the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 

𖥾 ゚ ࣭ with. — SIMON “GHOST” RILEY | female reader, no warnings | word count : 400 words | masterlist

“what are you doin’ with that?”

“calm down, simon. stop moving so much,” you tighten your grip around his arm, but simon knows better than to listen to you.

“stay still, goddammit! i’m trying to… look.”

you put the cheap marker in your mouth and take off the cap with your teeth quickly. “i’m coloring your tattoos. you should thank me,” the marker tingles his skin, but he doesn’t really react, he doesn’t look away from you, and surely not away your face.

gojo satoru knows loneliness all too well.

he liked to think he didn't need anyone, but only because in his years of existence, no one has shown him what it was like to be treated as gojo satoru; not the six eyes, not the strongest, just him as who he is—a boy who was forced to bear the weight of the world just because of an organ of sight he never asked for, a boy who was never given a chance at normal childhood, just gojo satoru.

well, except for one person, but he’s long been gone.

for two decades, gojo was used to being with no one. waking up alone, eating alone, going to work alone, exorcising curses alone, sleeping alone; he basically functions without another human being by his side.

sometimes, days would even pass without him talking to any humans, except probably for phone calls assigning him missions, or phone calls informing him that some other sorcerer died. again.

so why is he having such a hard time right now? why can't he sleep as well as he did before? why does it feel like he's missing something? someone?

he's never wanted to come home so much in his life. he's never wanted to get an overseas mission done so fast and he most especially never wanted to feel the warmth of another person in his whole life.

man, he sighs, since when did i become such a sap?

he couldn't even sleep properly. 

the 5-star hotel bed he so badly enjoyed in his earlier years now felt too big, too cold, too empty, too lonely. he doesn't know how many hours he's been tossing, turning, and counting curses in his head because he just can't sleep.

he didn't really sleep too long, normally it was just 3 to 4 hours, and he's fine with that. he was used to that. 

until you started living with him.

the house he bought for himself became a home the two of you shared, the living room that used to be so empty and so unused became your cuddling area filled with both of your laughters, the kitchen he barely used became the first destination he always, always goes to whenever he wakes up without you, the bathroom that used to contain only his toiletries slowly but surely became filled with your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, until it eventually contained every personal care you had.

and his bedroom. his oh so lovely bedroom that he barely set foot in became his most favorite space in the whole apartment.

he didn't know it was possible to feel so much love for another person. but staying in bed on sunday mornings and watching you with your eyes closed, breaths even, and so peacefully asleep really changed his perspective. he just wants to smother you with kisses until you wake up and shower you with affection until a whole day has passed and you fall back asleep. right in his arms, right beside him, safe and sound and warm.

he doesn’t know when it started, but he started sleeping longer, better, deeper. he didn’t have nightmares as much as before, but when he does, you were always there to wake him up, to cage him in your arms, and to calm him until he goes back into slumber.

before, his nightmares would always come every night without fail and he’d wake up panting and drenched with his own sweat. he would never go back to sleep in fear of said nightmares resuming, so he’d get up and get ready for his day of exorcising curses or cleaning up other sorcerers’ mess.

he didn’t want to be so vulnerable around you. yet you had assured him so many times that just like you, he’s a human being with human emotions and human thoughts. no matter how much he tries to refuse it.

when he finally came home, the sun had long shrunk past the horizon and the tokyo lights had long been illuminating the surroundings. just like a routine—and he particularly hates routines, but he doesn’t mind this one—he went straight to the bedroom after placing his boots neatly (like you always say) on the genkan.

then he finally saw you.

you're sleeping normally just as you always do, but his heart never fails to melt upon seeing you in his no-longer-empty bed, wearing his shirt that's way too big for you, facing his side of bed and clutching on the sheets where he always lies.

he slowly and quietly slips into the bed, careful not to wake your peaceful slumber and steady breathing. he pulls the duvet up to your shoulder and kisses your forehead, holding you close until there's no physical distance left as he whispers i'm home.

he feels you weakly wiggle under his touch, moaning softly as he feels your lips on his neck, sleepily mumbling i missed you, 'toru. welcome home before getting pulled back into your sleep.

he nuzzles his face on your head and pulls you impossibly closer as he finally joins you into dreamland, a soft smile adorned on his face.

that night, gojo satoru slept like he's never slept before. no loneliness, no nightmares, no bad thoughts—just you being in his arms, soft and warm under his touch. just you, who sees him as who he is.

Ps. I wanted to write how gojo sleeps better with reader but it kinda turned out differently than i thought lmao

Obey Me!: MC pushes themselves too hard

Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Belphegor and Diavolo when mc overworks themselves to make them proud.

