Imagine Being Married To A Version Of Miguel (pt. 2)

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo lies to shoko in order to win a bet and you're dragged along for the ride. genre: fake-dating, friends to lovers, more slice-of-life than action, attempted humor notes: encounters w/ megumi, nobara, yuuji, and nanami. ummm there's a lunch date, gojo is just a mess, really. wc: ~5.4k song inspo ♫: stream by last dinosaurs

"Is it true?"

You look up from your laptop, glancing at Shoko as she bursts through your door. She composes herself quickly, straightening her lab coat before looking at you expectantly. Your eye twitches as you see Gojo peek his head out behind her, looking at you and desperately nodding his head. You let your gaze drift back to Shoko, who is now standing with her arms crossed as she taps her foot against the ground impatiently.

In a moment of weakness, you glance back at Gojo, huffing lightly before listening to him and nodding.

"Oh my god," Shoko whispers, mild horror on her face as she takes a step back. "Gojo? Really?"

You nod once more, confusion visible on your face as Gojo gives you a thumbs up. Shoko shakes her head, placing both of her palms on your desk before leaning down. You lean back slightly, caught off guard by her sudden proximity.

"Have you hit your head recently?"

"No, I haven't," you reply slowly, pushing your laptop to the side. "I haven't even been on any missions lately. What's this all about?"

Gojo stifles a laugh.

"Interesting," Shoko hums, staring at you for a few more seconds before straightening. She spares a glance at Gojo, eyes narrowing as she studies him. A sigh leaves her lips after a couple of seconds, and she gives you a sympathetic look before heading towards the door. She stops in front of Gojo briefly, tense as she looks up at him and speaks through gritted teeth. "Fine, I believe you. You're the strongest and handsomest jujutsu sorcerer of all time and I will never meet a man that's better than you."

"Thanks, I know," Gojo replies, a huge grin on his face as she scowls. She slips something into his hand, proceeding to flip him off as she finally disappears down the hall. Gojo turns his attention towards you, slipping into your office and shutting the door behind him before taking a seat in the chair in front of your desk.

He's relaxed as he kicks his feet up onto the table, leaning back into the chair and placing his arms behind his head as you frown. You throw a piece of paper at him, glaring at him when he shoots you a betrayed look.

"Get your feet off of my desk," you chastise, letting your gaze drift back to the report in front of you. The click of your keyboard is almost hypnotic as silence falls over the two of you, and Gojo begrudgingly puts his legs down, opting to place one leg over the other. It's not long before you click your tongue, repeating the question you had asked earlier. "So, will you tell me what that was about?"

"What ever do you mean?"

"Gojo," you say sternly, giving him a dry look over the top of your laptop. Your eyes flicker to his hand, still holding on to whatever it was that Shoko had given him. "C'mon, let me see what's in your hand."

You think that there might be a soft blush tinting Gojo's cheeks as he brings his hand forward, slowly unfurling his fingers to reveal a smushed packet of cigarettes. The confusion is clear on your face as you look up to meet what you assume to be his eyes (the blindfold makes it hard to tell, really), and he shyly turns his head away as you wait for an explanation.

"Shoko and I made a bet," Gojo finally says, flipping his hand over to let the cigarette packet fall onto the table. At your unamused look, he continues. "She said that the day I got someone respectable to date me would be the day she stopped smoking, and well..."

Silence ensues as he trails off, vaguely motioning to you as he clamps his mouth shut. Your eyes soften at his words, and you lean forwards to grab the cigarette packet before tossing it into the trash.

"So you told her we were together?" you ask, humming softly as everything begins to make sense. Gojo nods softly, still refusing to look your way. You ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, Gojo."

There's a pause after your words, and neither one of you quite know how to break the ice that has clearly formed. It isn't until Gojo clears his throat that you spit out the first words that come to mind, eager to keep talking to him even if it's just for a few minutes.

"So what was the reward?"

Your question brings Gojo's attention back to you, and he says nothing as you feel his gaze settle on you.

"For the bet?" you prompt, breaking Gojo out of whatever daze he was in. "What would each of you get if you won?"

"She wanted those stupid, fancy cigarettes from France," Gojo muttered, tilting his head up towards the ceiling in a way that made you wonder if he was rolling his eyes. "And a stupid, fancy dinner at that restaurant she loves so much."

"And I'm assuming you got to hear those very nice words from her in return if you won," you tease, a smile breaking out onto your face as Gojo breathes out a laugh.

"Yeah," he admits, running a hand through his hair before slouching and sinking into his seat. "I never would've gotten her to say that otherwise. Oh! And the cigarettes. I told her that if I won the bet then she needed to hand them over. I don't like that she's been smoking more often these days."

You feel your heart warm at his words, only to sober up when you realize there's a huge flaw in his plans.

"Gojo, wait," you say, eyebrows furrowing as you bite your lower lip in concern. "There's an issue here. We aren't dating."

"Do you want to?"

Gojo's response is instantaneous, and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from reacting to his words. You hum thoughtfully, doing your best to pretend his words don't have a profound impact on you as you throw a pen at him.

"Be serious," you hiss, rolling your eyes when he chuckles at your action. The pen bounces off of him harmlessly, and you scoff as it happens. "Sooner or later, Shoko is gonna realize we aren't really dating and she's gonna demand a lot more than that dinner."

The smile falls off Gojo's face when he realizes your words are true, and he groans as he leans forward, elbows on his knees as he cradles his head in his hands. "You're right. We're screwed!"

"You're screwed," you quip, smiling smugly when he looks up at you, mouth agape in disbelief.

"C'mon! You gotta help me! You're really gonna leave me all alone to face Shoko's wrath?" Gojo's lips are pursed in an exaggerated pout, and you're certain that if he were to remove his blindfold, his eyes would be shining with unshed tears in an attempt to guilt you into helping him.

"Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you. I don't have to do anything."

"Please. I'll do anything you want!"

You hesitate at his words, a smile appearing on his face once again as he realizes you're seriously contemplating listening to him.

"Anything?" you ask quietly.

"Anything." he states confidently.

"Okay then," you say smugly, crossing your arms as you grin. "I want that fancy dinner Shoko wanted."

You realize you've made a mistake when Gojo gasps, proceeding to then hold his hands to his heart as he pretends to swoon. "My, my, are you asking me out on a date?"

"No!" you shriek, taking a deep breath before standing up from your chair and making your way to the door. "You know what, nevermind. I'm gonna go talk to Shoko."

"Wait, wait! No! I was kidding," Gojo pleads, shooting out of his seat as he follows you. His hand slams on the door before you can even open it, and he squeezes in front of you to block your path, his back up against the door as he slides down to rest his head on your shoulder. "I'll take you out to dinner, just don't speak with Shoko! Besides, it'll make this relationship look more authentic if we go on dates!"

"Relationship?" you ask, shock lacing your words as you gently shove Gojo off of your shoulder.

"Yes," Gojo confirms, shaking his head firmly before taking both of your hands in his. "To keep Shoko from finding out I lied, we have to date. We can't let her get suspicious."

When he notices the mildly horrified look on your face, Gojo hastily rephrases his words.

"Or at least fake date! From now on, you're my pseudo-partner!"

Out of all the friends you made during your time at Jujutsu Tech, you had always known Mei Mei and Gojo to be the biggest gossips in existence. Heck, even Geto had been prone to getting carried away by gossip, his dark eyes gleaming with interest as he'd pull you aside to chat.

And yet, Ieiri Shoko was the reason that the entirety of Jujutsu Tech knew about your "relationship" with Gojo.

"So it's true?"

Megumi is the first to corner you after class, an unreadable look on his face as he stares you down. You wonder if playing dumb would work on him.

"Is what true?" you ask, tilting your head to one side questioningly as you gather your materials. The blank look he gives you is answer enough, and you sigh to yourself as you wonder why you thought you could ever deceive Fushiguro Megumi. You shoulders slump as you lean against the wall, giving up on your innocent act and sending him a weak smile before replying. "If we're thinking about the same thing then yes, it is."

There's an almost relieved expression on Megumi's face, his green eyes softening as he nods. The gesture is more to himself than to you. You wonder what he's thinking about.

"Well it's about time!" Nobara yells, bouncing up to Megumi and resting her elbow on his shoulder. The scene before you is almost comical, especially because of their height difference. The trio is completed as Yuuji comes up behind the two of them, his head peeking through the space between Nobara and Megumi as he sends you a bright grin.

