the house. you meet reo’s gaze with an encouraging sparkle in your eyes. “it’s go time.”

#[ ❄️ ] — WINTER WONDERLAND ! #₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #reo x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #reo fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #reo drabble #bllk drabbles #blue lock drabbles

[luckybunny555]

⋆｡˚⋆Gwen Stacy and Hobie Brown sharing a S/O⋆｡˚⋆

Hi!! made these bc I'm currently obsessed with ATSV and realized I might be attracted to men bc HOBIEEE but also I absolutely love Gwen, so there you go! this is definitely only part one because I have a brain filled with ideas but unfortunately I reached the limit for this post lol. The reader is gender neutral, and I haven't yet established their relationship with Gwen and Hobie so these are more general HCs considering both as the reader's love interests. The hcs may seem a bit out of order bc I just kept writing what came into my mind and I wanted to post this asap so I didn't organize very well. I guess that's all?? enjoy!!

Considering both of your close friends were (technically) homeless, and you care deeply about their well-being, you ask them to stay at your apartment, for as long as they need to

You enjoy taking care of your friends, and you also love having them around as much as possible

Gwen is quicker to accept it because her home is out of the picture for a while since she had that fight with her dad, and you would definitely bring the comfort she needs in her life after those events

Hobie, though, he's... stubborn

He doesn't accept your invite right away because "no one tells me what to do", and living in someone else's apartment would make him feel like he's not fully independent anymore

But you're just so nice to him(and hella cute when you're asking him) that he ends up giving in and accepting your offer

He says that he doesn't wanna stay for too long though, but you're just glad you can take care of your friend for a while

So now, getting flirted with has become part of your routine

Hobie's flirting is a mystery, because he's so cool and natural about it, you have no idea if he's actually flirting with you or if he's just cool and talking

Never fails to leave you flustered, regardless of his intentions

He towers you for fun

Like, he's really tall, so if you're in front of each other, and maybe there's a wall or a table behind, he'll get closer to you and put a hand right beside you and stand really close, so you're almost trapped

He thinks it's funny and cute when you get nervous because of it, aaand he likes to see the effect he has on you

He tests the ground first to see if you're ok with it, but if you're comfortable, he'll always stand very close to you

Throws his arm over your shoulder, leans on you, pulls you closer(almost suffocating you lol), depending on your height he might rest his arm on top of your head, kind of teasing you(affectionately), he's a very touchy guy

When you're having a conversation, specially more intimate and personal ones, his face will end up getting really close to yours, he'll have his eyes on you most of the time, keeping eye contact for long periods(if you're comfortable)

While you're telling him about something, he'll start to gently trace his fingers on your bare shoulder or forearm, maybe even your knee if he doesn't want to be so subtle

Something small and almost unnoticeable, but you'll feel it, and it'll give you chills

Gwen's flirting on the other hand is a bit awkward, and might make you confused most of the time

Her way of flirting is more like teasing

But the way she looks at you while making fun of the little things you do almost gives her feelings away

When she realizes that, she'll look away, hiding her flustered face

You're never sure if she's just friendly teasing you or if she's actually flirting

But then, in some moments she ends up being fully honest about what she thinks of you, and those are the only moments that you're not confused

She'll compliment you so genuinely, it'll feel like your heart is wrapped in a blanket

Unfortunately, those moments are rare because most of the time she lets her worries get to her head and that keeps her from being honest about her feelings for you

When it comes to PDA, Hobie isn't really the biggest fan of the more obviously romantic kind, but he won't keep you from being affectionate in public either

I mean, we know he's a touchy guy with those he cherishes, but this is slightly different

You might come and hug him from behind, being the clingiest person ever, and while he might not touch you as much as you touch him, he'll always do something subtle only you can notice

Like his fingers tracing random patterns on your arms or thighs, or gently kissing your hands...

If you hug him from behind(when he's like sitting down or lower than you, because again, he's really tall), throwing your arms over his shoulders, he'll hold your wrist and lightly caress it

Somehow always has his hands on you, but most people don't even notice

And Gwen, well, she isn't the biggest fan of PDA either... she might be a little awkward, specially if the people around you are looking

So, for example, you rush to give her a hug

She's a bit stiff and taken by surprise, she takes a few moments to hug you back

You ask her "is this okay?", and you notice the awkward expression on her face, realizing she doesn't seem exactly comfortable(but that doesn't mean she doesn't like it! it's just new for her to do this with people around)

So you just give her a quick kiss on the lips and let go of her, simply standing beside her

Give her a few seconds and you'll notice her linking your pinkies or resting her hand on your lower back

Subtle affection in public works best for her

You'll definetely have to deal with Gwen's mess all. over. the. place.

You've seen how messy she is, forgetting her clothes and belongings in different dimensions, just throwing them wherever

And she's also a bit careless about manners(unintentionally)

So occasionally, you'll find her clothes on your bed, or in the bathroom after she showers... literally just her belongings all over the house

So once, you decide to teach her a lesson

You found her band t-shirt on your bed, she'd forgotten to put it away after she got dressed and left

So you decided to wear it

Then, a while later, she makes another mess because she needs to find this shirt, and she doesn't remember where she put it!

She looks for it in your whole apartment, and you just see her entering and leaving every room for a few minutes while you're calmly drinking your tea/coffee/whatever in the kitchen

When she's lost all hope, she stops by the kitchen to ask you about it

"Have you seen...", she finally takes a look at you, and that's when it hits her

"Seen what?", you pretend to have no idea what she's looking for

She's a little embarassed, and she kind of can't take her eyes off of you because she thinks you look adorable/so good in it, but she snaps out of it to ask "what are you doing with my shirt?"

"Yours? Are you sure? Because I found it on my bed, so I assumed it was mine" you say, trying to sound so naive

Then Hobie, passing by you two, just goes "Nice shirt, y/n" with his usual smirk

Of course he'd join the teasing lesson, he had also noticed Gwen's mess in your apartment

Gwen's now standing awkwardly, not really knowing what to do about it, but she learns her lesson

She refuses to take back her shirt, though ;)

And even if her usual mess is now gone, you still find a shirt, or a sweater, or a jacket on your bed occasionally

Is it intentional? Who knows....

(it definitely is)

Being real though, Gwen's mess didn't bother you that much

The idea that you had a bit of her in every room in your house, it definitely did something to your heart

Now please consider: domestic affection

The three of you sitting on the couch, your head on Gwen`s lap and your legs resting over Hobie's

He keeps tapping out the rythm of songs on your legs, even if there are no songs playing

If Gwen's really focused on whatever show or movie you guys are watching, she'll mindlessly play with your hair...

And she only does that when she's distracted, because if she realizes what she's doing, she'll stop out of embarassment(and as a consequence, she'll be completely unable to focus on the movie again), the only things she can focus on now are her fast heartbeats and her warm cheeks

Hobie might notice it and tease her for it, and she'll just ignore it because she's too caught up in her own embarassment to even reply

You turn your head up to look at her, giggle a bit but try to not give her much attention or she'll be even more embarassed

And you don't want that, because you thought she was really cute and you enjoyed getting your hair played with

If you wake up early, or at least before them, you'll start making them breakfast

Both of them eat a whole meal in the morning, basically lol

Hungry beasts(affectionately)

As thanks, usually once a week they prepare dinner for you

Hobie's definitely better in the kitchen than Gwen, but she'll do her best

And it usually ends up tasting really good

Now just imagine the mess that it is going grocery shopping with both

You're trying to focus on what's on your list, but they simply won't let you

They'll be "hey, check this out!" every five seconds

Hobie will somehow always find something to tease you or Gwen about. it's like a talent

You'll buy more food than you need

Not that it matters, it'll all get eaten anyways

Specially during movie nights

(I'm already working on part two!! this ended up being a lot longer than I expected....)

#across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #hobie brown #ghost spider #hobie brown x reader #spider gwen #spider man across the spider verse #spider punk #spiderman #spiderman atsv #gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #spider punk x reader

[yanderes-galore]

Hello! May I request a winter request for borderlands 2 (or 3 you can choose either tbh) with Moxxi? Perhaps darling brings her a hot chocolate to start off the festivities? Darling can with be civilian or vault hunter, you may choose! And thank you again!

-MissPlacedHero

Sure! Here you go! Sorry it's short and took a dark turn, yet that's the nature of these fics lol.

Special Drinks

Yandere! Mad Moxxi Short - Winter Event Request

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Intoxication, Drinking until passing out, Manipulation, Kidnapping implied, Flirting, Forced affection (Sorta), Possessive behavior implied at times, Slight guilt, Coercion, Forced relationship.

