Obey Me! Brothers – "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
Lucifer: The question doesn't get much of a reaction from him. He'll stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time, trying to decipher what kind of ulterior motive could be behind such an absurd question. He's trying to think of all paths to remedy such a thing. If you could peer into his mind, you would just hear the dial-up noise for a second.
Lucifer (drunk): He declares, unprompted (and very softly and sincerely), that he would still love you if you if you became a worm, and he has every confidence that you'd be the best worm that ever wormed.
Mammon: He's the one doing the asking. It leads you to suspect that he's under a curse as punishment from Lucifer and he is about to, in fact, become a worm. This causes you to hover around him worriedly all day until you are confident that he is not about to become the Avatar of Greed (Worm Edition). You still have to reassure him that you would still love him within a certain amount of time, of he'll get upset and pouty and pretend that the question didn't matter (it did).
Leviathan: He'll also be the one to ask the question. During a moment of introspection after binging an unexpectedly profound anime or game, he'll ask, dead serious. If there's too long of a gap of silence, he'll launch into a rambling speech about how he would take care of you if you were a worm. The silence is because you're wondering where he got that question from, and if you can trust his spotty record of taking care of creatures.
Satan: If you ask him, he'll approach the question from a very logical standpoint – the logistics of worm care. What kind of worm are we talking about? Is this a permanent thing? Is it a curse? He's certain he has a book to reverse that somewhere...or maybe it was about being turned into a snake? Wait right there, he's going to go find that book–
Asmodeus: He comes at you, tears glistening in his eyes, and drapes himself upon you, gazing up into your eyes like a starlet in some dramatic romance film from the 40's. He's been staring at himself in the mirror for an inordinate amount of time and wonders if you would still love him if he were a worm. He'd be the most beautiful and lovable worm, so of course you would, but he needs to hear it.
Beelzebub: He would be incredibly saddened by the concept because he fears that he might accidentally eat you without realising it one day. But he holds your face gently (like a hamburger), as if you were already a delicate, fragile little worm and he must be extra careful, and swears he would absolutely still love you as a worm.
Belphegor: Of course he would. What kind of question is that? He admits it wouldn't be nearly as fun because it would mean he could no longer cuddle up to and sleep with you, but at least it means you'd always be nearby in your terrarium when he was asleep.
Bonus!
Diavolo: He seems unduly delighted by such a whimsical question. So much so, you wonder if he might go looking for a way to turn this worm thing into another of his fun bonding activities. He gets a bit swept up in the idea of actually taking care of worm-you and starts thinking about how he would design and exquisite worm-sized palace of a terrarium for hypothetical worm-you and Barbatos has to gently ground him in reality.
Luke: The poor dear looks like he's about to burst into tears at such a horrible prospect. He valiantly vows that he would take care of you, and feed you the best sweets he could make and–and–! Oh dear. He's crying.
Solomon: He finds the question intriguing and though he gives an answer that is undoubtedly a 'Yes', somehow the phrasing and delivery and the expression on his face and the unknowable twinkle in his eyes makes you feel like there's some kind of fine print that you're forgetting (the fine print is being at the mercy of his cooking).
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TW: yandere, noncon, size/strength difference
gn reader
Thinking about breaking things off with your fuck friend 'cause you feel he's been catching feelings you have no intention of pitching...
“Why.” He asked, and the cross you’d made on your fingers in a wish to avoid the entire conversation untangled with a sigh.
“Please, don’t act dumb.” You groaned, exasperated and slightly irked. “You know why….”
“No. Tell me.” He argued, and you sighed again in regret of your own common decency – wishing you’d taken the entire break-off over text instead, or at the very least taken the time to think about what you would say or do if and when he got this way.
“You...”
You hesitated, taking a second to decide whether or not you really ought to voice it out loud – not because you had any doubts of it being true – but because the man in front of you was still very much a large brawny beefcake with temper issues no matter your sneaking suspicion that he saw you as something more than just a fuck friend.
“You’re getting too...” You continued, still scrambling for better words. Coming up short. “Clingy.”
He paused, his expression going from searching to a mix of offended and scrutinous.
“Clingy?” He repeated, forced disbelief a present factor in his tone. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who clings to me- screaming my name- begging me to cum inside you and-”
You cut his rant off with yet another sigh accompanied by a shake of your head. “That’s not what I mean by clingy. I’m sorry, I should have said emotional, and your comment just proved that.”
You folded your arms across your chest, watching him reel.
“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. We’re done.”
You left him on the sofa to go put your shoes back on – admonishing yourself for coming inside in the first place when you could have just as quickly done this on the doorstep and walked away.
“You're not going anywhere until we talk this through.” He followed, his stronger hand latching onto your upper arm in a grip that was unnecessarily harsh.
You didn’t really mind, though – it was his lack of charm that had charmed you to begin with – you only wished he’d remained that same savage he was and not gone all lovey-dovey soft on you.
“There's nothing to discuss.” You felt as though you were repeating yourself, getting more annoyed by the fact. “It was fun; now it isn't.” You underlined, looking back into his eyes, cringing when seeing the gloss of something that you really hoped wouldn’t amount to tears while you were still there.