"Congrats," Megumi mutters, his eyes narrowing into an instinctive glare when Gojo comes sauntering into the room. There's a wide grin on his face as he comes to a stop next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you into his side. Nobara snickers at your flustered expression, and you think that there might be a faint smile on Megumi's face. "I was surprised to hear that he finally asked you out."

There's a loud laugh immediately after Megumi's words, and the four of you turn to face Gojo as he waves his three students off. "Shouldn't you all be getting to class?"

"Class is over," Megumi replies dully, an eyebrow raising as he studies Gojo.

"What do you mean by that, Megumi?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"I mean that he's had a cr—"

Megumi's words are cut off as Gojo lunges forward, slapping a hand over the younger boy's mouth and ushering him out the door. "Well, it was nice to see the three of you but you really should get going now. Bye!"

"Wait!" Nobara yells, a wicked grin on her face as she looks back at you. "Did you know that he never shuts up—"

Her words are also cut off as Gojo slams the door, making sure to lock it before turning around to face you. There's an awkward grin on his face, his breaths loud and fast as he tries to recover from the incident that just occurred.

"What was that all about?" you ask, crossing your arms as Gojo comes to stand in front of you.

"What are you talking about?"

You're reminded of the conversation that the two of you had in your office a few days ago, and you simply rub the bridge of your nose before grabbing your bag and heading to the door. "You know what? Forget it, I don't think I want to know. Why are you here?"

"There's no need to be so cold," Gojo says, a pout on his face as he approaches you. There's a mocking smile on your face as you move past him to grab the door knob, and Gojo feels his cheeks heating up as he looks away. You pause after unlocking the door, looking back to observe him before placing your hands on your hips.

"Well? What is it?"

"Nothing, forget it. I can't stand to look at you right now. You're so mean to me," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms as a snort escapes you. He refuses to look even as he hears you approach, and he briefly closes his eyes even though he knows you can't see him do so.

Neither one of you notices when the door slides open.

"Don't be difficult," you chide, leaning to try and catch his attention. He turns his head even more, a smile threatening to pull at his lips as he recognizes just how ridiculous he's being. You shake your head softly, reaching up to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you. Gojo's cheeks turn a soft pink, and he turns his head the other way, hoping that you hadn't noticed. He's stopped by your other hand, and he finds his throat going dry when he realizes that you are cradling his face in your hands.

You've pulled him down slightly, doing your best to get to eye level with him. He can't stop himself from leaning into your palms, feeling your fingers twitch at the sudden pressure before they skim the top of his cheekbones.

"So now that I have your attention again," you start, a softer smile now adorning your lips. Gojo absentmindedly thinks that you always seem to have his attention. "Why did you come to my class? Did you need my help with something?"

"Yeah," Gojo breathes, his arms unfolding and falling limp to his sides. He's closer than he was before, and he wonders who began to lean in first. He hopes it was you. "I was going to ask you if— Yuuji?!"

He straightens up immediately, putting distance between the two of you as he walks toward the door. You flounder for a moment, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around. Standing in the doorway are your three students, with Megumi being squished in between a smiling Nobara and a bashful Yuuji.

The silence is broken as Gojo takes a step towards the door, towering over the three teenagers as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

"I thought I told you three to leave," Gojo hisses, leaning down to be face level with Megumi. Yuuji shrinks behind him, but Nobara and Megumi remain in their places.

"We were curious." is all Megumi says in response.

"Curious about what?" you ask, coming up next to Gojo and leaning against the doorway. One of your eyebrows is raised, and Yuuji grins before stepping back up to Megumi's side.

"About the two of you!" Yujji says, wiggling his eyebrows as he glances between you and Gojo. His playful expression drops when Megumi elbows him, and a tiny smile remains on his face as leans against him.

"But our curiosity is sated. Or at least, mine is," Nobara adds, a bored look on her face as she turns around. "I seriously doubted that Gojo had asked you out but I guess I was wrong. I'm gonna go find Maki."

The four of you watch as Nobara walks away, and your attention is only torn away when Megumi steps closer to you. He's wearing a conflicted look on his face, and if you didn't know any better, you might've thought he was constipated.

"I'm... happy for you," Megumi finally says, his words sounding strangled as he glances at Gojo. Not even a second passes before Gojo is on Megumi, hugging him and pinching his cheeks as he coos over his words.

"I knew you cared about me, Gumi!" Gojo cries, immediately flinching in pain when Megumi kicks him. Regardless, he refuses to relinquish his hold, and you can't help the way your eyes widen when Megumi attempts to go in and bite Gojo's arm.

"Okay!" you yell, rushing forward and grabbing Gojo's arm. You gently pry his hands off of Megumi's face, and you smile when the green-eyed boy sends you a grateful look. "That's enough terrorizing teenagers for a day, don't you think?"

"Terrorizing?" Gojo gasps, swooning dramatically as he shifts his focus to you. "I have nothing but love and affection for my Gumi. I would never terrorize him."

It's almost comical to see you, Megumi, and Yuuji all turn to face Gojo, disbelieving looks on your faces as you look at the white-haired sorcerer.

"Yeah, okay."

"Whatever," Gojo grumbles, shaking his head before he slides his arm out of your grasp. The physical contact remains, however, when he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. You vaguely register the way Megumi gapes at the sight, too busy with how warm his hand was to truly be present. "Since you insist I leave Megumi alone, I say we leave. Perhaps get some lunch? That's what I came in to ask you about in the first place anyways."

He doesn't give you the chance to answer before he's pulling you down the hall, remembering to shoot a quick wave over his shoulder at his two remaining students.

"He really likes them, doesn't he?" Yuuji asks, his head tilted to the side as he watches the two of you leave.

"Yeah," Megumi replies, also observing the two of you. He'd never admit it, but Yuuji notices the fond look in his eyes as he looks at you and Gojo. "He really does."

Lunch is an awkward affair. Or at least, it is for you.

Gojo has not stopped staring at you since you sat down, not even when the waitress came by to take your order, and you feel like you're losing your mind as you try to avoid looking his way. A part of you wonders if he's really looking at you, especially considering the fact that his blindfold is still on. But training to be a jujutsu sorcerer has helped you hone your instincts, and deep down you're sure that he's been watching you for the past twenty minutes.

You thank the waitress when she places your order down on the table, and you dig into your meal almost immediately. You pause when you notice that Gojo hasn't moved, hands laced together under his chin to support his head as he studies you.

"I thought you said you can't stand to see me," you say dryly, leaning back from the table and finally looking up at him.

"That's why the blindfold is on," he replies cheekily. You scoff at his response before finally taking a bite of food, your eyes lighting up when you do so.

"This is delicious!" you rave, giving Gojo a surprised look before taking another small bite. "How'd you find this place."

"Someone recommended it to me."

"Who?"

"Someone who really, really likes food," Gojo says mysteriously. You give him a blank look, shaking your head at his antics.

"Let me guess," you say, giving him a smug smile. "Nanami?"

Gojo deflates in his seat, and you hold back a chuckles at his reaction.

"Yeah," he responds dully, looking down at the table. "Nanami."

"Yes?"

The two of you look up to see Nanami himself standing next to your table, a tired look on his face as he looks at Gojo.

"Nanami! Hello!" you say excitedly, earning a tiny smile from him. "I haven't seen you in so long, how are you?"

"I'm fine," he says tiredly, absentmindedly straightening his tie before continuing. "How about you?"

"I'm good!" you respond, smiling brightly as you turn to face him. "I'm actually—"

"On a date," Gojo cuts in, smiling innocently up at Nanami. "With me."

"I see," Nanami says quietly, glancing between the two of you before his eyes settle on Gojo. "So it's true."

"Yup, we're dating!" Gojo proclaims proudly, a smug look on his face as he finally, finally, picks up a bite of his food and tries it.

There's a mildly concerned look on Nanami's as he meets your eyes, and you notice the way his eyebrows furrow before he speaks. "I'm sorry."

There's a loud cough as Gojo chokes on his food, and the two of you turn to watch him reach for his napkin before taking a sip of water.

"Hey!" he exclaims, pausing when he lets out another cough. There's an unamused look on Nanami's face as he watches him, and he turns back to look at you as he places a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm really sorry."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gojo cries, an irritated pout on his lips as he stares at Nanami's hands. "You say that like being with me is a bad thing."

"Well you know what they say: if the shoe fits."

You think you see a faint smile on Nanami's lips, and you hold back a giggle as you realize that he's teasing Gojo. And based on the scandalized look that Gojo sends his way, you can tell it's working.