“Cold out there, isn't it?” Moxxi asks you as you enter the bar. A small bag is in your arms and you take your seat at her bar. Moxxi can't help but smile, you came when she called!

“Yeah… how do you not get cold?” You chuckle, gesturing to her. She knew what you were getting at.

“Oh, I have my ways.” Moxxi laughs. “What's in the bag?”

“Look, I know you specialize in alcohol, but why not some hot chocolate for the holidays?” You offer, pushing the bag to her. Moxxi looks in it briefly, it is indeed ingredients for the holiday drink. 

Moxxi gets an idea in her eyes, briefly looking at you before nodding.

“Oh sure, sugar. Anything for you, right?” Moxxi teases before taking the ingredients behind the counter. Weren't you just so innocent?

She'd be so lucky to call you hers….

“Hot Chocolate is good and all… but it's the holidays, right?” Moxxi grins towards you. “Why not celebrate a little more… with me?”

You should've expected this. This is Moxxi's bar, of course she has a special thing planned for you. Willing to bite the bullet you accept.

“Fine, give me what you got.”

If only you didn't say such a thing.

Moxxi only felt encouraged when you consented to her plan. She quickly grabs one of the stronger drinks she has and gets to mixing. Poor you… you had no idea what her plan was.

You were blissfully unaware as she passed you drink after drink. She shares the first one with you and you both chat. Then came the next one. Maybe even another.

Slowly you began to hit your peak. Your speech was slurred yet you could still listen to Moxxi's words. All she did was watch you with a mischievous grin.

“Y'know, sugar…” Moxxi drawls, reaching over the counter to grab your free hand. “It was mighty nice of you to come over this holiday.”

“Mm… yeah?” You answer, a smile on your face.

“Well, I've been wondering…” Moxxi hums, bringing your hand up to her lips. “How do you feel about me?”

“What are you talking about?” You ask, confusion on your face.

“Sugar… I've been thinking about you for a while and I've been waiting until now to tell you.” Moxxi confesses, pressing her lips softly to the back of your hand. “I'd be honored to declare you as mine.”

“Moxxi… I-” You try to respond, having a hard time putting your words together. “I don't know-”

“Oh, please… I've been looking for the one to settle down with. I do believe that's you, sugar.” Moxxi continues to flirt, holding your hand still.

You choose to stop drinking the spiked drink and try to stand up. Moxxi lets go of your hand momentarily and comes out from behind the counter. Just in time to catch you when you stumble.

“Dear… you've drank too much, let me help you-” Moxxi offers yet you try to refuse.

“Moxxi, how much did you-” You try to ask but she cuts you off.

“You look sick, sit down and rest.” Moxxi suggests, sitting you on a sofa. Your vision begins to fail you. Oh… how much did you drink?

“Moxxi-” You ask again in a frightened tone. 

“Don't worry…” Moxxi coos, pulling you close. “Just rest… I'll take care of you.”

It was such an underhanded tactic, getting you so drunk at a bar that she can move you. Part of her feels bad but she'd been waiting so long for this. She wouldn't take advantage of you or anything… but she will be taking you home.

At home you can get all the rest you need. So, as Moxxi waits for you to give into the alcohol you willingly took from her, she can't stop smiling. Truthfully… there's only one thing she wants around this time of year…

It just so happens to be your love.

#yandere borderlands #yandere mad moxxi

[hellhound5925]

One shot - Sargent Hunter

A little something fun while I work on part three of “it’s better this way”

Warnings: 18+ (I'm always gunna say that just to be safe), mostly fluff

“I’ve never brought anyone home before”

Summary:

This is super out of any and all context but lets assume the Clone war ended happy. Hunter met a girl he really likes (who he has been with for a while) and he never thought anything of her not having a family. Let's be honest, the war destroyed a lot of them but don't worry this fic isn't about that. Our female character here does however, have someone who is very special to her and shes dying for Hunter to meet them! Also @lune-de-miel-au-paradis gave me this idea so this fic so this goes out to her and thanks to @cloneloverrrrr for the assist 🫡 you guys are awesome!

I don't want to give too much away so lets get right into it...

Standing at the door to my apartment I hesitate to open the door. It's not like this wasn't my idea because it was, but now I'm nervous. What if Hunter doesn't like him? What if he doesn't like Hunter? They both just mean to so much to me, I just need this to go well...

"Mesh'la? Everything okay?" Hunter's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

I spin around and face him, our faces only inches apart. "I really need this to go well. I'm not really worried about you, I'm more worried about how he will react. I've never brought anyone home before."

"Well I'm sure whoever he is, will see how much I care about you and understand" he explains wrapping his arms around my waist, his hands find their home in the small of my back. I can't help but reach for his face, placing both hands on his cheeks and run my thumb over his tattooed face.

"I'm not so sure it would be that simple..." I trail off. Hunter has no idea who he is about to meet and once he does it will probably make more sense. We stand there for a moment, locked in one another's gaze. His eyes are so gentle and warm, sometimes I have a hard time imagining him fighting a war.

I pull him close and give him a quick peck on the lips, "Alright ready?" He offers a nod in response.

Spinning around, I reach into my pocket for my keys and unlock the door. It creaks as it opens altering to the occupants that someone is entering. I push open the door further and reach behind me for Hunter's hand which he doesn't hesitate to take. The two of us enter together, shutting the door behind. I chuckle and glance back to see the look on his face that tell me he's confused. His eye brows are knitted together as he glances between me and my seemingly empty apartment.

"I though you said he would be here. There's no one here."

I can't help giggle as butterflies dance around in my stomach. His senses can alert him to just about anything but he still hasn't figured it out yet.

"Please keep an open mind"

At the sound of my voice, there's a thud and the sound pitter patter of small careful steps can be heard coming from my bedroom. From where Hunter's standing the view of my door is likely blocked by me and my couch. I get down on my knees and drag him to the floor with me. A small *prrrt* comes from behind said couch.

"Come here! It's okay buddy, I brought someone I'd like you to meet" I say speaking softly.

He poke his head head around the corner of the couch and his little hazel eyes flick between us. I can understand his hesitation, Hunter isn't an overly large man but compared to him...

"A cat?" Hunter's voice comes from over my shoulder. He still sounds so confused.

"I told you to keep an open mind" I chuckle and turn to face him, "Remember how I told you, I feel like we all have some kind of soulmate that might not necessarily be human?"

He doesn't take his eyes of the small creature hiding himself behind the couch, "Uh...yeah?"

"This is him! This is Rufus!" I say with pride. Hunter's eyes meet mine and the confusion seems to be gone. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

"So you're telling me I'm going to have to compete with a cat for your attention?"

My mouth drops open and I smack him on the shoulder, not thinking about Rufus. We both quickly look over and notice he isn't behind the couch.

"Now look at what you've done" he teases.

I give him a look but notice he's not looking at me, he's looking on the other side of me. As I put one hand on the floor to turn myself the other way, something furry rubs my arm. Glancing over Rufus is looking up and me and offers another *prrt* before purring. He rubs back and forth on me for a few moments paying no mind to Hunter who watches quietly. A smile spreads across my face at the sight of him just watching Rufus, taking it all in.

"Do you want anything? Some water?" I ask not really wanting to know if he wants something but looking for a reason to give him some one on one.

Hunter's eyes flick back to me momentarily, "Uh no, I'm alright thanks." I nod before getting up and heading towards the kitchen, just out of their line of sight.

Grabbing myself a glass of water, I stand there for a few minutes and decide to sneak a glance in the other room. The scene before me is exactly what I was hoping for. Hunter has made himself comfortable on the couch and I watch as Rufus jumps up on the armrest before hopping on the cushion, disappearing from my sight behind the backrest. Stepping back towards the sink, I place my glass inside before heading back into the living room.

When I enter the living room, Hunter is looking down at his lap. Not wanting to disturb whatever is going on, I find my place behind Hunter, resting my elbows on the back of the couch on their side of him. Rufus is curled up in his lap, his little golden eyes looking up at the two of us. Hunter reaches out slowly and gently pats him on the head. At the contact, Rufus closes his eyes and I can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hunter gets defensive. I cover my mouth with one hand and try not to laugh out loud. The interaction is awkward and unbelievably adorable. The war hardened soldier interacting with a small creature in a way a child does when seeing one for the first time.

Sliding one hand over his shoulder to his chest, I can feel how tense he is. I lean my head into the side of his and whisper in his ear, “You’re not going to hurt him you know.” He huffs a sigh, gently scratching the top of Rufus’ head, who is purring quite loudly at this point. My other hand finds its way to Hunter chest and at this point I finally feel him relax.