“I'm gonna need more than that.” He said, the grip on your arm still kept firm with no inclination of letting up.
You didn’t really want things to get more awkward by asking him to let you go – feeling as though maintaining the position of strength was important so he not mistake your resolution.
He had a nasty habit of never taking you seriously.
“You’re being childish.” You stated.
“Childish?!”
His grip tightened with his outburst, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have your heart jump to your throat.
"Let go of me." Your voice had significantly diminished.
"You think you can tease me like this and then tell me to piss off?” He seethed, your arm aching in the bruising grip he had on it as he pulled you close until your face was an inch from his. “Think again."
Your breath thinned under his glare, and you felt nearly too stiff to do anything except stare back up at him in wait.
“Calm down.” You tried, but it seemed choice words were too little too late to save you.
“I am calm.” He hissed back into your face before pulling you back to the sofa.
Throwing you down on your back – you didn’t even have the time to gasp before he was on top of you.
“Get off me-” You whined, your hands shooting forth – trying with all your might to heave him off, but ultimately amounting to nothing more than a slight annoyance to the much larger man on top.
“It's all about sex with you, right? You want to have fun, right?” He said in a craze, and you cringed while he leaned down to graze your chest with chin-stubble and lips, whispering at your peachfuzz until goosebumps rose. “So let's have some fun.”
“Stop it – I said I don't want to anymore – I’m being serious.” You tried, once again – appealing to his reason.
But it would seem he was beyond reason…
“Oh? You're being serious?” He mocked with a sneer and a laugh. “You don't look it. If you want me to stop so badly, then stop me. Come on~ try a little harder. Show me how serious you are.”
You’re not sure why you took him up on the challenge, as you’d long known of your differences in build – how you posed as much of a threat as a bug in a mason jar...
But even a bug will try to escape still after the lid has been sealed.
“Come on~ you're not even trying~” He grossly crooned, smiling at your pitiful attempt at twisting him off with the useless help of your silly hands – how your much smaller body writhed beneath his weight and tried wriggling free.
Laughing dryly, he took your hands by the wrists and pinned them to the cushion beneath you. Sagging over you, his breath fanned your lips.
“What was I to you, huh?” He asked in a murmur, his face blank but his eyes swirling. “Just a toy?”
You were afraid to breathe, only keeping your gaze terror-wide of what he might do – still grasping to fathom how he’d even felt possessed enough to do this much – confused as to how you’d missed the signs while having not a single clue what more he was capable of.
“Guess now you're my toy, huh...” He muttered coldly.
And you just couldn’t help the whimper that it tore from you – finally understanding exactly what position you were in.
The disorienting knowing of what was soon to happen dawned on you mercilessly – and you completely broke under the hefty weight it had.
“Oh? You’ gonna cry now?” He scoffed before hissing. “That's cute, seeing as I’m the one who’s had his heart stepped on.”
“S-stop it, get off me-” You cried, whole body shaking where you squirmed to no use nor end.
“Not so cold-hearted now, are yah, fuckin' bitch?” Was all he had to say while leaning into where thick streams of tears rapidly ran down your cheeks in stingy streaks. “You scared?” He whispered in licks at your ear. “Gonna start begging, hm?”
You only shook – eyes squeezed tightly to a close.
“Nah…” His tone scraped, similar to how the shaven stubble on his chin scratched lightly against your neck as he started placing small kisses there despite your whines. “'Cause you want this too. I know you do.” He insisted. “You're just scared I'll break your little heart at some point.”
You’re breath hitched as his hands parted with its twin – leaving it to keep your wrists pinned by itself as the other one traveled down between your bodies to undo your zipper.
You wanted to say something, but you were too scared to – listening to him and his lovesick speech – full of so many things you feared could trigger much sicker things.
“But I promise you that no one’s heart is gonna break here.” He vowed, still with his lips pressed wetly against your throat. “Not yours or mine.”
BNHA – Bakugou, Shinso, Kirishima
JJK – Sukuna, Gojo
HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Oikawa, Sakusa, Miya twins
BLLK – Reo, Isagi
AOT – Eren
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My Wife is Real
IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER
GENRE: FLUFF
cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi.
Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there.
It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started.
Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media.
“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders.
“Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.”
Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.”
Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out.
Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.”
Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.”
“Then who are you texting?”
“My wife, duh.”
Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t.
Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.”
Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!”
Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real.
“She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.”
Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.”
Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face.
“You’ll see.”
“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji.
Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention?
Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one.
“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.”
“This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head.
“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.”
Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door.
Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door.
“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara.
She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.”
Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face.
“Wifey!”
He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold.
You let out a strangled gasp from the impact.
“Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.”
Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.”
You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.”
“Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.”
“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom.
You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock.
“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation.
You nervously smiled at the students.
“Hello.”
“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear.
You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him.
“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him.
“Yes…”
“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them.
“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you.
You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.”
“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes.
“Ever so dramatic.”
“...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?”
“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.”
You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks.
Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side.
“What are you doing?” He asks you.
You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.”
You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later.
Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.
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