𖤐Lucifer

Babies don’t forget there’s an Etsy boycott from April 11-18 to protest the higher service fees recently instated for shop owners despite the fact that the company reported record profits last year. Etsy is usually one of my go-tos but I am absolutely going to stay off for the week. Without its vendors (many of whom are independent artists/creators) Etsy is literally nothing, and if these new policies are undermining their ability to stay on the site without risking their financial stability then they 100% deserve our support. No Etsy this week!!!

[ 𝟑:𝟐𝟕 𝐀𝐌 ] 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔.

geto supposes this is a bit odd—he doesn’t usually race to apartments and knock on doors incessantly at three am, he doesn’t usually show up in a wrinkled t-shirt and mismatched socks, and he doesn’t usually have his hair in a low bun that’s threatening to fall out any second.

but then again, he’s not usually staying up late at night and thinking about how the dude you called cute in your philosophy class is planning to ask you out tomorrow.

“suguru, what are you—”

“i love you,” he interrupts, a rushed and panted out statement, making your eyes widen. you stare at him, blinking as the light from the hallway stings your sleep hazed eyes.

“what are you—”

“i really fucking love you, and i think you should date me.”

and he does. geto suguru has been in love with you since the day you move next door to his childhood home. he’s been in love with you since the day you step foot on his lawn and tell him he needs a haircut. he’s been in love with you since the moment you worm your way into his life and bring your unwarranted opinions and know-it-all attitude, and he thinks that he’s the only one who deserves to love you at all.

the guy from philosophy (whatever his name is) doesn’t deserve your playful banter and witty remarks. he doesn’t deserve your random fun facts and ceaseless rambles. he doesn’t deserve your late night texts and whispered facetimes, and he doesn’t deserve you. not like geto does, at least, and geto suguru is not letting a mere schoolgirl crush come in the way of his carefully nurtured love.

“suguru, it’s three am,” you say in disbelief, rubbing the sleep from out of your eyes as you decide to acknowledge his (rather bold) statement after your brain starts functioning.

“that’s okay. i still love you at three am,” he shrugs, pouting to himself. he eyes your appearance, tries not to stare too hard at the way your shirt is a little low at the neckline, tries to avoid glancing at the plumpness of your lips for too long as you process his words with a soft frown.

“oh, really? you should know i’m rather grouchy when i’m sleepy,” you warn him, and then he cracks a smile—because that’s all he needs to hear to know you feel the same.

After the dance battle

— drunk in love cw alcohol

“kiss?”

you can still feel how lucifer’s lips had curved into a smile as you pull away and something that could only be described as a giggle escaped the great demon as he stared at you, starry eyed.

you’d watched all evening as diavolo had constantly topped up lucifer’s glass until one bottle of demonus had turned into two had turned into three. perhaps you should’ve said something, the prince obviously knowing just what he was doing as he sent a sly wink in response to your raised brow. but the way lucifer’s expression loosened into a dopey smile and the red flush had crept up his neck to settle on his cheeks was just so…cute.

intoxicated lucifer was a rare sight to see, endearing and gentle and soft, happily seeking every inch of fondness you’d give him. and when he let his walls down, let his strict rules go and allowed nothing but you to fill his brain, you couldn’t help from giving in to his demands of affection, pressing kiss after kiss to the lips he had jutted out into a pout.

“one more?” the avatar of pride beams, request spilling from his slack tongue as it had done so many times before that night, never quite content at the feeling of your lips leaving his.

your fingers brush through the demon’s mussed hair in return before dropping down to trace his cheek, tender smile on both your faces as he eagerly leans into your touch. lucifer was determined to stay drunk off your love.

ADORATION: 1 : deep love and respect 2 : fervent and devoted love.

or, in other words, JJK BOYS AND THEIR GESTURES OF LOVE

fushiguro megumi looks up that one book you were talking about, reads it thoroughly and annotates it with little hearts (that you’d have to squint to see) at the bottom of the first page. leaves it at your door with a loving note of, ‘it was a good read. - megumi’

itadori yuuji takes candid pictures of you every time he cracks a joke. when you ask him about it, he just tells you he thinks you look the prettiest when you’re smiling.

inumaki toge learned how to make a flower crown before your picnic date so he could place it on your head. gives your cheek a quick pinch before blushing at you.

okkotsu yuuta hugs you with a hand over your head all the time. he’s gotten into the habit of having one draped around your waist while drawing sloppy hearts and the other securing your head against your chest, close enough to where you can hear the rapid beating of his heart.

satoru gojo teases you relentlessly. you could casually be making tea and he’ll come up behind you to poke at your arm just to get your attention. although you have to admit, the smirk that follows when he knows he’s got you where he wants you does send a little flutter to your heart.

suguru geto bends down to your level when he sees you spending another night without a wink of sleep. blows on your face gently to get your attention before bringing a hand up between the space of your brows to get you to relax. he smiles softly when he sees you visibly lighten up with a smile that mimics his.

nanami kento plants a kiss on your nose when he sees you all tucked in to bed. cherishes the way you scrunch your nose in response as he hurries to shower before joining you in the comfort of your warmth.