The sense of calm floating through the room right now is something I will forever cherish, both of soulmates finally meeting. I notice Hunter pause his movements before turning to face me, “Mesh’la were you worried he would not like me or the other way around?”

I can’t help the relief that washes over me, escaping as a content sigh. Finally I answer him, “Maybe…but I can see you both will get along just fine.” Patting his chest, I place a kiss on his cheek before joining him on the couch.

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @maybethatfanfictionwriter

@savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

Sorry I didn't want to give too much away in the summary because I liked the idea of a surprise! On that note, I really do believe that we all have an animal soulmate out there and mine currently lives with me. He's been with me for the last 10 years, through highschool, moved away to college with me, was with me when I got married, we got out first apartment, and our first house. He really is something special to me and I wanted to honor him in a fic! I hope you enjoyed 😊

#the clones #star wars clone wars #star wars the clone wars #the bad batch #tbb hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter #hunter the bad batch #bad batch hunter #the bad batch hunter #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #clone force 99 #bad batch x reader #the bad batch x reader #star wars bad batch #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #starwars the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb #star wars tbb #tbb fanfic #sw tbb #tbb x reader #clone fluff

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Pope telling Benny you've gone missing while on a stakeout

"Come on man, why all the cloak and dagger?" Benny jibed, "you're going to have to tell us why we're here anyway. Why did we have to follow some ridiculous instructions to get here."

"'cause we're all probably being watched, I couldn't risk anything else going wrong with this mission."

"What do you mean?" Frankie questioned. The atmosphere suddenly got very thick and uneasy.

"I um, so-" Santiago paused, unsure of how to start.

"Spit it out Pope." Tom jumped in.

"Okay, so you know I mentioned the set timings they brought people in, under the cover of night so they had more privacy?" the silence continued, "so with them knowing who I am. I needed to bring in a face they wouldn't bat an eyelid at..."

All four men wore heavy set expressions, cogs turning in their minds at where Santiago was going with this. Benny shared a look with his brother. Not liking where this was going.

"So I called in some help. Just know I didn't force this okay. I asked for a favour."

"Christ man. Spit it out." Will snapped. Not liking how sheepish Santiago was acting.

"It's Y/N. Okay she was doing some night recon for me and two days ago she went radio silent. And we had a strict agreement to check in once every 24 hours. So I knew she was okay." Santiago blurted out.

"Are you fucking kidding?" Benny asked, not sure how to take the news.

"I can't tell you how much I wish I was Ben. I'm sorry."

All five men had a soft spot for you. Having known you for a number of years. Friendships had developed across continents with them. They all cared about your safety as they did each other. Spending time both on the battlefield and at home. You'd even moved cities to be closer to the group. Since then spending a huge chunk of your time with the Miller brothers. Well. One to be particular. Benny and you had a different kind of relationship. One that had never progressed from the gooey eyed longing looks at one another from across the pool table. Among every other place you guys hung out. You supported him ringside at every match. Cheering him on and giving him the push to fight just that little bit harder. Earning you the title of good luck charm after Bennys fourth win in a row once you started coming along.

Saying that you had a special place with all of the guys. You were a constant with Frankies family. Supporting his wife while Frankie had his drug charges cleared up.

You even introduced Will to his fiancée.

Tom had listened to your advice on how he would be able to start repairing his relationship with his daughter. Resulting in them going on their first dad-daughter camping weekend.

Pope had always been a bit of an enigma with the group. But you too had a special place with him. You helped him hash out many a crazy idea. Toning them down when he got too into the idea of taking down huge conglomerates widely known to be untouchable.

"Fuck. Where was she last supposed to reach you?" Benny asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"She always called my phone from a payphone just outside the market. At two o'clock. But that last two days I've heard nothing."

"Where was she staying?"

"At a hotel on the outskirts of town, room 203. Self catering kind of deal."

"Right, Fish and Will. Go to that payphone and see if there's any sign there. I'm going to stay put see if she turns up here. Benny-"

"Go to the hotel. Got it."

The boys sprung into motion. Grabbing what they needed and heading for the truck they arrived in.

"Benny, I'll drop you off at the hotel." Santiago offered, earning a nod from Ben.

He followed closely behind Santiago. Still on the fence about whether he should give him an earful in the car of the way.

"She better be alright."

"I know. You're gonna kick my ass if she isn't."

"Damn right. But I know you didn't do this on purpose."

The ride was pretty quiet from then on. Both men itching to get to the hotel to confirm their hopes.

Benny couldn't help but scan everyone's face as they passed. Hoping she would just appear on a street corner unharmed.

Pulling up in the car park to the hotel. Benny was out the door even before Santiago could turn off the engine. Scanning the room numbers he headed for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he followed the descending numbers. 213, 212, 211... Round the corner to the side of the block. He continued, 206, 205, 204... Pausing as he locked eyes on 203. Bracing himself for the worst he reached to twist the door handle, light pressure made the already opened door swing fully open.

Letting out a quiet whistle. Signalling to Santiago, Benny reached for the pistol he had stashed in the back of his trousers. With the curtains pulled the room was dim, when he didn't immediately spot you his guard remained on high alert. The room didn't look trashed. But it didn't exactly look neat and tidy. There was some semblance of disarray.

Benny recognised your belongings though. The notebook you always scribbled in. The snacks you never went anywhere without. He even recognised one of his boxing sweatshirts in the messy bed.

Relaxing his stance, Santiago took over scanning the rest of the room. Benny looked through the ripped up paperwork on the bed, seeing you'd made notes about the targets for him. Santi headed for the bathroom, to cover all bases.

"Benny get in here now!" Santiagos voice jolted Benny out of his thoughts.

Preparing himself to see something he didn't want to, he practically ran into the bathroom. Almost tripping over a crouching Santi. Who was hovering over your unconscious figure slumped in between the wall and the toilet bowl.

#benny miller x reader #benny miller imagine #benny miller #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier

[gemini-sensei]

Parents Night | Boss!Eli Moskowitz x Nanny!Reader Pt. 3

Chubby!Fem!Reader ○ Parts One and Two

Series Masterlist

Big thank you for @sensei-venus for the idea for this part 💖 small note, but when it comes to naming characters, I just use the first name that comes to mind sometimes, so sorry if you're name is in this.

CW: mentioned parental/spousal death, angst & fluff, nothing much else (half edited).

When the twins came running up to Reader with a flier from their school, their excitement was contagious. Phoenix shoved it as her whilst she was enjoying some down time in the living room, but she was quick to close her book and give them her undevided attention. Their grins were so big and happy as they started talking over each other, practically bouncing in place.

She took the flier and discovered it was for family night at their school, where the children could show them their classroom and where they learned. Reader had small memories of such nights when she was in grade school, how much fun it was to see her little friends and show off all the art projects she'd done.

"Oh, this is exciting," she told them, smiling wide. She flatted the slightly crumpled paper out on the table, imagining one of the twins had shoved it in their backpack and only remembered it now. "We should go give this to your dad, yeah?"

"We want you to come too," Mia giggled, barely able to keep herself on her feet as she hopped with enthusiasm. "We want you to meet Ms. Summer."

"And we want to show you our classroom!" Phoenix boasted proudly.

Reader laughed as she nodded along. "Alright, I'll come too. I think Junie will like it, don't you?"

"Yeah!" They shouted together. Then they started talking over each other again and somehow hatched a plan to go pick out their clothes for the special night - which was at the end of the week.

They ran off in a hurry and Reader softly laughed behind her hand. She stood up to take the flier to Eli's office, knocking on the door gently. When she heard him say "come in," she opened it swiftly and walked in with a smile.

"I hope your schedule isn't too busy Thursday night," she said and slipped him the paper.

He took it and smiled before looking up at her. "Not at all. I can take the kids and you can have the night off."

She grinned, flattered by his offer but ultimately more happy to join. "Actually, I've been invited."

"Phoenix and Mia want you to go?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "They're very excited for it. I think they're proud of learning, which is nice. I never wanted to sit down and do homework, but they're very receptive to it. So I don't mind joining you all if you don't."

He shook his head. "Not at all. I think it's sweet of them to want you to go. Plus, I really don't want to watch all three of them in a crowded school for two hours."

They laughed over the ordeal and set up a little game plan to have the night running smoothly. It was a short conversation, as soon Mia was yelling down for Reader's help and Eli's phone rang. They parted ways with smiles on their faces, thinking nothing more of it.

