Gojo Calls You Every Name But Your Actual Name—sweetheart, Baby, Pookie Bear, Sometimes Even "oi, Babe"—but

"𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂?!" w/jjk men !!

Gojo, Geto, Yuji, Megumi and Choso! TW: implied fem reader on megumi's, reader has pink bows!! "Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Gojo Satoru wants nothing more than to yap with you over a box of kikufuku mochi. The way you let him talk your ears off and still agree with him makes him feel like the only man in the world, and he loves you for that. "Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Geto Suguru wants nothing more than to cuddle with you and sleep after a long, exhausting day of exorcising curses. He wants nothing more than to kiss your perfect face right before you drift off to your slumber.

"Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Yuji Itadori wants nothing more than to watch movies with you. Front row or not, at the theater or at home, your favorite movie or his, it doesn't matter. For him, any movie is a 10/10 if you're watching it with him.

"Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Megumi Fushiguro wants nothing more than for you to run your fingers through his hair and play with it. He pretends he doesn't like it when you clip his hair with one of your pink bows, but you can see him blushing. "Men only want one thing, and it's disgusting," which isn't true at all because Choso Kamo wants nothing more than for you to sit on his lap and trace the marking on his nose bridge. No, it doesn't turn him on; it just makes him feel childishly and sweetly giddy, and he can't help but smile.

Something comfy for today

You find out early on in your relationship with Kuroo that sharing a bed with him can be stressful. When he strutted into the bathroom only wearing a pair of boxers that left little to the imagination, you were already overcome by nerves. You two hadn't had sex yet, and you were still flustered over the fact that this fine ass man was all yours. Of course Kuroo being the cocky guy he is ended up teasing you for staring, causing you to turn over to hide your blushed face. He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and you get even more flustered. After you get used to the feeling of him nuzzled behind you, you start to fall asleep. You are rudely interrupted by one of the loudest snores you ever heard. You honestly think that he might be doing it on purpose to get you to finally pay attention to him again, but when you glance over your shoulder you can clearly see that he is fast asleep. You turn your head back over and try to bury your head into the pillows to muffle the noise, but you can still hear him somehow. After a few minutes it starts to die down a little, and you gladly fall back asleep. When you wake up to Kuroo's head still nestled into your neck, and his arms wrapped around your waist you feel like it definitely makes up for the snoring.( but you wouldn't be opposed to getting him breathing strips )

BatEddie!!

“Babe, have you - oh no.”

Your boyfriend Daichi stopped in his tracks when he saw you sobbing into a tissue on the couch, wrapped practically airtight in a thick fluffy blanket with only the cable from your heating pad sticking out.

On the TV a chubby seal pup was calling its mother that apparently fell prey to an orca just a few seconds earlier.

He sighed and came to stand in front of you, hands on his hips to block the screen.

“What did we say?”

You shrunk into your blanket, looking up at him with big tear-filled eyes.

“No nature documentaries when I’m on my period?”

“Then why are you doing this to yourself? This is gonna be the seahorse thing from last month all over again.”

At the mention of your previous trauma, a new wave of tears rolled down your cheeks.

“It got carried too far in the current! It was all alone!”

“And what did you make me do?”

“Hold my hand in the supermarket so you wouldn’t lose me?”

“And why was that not a good idea?”

You took a deep breath and tried to recount the gentle scolding you received afterward, “Because to safely push a cart you need two hands.”

“And?”

“And I made you swerve into a display of tomato sauce.”

“So in conclusion?”, he raised an expectant brow.

You picked up the remote and turned on a different movie.

“Thank you.”, he said and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, “I ordered take-out for dinner. Now, move over.”

You scooted a bit to the left so he could sit down next to you and pull you into his arms for comfort, large warm hand slipping into the blanket cocoon gently rubbing your soft aching tummy.

a/n: this might be the silliest one yet

Thinking about going to a carnival with Eddie.

His hand holding yours, fingers laced together as you walk around playing all of the games. He’s persistent in winning you at least one giant stuffed animal, the smile on his face when he wins a giant husky is contagious.

You have a tight hold on his hand and an arm wrapped around your prize while walking around, eating all of the foods. Fingers coated in powdered sugar from the funnel cake.

The night ends with you riding the Ferris Wheel, watching the fireworks flash across the night sky as you feed each other pieces of blue cotton candy. He nips your fingertips playfully with a look of pure love in his eyes.

SIGH

another eddie thought.

eddie munson who had to have his head shaved bc his curls were matted so bad when he was younger. as soon as he got taken in to wayne’s care, after spending nearly a year with his dad, his hair was beyond gone. barely brushed, just neglected.

wayne, bless his heart, tried to detangle it. he knew how eddie liked his long hair, he didn’t want to shave it. he even took him to the beauty salon, the beauty school up the road, tried to get them to detangle it. two deep conditions and an hour later, the instructor told him the best they could do was shave it, send him with some product on how to care for it in the future.

eddie was devastated, wayne was guilt ridden, and eddie’s locks were now shaven off right before he had to start at the middle school.

from that point on, eddie was nearly neurotic about brushing his hair every night. getting every single tangle out. ripping through the curls until it’s smooth. frizzy and slightly damaged from the tension, sure, but smooth.

at first, it’s something you try to talk him out of. “you’re ripping your hair out.”