"I'm a good boyfriend!" Gojo argues, looking at you as he motions towards Nanami. "Tell him!"

"He's right," you say with a laugh. "He's been very sweet and he even paid for lunch!"

"Well, I suppose the heart wants what it wants," Nanami finally says, removing his hand from your shoulder before looking over at the counter. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat before it's too late for lunch. Congratulations."

You wave as Nanami walks away before picking up your silverware once more. You pause when you feel Gojo's fingers brush against your other hand, before fully engulfing it in his. There's a confused smile on your face as you stare at him, flipping over your hand so you were palm to palm with his.

"Am I a good boyfriend?" he asks suddenly, catching you off guard with his words. You look at him for a little longer, blinking rapidly before you realized he was genuinely asking.

"The best," you say, squeezing his hand softly before leaning down to take a bite of food.

He looks down at the table and smiles.

Lunch dates with Gojo become common, the two of you exploring new restaurants and cafes every chance you got.

Holding hands with Gojo also becomes common, along with him paying for anything you wanted. (Whenever you'd argue and insist you'd pay, he would simply wave you off, making a comment about how he wouldn't be a good boyfriend if he didn't spoil you any chance he got.)

It’s only when Maki remarks that you never keep your hands off of each other that you finally come to a conclusion.

You are in love with Gojo Satoru.

And that’s the realization that currently has you running down the halls.

"Shoko!" you cry, bursting into her office and collapsing onto the chair across from her desk. She gives you an alarmed look, quickly scanning your body and relaxing slightly when she doesn't see any visible injuries.

"What's wrong?" she asks, concern lacing her voice as she studies your expression.

"I've come to a horrible realization," you say, eyes wide as you looked at her, trying to make her understand just how important this conversation was. She waves her hand, signaling for you to continue.

"I'm in love with Gojo," you whisper, looking slightly horrified when you realize you've finally said the words out loud. You glare at Shoko when she snorts, and she leans back in her seat as she looks at you expectantly.

"Yeah, I kinda assumed," she says dully, her tone making it seem as though you had stated a fact. you throw your head back and groan, throwing an arm over your eyes as you try to get comfortable.

"Is it that obvious?" you whine. There's a sigh from Shoko as she observes you, and you're glad that you're not looking at her in that moment. You don't think you can handle the look you know she's wearing.

"Yeah, you're dating." Shoko scoffs, stretching her leg out under her desk to kick at you.

"No, we're not," you admit, turning away from the ceiling to give her a guilty look. "He lied to you."

A strangled noise leaves Shoko's throat, and she wastes no time before reaching into her desk drawer and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. You give her a scowl, standing up and leaning over the desk to try and snatch them away from her. She swats you away, and you give a resigned sigh before sinking into your seat once more.

"That motherfucker," Shoko grumbles, pulling a lighter out of her coat pocket and flicking it. You watch as she lights the cigarette in her mouth, giving her a disappointed look that she chooses to ignore. She leans in slightly, taking a drag of the cigarette before nodding her head at you. "Why'd he lie to me?"

"Well he said that your cigarettes were on the line," you admit, also leaning in closer to the desk. You slide the ashtray on the corner of her desk closer to her, earning a thankful look. "All he had to do was get someone respectful to date him and you'd stop. So I helped him, because I've also been concerned about your smoking habits lately."

A loud laugh leaves Shoko's lips at your words, and you give her a confused look when she puts her cigarette out. There's a wide grin on her face as she gives you a knowing look, and you find yourself shifting in your seat as she just stares.

"He lied to you," she finally says, her voice even and tone casual, as though she hadn't just dropped a truth bomb on you.

"He what? Why?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you process her words. "Why would he lie to me about that?"

"Because," Shoko says, the smile still on her face. "The original bet wasn't that he had to date someone respectable. The original bet was that Gojo should grow a pair and finally ask out the person he's been in love with since we graduated high school."

You sit silently for a moment, so still that Shoko thinks you might not be breathing. She reaches over to poke your shoulder earning a wide-eyed look from you as her words echo in your head.

"He's in love with me?" you shriek.

Shoko laughs.

You've become more fidgety lately, enough to the point that Gojo notices.

When he reaches for your hand, you flinch, giving him a nervous smile and an apology before lacing your fingers with his. Every time he slings an arm around your shoulders, you tense, and Gojo can't help but ask you every time if his actions are okay. You always say yes.

Gojo notices you're often lost in thought, looking off into the distance and giving him an embarrassed smile when he waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention. He wonders what's happened, especially considering you've never been one to get lost inside of your own head.

It's not until the two of you are eating lunch (in his office this time) that he finally breaks, lowering the sunglasses he had chosen to wear that day and giving you a curious glance before speaking.

"So what's wrong?"

His question breaks you out of your dazed state, and you slide your lunch to the side before giving him a mildly convincing smile.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, tilting your head as you try to give him an innocent look. Gojo snorts at your response, remembering all the times he's answered your questions with those exact same words.

"That won't work on me," he chides, reaching out to grab your hand. His thumb skims the top of your knuckles, and you giggle nervously before trying to pull your hand back. His grip tightens slightly, and you sigh before grabbing onto his hand as well. "Now c'mon. Tell Gojo what's on your mind."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him an unimpressed look before sighing.

"I told Shoko," you admit quietly, watching as his eyes widen in surprise. "About... us."

"Oh," Gojo breathes, blinking rapidly. His hand goes limp around your own and you wait for him to keep speaking, but he only stares at you in return. You take the opportunity to slide your hand out of his grip, meeting no resistance this time as you do so.

"So I guess she wants that dinner right?" he asks, laughing hollowly as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Gojo," you say, your tone serious as you stare at him. "She told me the truth. About the bet."

"Oh," he repeats, his hand falling limply to his desk. He swallows harshly, giving you an unreadable look before leaning back in his seat. "Is that why you've been so distant lately?"

"Distant?" you echo, eyebrows furrowing. "I haven't been— oh."

You cut yourself off as you realize what Gojo means. All your avoidance, all the freezing up under his touch— he thought you were trying to distance yourself from him.

"I was trying to figure out..." you trail off, closing your eyes briefly in an attempt to hype yourself up. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you I feel the same."

There's a sharp intake of breath at your words, your whispered confession hanging in the air for a few seconds. You refuse to look up when you hear Gojo leave his seat, your heart pounding as he rounds his desk to approach you.

"Are you telling the truth?" Gojo whispers, his head hanging low as he crouches next to your chair. His voice is hoarse when he speaks again, and you find yourself glancing his way when his fingers graze yours. "Please, tell me you are. I know it was my idea, but I can't keep pretending we’re together when I’m in love with you."

"I am."

The words are barely out of your mouth when Gojo reaches out, his fingers splayed out across your cheek as he cups your jaw. You can feel him leaning in closer, his eyes closing when he leans his forehead against yours.

"You promise?" he mumbles. Your breath catches in your throat as you nod. "Good."

He leans in even closer, pausing when his nose bumps against yours. There's a brief moment of stillness before you take charge, leaning forward to close the gap between the two of you. Your lips meet in a soft kiss, and you pull away slightly, meeting Gojo's eyes briefly before the two of you dive right back in for another.

Your lips move in tandem with his, and you feel your stomach twist as he deepens the kiss. He gently pulls you off your seat, shifting so that his back is against his desk as he pulls you on to his lap. You straddle him without objection, his hands coming down to grab your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

Gojo pouts as you pull away to catch your breath, and he only reaches up to grab your chin and pull you down, pressing a multitude of soft kisses to your lips as his hold on your tightens.

"You know," you mumble in between kisses, your eyes fluttering as you lean further back. Gojo's lips chase yours. "When Shoko found out the truth, she had a packet of cigarettes ready to go."

"Well," Gojo starts, grabbing your hand with his as he presses another kiss to your lips. "I guess that means we just gotta go take them from her. After all, a bet is a bet."

extra:

Gojo eventually tells the first years, the second years, Shoko, Nanami, and even Yaga that the two of you are dating "for realsies". They're all confused until Shoko tells them about the bet and Maki immediately asks if you're sure you want to be with him. Gojo yells at her and she then proceeds to call Yuuta, who hesitantly congratulates the two of you over the phone.

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

"MY TYPE IS..." with TWISTED WONDERLAND

synopsis: you respond to a "what's your type?" question with his name. how does he react?