○●○

Thursday night approached a lot quicker than expected, almost surprising Reader when she realized what day it was early that morning. After the kids were dropped off, she spent the morning going over statements from her boutique when she saw the date. She had to double check everything and then plan out the rest of her day around that. She finished up her work early, saving some stuff for tomorrow, and had a pretty standard time taking care of Junie.

When it came time to go pick up the twins from school, she knew that they weren't going to have a lot of time between then and when they had to go back up to the school. So she went ahead and dressed Junie in her little dress and leggings, had her bag packed, and everything they could need in the car. Then she picked up the twins, brought them home, let them have a snack, then helped them get ready for their special night. It was hassle free, thankfully, and they didn't hit any bumps in the road.

They arrived at the school and Reader made sure to keep the twins close, even though they were practically bouncing off of the walls and trying to tug her down the halls to their classroom.

Her phone buzzed and she checked it, finding a text from Eli. Running late. Start without me. Be there ASAP.

She smiled, knowing that he was trying his best. With that being said, she let the twins walk her to their classroom while she pushed Junie in her stroller.

There was artwork all over the walls, from finger paintings to yarn projects, and more. Mia jumped up when she found hers and pointed it out to Reader, smiling wide as she told her about her finger painting and about what all there was to see on it. Phoenix was less interested in showing off his artwork and wanted her to see his writing handout, which was pinned up along with others that showed off how much they were learning.

"Look, see! See! I can spell smile!" he boasted.

Reader grinned. "That's amazing!"

They finally made it to the classroom, which was full of color and laughter. There were other kids inside, showing their parents and even some grandparents around the room. The teacher was standing near her desk, talking with a couple as she wore a bright smile.

Mia took hold of the front of the stroller and started pulling it with her in the direction of her teacher. "Come on! Come on!"

Phoenix bounded ahead, laughing as he hugged the woman around her leg. "Ms. Summer!"

The adults all laughed with him and the couple excused themselves as their own child came running over to show them something. The teacher greeted Phoenix happily, then looked up as Mia lead Reader and Junie - who was squealing with glee - over.

"Hi," Reader said with a short wave.

"Hello. I'm Summer Jensen, but everyone around here just calls me Ms. Summer," she said in return. She put her hand out and Reader took it to shake. "You must be the twins mother. They talk about you so much."

Reader was taken aback, slightly shocked. She licked her lips, quickly recovering as she held the woman's hand. "No, actually I'm their new nanny, Reader."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Ms. Summer said softly, though she looked a little confused. However, she covered it up with a smile. "They just speak so highly of the pretty dresses you wear."

Flattered, Reader couldn't help but do a little twirl. She owned a vintage clothing shop after all, so she had to dress the part in her opinion. It was one of her many loves and she wanted to share that with the world as much as possible, that was why she opened her store.

"How sweet," she said. She cut a quick look at the twins to see their reaction, and though Phoenix hadn't seemed too bothered by the comment, Mia looked a little sad. "Well, Mr. Moskowitz is on his way. He's just running a little late from work."

Ms. Summer nodded. "Alright-"

"Phoenix! Mia! Come meet my big brother!" another child shouted from across the room.

Phoenix grabbed Mia by the hand and pulled her over, the two looking in better spirits than a second ago.

With them away, Ms. Summer addressed Reader. "Again, I am so sorry. I was under the impression Mrs. Moskowitz was coming."

"Um, I don't really know how to say this, but the twins' mother passed away," Reader told her, voice gentle and low. She didn't want anyone to overhear who didn't need to, or make anyone upset. Even so, Junie became fussy, as if she knew what they were talking about. "Oh, sweet baby."

Reader bent down to take her from the stroller and console her. Ms. Summer watched with sad, careful eyes.

"I assume this is Junie," she said.

Reader smiled as she bounced the baby, who started to giggle, a crisis averted. "Yeah, she's a doll. The twins love her."

"I can tell. They talk about her quite a bit as well," Ms. Summer said.

They both entertained the baby until Phoenix, loud as ever, called Reader over to the book corner. The women said goodbye and parted ways. Ms. Summer let Reader put the stroller out of the way before she walked over to the little bookcases.

"You can sit on the beanie chair," Mia said, fluffing up the beanbag chair for her.

Reader smiled. "Alright," she said and carefully took a seat with Junie on her lap.

The twins proceeded to show off all the books they liked, mostly from being read to in class. Mia showed off the ones she especially liked to sit down with during their practice reading time. Phoenix showed off the picture books with cars and monster trucks, making sure to show his baby sister all the pictures.

They sat like that for a while before the twins wanted to show Reader another corner of the room. It was a fun time, but made even better when Eli showed up.

"Well well well, having fun without me?" he asked as he walked up.

He was still in his dress pants, but had gone forgone his professional looking jacket and tie. Reader had caught onto the fact that he was a far more casual person than his position let on, though he still took it very seriously. She got the impression, though, that if he could wear a tee shirt and sweats to work, he would, but as the CEO he had to keep some sense of professionalism about him. However, when he was working from home, it was casual all the day long.

"Daddy!" the twins shouted. They ran to him and hugged around the legs, buzzing with excitement.

He crouched down to give them a hug, squeezing them tight as they giggled. Then, once he stood up, it was Junie's turn. He took her into his arms and she held onto his shirt tightly, squealing with joy at seeing him.

"I hope they haven't been too much trouble for ya," he said, looking to Reader.

"No, of course not," she said.

"Come on, daddy," Mia said, taking his free hand. "I wanna show you my sea turtle drawing!"

"Reader!" Phoenix jumped up. "I need to go potty!"

"Oh, okay," she said. She and Eli shared a look before she turned her attention back onto Phoenix. "Do you want me to walk with you to the restroom?"

"Yes, please," he said and put out his hand.

She took it and the little group split up. Reader and Phoenix walked out into the hallway while Mia took Hawk and Junie to a wall full of more artwork. The restroom wasn't a long walk from the classroom and when they got there, Reader waited outside for him.

When he came out, he took her hand again and they started walking back to the classroom. However, he had something on his mind.

"I'm sorry I told Ms. Summer you were our mommy," he said, a little sadly.

Reader stopped and crouched down to his level. "Oh, Phoenix, it's okay. But can I ask why you did that?"

"Everyone else has mommies in my class... They're all real mommies and step mommies and just mommies, but I don't have one... I miss my mommy."

"Aw, honey, I know you do," she told him. She gave him a hug, holding him close as he began to sniffle. Rubbing his back gently, she shushed him. "I may not be your mommy, but I hope I'm someone you can trust, because I'm here for you and your sisters."

He nodded and buried his face in her shirt. When he wouldn't let go, she picked him up and held him on her hip, lightly rocking him as they stood in the lightly crowded hall. She let him cry softly until he was ready to go back to the classroom.

She walked with him in her arms, his face hidden in her neck because he didn't want his friends to see him upset. She didn't mind. However, when Eli saw them, he grew worried.

He walked over, leaving Junie and Mia to play on the rug with some toys and another child. "Hey, is everything okay?"

He layed a hand on his son's back, comforting him. Phoenix was receptive to it, but clung to Reader the entire time.

"Yeah, everything's okay," Reader said softly. "I'll tell you later."

Eli nodded, though still wore a worried expression. However, it melted away when she gave him a reassuring smile, and they continued their little tour of the school.

By the time they all arrived home, the twins were starving. Dinner was ready for them, so it was as simple as sit down and eat, then get the twins cleaned up and ready for bed.

Eli took care of Junie, ensuring she was fed and that she was dressed for bed. She fell asleep quickly and he laid her down in her bed, giving her a final kiss on the forehead and a soft goodnight.

When he walked down the hall, he heard Reader's voice coming from twins' room. It was split in half between Phoenix and Mia's sides, toys strewn about, costumes hanging off of bed posts, and from what Eli could gather, a Barbie was leading a dinosaur army into battle in the corner. It reminded him about how he needed to clean out one of the other rooms to turn into a bedroom, and he mentally put it at the top of his to-do list.

He came to stop at the door and peered in, seeing her reading to them. She was almost done, but that didn't mean anything, for Eli soon became just as spellbound by her storytelling abilities as the kids were. They were hooked to every word she spoke as she gave it bravado and flare, smiling the entire time.

As it came to an end, Phoenix yawned tiredly. Reader closed the book and placed it back on the little bookcase in the room, smiling at the kids softly.

"Goodnight," she said sweetly.

"Can I have a hug?" Phoenix asked abruptly before she could even think about walking to the door.

She smiled. "Of course."

Reader leant over to give him a big hug, then made sure to tuck him in tight. Then she hurried over to Mia's side of the room to do the same, mentioning how they could all have hugs. It made Mia giggle.