“it’s fine.” eddie grunts, paddle brush tearing through the base of his neck, the most matted and tough curls. “rather lose a little than have to shave it all off again.”

he tells you the story, once, after that. one that leaves your heart aching, despite how he tries to shrug it off. insist it’s not a big deal, that it didn’t bother him- how his father’s neglect hurt him yet again, even after he was taken in with wayne. you know better.

you don’t try to fight him on it anymore. instead, every night, it becomes a ritual that you brush his hair for him. a far gentler touch, more patience to work out each curl and tangled strand. grasping at the base of his head to keep it from tugging and hurting so much.

it’s soft and intimate. leaves eddie’s chest with a warm, gooey thick feeling, and his eyelids fluttering with sleep. trying to keep his head up while you brush his hair, scratching at the scalp, always pressing a kiss to his part when you’re finished.

my 'stop drawing eddie like he just stepped out of a hair commercial' challenge (failing)

HIII can i request something abour Aone and Kunimi! Id love to see how you woukd write about them!

Oooh I can definitely do that heheh Thank you for your ask!! --

Aone was used to people avoiding him.

It wasn’t personal—at least, he didn’t think it was. He knew what he looked like. Tall, broad-shouldered, his expression unreadable even when he tried to seem approachable. And, of course, there was the fact that he had no eyebrows, which only seemed to add to the whole 'intimidating presence' thing. He had overheard people whispering about it before, speculating whether he was just naturally that way or if something had happened. He never corrected them. It wasn’t worth the effort.

He didn’t mind it, not really. It wasn’t like he needed constant conversation. If anything, he preferred the quiet. But that didn’t stop the occasional pang of irritation when someone flinched at his presence or whispered about how scary he was. He never let it bother him for long. It wasn’t worth dwelling on.

But then there was you, who never seemed to get the memo.

You greeted him every morning with a bright “Good morning, Aone!” as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You sat next to him during team lunches, never asking if it was okay, never making a big deal out of it—just plopping down beside him, completely unfazed. When the team joked and teased each other, you always made a point to include him, nudging his arm playfully or throwing in a comment like “Right, Aone?” as if it was obvious that he was part of the conversation.

At first, he thought maybe it was an accident. That you just hadn’t realized how others saw him. But when weeks passed and nothing changed, Aone started to realize something.

You weren’t scared of him. Not even a little bit.

And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that made his chest feel warm.

It started during practice one afternoon.

The team was running drills, the gym buzzing with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and volleyballs smacking against hands. Aone was focused, blocking each spike that came his way, his body moving on instinct. He wasn’t paying much attention to anything else until he heard a sharp gasp from the sidelines.

He turned his head just in time to see you stumble, tripping over someone’s stray bag. It was one of the first years', carelessly left near the edge of the court, and you hadn’t noticed it in time. Your arms flailed slightly as you lost your balance, and Aone’s body moved before his mind could catch up.

In an instant, his hands were on your arms, steadying you before you could hit the ground. His grip was firm, grounding, keeping you upright with ease. You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, caught off guard by the sudden proximity. For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, to his surprise, you laughed.

“Wow, you’re really strong,” you said, your voice light, as if you hadn’t just nearly faceplanted in the middle of practice.

Aone swallowed. He wasn’t used to compliments—especially not ones directed at him. His ears burned slightly, but he managed a stiff nod, gently letting go of you once he was sure you were steady.

You dusted yourself off, still grinning. “Guess I should stick close to you, huh? Might need you to save me again.”

Aone blinked.

Most people avoided standing too close to him. You were… different.

Slowly, he nodded again.

Your smile widened. “Good. That settles it.”

And just like that, you carried on, moving as if nothing had happened, as if Aone catching you had been the most natural thing in the world. But Aone felt a little different now, his hands still tingling from where he had touched you. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Later, when practice ended and the team started gathering their things, Aone noticed you walking in his direction. Without thinking, he shifted slightly, making space for you beside him. It was subtle, instinctive, but you noticed immediately, plopping down next to him with an exaggerated sigh.

“I think today’s the day I finally die,” you groaned dramatically. “Tell my family I love them.”

Aone huffed a quiet breath through his nose. It was barely anything, but you must have caught it because you turned your head and grinned at him.

“Was that a laugh?” you asked, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh, we’re making progress.”

Aone shook his head, but he didn’t deny it.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him curiously. “You know,” you mused, “most people get freaked out by you, but I don’t see why. You’re like… a human security blanket.”

Aone blinked at you, unsure of what to say to that. He had been called many things before—scary, intimidating, weird—but never a security blanket. He felt his ears burn again.

“I mean it,” you continued, stretching your arms above your head. “It’s nice having you around. Makes things feel a little more solid.”

He swallowed, staring down at his hands. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but before he could even try, you stood up, stretching out your back with a groan.

“Anyway, I better go before they make me do more work,” you said, nodding toward the rest of the team. “See you tomorrow, Aone.”

And then, like always, you left just as easily as you had appeared, leaving Aone sitting there, his mind spinning with thoughts he wasn’t sure how to process.

Maybe, for the first time, he didn’t mind having someone stick close to him after all.

Eddie imagine:

Imagine Eddie writing into every D&D campaign, a character that falls in love with your character. Or npc couples that are exactly like the two of you. You ask him one day why he does this. He just answered so casually like it was common knowledge, “because I’ll love you in every universe, time, and everything in between.”