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, & deuce x gn! painfully blunt! reader

includes: cursing, non-explicit makeout mention,

heartslabyul(here), savanaclaw+octavinelle, scarabia+pomefiore, ignihyde+disomania.

grim, as always, was nagging you with questions in front of your crush and group of friends. they're all left to their own devices until grim asks, "what's your type?" and the attention of your crush falls on you for your answer.

riddle rosehearts, dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my ideal type? well, he's red-haired, with grey eyes, whose short and just happens to be the dorm leader of heartslabyul!"

the "ideal crush" in question was as red as his hair. he almost spits his tea out.

you practically confessed to riddle! or at least told him he's the type you're looking for.

riddle looks at you like you've gone mad, not even realizing he's been actively staring at you.

"[name], are you serious?" he questions, calming himself down. you look at him confused.

"why wouldn't i be serious? was my clear description of you, riddle rosehearts, my crush, not enough?"

he still looks at you confused. riddle fully understands, it's just.. you're being so straightforward about it! he can't handle how blunt you're being with your advances.

you sigh, "since you still aren't understanding, i like you riddle. is that clear enough?"

"no, i am not as red as my hair! ugh, yes, [name]. i understood just well. it just took me a while to get used to how blunt you were. but, i guess i could say you're my ideal type too. and i guess i like you too."

trey clover, vice dorm leader of heartslabyul.

"my type's obviously a green-haired, amber-eyes, glasses-wearing, hot baker with a clover on his cheek."

doth trey's ears deceive him? you obviously just described him. he has green hair, yellow eyes, glasses, and a clover on his cheek. plus, he's a baker!

trey doesn't even realize he's stared at you, the tart he made long forgotten on his plate.

you stare at him like you didn't just say he was your type. "um, [name]?" "yeah?"

trey looks at you, takes a deep breath and asks, "do you like me?"

"of course i do, silly! i wouldn't have described you as my type if i didn't."

trey takes a deep breath once again. thank the great seven.

"oh thank goodness. i liked you too but i didn't really know how to approach it. i was gonna make you a (favorite dessert) with "will you be mine?" on it, but i guess i don't have to anymore. oh? i should still do it? well, i guess you'll just have to come over to heartslabyul tonight for a surprise, dear."

cater diamond, heartslabyul third year.

"do you even have eyes? my type is this really cute guy with orange hair, green eyes, a red diamond on his face, a heartslabyul third year and magicam influencer! aka, the hottest guy in the world!"

he squeals. cater lets out a loud, high-pitched, squeal that would be associated with preppy high school girls in movies. people would have noticed if it wasn't for the already loud cafeteria.

he moves to the seat next to you, holding you by your waist.

"[name], do you really like me?" the smile on his face blinds you, but you can see he has a hint of worry in his green eyes. imagine how disappointed he'd be if you were to like some other heartslabyul guy that looked exactly like him.

you lean in, hooking a arm around his neck and using your hand to push his head into your lips. your lips kiss him and you can taste his lime tart and cherry chapstick.

"is.. is that enough to prove to you that i love you?" you pant after the kiss, looking at cater's reddened face.

"haha! that was more than enough, but how about you prove to me how much you love me a bit more, cutie?"

(you guys make out and have to be forcefully separated becuase the friend group does NOT approve of the pda.)

ace trappola, heartslabyul first year.

"okay, so he's a fucking pain in the ass and a stupid idiot but i love him, y'know? his orange-red hair and the stupid heart on his face and that silly grin his makes when he does something dumb like breaking riddles rules or messes up a potion or something.. he may be a fucking dumbass but he's a dumbass i have a crush on."

first of all, ouch.

he's not a pain in the ass or a stupid idiot! and his heart isn't stupid and his grin isn't silly- wait, did you say you have a crush on him?

ace is flattered, but that would never ever stop him from being a little shit about it.

i mean, you called him a stupid idiot you love, right? so that means that he can be a dumbass and you'll still forgive him, right? of course you will, he thinks.

"[nickname]~ you have a crush on me? aww, you're too cute! of course you'd like me, i'm hot, i have a cute grin,-- what! i'm not an idiot!"

deuce spade, heartslabyul first year.

"what a silly question! anyways, my type is tall, blue-haired, and a real cutie! he has this cute little spade on his face but hes kinda dumb. i love it about him though! the pout on his face he gets when he's confused is adorable!"

queue cute, confused deuce.

"aw look, he's doing the little confusion pout right now! ah, i have the biggest crush on him!" you gush, and the color drains from his face before it comes back as a vibrant red blush.

he bangs his head on the table, making a cute whimpering noise.

when he finally looks up, still blushing, he's met with your smile and almost topples over. you're gonna give him a heart attack!

"don't embarrass me like that! ugh, but since we're on the matter, y-yeah i like you, too."

LIES, LIES, LIES — #RYOMENSUKUNA

sypnosis: sukuna never expected you to break up with him out of nowhere. you blocked him through everything. now he stalks you on your social media, starting to wear less and going out with people he never met before.

#content: ryomen sukuna x fem! reader. 2.5k words. petty sukuna. mature language. heavy making out. he used to be a fuq boy. this was supposed to be a drabble but oh well. wrote this while listening to telekinesis, marvins room, ball w/o you, and hotline bling. not edited too lazyyyy ehh

ryomen sukuna is so petty. and anxious. sukuna's anxious now that you are no longer his. for him, you are. you'll always be his. but not for you, no. not after you broke up with him out of nowhere. is this his karma for breaking too many hearts before?

he never posts about him going to parties or having fun in general. but these nights, he does. he shows everything in his instagram story because there's a chance you're watching him.

he wants you to watch him have fun without you. he'll do just fine without you. don't blame the man for acting petty, you broke his heart after all. but what sukuna did not know is that you were doing the same thing.

you blocked him the day you broke up with him. on all your social media. so on the same day, he made a burner account. how long has it been? you broke up with him — 5 weeks ago, he tried going after you the first two weeks, but it didn't work. he hasn't seen you in 3 weeks now. he checks it every hour of the day. he just wants to see. one thing about you is that he knows you don't post. so when he saw the colored circle around your picture he immediately clicked it.

it was a video of you. you wore his favorite dress. that short red sparkly dress. it was his favorite color, you knew that. you were holding a liquor in your left hand while singing along with the background music.

what's the title again? — ah. best i ever had. fuck, you really were the best he ever had. you're all he ever wanted. before, he'll be the only one to see this. again, you never post pictures or videos. instead, you send them to sukuna. you claim that he's the only one who should see them anyway. but now that situation has changed, you're showing that beautiful face to everyone. not just him.

the next slide is a picture of you and your friends — who are these people? he knows all your friends. new people? he doesn't know what's happening in your life now.

how the fuck did you even get to where you started?

where were you? at a party? friend's party? club? does it even matter, at the end of the day you were having fun. now, he's more uneasy than ever. you wouldn't sleep with anyone, right? you know better. you should. you could sleep with half of the world, you still wouldn't forget him. you'll always know him. you don't need anyone else.

he shouldn't text you. you wouldn't want that. no he won't text you. he'll get over it.

he’s not texting you.

sukuna what the fuck did i do wrong baby

sukuna answer

sukuna where are u

you ???

sukuna let's talk

sukuna we need it

you we ??? u mean u need it lol

sukuna i miss u

sukuna please let's talk

you fine, pick me up

you [xxx-xxx]

you found him waiting for you just outside your friend's house. he looks good. so much for a guy who's miserable without you. did he lie about that too? that he's miserable without you? he looks just fine. he was wearing a black compression shirt. he was at a party before this, you know that. you stalked his socials after all. who was he trying to impress? who did he fuck this time?

"you look grumpy." you plastered a smile on your face greeting him, "let's go there, it's quieter and it has uhm — privacy." you pointed at the empty dark garden. sukuna did not answer he only followed you, both of his hands tucked in his pockets. what time was it? — 11:05 at night. sukuna didn't look drunk. or high. he usually does when he goes to a party.

"what?" he starts, "what?" you asked back. he should talked. he was the one who rushed here. he was the one who bought you here when you should be having fun inside.

"you dressed up well." you feel his eyes on you. his observing you. you quickly look away. avoiding eye contact. you feel shy. you haven't seen him in almost three weeks. he hadn't stared at you like this in weeks. it's not like he has a chance.

"just talk about what you wanna talk about," you stated. you want this to be over with. because if this will continue, you know damn well, you'll be swayed.