Eli came into the room to give each twin a kiss on the head and tell them goodnight, then exited with Reader. He turned out the light, watching the nightlights come to life, then he pulled the door almost shut.

The pair of adults walked down to the kitchen, Reader looking to make herself a cup of tea and Eli hoping to have a word with her. He waited a moment, not wanting to rush into things since it had been an eventful and long evening. He didn't let the silence hang for too long though.

"So, what happened tonight?"

Reader looked up from her cup for a moment, then put her eyes back down. She swallowed hard, an odd lump forming in the back of her throat. As she remembered everything the twins' teacher had said, she became a little embarrassed.

"Oh, well, uh, as it would turn out, Phoenix told his teacher that I was his and Mia's mom," she explained, hoping she'd found the right words. She didn't know how to navigate the situation as well when presenting it to her boss. They were his children after all.

Eli's posture changed. He stood straighter and became a little rigid. The thought of his wife came to mind and saddened him. He'd always miss her since her passing, but it wasn't as depressing as before. The wound was healing. It wasn't hard to talk about her anymore, but it hurt knowing his children missed her so much.

Then there was Reader, who was put into an awkward position because of it. Something completely out of her control. Something she still knew so little about.

"I'm sorry," he said. He bit his lip, trying to figure out where to go from there. All he could think of was apologizing.

She smiled kindly, awkward but understanding. "It's alright. I know and understand why he did it. He really misses her and feels like he's somehow different from his classmates without a mom. I mean, he was telling me how the other kids all have moms whether they're their "real" mom or not, and I think it makes him feel a little... othered in a way."

"Did someone say something to him?" Eli asked, a ting of worry in his voice. He knew from first hand experience that some kids were unusually cruel.

She shook her head. "Not that I know of. He's a smart boy, so I think maybe he's picked up on it over time."

They were silent for a moment, and still Eli could think of nothing but apologizing.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Reader said. She finished making her tea and walked up to him. "There's nothing to be sorry for. He's still coping, and it might be a little confusing to me still, that I'm here. I mean, look at it from his view. I'm a woman that's come to live with you and your family, and I take care of them everyday. They know I'm the nanny, but I don't think they quite understand what that means."

He nodded gently, letting everything sink in. It made sense. She made perfect sense. Who was he to go out and hire someone to come into their home and help take care of his kids? Sure, he made them all a part of the hiring process to ensure compatibility, only for them to find the perfect match off of the street, but that still had to be confusing for a child.

"It's almost no different than if I'd remarried," he said softly. He didn't like it, though. The hurt was still there and such a thought had not crossed his mind once since his wife died.

Reader chuckled, lightening the mood. She smiled. "Almost. You and I are far from romantic love interests, Mr. Moskowitz."

He smiled, glad that she could tease him like a friend. He was glad that the night had not ruined the entire agreement they had. He was glad she was so involved and nurturing and good with the kids. For, if it weren't for Reader, he wouldn't know what he'd be doing now. He supposed life would be that much harder, harder when it was hard enough; when there was still an emotional toll being taken out of him and his kids; when he was a single father at a loss for what more to do, left asking himself if he was doing it all right. He was thankful she was there, beyond thankful actually.

"I can't thank you enough."

"You don't have to thank me at all."

She took her cup of tea and sipped it, then started walking to the kitchen door.

"Goodnight, Eli."

He watched her pass through the door and disappear behind it, smiling. "Goodnight, Reader."

#nanny!reader #dad!hawk #nanny au #hawk moskowitz x chubby reader #eli hawk moskowitz #hawk moskowitz x reader #hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz x chubby reader #eli moskowitz headcanons #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #gemini sensei

[tiny-tini-imagines]

OMG I just found your blog and damn I'm in love with your writing.

Would it be ok if I asked for some Witcher headcananons?

I would love to have some for Gerald as a father, (but just imagine Ciri didn't exist). So Gerlad found this girl, whose family was killed by a monster, and he took her with him and slowly became her father. So some head cannons about Gerald being a Dad.

I'd appreciate it, sending lots of love your way.

Re.: Hey, THANK YOU SO MUCH! And also thanks for the request, I loved writing it, and hope it's what you wanted.

Headcanons - The Witcher

summary: Geralt as a Father

(added: character art, what they would say to them, or about them)

Father-Daughter Bond: Geralt sees her as his own daughter, and their bond is unbreakable. He may not be the most expressive person, but his love for her is evident in the little things he does. He doesn't hesitate to show his affection through his actions, even if he doesn't always say it out loud.

A Loving Home: The other witchers, initially skeptical of her presence, have all become like uncles to her. Vesemir, in particular, has a soft spot for her and is more like a granddad figure, regaling her with stories of the past.

Protective Dad: Geralt is extremely protective of her. He watches over her like a hawk, especially when they're in unfamiliar places. If he senses any danger, he's quick to position himself between her and the threat, a silent promise that he'll keep her safe.

"I know I can be overprotective, but it's only because I care about you so much. I just want to make sure you're safe and happy." "No matter how old you get, you'll always be my little girl. And I'll always be here to look out for you, no matter what."

Teaching Moments: He takes every opportunity to teach her valuable skills. Whether it's showing her how to properly wield a sword, start a fire, or track a monster, he is patient and thorough in his instruction. He knows that these skills could be essential for her survival one day.

"I've taught her everything I know, but she's taught me even more about what it means to be a father."

Fishing Lessons: One of their favorite pastimes is fishing. Geralt patiently teaches his daughter to fish using her bare hands.

Magic Lessons: Geralt, recognizing her potential, has enlisted the help of Triss or Yennefer to teach his daughter magic.

Nightmares and Comfort: Geralt always knows when she has nightmares, even if she tries to hide them. When she wakes up in a cold sweat, he's there to comfort her. He holds her close, whispering soothing words and stroking her hair until she can fall back asleep, feeling safe in his arms. However, sometimes, words are not necessary. Geralt will sit by her side in silence, offering his comforting presence. His strong, reassuring presence alone is enough to ease her fears.

"Don't ever forget that you can come to me with anything, whether it's a nightmare or a problem you're facing. I'll always be here for you."

Cuddles and Reassurance: Whenever she can't sleep, Geralt lets her rest on his chest. His slow, steady witcher heartbeat acts as a lullaby, calming her nerves. He often murmurs stories of their adventures, reminding her that she's never alone as long as he's around.

Unspoken Understanding: Geralt and his daughter have an unspoken understanding of each other's emotions and needs. They can communicate without words, knowing when the other needs space, comfort, or a listening ear.

Protective Stares: When they're out in public, Geralt's protective instincts kick in. He'll give anyone who looks at her a stern, warning glare, ensuring they keep their distance. She often teases him about being an overprotective dad, but secretly, she appreciates it. However he'll always observe anyone who gets too close to his daughter, especially young men who may be interested in her romantically. He watches them like a hawk and isn't afraid to make his presence known if he feels they're crossing boundaries.

Special Nicknames: Geralt has a soft spot for calling her by special nicknames, like "Little Wolf". These names are his way of showing affection without having to say the words out.

Inside Jokes: They share a ton of inside jokes from their adventures together. These jokes often involve specific monsters, places they've been, or humorous situations they've found themselves in. They can exchange a knowing glance and burst into laughter while others look on in confusion.

For instance, they might exchange a knowing glance and say: "Well, it's not another cursed Djinn, at least."

Grooming Ritual: Just as wolves in a pack groom each other as a sign of care and affection, Geralt has a ritual of carefully checking her equipment, for example ensuring her sword is sharp...

Hugs with Heart: Geralt's hugs may not be frequent, but when he does embrace her, it's full of warmth and love. He squeezes her gently, and it's a silent reassurance that no matter what challenges they face, they'll always have each other. OR It's a strong, one-armed embrace that speaks volumes about his affection and protection.

Nurturing Nature: Geralt may not be the most nurturing person, but when she is feeling unwell or has had a rough day, he surprises her with simple comforts like a warm meal, a cozy blanket, or a soothing cup of tea. He does these things quietly, without drawing attention to them.

Words of Encouragement: Whenever his daughter faces a challenge, Geralt is there to offer words of encouragement. He believes in her abilities and constantly reminds her that she's more than capable of handling whatever comes her way.

"Remember, it's okay to ask for help when you need it. You don't have to carry everything on your own shoulders."

The "Real Daughter" Comment: If anyone were foolish enough to suggest that she isn't his real daughter, Geralt's response would be swift and stern. He'd shut down such remarks with a single cold look and a firm, "She's my daughter, and that's all that matters."

"I've raised her, protected her, and loved her since she was just a frightened child. That makes her my daughter, no matter what anyone says."