JJK || reactions to you calling them a “pretty boy”

Yuuji : his eyes soften for a moment, he’s just in pure awe before a smile as bright as the sun stretches across his cheeks as he cups your face to bring it closer and pepper it with kisses while laughing.

Megumi : his brows furrow in consideration as if he doesn’t quite understand if he likes it or not. But then you’re saying it again with a huge grin and he has to bury his face in his jacket to hide the blush. Your laughter would simply cause him to flick your forehead, muttering a light “idiot” even as he pulls you closer into him, nose nuzzling the top of your head.

Gojo : raises a brow, saying “can’t argue with that” with the biggest smirk plastered on his face. Dramatically gasps and falls on top of you when you lightly smack his chest. Goes ahead to catch your lips in for a kiss, before pulling away, saying “You should make that- the prettiest AND strongest boy.”

Nanami : slightly tilts his head, heaving out a sigh even as a lazy smile finds it’s way up his cheeks. “Am I now?” He’ll ask, a playful tone underneath his words as you giddily nod your head. “You’re lucky you’re so endearing-” You’ll find yourself squeaking as his hands find their way under your shirt, fingers moving to tickle your sides, “...my pretty girl.”

Choso: “oh?” As soon as the words are past your lips, it doesn’t matter where you are, he’ll be wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you into him as he presses a kiss onto your forehead. “I think you’re really pretty too🥺🥺”

Toji: you’ve said the words while your fingers trace his lips, ghosting over the scar and he stiffens a little. He can smell the alcohol off your breath as he carries you, and you say it again, moving forward to press a kiss against the mark with a small giggle. Toji’s scowling makes you laugh even harder, and even as he sets you down on the bed, mumbling “stupid girl”, he can’t help but press a chaste kiss in return to the smaller hand that’s entangled in his.

Sukuna: (bestie why would you say that to this man- wow you’re really that much of a masochist?). I’ll emphasise- he’ll make sure you know that he’s a powerful curse and not just a “pretty boy” by the time you’re done recovering writhing and crying from both pleasure and pain in bed 😀😀

Naoya: “I am not a boy. I am a man, and therefore your duty is to serve me. Now go make me a sandwich.” 😐😐

jujutsu kaisen and forms of affection.

yuuji cheek kisses as a greeting. swinging your held hands in between you while you walk. shares his food with you. hugs where his head is on your shoulder. grins while blushing when ever you make direct eye contact.

megumi forehead kisses. very attentive listener and it shows. takes your hand in his when ever he feels like you're feeling down. knows your favorite orders at restaurants and cafes by heart. pays for your food if you eat together somewhere.

nobara subconsciously placing a hand on your waist or thigh. leans in to listen to you when you talk. squeezes your hand in reassurance whenever you're stressed. gives you advice and offers to beat someone up for you if she feels as if you're sad.

gojo brushes your hair out of your face for you and softly smiles while doing so. a hand around your shoulder or waist when you're out together. unconsciously fiddles with your hair when he's sitting next to you.

haikyuu boys + where they let you sleep on

— HIS SHOULDER, on train rides going home from uni. it calms him as much as it calms you. on slow days, he glances at your sleeping face, focusing on loose strands that fall over your nose and instinct takes over as his fingers move to tuck them behind your ear. his eyes widen at his own gesture, but they gingerly soften as he sits back and relaxes, faint smile gracing his lips as he lolls his head above yours, relishing your proximity in silence.

— HIS LAP, as you chill with him in the park, resting on a bench or a neatly laid picnic mat. the two of you watch the clouds idly as you talk about the most mundane stuff, your day and his, and sometimes discussions get a little too philosophical but that only makes you fall more deeply in love with his mind. doubly so when he caresses your hair as he drones, and all that's in your head as your consciousness drifts away to the sound of his voice is gods, what had i done in my previous life to have this man around?

— HIS CHEST, while huddled on the couch, your hand pressed lightly on the plane of his stomach, cheeks pink as his even heartbeat lulls you to sleep. air ghosts the top of your crown as he takes in your peaceful and placid form, admiring how beautiful you are, smiling despite exhaustion, never mind that you left his question about the movie you're both watching unanswered. he runs a gentle hand and plants a featherlight kiss on your hair before his arm falls to your shoulder, pulling you close as he joins you in dreamland.