"why?" he asked. that's all he wants to ask. a simple why. he just wants to know. he looks at you, his eyes never leave you. his not begging you with his words. it's those eyes that are begging you to speak up.

you loved sukuna. no, you love him. you spent the past weeks without him thinking about all his lies and cover-ups — all the things they said about him. you're insecure. maybe that's why. maybe being with sukuna is harming the insecurity more. because the more you're with him, the more louder you hear the voices of others insulting you.

you recall that first woman's voice, what exactly did she say again — "sukuna. your boyfriend. how long do you think he plans to keep you as his plaything?" then another one, "sukuna's funny. he really tries so hard to keep the girl by his side like he won't leave her when he gets bored." this one you overheard on the way to the bathroom. "you think sukuna loves that girl?" this one you also overhead, it was a full conversation bashing you, "probably not, his favorite one, maybe? we all know he never sticks to one."

he never sticks to one. sukuna gets bored easily. plaything. of course you try not to listen to them. they're not sukuna, but, they keep replaying, it's not like it's all a lie. before — sukuna had his way around girls like this. he is not the type to call a woman back the next morning after hanging out with them the whole night. he never likes commitment, the only commitment that he has ever done before you is his tattoos.

these thoughts eat you up. you broke up with him after a week of contemplating. you did it through a phone call. you might sound like an asshole but it was a decision for the sake of yourself. you hanged up before he can even speak.

but it didn't really stop there — he showed up to your work the next day. you pushed him away. then he shows up to your class. outside the building. again, you pushed him away. every time he comes he brings food, flowers, bears, and gifts. you claimed that he just wasted money. he was persistent.

he continued for two weeks. after that, he stopped showing up. you wondered if he was tired. he must've been.

you stalked him using your burner account that night he stopped coming. he was at a party. having fun. you also watch the stories of his close friends. just to get a glimpse of him more — he really was having fun. you swipe to the next post, it's a group picture. his arms around another woman. he has that cocky fucking smile on his face.

sukuna was back to being who he was before you. that night you cried your way to sleep. — did you even sleep? how can you sleep when he's out with other girls?

you stayed a mess for days. this night, your friend begged you to attend her birthday party. you decided to go. you needed it anyway. a night away from sukuna.

it was really supposed to be a night without sukuna. but you can't seem to — escape him.

"you and i." you start quietly finding the clear and right words to use, "we don't work."

he scoffs, "how the fuck do ya know that?"

he's always been a hard person to talk to, he's hard-headed. "because you're you. and i'm well — me."

sukuna knows you too well. he can tell that you're nervous. why are you nervous? you must be lying. he observes you — again. you're fidgeting. no. you're not lying but you're not telling him everything either.

"you haven't answered that question yet."

your eyes that are fixed on the ground glare at him, "i just answered, you have a hard time understanding."

he hums clearly not impressed, "why? tell me. then i'll decide if we break up or not."

"that's not up to you to decide, you know, you're being unreasonable again."

"talk 'bout being unreasonable, eh? who broke the relationship without one proper reason? it's clearly not me, baby."

he's frustrating. sukuna will always be frustrating.

"they —" you start. you can't help but pout, you don't wanna cry tonight. not with this pretty makeup on. but you're sensitive. you don't want to talk about this. you don't want to remember what they all said. you really did love him after all. you can only hold so much.

he noticed, he's observant. he takes a step closer to you, "hey — fuck — are you crying? don't . . baby . . hey it's okay you can tell me, okay?" he holds one of your hands and he wipes the little tears that are rolling down your eyes.

he knew it. there's something. something is bothering you. something you're not telling him. he wishes that he can kiss those tears away. he wishes that after this you'd come with him home. who dares to make his baby cry anyway?

"uhm . . they've been talking," you sniffle, "a lot about us — our relationship — me. saying a lot of mean things. and i don't like being treated like that suku. i hate it so much. they always say that — you're not really serious and that you'll fuck me over." you stop for a second taking a look at his face — is he mad? he looks glazed. his holding your hands tighter now. " . . and it's not like i don't trust you . . you know — it's just that i don't wanna constantly deal with them because i'm so fucking tired."

"then don't listen." sukuna calmly says. that's new. you expect him to react . . mad, annoyed, or hostile even. that's more likely his personality. but sukuna cares about your sensitivity. it wouldn't be a good decision for him to scream at you and scold you. he simply cares. "don't fucking listen (Y/N)"

sukuna understands now. for you, he does. he might be a asshole sometimes but he can be a decent guy if you need him to be.

"it's not your fault, baby, i'm not blaming you, i'll never do that. nothing is your fault."

he finally let go of your hand shortly and then pulled you into a hug, a tight one. ryomen sukuna is yearning for you. he lets out a sigh of relief. it's gonna be fine now. he'll fix everything. "don't listen to the lies, i swear, they're all lies." he continues, "they're not me, dumb, that's what they are."

"it's not even just that — you. you're such an asshole. you replaced me too fast!"

"when the fuck did i? woman."

"you keep partying with another woman. i saw everything, you know." you state grumbling at the pink-haired man, he chuckles, sneering "stalker."

it was all worth it. him being petty is worth it.

"you fucked that girl that you met at the party?" you asked hopeful for a no.

"hmm i'm no cheater, baby." he says proudly, "you know that better than anyone. i posted that for you to see. wanted to act petty, you know."

it was silence after that. you want to kiss him. the brooding vibe that occupied the space earlier is gone. the feeling is familiar now. it smells like sukuna now. maybe it's his expensive high-end perfume or maybe it's just him urging you to come back home to him.

"i only want the best for you. i promise. i'll do anything for you. can you just come back to me please? it's all me, just don't go." sukuna's truthful, "don't walk away, okay? we'll be just fine. i don't wanna lose this with you. listen to me once and not them. everyone thinks that they know us, they know nothing."

it's hard to believe that before this sukuna was that asshole who fuck and go. it's hard to believe that before you sukuna did not know how to love. how can you ever leave him when he loves you like this? this man who literally carries your groceries, he took the time to memorize you, all of you. he never left.

maybe that's why you had to give up so fast. because how deeply can you fall in love with him? you don't think can handle the pain of the things they said happening.

but after everything, he tells you that it's not your fault.

"kiss me, please."

it didn't even take a second for him to move, he let go of the hug and held your neck. he started slowly. it's like your lips are made for each other. how can they move so perfectly? you close your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

you opened your mouth letting his tongue in. his tasting you. he hadn't done this in weeks. he pulls your waist closer as he moves forward. he bites the bottom of your lip causing you to let out a moan only for him to push his tongue back in tasting every corner of your mouth.

he's craving for it. his hands traveled down your back to your ass as he rests his hands then gripping your butt cheeks. "miss you so much. you have no idea. all i can think about is your face, cunt, and your ass. i swear."

"sukuna, not here." you pull him away before he can do anything more, "let's go home first." you continue.

he smiles, cheekily, he won you at the end of the day. "ya fucked anyone when i wasn't around? your ass better makes sure no one touched you while you're wearing my dress. wearing my dress in front of these men with micro-sized dicks."

he knows though, even if you don't answer, he knows already. he knows that you wouldn't touch anyone other than him.

"oh, by the way, how do you plan on making up with me? you did break my heart. should i tie you up and blindfold you?" he stops, "or no, should i make you ride me till the morning? that sounds better does it?" he continues, "strip tease sounds nice though. face sitting also is nice, we don't do that often."

this man is a menace. his making a decision like his life depended on it.

"ahh fuck it." he grins, "doll face, i've made up my mind. let's do all of them hmm."

#Nanami: i'm not the step father i'm the father that stepped up

yes, i have a girlfriend, and yes, she's real!

PAIRING: gamer!gojo x reader.

SYNOPSIS: what happens when your gamer boyfriend brings you on-screen?

CONTENTS: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns + reader is referred to as gojo's girlfriend. toji slander bcs he deserves it. really short LMAO. you guys rly thought i'd have enough motivation to write a whole oneshot on gamer!gojo (you thought wrong).