The Origin Question: If she were to ask about her origins, Geralt would sit her down and explain the circumstances of how he found her. He'd emphasize that it doesn't matter where she came from; what matters is the family they've become and the love they share.

"You're my family, Little Wolf. Blood doesn't make family; the bonds we forge do." "No matter where life takes you, always know that you have a home here at Kaer Morhen, and you have a family who loves you."

Proud Dad Moments: Geralt is incredibly proud of her talents, whether it's her proficiency in combat or her mastery of magic. He doesn't shy away from expressing his pride when she accomplishes something remarkable, even if it's just a simple, approving nod.

Shared Secrets: They have a few secrets that only they know, like a hidden spot in Kaer Morhen where they go to stargaze.

#the witcher imagine #the witcher headcanon #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt the witcher #the witcher x daughter #the witcher x child #yennefer of vengerberg #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanart #twn #geralt x yennefer #geralt x child #geralt x daughter #kaer morhen #vesemir #triss merigold

[pilots-and-protons]

Since I am constantly seeing discourse about the subject (especially in regards to thoughts I've expressed in my fanfic), I want to explain my opinion on some things. But I'm going to ignore the crazy sci-fi and break it down into more a understandable context.

Imagine you have a co-worker. He's kind of a jerk and he's said some dumb shit, and you rightfully write him off for it. Unfortunately, your new friend is also his best friend, so the three of you kind of hang out sometimes. And you still work together. He's good at his job, but you think his personality leaves a lot to be desired. At best, you're acquaintances, at worst you're less-than-cordial colleagues.

Then you get into some trouble, are in a bad place, and he ends up unintentionally being on the receiving end of you spilling your guts about personal baggage. He can't relate exactly, but he makes sure you know that he sympathizes, and doesn't make fun of you or bring up how vulnerable you were. Your secret is safe with him, which seems counterintuitive to his character. He's actually rather nice throughout the whole incident. So okay, maybe your friend has a reason for liking this guy. After that you work together some more, the three of you, even collaborating on some big special project. You warm up to him (he's actually a lot nicer than he initially seemed, once he stops trying to pretend like he's hot shit).

You might even tentatively consider him a friend. Not a close friend, but a friend. You'll eat lunch together at work; he'd probably give you a ride if you needed one. But there's a difference between work friends and real friends. You've been treated pretty poorly by people in the past, and you're not just going to trust any random person for the really important stuff. Good friends, best friends would lend you their car. They'd bring you soup if you were sick, listen to your problems, keep your deepest secrets, take care of you - especially when you can't take care of yourself. He's also been watching you, trying to flirt and has subtly asked you out a couple times. You think this guy isn't so bad, but you don't trust him - not like that.

And then you're with some people at a gathering and suddenly, you've been drugged. Everything is hot and fuzzy and all you can think about is picking up someone and screwing their brains out. And there he is, your sort-of-a-friend. You spend the night throwing yourself at him - touching him, pushing him against the wall, practically trying to tear his clothes off. All you can think is why not? He's easy, he's got a reputation - and obviously you're not thinking clearly because of the drugs.

Except instead of hauling you off to some room, he pushes your hands away - says that you're sick, you need to go home. He calls you a cab, but when he sees the state you're in, he climbs in with you and tells the driver your address. You're trying to get into his lap, insisting that you want this, that whatever you've said before about his advances aren't true. You're so doped up and out of your mind, even you aren't sure if these are lies or the truth. And for a minute, he gives in when you kiss him - he's kissing you back. But he stops, despite your protests, despite the fact that things he's said have you sure that he wants what you're offering. Instead, he gets you home, makes sure you've got water and something for a hangover. He gets your shoes off so you're comfortable, but tucks you into bed fully-clothed. He calls your mutual friend to check up on you in the morning in case you're too sick and need help. Then he leaves.

How would that not change your perspective? This is someone you thought was only a surface level work friend, someone you weren't sure you could trust. Then he took care of you, kept you safe, made sure you were ok when you were vulnerable, and stopped you from doing something you'd regret. Suddenly this guy went from a "sure I'll spot you five bucks for a coffee" friend to, "let me hold you hair back and bring you tea while you're sick" friend.

That is how I see B'Elanna's view of Tom after "Blood Fever". I can't imagine a scenario like this that doesn't leave your perceptions of a person fundamentally changed - for the better. Yes, she was embarrassed, and yes it was a violating experience. But honestly, I would have thought that anger would be aimed more at Vorik (even if it wasn't his fault), because he's the one who forced all of this onto B'Elanna in the first place. And from what we know of B'Elanna's struggle with vulnerability, it makes more sense to me that her embarrassment would be aimed inward, because she tried to force herself on Tom and is constantly worried about the "Klingon" aspects of herself being "too much" for other people.

So yes, I stand by my headcanon that B'Elanna does have a "silver lining" takeaway from the whole fiasco - she sees Tom in a drastically different and better light, and appreciates what he did for her (for the latter, she even says as much at the end of the episode).

#Tom Paris #B'Elanna Torres #voy #star trek #blood fever #st: voy #voyager #episode thoughts #I've had multiple people tell me #that it's wrong for me to write B'Elanna #as holding onto the one “good thing” that came from the Blood Fever incident #by which I mean - Tom looking out for her #and I stand by this stance #if Tom can forgive her for literally trying to FORCE HIM into having sex #I think B'Elanna can forgive Tom for being human #and briefly giving into his desire to kiss her #he's not perfect but he STOPPED #and don't even start the “well it's fine because he WANTED it” #because that's some sexist bullshit #he WANTED a consensual relationship with her #he literally refused her advances until sci-fi bullshit #made it a life or death choice #and My Guy that means HE can't consent either #any more than he could if someone held a knife to her throat #and said “I'll kill her if you don't fuck” #so stick that in your pipe and SMOKE IT

[slothsaresleepy]

Hi, @interstellar-muse !

I thought you might enjoy my millennial deck. Here's a five card spread showing your future and major influences. I hope it provides insights into how your love, work, health, and home play into where you're going.

Your Future: King of Thoughts - "Grown-ass Man" (King of Swords)

Love Influences: Page of Feels - "Coming Out" (Page of Cups)

Work/Career Influences: Van Life (The Chariot)

Health Influences: Queen of Feels - "Mother's Intuition" (Queen of Cups)

Home Influences: Knight of Feels - "Ally" (Knight of Cups)

Your future will embrace "Grown-ass Man" energy! This doesn't mean at face value you'll act like a man, but rather find yourself embracing the traits and behaviors that have historically been associated with positive masculinity. Caring for those in need. Respect for others. Advocacy. Strength. Dedication. Your future holds an opportunity to be the strength someone may need to rely on and avoid the toxic traits that need no explanation. Pay attention to opportunities where you can help others - the cards want you to be there for others!

Coming out! There's a message out there. Given where your future is headed, this message may not be about you - but rather something you'll learn or receive about someone close to you. Why? Because your path is leading you to take care of others - to be the rock they need. Learn from this message - the help you provide may also serve as a lesson learned in your own love life to apply.

Your work life will influence your future - there may be a big move for you or someone close to you next year. Remember that regardless of what you do or the field you're in, we're all leaders. Embrace the future you're headed towards and take ownership of any new opportunities that come your way, or potentially you need to be the foundation for someone close to you who'll be experiencing change professionally. Build trust by embracing the "Grown-ass Man" energy! Credibility, reliability, compassion - embrace these values and avoid actions of self-interest.

Everyone needs a mom - whether that person is biological or found family later in life. Pay special attention to your health when pursuing your future next year and ask yourself, "WWMD - What Would Mom Do?" The same way how your path toward "grown-ass man" energy isn't literal, this, too, should be considered. Take care of yourself and don't neglect nurturing yourself next year when your path sets you out to help others.

Lastly, your efforts toward helping others will not be a road traveled alone. You'll find yourself offering inspiration and support to others. You'll encourage others to travel your similar path toward strength, helping, ownership, and caring. Let these people help - they may be friends, family, or strangers who've yet to make an appearance. We can accomplish so much together and you will find yourself gaining many allies so long as you keep on the right path.

Well, I hope you're able to glean some inspiration and connection! You definitely have an energy that tells me you want to grow stronger and help others. I'm rooting for you!

P.S., I included a cat.

#tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotblr #strong future

[therhythmafterthesummer]

*sighs* more Chris and his gf thoughts incoming:

I find it so funny how everyone (including you) (and me ofc) is obsessed with them hehrhdhe I JUST LOVE HIW WHIPPED HE IS

But sometimes my daydreams are softer like: how does he act when she's on her period??? Her comforting him after an exhausting day??? Them softly talking as they cuddle right before sleeping???