— THE LENGTH OF HIS BODY, because the entirety of you draped over him is the best recharge after part-time jobs and bone-breaking trainings. your warmth bleeds through your pjs down his skin and nerve ends, replenishing spent energies, both of you like plants being watered back to life. it's hard to disentangle from him once you're in, what with the strong arms that keep you at bay, the lean pecs which you find yourself feeling every so often. you don't mind, really, being held like this. he doubles as your pillow and your stuffed toy, and you'll choose him over your bed every single time.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE put a readmore under your fics, especially if they’re long as fuck

— say you’ll stay (never be severed) when they have a nightmare you die ; title creds

lucifer knows it was just a dream. he knows it wasn’t real, assures himself it wasn’t and yet he allows his heart - still thundering in his chest - to guide his sharp strides and pound on your door. the sight of you, worry for him clear though sleepy and bleary eyed, is enough for lucifer’s knees to melt and he falls forward to embrace you, relieved sigh shuddering through the air next to your ear. it feels natural when your arms circle his torso, tight hold allowing him to sink further and push back the tears that welled in his eyes. for once, lucifer’s head isn’t in charge and he relishes in your touch as his heartbeat begins to slow until it thumps a steady rhythm of i love you, i love you. unknowingly, the words fall from his lips too, escaping from deep within. and it’s the certainty in your voice as you return the confession that finally convinces lucifer he had experienced nothing more than a bad dream.

mammon doesn’t wait, can’t wait. he scrambles to your room, familiar route suddenly lasting an eternity. his feet slap panickedly against the floor as he barges in with such urgency that the door swings open with a bang. the slam is loud enough to scare you awake, half jumping out of your skin. but you don’t have a moment spare to take in what’s happening before mammon wraps himself around you, head tucked into the crook of your neck as he gasps and chants, “you’re ok, you’re ok.” you bring your own arms up to envelope him, knowing not of his nightmare but of just how bravely he protects his family, from the fall to now. it’d be foolish to think he’s the second eldest for nothing. but right now, mammon trembles under your touch, one hand rubbing across his broad shoulders and the other finding its place in the foam of his hair. “i’m ok,” you whisper in return as the first tears hit your collarbone and seep into your skin, “and you are too. i’ve got you, mammon.”

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❪ 💌 ❫ WHEN AN INTERVIEWER INSULTS YOU

Sakusa smiled stiffly behind his mask as thousands of cameras flashed in his face. 

His passion for volleyball struggled to remain intact at this moment as the news reporters fired off questions after questions, aggravating his already blinding headache, courtesy of his boisterous teammates and an agonizingly long and difficult match against the Adlers.  

YOU CATCH SOMEONE STARE AT THEM!

✩ atsumu jogs up to you, a soft smile on his face as his bag swung in his hand. “sorry a took so long, bokuto lost his deodorant in the locker room” he apologizes, his free hand rubbing the nape of his neck. “don’t worry, i didn’t wait too long,” you smile before furrowing your eyebrows slightly, feeling multiple pairs of eyes bore into your back. you shift your body around, making eye contact with a glaring fan girl of atsumu’s. “ignore ‘em, angel” atsumu mumbles into your ear, pulling you close to him as he makes his way through the crowd that was getting bigger by the moment. you felt a shiver go down your spine as more stares and glares burnt into your skin when atsumu had stopped, being face to face with multiple reporters. atsumu lets out a scoff, eyeing every reporter before standing up straight. “atsumu miya, how does it feel to win? who is this person beside you?” one of the reporters asked as girls yelled that you didn’t deserve the male. atsumu poked the inside of his cheek, glaring where the girls were yelling. the faux male turned you and him to every camera that was pointed at you both, a scheming smile appearing on his face before he pressed his lips against yours. gasps and camera shutters started to fade out as the both of you kissed, tuning out the yells of his fangirls. eventually pulling away, atsumu grins and wraps his arm around your waist, looking at everyone that surrounds you both. “this is my significant other and we’re happily engaged,” he announces, pressing a kiss against your cheek and beginning to walk with you to the exit doors while everyone starts to trail behind while blurting out millions of questions.

when they get into a fight

DILUC

Diluc had his back facing towards the tavern door when he heard it open.

“Hey, what can I get y-”

“You got into a fight with someone?!” he hears an all too familiar voice. But instead of the usual loving tone you had, your voice was a mixture of disbelief and panic. Diluc turns around, only to find you already behind the bar to inspect his exposed skin for any visible injuries. But you couldn’t find any, as indicated by the confused look you wore on your face.

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