"oh, please," satoru laughs, leaning back and grinning at the screen in front of him. he tosses his hair, but it falls back into his eyes just seconds later. "no way you guys all thought i would lose that one. c'mon, have some faith in me!"

you watch satoru reply to the hundreds of comments lighting up the side of his monitor, smiling endearingly at the way he laughs at some and practically chortles at others.

it was only after the two of you started dating that satoru disclosed his streaming hobby, and to your surprise, he was pretty popular. thousands of people tuned in to watch him play some game or another every night, and well, it paid better than you'd expect.

satoru whistles, hands resting comfortably behind his head as a particular question catches his attention. "ah, do i have a girlfriend?" he muses, grinning as he shoots a quick side-glance at you. "yeah," he continues, snorting when what looks like a flurry of no fucking way's flood the chat.

he clicks his tongue disappointedly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "what, did all eight thousand of you think i couldn't pull? thanks a lot," satoru deadpans, waving his hand and sighing dramatically. "i don't know what any of you mean. i'm a catch!"

you snicker at that, and your laughter only increases when satoru turns and gapes at you. he juts his bottom lip out, face sinking into an adorable pout at he crosses his arms. "even my own girlfriend's laughing at me," he mumbles petulantly. "hmph!"

satoru sticks his tongue out at you childishly, and you blow a kiss back. he pretends to faint before turning back to his monitor, quickly skimming the comments before he gasps. "what do you mean, she probably doesn't exist?!" he sputters, clutching his heart exaggeratedly.

the look on his face is priceless — imagine getting told by thousands of people that one, they think you can't pull, and two, that they don't even believe your significant other exists. naturally, satoru reacts as dramatically as ever. he pretends to ignore everyone in the comments before calling them out individually.

"oh, i see you, toji... fishy-guru," satoru gripes, wagging his finger at his screen. "my girlfriend exists and she's mine! don't even think about it." he pauses, squinting at the chat before correcting himself with an eyeroll. "fushiguro. whatever. either way, she's real and she's all mine."

satoru swivels his chair to face you, making an incredulous face as he gestures to the screen. "can you believe this?" he grumbles, ocean-blue eyes focused on you. "these guys don't think you're real."

you shrug, toying with the corner of his sheets as you smile back at satoru. he's so childish, but that's just one of the many things you adore about him. sure, he's an annoying brat, but at least he's a total sweetheart too.

your boyfriend extends his hand, beckoning you to come over to him. "c'mon, darling," he cooes, scrunching up his nose at you. "wanna help me prove these losers wrong?" satoru mouths please, and the puppy eyes he gives you are cute enough to convince you.

so you hop off his bed, running a hand through your hair as you stroll over to where he sits in front of his monitor. beaming like a kid on his birthday, satoru takes your hand and twines his fingers with yours.

smiling smugly, satoru pulls you on screen and into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. you watch the chat erupt with she's real's and how did he pull a girl like her's and smile, flicking satoru's forehead affectionately.

he ignores the thousands of dumbstruck users in his comments and holds you close to his chest, adjusting his grip on your waist to make his lap as comfortable as possible for you. satoru's adoring eyes are fixed on you, only you, even as his chat explodes.

suguru-geto: haha i already knew

toji-fushiguro: how the fuck did a loser like him pull her?

yuuji-itad0ri: gojo has a girlfriend??? what did i miss??

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the writing motivation came out of nowhere whaat

was thinking about lovesick teenage gojo

lovesick!teen!gojo x teen!reader fluff?

Satoru would probably be so in-love with you that he'd try every day to impress you. I feel like he'd be so focused on impressing you that even poor Shoko and Suguru would be tired of it but would help him nonetheless.

Satoru would take any chance to hang out with you. and I mean any. that one time Shoko asked you to come to the arcade with her and Suguru? Satoru begged her to let him go too.

Satoru just practically wants you to compliment him all the time. he's so happy when you actually compliment him. he'll cling to you and hug you and thank you over and over again.

When Satoru goes on a mission, he sets everyone else on 'do not disturb' but you. he's responded to you immediately on several occasions, all of which you had no idea he was on a mission. he got scolded for that by Yaga when he returned.

Satoru buys you everything. he doesn't care if you say he shouldn't be spending that much money- he'd gladly spend all of it on you. if you look at something longer than usual, he'd make a mental note to buy it later.

Satoru loves teasing you. sometimes he teases you in hopes of seeing your flustered face. even though he knows he'll have to take a whole damn minute to compose himself again. you drive him insane sometimes.

Satoru sometimes walks slowly, lagging behind the others purposely just so you can drag him back, holding his hand. and sometimes if he can muster up the courage, he'll refuse to let go when you let go, which results in the two of you holding hands the rest of the way.

Satoru texts you and asks to come over on rainy days sometimes, just because it means he'll be stuck with you. he just loves spending time with you in general.

Satoru gets jealous but would probably deny him ever getting jealous, even if he how he acts contradicts what he says. Suguru would give him this 'really?' look and Shoko would probably be done with the mutual pining that's been going on for several months.

was planning to write this last night but I got sidetracked so I ended up writing this today, just before going to a friend's birthday party.

feel free to let me know how it was and if there are things needed to be fixed.

THE WOES OF A JEALOUS FISH. octatrio

Characters: GN! Reader | Azul Ashengrotto x Reader, Jade Leech x Reader, Floyd Leech x Reader

Tags: Octatrio and jealousy, Pure fluff w/ very petty boys, Reader wears makeup in Azul's part, Jade blows a hairdryer in Floyd's face, Malewife Floyd

WordCount: 1.5k+ | 💌Masterlist

A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO :

Azul blinks once, twice as he stares at the merman who was animatedly conversing with you. Rielle, Azul's old schoolmate, a prince of Atlantica, and the owner of this wretched cafe called 'The Secret Grotto'. The same cafe you've been ogling at for the last 20 minutes or so.

"Isn't this place amazing, Azul?! They even have a souvenir shop!" Now, Azul would normally find your eagerness adorable since seeing you happy was oh-so precious and priceless to him. However, this time, your enthusiasm made his heart sink while his mood deteriorated. On the surface, however, he keeps his calm and maintains his professional businessman persona, or at least he tries to.

"Monstro Lounge is far more superior. I mean...th-their cutlery doesn't even match their tablecloths here." Azul blurted out, crossing his arms over his chest and scrutinising the area intently.

"Well, we wanted to add a little bit of uniqueness! My cafe is all about personal touches, we focus more on making things look cozy!" Rielle chimes in, all bright and charming, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Azul narrowed his eyes, his hands itching to sever the prince's arm for touching you. Oblivious to Azul's ire, you stared at the cafe in awe, pointing out the small touches thrown about here and there.

Azul frowns, sulking and wanting to leave. He wanted to leave the moment he stepped into this place but he didn't have the heart to tear you away from the cozy small cafe. Especially since you were looking forward to this date for weeks, you even got Vil to doll you up and do your makeup today.

Deep down inside he felt a tinge of insecurity because he knew you were right. The cafe really was amazing. The grove was lit up with warm lighting, and everywhere you looked was all soft and homely. Unlike Azul's cafe, this place was much less formal making it seem more down to earth.

Perhaps he should make a few tweaks to Monstro Lounge? Just to fit your tastes?

"Angelfish, I'd hate to break it to you but it's getting rather late. I'm sure Jade and Floyd are already waiting for us back at the dorms." Azul cuts in nonchalantly, a cool smile on his face. You turned to gaze out the window, seeing the sunset and the sky darkening. You nod and swiftly seize Azul's gloved hand in your own, bidding Rielle goodbye.

"Ah, I see it really is getting quite late! Feel free to visit soon!" Rielle bids you goodbye with those words, as you and Azul walk out of the quaint little cafe.

Once outside, Azul reflexively rests his hand on the small of your back, and you lean in, your head resting on his chest. It was silent for a while, both of you just enjoying the comfortable silence before Azul pulled you into an alley.

"Azul? Is something wrong-" He abruptly interrupted you and smashed his lips against yours. Azul backed you up against the wall, his hands finding purchase around your waist as you snake your arms around his neck. Minutes pass before he finally draws back and presses his forehead to yours, a heavy flush on his cheeks. You took this time to admire his dishevelled appearance, which was quite a rare sight. His glasses were crooked, the lipstick Vil picked out for you was smeared across his lips, and his vision was dazed.

"Angelfish...wouldn't you rather spend time with me instead...?"

J.L | JADE LEECH :

He's in absolute denial.

Jealousy. What use would such petty and trivial emotion as jealousy serve? Jade already knew you were bound to him. Despite his distant and cold demeanour, you somehow pushed your way into his heart and fashioned yourself a nice little home.

Furthermore, Jade liked to consider himself as someone who was rational and level-headed. He was always in full command of every situation he was put in. The eel was cruel, merciless, and uncompromising. Him getting jealous? Jade Leech, jealous? It was a laughable thought.

Nonetheless, as he stood behind the lounge's bar, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart while he glared holes into the back of Floyd's head. His gloved hands were grasping onto a teacup a little too tightly. He was supposed to serve you tea.

Tea, that he brewed and prepared personally for you, ensuring that each step was meticulous and precise so that the drink was properly suited to your preferences. You, his precious pearl, who was too preoccupied running your fingers through his brother's hair.