I'm obviously feeling very okay and not delulu at all, thank you 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

yes, yes, yes. in this house we love the parents of this pack dsjfshkjfhsjdf

also i love the softer thoughts, too like... yes, they're horny as hell but they're also super loving and caring towards each other so of course these moments are a daily occurrence.

i'll leave my sfw Thoughts™ under the cut.

so, when it comes to her being on her period Chris is in Ready to Help mode all the time.

Cramps? "have a water bottle, baby. i just filled it up", she won't even need to ask, he'll just know she's in pain.

headaches? ready to bring her any medication and if there isn't any in the house he's knocking on every single door at the den until he finds someone that has any, and if that doesn't work then he'll be storming out to buy some.

cuddles? chocolate? ice-cream? doesn't matter, Chris is ready to help.

more often than not, though, when on her period, his girl really just wants to be left alone. she'll probably me super tired so she wants to enjoy some quietness (specially if she's got a headache). so Chris will be ready also to give her space if that's what she needs.

that's a very Logical Chris decision. Inner Wolf Chris is just all pouty and sad because his mate isn't feeling well and he Isn't There, and Logical Chris just has to talk himself down from disrespecting her wishes. "shut the fuck up, dude. giving her space is taking care of her, too. stop whining", he'll tell himself, because he's just fed up with his own inner whining lol

which, the needing space part also translates to her exhausting days. if she comes home super tired from work all she wants is just a warm bath and silence. most of the time, though, she will want Chris there, but she just wants him to be quiet, and he Delivers okay.

he's ready to hold her close, let her lay on his chest, he'll press kisses on the palm of her hand, and/or give her a shoulder massage to ease the tension all in complete silence. she'll honestly melt under his touch, letting him knead the stress out of her body until she's relaxed enough she can talk again.

as for his exhausting days, he's just plain Clingy. he just needs to Hold His Mate Or He'll Pout Like A Sad Puppy.

Chris has two moods for these situations:

he'll either want to have a lengthy spooning session on the sofa, to be the bigger spoon, getting free access to her soft belly and her thighs and he'll just *squish* because keeping his hands busy always helps just as he asks "how was your day, baby?" because honestly he just wants to hear her talk about anything and everything to distract himself from his own annoying thoughts.

and the other possible mood is: Want To Be Held.

which, oddly enough most of the times he doesn't recognise that's what he needs. he won't realise it until his girl pulls him close and starts playing with his hair, offering to run him a warm bath where she'll wash his hair and he'll be a blushing mess the entire time because his inner wolf would freak out a bit by how much he's enjoying it--alpha brain is wired differently after all, so it's kinda hard for him to know when he needs to be taken care of.

but ultimately, all evenings like these they'll end up under the duvet, with his head buried in the crook of her neck, borderline getting drunk on his girl's scent while her fingers massage his scalp while they talk about everything and nothing-- be it a show they're watching together, or the latest silly thing one of the younger packmates pulled, or absolutely whatever comes to mind. and right before he's about to fall asleep, after he's mumbled the quietest 'love you' against the skin of her neck, a gentle rumble will break free in his chest, all while his girl just hugs him tighter, presses a kiss on his forehead, and mumbles a 'love you too' back.

#your brain is so big anon this is so soft and cute siiiigh... #they're so cute #i want what they have honestly #anon #ask #wereroomies ask #wereroomies headcanons

[genshingarbage]

hi i was wondering if you could do the comforting a depressed s/o for thoma and ayato mayhaps?

Ofc lovely! I hope the boys efforts make you feel better even if only a little! - Mod Diluc

Ayato & Thoma Comforting Depressed S/O

||Head cannons||

Ayato

Mmh, bothersome indeed.

Not because you are a bother mind you, more so because he cannot figure the best remedy to make you feel better.

Doesn't mean he will not try though.

"My dear Y/N, Would you like to go for a stroll in Chinju Forest?"

"Here dear, have this- what is it? My boba tea- hm? No I do not mind giving it to you, why did that even cross your mind?"

He will make it habit to bring home small things as hopeful brightening gestures just to see your smile; Dango Milk, A plushie from one of the tourist souvenir shops, maybe he'll even brave face at Yoimiya's firework shop just to get his hands on some of those special dazzling ones that erupt into hearts; he could've swore he remembered hearing you say they're your favourite.

Suddenly you'll find him working at the estate more than normal, wonder why that could be; definitely not so he can keep tabs on you closer and encourage you to keep him company.

He won't mind your idle chatter and jump at unloading your stressed thoughts onto him while he works; a distraction he values to much higher regard than the boredom of his own work.

Vent away reader, hearing your struggles and offering advice or simple silence and playing the doting role of a shoulder to cry on is fine to this young Lord.

If it means helping you smile and sigh a relief then it is all surely worth it.

You do mean so much to him, he hopes you're aware of this.

How easy it is for you to lose yourself in your own self sorrow, letting the facts fly by in a gloomed daze.

But he will remind you, always.

His jokes, albeit sometimes far fetched and rather... highbrow manage to get at least a little huff and smile from you, and that is great! It means it isn't all doom and gloom for his beloved.

He knows mora doesn't fix everything, but he'll be damned if he doesn't exploit his abundance of it to take you to fancy restaurants and in his spare days off; vacations to settlements all around Inazuma, hell- he'll even take you abroad to other nations!

Warming and love filled kisses to the lips, stolen at the most abrupt of times, stealing your breath away mind you.

Gentle cuddles and soft caresses whenever you sit together, lie together too.

What would be better? Is it emotional support that will help? Or would physical affection yield better results, infuriating for him to not know which way is most effective for the love of his love; ah well, he'll just do every darn thing under the sun that let's you see he is deeply and forever in love with you, no matter how sad you become or depressed you feel, he will be there to keep you company through it all and cut through it like he does with so many of his enemies.

After all there is no bigger enemy to him than that of a plague that harms his sweet dear beloved, you reader.

Thoma

"Wanna grab a bite to eat?- Oh! or I could cook for you! What?- waste of time? Nonsense Y/N! Sit down and let me get prepared, tell me, what do you desire; I'll do my best to make it perfect just for you."

No, why are you depressed reader-chan? he hates seeing you so down in the dumps like this.

Stupid depression, he can't kick that away with force as much as he would love too.

He will constantly shower you with kisses, praise and cuddles, anything to put that smile back on your beautiful face.

He will let you do as you please too, twiddle with his dog tag? Play with his head piece for all he cares, he knows how much you love his attire and take joy in sticking close by.

It becomes a rather difficult task when he needs to finish his chores for the Kamisato twins at the estate, but to hell with it, sharing jokes with you, tickling you with the duster mid clean session; "Stop? Why would I do that when I get to keep hearing your cute giggles Y/N? Come here!"

He may even get in trouble a few times, being distracted by you, but there is no better distraction than you, so it's a price he'll gladly pay. At least you laugh again in those times.

He will pop out in any free times he gets to grab some of your favourite snacks, maybe a new blanket for you to cuddle at night with him?

He is nothing but a hopeless romantic, so you can sure bet that he will drag you out even if you refuse at first, to take you to beautiful places you hadn't even realised existed, just to show you the beautiful landscapes and dazzling night sky painted with stars.

Except some cheesy one liners too; "Beautiful isn't it? But not as much as you Y/N."

"I will never get tired of seeing that smile Y/N."

He will remind you all the time of how beautiful you are, and funny too, how much he couldn't ever live without you, how lucky he is to have you be his, how proud he is to know he is yours too.

Depressed or not, he loves you, oh so so so much, and even if he had to remind you every single day that you are perfect and he couldn't prey for a better partner that wouldn't change a single thing.

Because he thought he would never find a family again once he was left adrift at sea that faithful day, but it was you who anchored him back to something warm, something he thought he wouldn't have again, love and companionship.

So he will sooner rather die than not return those feelings tenfold, now, and forever.

#genshin blog #genshinimpact #genshin #genshin fanfic blog #genshin thoma #ayato genshin impact #kamisato ayato #genshin headcanons #deperesion #sad thoughts #comfort headcannons #ayato headcanons #thoma headcanons #so sweet

[findingtarshish]

I got tagged by @kk7-rbs and @multi-lefaiye whom I tagged the first time around so its time for you all to see my round 2 Tav! (This time with extensive blorbo photography- she is absolutely adorable when she's not actively slaughtering her enemies. You must perceive her.)

No specific tags this time but anyone who wants to do this, pls consider yourself tagged and feel free to tag me so I can see your oc!

Name: Amelice Hunzrin

Nickname(s): Occasionally she goes by Ame, though she forced Dhourn to call her 'Lady Hunzrin'. Astarion calls her a variety of terms of endearment, 'my love', 'darling', etc, and she's given up trying to get him to stop. If you call her 'Eight-legs', you'd best roll initiative immediately.

Pronouns: She/her

Star sign: No clue I don't astrology sorry ;-;

Height: 5'8" (Formerly 7'6")

Orientation: Bisexual, with a noted preference for men.

Race: Lolth-Sworn Drow (Formerly Drider)

Romancing: Astarion. She and Shadowheart were very close, and she offered to date both of them, but Shadowheart chose to defer to Astarion after he confessed to Amelice. Amelice is a terrible person and enables all of Astarion's crimes, so they basically just go back and forth causing problems. But, on a more serious note, Amelice and Astarion understand each other on a level no one else does. They both know what it's like to be turned into a monster, to crave the lifeblood of others, and to be given a second chance- and they both aim to use that second chance for vengeance.

Favorite fruit: Amelice always had a soft spot for raspberries. Though, since they had to be imported from the surface, they were one of the few food items she couldn't indulge in regularly.

Favorite season: Seasons don't hold especial weight in the underdark, and since Amelice is only now exploring the surface, they're a novel thing for her. She's enjoying the summer, though.

Favorite flower: Roses! She's a bard, so of course she gravitates toward the romantic flowers.

Favorite scent: She would never admit it, but she loves the smell of farmland. The breeze over crops, the odor of animals, the misty clarity of irrigation water- it feels like the home she lost sixty years ago. It's an odd thing for a highborn noble to love, but she couldn't help but smile, standing in the wheat fields in Rivington. Astarion sometime teases her that for all her imperiousness, she's a farm girl at heart.

Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: She's largely indifferent to coffee and tea, but she enjoys the decadence of hot chocolate.

Average sleep hours: Amelice suffers from horrific nightmares of her time as a drider that disrupt her sleep, so she always trances. Four hours out, over and done, then off to prepare breakfast before Gale can get his hands on the cook pot.

Dogs or cats: Rothé. She doesn't care for surface pets (though she has grown fond of Scratch) but livestock will always have a special place in her heart. Back in Menzoberranzan, she had a talent for calming them, which earned her an excellent reputation among the herders of Lake Donigarten.

Dream trip: Home. Amelice was banished from Menzoberranzan as a drider, and lived as a wanderer for nearly sixty years. She just wants to go home, stand among the bustling streets of Eastmyr, to look out over the mirrored black waters of Lake Donigarten, to once again fill her family's halls with music. She prays that once she has destroyed the Absolute and sent it to oblivion with naught but a prayer to Lolth to accompany it, she might once again be allowed to return.

Amount of blankets: Ame prefers to trance, so a blanket isn't really necessary for her. When she does sleep, though (if she's badly wounded, especially exhausted, or sick) she wants all the blankets. She needs a cozy cocoon to keep the nightmares away.

Random fact(s):

Ame possesses a spent and dormant Ring of Three Wishes, which she found on the body of a dead adventurer while wandering the Underdark as a drider. It only had one gemstone left, which she spent to reverse her transformation. She wears it on a chain around her neck, believing it to be a gift from Lolth- only a Wish can reverse a Drider's transformation, and it seemed too much of a coincidence for her to find exactly what she needed.

Amelice's oath is of Vengeance, specifically against her brother, who tampered with the priestess's mind during the Test of Lolth to to have the loyal and devout Amelice declared a treasonous heretic. He is directly responsible for the 60 years of torment she went through; worse, tampering with a priestess's mind is a serious offense against Lolth- in the Spider Queen's name, she intends to take his head.

Ame is deathly afraid of anyone delving into her mind as a result of the traumatic experience of her Test, and resists any such attempt, by violence if possible. It has left her with a... complicated relationship with the Emperor.

The greatest mistakes you can make around Ame is 1) disrespecting her and 2) standing alone in a place where, hypothetically, if you died, no one would notice. RIP 90% of Moonrise Towers, you should have watched each other's backs better.

Ame keeps the Cruel Sting with her, and Astarion frequently finds her holding it and just... staring at it, wondering if she would have ended up like Kar'niss if she hadn't found that ring.

She gets along extremely well with everyone in the Brainworm Squad (I think Wyll has the lowest approval at Very High) except Minthara, whom she hates. She is seriously considering murdering her for her apostasy- Minthara prayed to Lolth for protection, and Lolth delivered by guiding Ame to her; but when Minthara was safe, she began defaming and decrying the Spider Queen.

Ame and Gale fight over who gets to cook every single night. Lae'zel is deeply tired of it, while Astarion thinks it's hilarious. Ame has a lot of ego tied up in this, as a lady of House Hunzrin- they're supposed to be the epitome of hospitality and culinary excess!

Ame's dye color of choice is Jet and Pink Rose.

She has 30 AC.

#Amelice Hunzrin #bg3 #tav #bg3 tav #tag game #tav game? #BardCrimes

[rosetintedgunman]

February 14th

It was a very busy evening at the Moonlight Roller. Many couples had decided to choose the venue as their date night. And why wouldn't they? Those who favoured the cheesy holiday would be rewarded with bright, heart-shaped decorations, special deals that were literally too good to be true, and plenty of activities to encourage a good night out.

Except... Wilford wasn't anywhere to be found.

That was rather unusual. After all, wasn't this a holiday that was made just for him? It seemed someone else had drawn this conclusion - the person whose home he had crashed.

Dante was not one to observe Valentine's Day, but it was one of the rare times he allowed himself to indulge in a simple pleasure from his human life and read a romance novel on the couch. Wilford was on the floor, one hand holding a joke book in the air as he debated on whether he wanted to read it.

It was... surprisingly peaceful, taking the reporter's eccentricity into account. In fact, it took some time before Dante realised something rather important:

It was a good question, and one that Wilford didn't immediately answer. Instead, he placed the book on his lap and slumped against the piece of furniture.

"I don't think I'm th' expert of love I always claim ta be." Wilford leaned his head back until it lightly pressed against the arm of the couch. "I mean... I know I cared fer Celine an' all, but that love was fake since she didn't love me back. I was just an escape."

-

Dante hummed, closing his book to give his friend attention. "This isn't like you. Normally you'd redirect your attention to your love of your friends."

"True, but I can't really have friends hangin' in a date night zone tonight, can I?"

"I doubt it would be a helpful night to find someone single."

"Nah. With how things have been fer me, it's th' best time ta find that lover, or somethin'. My days are in order, I've barely fallen into other times, an' I'm on a good no-kill streak. I'm practically safe as a baby! But...." The humour in his voice disappeared, leaving a sense of deflation behind. "It's almost as though me bein' like this makes me feel like I gotta keep an eye out an' protect th' chickies."

"The... 'chickies'?"

"Yeah! All th' younger folks goin' through th' loops!"

"I don't think you need to worry about 'age difference' between us and adults of consenting age when those of our fate are unable to feel the progression of time in the same way."

Wilford put his book down so he could roll sideways until he was kneeling against the side of the couch. "What if they think I'm old an' not hot?"

The entity quirked an eyebrow. "You sound ridiculous right now."

"What if I'm losin' my hotness radar an' I can't find anyone of my type 'cause I dunno what that is anymore??" Truly, what a rotten fate!!

Unfortunately, Dante was not the person to lament to. "You act like I know the answer to your problems."

"Yeah. Yer smart."

"But about a matter such as love? I grew up in a loveless family and died a bachelor. I'm not a fountain of knowledge."

Wilford slumped forward until his chin bumped against the couch. "Yeah, I 'spose... I'll get all that figured out in time." That appeared to be the end of it, as his eyes half-focused on one of the back cushions. "Ya think I ever found love in between then and now?"

Dante didn't know the answer. However, he had to give some sort of response.

"Romantically? I think you did. I'm sure you'll remember something about it that will help you remember your 'date skills'."

Wilford chuckled, moving his gaze to Dante. "Yer a good friend, y'know that? I'm gonna help ya find a date. Least I can do." Wilford's offer did not go down well.

"I can barely tolerate myself most days. I won't subject anyone else to do likewise."

#(muse update) #(featuring Dante: a voice of reason) #(this isn’t implying anything between these two btw. They're bros through and through) #intern doodles (mun art) #on the tablet #(disclaimer: this is the default setting; not taking ships on hiatus into account) #(I simply think it's weird that for a man who is so full of love... he hasn't seen anyone that's caught his eye in a long time)