The lounge's air conditioning had broken down, and at some point, Floyd apparently decided that it was far too hot and dumped an entire cold smoothie over his head. Now, you were fussing over the eel's damp hair, trying to get the liquid and chunks of fruit out of his locs.

Crack! Jade looked down to see the cup split in half, the warm tea he prepared for you now spilling onto the floor. Azul would've probably had his hind if he found out the eel broke such an expensive and delicate piece of china. Despite that, he had a much pressing issue to focus on. Jade's inexhaustible patience had finally run out, and he concluded that enough was enough.

He quickly poured you a new cup and walked up to the booth you were sitting in. He held a hair dryer in his left hand and the tea he had carefully made for you in his right. Finally, you had stopped fretting over Floyd and instead focused your attention on him. When you spotted him approaching, your face lit up. A smile grazed his lips for a brief moment. How lovely you were.

"Darling, why don't you take a break. Here, it's your favorite. Let me handle this." Jade murmured, running a gloved hand along your cheek. You leaned towards his touch, smiling, and took the cup from him. "Thank you, Jade. I managed to get most of the fruits out but his hair is still so wet."

"Not to worry my pearl, this isn't the first time this happened." With a chuckle, Jade plugged in the hair dryer and grabbed Floyd's chin, forcing his brother to face him.

"Now...allow let me help you, brother dearest." Jade muttered, the corner of his eyes crinkling as a sharp grin spread across his face. He set the dryer to the highest setting and directed it straight at Floyd's face. When the heavy gust of wind hit Floyd, the eel clamped his eyes tight. He whined and attempted to push Jade away, but the latter just refused to let go.

Yes, Jade is most definitely not a jealous man.

F.L | FLOYD LEECH :

That should have been him. The eel glared at Grim who was seated in your lap. Your lap that he loved so much. Your lap that he used as a pillow every time he was slacking off at Monstro Lounge. Your lap that was supposed to be for him, not that skrunkly little cat.

To make matters worse, you were currently feeding Grim some tuna you cooked up yourself. Oh, the nightmare.

The reason? Grim had recently scored a perfect score on his exam without cheating this time! and you wanted to reward your companion for his efforts. Still, Floyd couldn't understand why you had to feed him. Isn't the baby seal big enough to feed himself? He was pretty sure he saw Grim inhale an entire tray full of food in seconds!

Growling, Floyd stomped towards your table and plopped down beside you. He huffed and started side-eyeing the cat who was dozing off and slowly chewing the tuna in his mouth. To Floyd's despair, you were much too preoccupied with fawning and cooing at the tiny brat to notice your moody lover. This was absolutely unacceptable. He demanded your attention.

"Shrimppyyy..." Floyd whined, smushing his cheek against yours, basically asking for attention. Taken aback, you jumped and whipped your head around to face him, finally acknowledging his presence.

"Floyd! How are you? How'd that test with Crewel go?" You smiled at him and moved in to peck both of his cheeks. This made him brighten up for a bit before Grim interrupted the moment.

"Oi, henchhuman, I'm out of tuna here." Grim drawled, patting his paws along your arms. Sighing, you picked up your utensil and turned away from Floyd. However, before you could bring the spoon anywhere near the container with Grim's food, Floyd's hand snatched the utensil away from you.

"Floyd, what are you-" You were cut off when he pushed a bento box towards you.

"Shrimpyy~ You gotta eat! I cooked that myself y'know." He beamed at you, draping his long arms over your shoulders. You opened the lid and gasped at contents of the meal inside. Floyd had made a Butter Salmon Bento, and you'd be damned if you didn't think it looked good. "Floyd, this is incredible...thank you very much!"

"Of course~ Here, I'll handle the baby seal for you." Before you could even say anything, he snatched Grim from your lap and tossed the cat onto the table in front of him.

"I'll even feed him for you!" Floyd laughed and took some tuna, pressing it forcefully on Grim's mouth. Grim, understandably, was reluctant to open his mouth. Floyd, on the other hand, was not about to give up so easily.

The eel hummed and leaned forward, gritting his sharp teeth as a deranged smile grew across his face.

"What's wrong baby seal? Eat it." Floyd hissed, malice oozing from his lips. Grim flinched and decided to just bolt, taking the tuna with him. "Like hell I'm doing that!"

Grim scutters away as you watch with a sheepish smile on your face. Floyd laughed contentedly and sprawled across your lap, staring up at you in adoration, his mission finally accomplished.

"Hehe~ Will you feed me next, shrimppy~?"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

📂 𝐑𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

↳ 📂 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Post-divorce, Exes-to-Lovers, Miguel being a bitch in the beginning but slowly softening up, mentions of flings.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In your complex web of your shared history, you and Miguel, your ex-husband and co-worker, struggle to communicate without clashing your professional and personal lives. However, an unexpected moment sparks a longing between the two of you. Despite the tension, a shared moment reveals unspoken desires and deep secrets.

You felt your mouth and throat becoming increasingly dry as each second passed and you couldn’t moisten it no matter how many times you swallowed. Your eyes have been burning since this morning from staring at the screen for so long but you had to get the reports done by the end of the day. You watched Miguel, your colleague and ex, with his sharp gaze fixated on the proposal titled ‘Enhanced Genetic Therapy for Tissue Regeneration’ you’ve just submitted to him, scrutinising every word written inside the file. His office and lab was located in the heart of Alchemax’s research facility, a place where genetic breakthroughs were made. But now the once-familiar corridors and labs became a bore to your awkward encounters and tense silence since your divorce. Despite the passing of time, working with Miguel had never grown any easier.

Time felt slower as you waited for him to finish reading. Minutes felt like hours and the silence that surrounded you was almost suffocating. Finally, just when you thought you weren't going to hold back any longer, he spoke up, voice controlled and assertive which cut through the stiffness in the room.

“You know this quality of work is inadequate from you.” He chided, dumping the file back in front of you dismissively. His words reverberated in your ribcage and made your skin crawl. If you weren’t in a professional setting right now, you would’ve thrown every curse word at him and telling him how you’ve worked tooth and nail all day on the reports only for him to have the audacity to just dismiss it like it was nothing. But instead you gulped, shoving the vulgar words down your throat and reached for the files on the desk. He still held his gaze as he waited for a response from you.

“Sorry…” you sighed, holding the files against your chest. “It'll be better next time.” Your tone had a hint of bitterness to it that you couldn’t hide from him. For a fleeting moment, you glimpsed something in his gaze - a flicker of what used to be. But it quickly disappeared and was replaced with his usual mask of professionalism. Miguel had always been assertive, even during your marriage. It was hard to tell if he was using that assertiveness as a reason to be firm with you now, or if he was still bitter about the divorce. With a brief nod, you turned and left the room. As you were reaching for the exit you caught a snarky remark from him, it was quiet but you still heard it perfectly.

“Yeah… sure it will.” He muttered before turning his back towards you, now completely blocking you off from his peripheral vision. The weight of the encounter still lingered as you made your way back to your own cubicle. To make matters worse, your work space was not too far from Miguel’s, so he had the perfect view of you and could watch you whenever he wanted. Even as you would have your back towards him, his piercing stare was still palpable, like blades on your bare skin. As you reached your workspace, you slumped down on your chair and set down the file on the desk. You turned on your computer monitor and opened up the documents again, your eyes stinging from the screen. As you focused on perfecting your papers, the familiar measured footsteps with confident stride drew closer towards your cubicle. You turned to see Miguel, leaning on the frame of your cubicle with two mugs in his hand.

“I got your coffee too.” He simply stated as he placed the mug on your desk.

“Huh? Oh…Thanks.” The gesture caught you off guard, especially when he was scolding you for your work just a few moments ago. Nevertheless you took the mug. You took a few sips from the hot beverage and felt the warmth down your throat. Drinking coffee on an empty stomach was probably not the best idea. You could feel the liquid settling in the lower pit of your stomach with the bitter taste on your tongue but that wasn’t your main concern. Your eyes were still sore and dry making you rub them repeatedly. It didn’t help that you were developing a headache too from the prolonged screen time. Miguel was still standing on the edge of your cubicle, watching as you tried to sooth your dry eyes.

“You okay?” He asked, the coldness in his tone wasn’t there this time.

“Fine-” you replied, your tone was abrupt as you turned back to your work again, hoping he’d get the hint. You weren’t in the mood to hear anymore criticism from him.

“You’re not fine…don’t lie to me.” He leaned on the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, his mug still in one of his hands. His eyes were now drawn to your monitor screen, reading over and analysing the open document.

“Maybe not. Why does it matter?” You mumbled, still not facing him as you talked and hoping he would leave you alone. You really didn’t want to deal with him in your work space especially with the throbbing headache you had. Even the fluorescent lighting felt like it was screaming at you.

“‘Why?’” He sighed and you knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance like he always did. “Because we work at the same place and see each other every day. Plus, what’s wrong with checking up on my colleagues?”

“I thought by now you would at least try to ignore my presence or pretend I’m not here.”

“Do you really think I could ignore you when you’re only a few cubicles away from me? C’mon now.”

“I could.” That was a damn lie. Everyday you could always feel his presence like a dark shadow of your history looming over you. The tangled mess of your past was impossible to escape. As much as you wanted to move on, it seemed that your past will forever haunt your professional lives.

“Do you know what your problem is?” You didn’t question him further but could hear him stepping fully inside you the cubicle now as he spoke. You knew he was going to answer his own question anyways. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, listening intently to your interaction and recognising the gravity of the situation. “You expect too much, especially from me.”

“Sorry?!” Your voice almost came out as a screech as you finally turned your chair to face him, you scrunch your face in both shock and disgust. It was ironic hearing that from him of all people. But if this was how he felt about you, you suspected that was the reason why he had ridiculously high expectations of you. His eyes fell on you again, amused by your sudden change of tone.

“You expect me to ignore you completely. You want me to forget about you and treat you with disdain and hatred.” He let out a dark chuckle and took a sip from his coffee before he spoke again. “That was never going to happen.” He looked back at the screen again but you held your gaze at him, now feeling a little perplexing. You never said anything about hatred - sure you ended your marriage on a bad note but there was no point hating each other. You rather treat each other as colleagues with no history between the two of you just to keep things civil.

“Not hatred, I never said anything about that. Just act like our marriage never happened.” You told him, making him chuckle again, his tone was starting to sound a little condescending and you were now realising how unreasonable your expectations were.

“I can’t just forget we were once married….we were together for five years.”

“Yeah and then we got a divorce after. Who’s fault was that?” The last sentence came out more hostile than you intended but you still hoped you got your message across.

“Mine.” He stated, his voice low and tinged with regret. It was a single syllable but it still shook the stillness in the air, like a boulder being dropped in a stagnant pond and sending ripples of emotions that melted away the tension in the room. “…mine for not being the man you deserved.” He continued.

“At least you’re self aware.” You said dismissively, hoping that was the end of the conversation. You didn’t want to revisit your broken marriage, especially with your headache throbbing more now.

“Mhm...doesn't make it hurt any less though.” He mumbled as he took another sip from his mug, hoping you didn’t hear.

“What was that?” He didn’t repeat himself but his silence and the falter in his expression behind the mug spoke volume.

Your eyes met his and for a moment, a rush of memories unraveled in your mind. You remembered the man you fell in love with, the one who captivated your heart and vowed to protect you till his last breath. But somewhere along the way of your marriage, his unwavering commitment to his job overshadowed your relationship. Your marriage was on its last legs before it crumbled. A pang of sadness washed over you as you wondered how things would’ve been different if he struck a better balance between his career and your relationship. That little bit of love you still harbored for him made you ache for what could have been.

“It does hurt sometimes, you know.” You admitted, averting your gaze away in shame.

“Hm?” He hummed inquisitively, tilting his head in curiosity at what you’ve just said before continuing. “It must be hard for you…”

There was a hint of regret that settled in your mind. It was minimal but just enough to make you wonder that, just maybe, you had been too hasty in making the final decision.

“Look, I know the main reason for our divorce was because I didn’t feel valued and you were more focused on work but…sometimes I feel like I was a little hard on you and I didn’t give you a chance to redeem yourself. Sorry that sounds pathetic…” As you spoke to admit your feeling, it felt like you were reopening a jaded door that was long closed.

“Do you want to hear something more pathetic?” Miguel asked, walking up to you and crouching down so he could look up at you, all while you remained seated on the chair. The change of position made your heart stutter and the air in the cubicle seemed to be amplified now. “The reason I was so focused on work was because I was scared to lose you. I thought if you saw who I truly was, you’d leave me. And focusing more on work, I thought it was a way of protecting myself from that.”

“Miggy…” your voice softened as you placed your hand on his shoulder, something you never thought you’d see yourself do again. You couldn’t help but notice the sudden change of his demeanor after you uttered that endearing nickname. For a moment, you saw the hint of nostalgia in his gaze that unlocked a hidden compartment in your shared history. “I married you for a reason. Before things were complicated between us, I was head over heels for you. I knew you meant well but I wish you told me about this earlier.” You said, making him sigh quietly and nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry, you deserve better. The worst part is that I was so afraid to lose you yet I ended up losing you anyway because I was so focused on my damn work.” It was your turn to let out a somber sigh. “But…I do hope you’re doing well now. Are you?” He looked up at you, his brown eyes glistening with a hint of crimson under the lighting and waiting for your response.

“You could say that. But I do miss you before you were so engrossed in your work.” You chuckled as if that wasn’t obvious by now after you just admitted your deeper feelings.

“I miss us too. But I guessed you moved on…do you have anyone now?”

“Nothing but flings here and there.” You admitted sheepishly. You caught the slight twitch in Miguel’s jaw after hearing you say that. You could've sworn you saw specks of red in his iris overshadowed the warm brown hue. The sight sent a cold shiver up your spine. “They were just to get my mind off of things. But everytime I would end up missing your touch even more.” You added quickly. It wasn’t a lie. All those one-night stands were nothing other than stress relievers and it would never be as sensual and passionate as what you experienced with Miguel. You heard him chuckle in amusement.

“They couldn’t compare, huh?” He teased, a smirk tugged on his lips. “I’ve missed your touch too…when I think of you being with someone else, it hurts like hell.” There was pain wovened in his voice as he said that last sentence but you couldn’t blame him when you felt the same.

“Me too…I’d get a little jealous thinking that you’d treat another woman better, the way I desperately wanted to be treated.” You gulped. The image of Miguel making another woman happy made you chest clench even though you fully knew you shouldn’t feel like this when you were the one that initiated the divorce.

“Treat another woman better?” Miguel echoed in solemn. “You have no idea how much I regret treating you the way I did. It haunts me to this day.” From the look of his eyes, you knew he was being sincere and you could feel the raw emotions emanating from him. You remembered the moments you felt neglected and unappreciated but now after hearing Miguel’s confession, you couldn’t help but wonder if he had felt just as lost as you did.

“So… what do you want to do now?” You asked, the question hung in the air between the two of you. The query was loaded with possibilities that could redefine your future together.

“Now? Well…I really wish I knew but I know I don’t want to move on from this. I want to try again with you.” Miguel's gaze was now fixated on yours, desperately trying to read your face.

“How about we start with this.” You smiled, wheeling your chair a little closer towards him. “Are you free Friday night?” Miguel’s eyes blinked rapidly in surprise, clearly not expecting things to move this fast.

“Oh uhm yeah…wanna grab dinner maybe?” Your heart was pounding in your chest in euphoria and you couldn’t help the grin that grew on your lips.

“Yeah I’d love that.”

“Great, I’ll find us a place then and I’ll let you know the details.” Miguel beamed as he got up from his knees.

“Perfect. I can't wait.” You wheeled your chair back as you spoke.

“Me neither, hermosa...”

God, you missed that smile.

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{{Part 2}}

🍰 demented devotions & dark chocolate cake

— ꒰ pairings ꒱ : m.draconia x reader x r.flamme in the moonlit garden, rollo stumbles upon you and malleus in the midst of a slow dance. malleus doesn't like how rollo is being so touchy with you and promptly drags you away. — ꒰ warnings / tag ꒱ : obsessive behavior (rollo), possessiveness, slight power dynamics, soft yandere, rollo calls you 'my lamb', twinge of religious themes because it is rollo event masterlist

NOBLE BELL COLLEGE, bathed in the gentle light of the moon, was a breathtaking sight. The buildings, reminiscent of sanctuaries with their time-worn stone walls, bore intricate carvings that appeared to come alive in the ethereal glow of night. Every archway and pillar whispered stories from the past. The bell towers stood as dark silhouettes against the starry canvas of the night sky, and each chime of the bells echoed through the entirety of the campus.

For Rollo, it had become a nightly custom to wander through the college gardens, a torch in hand, casting light upon his path. The garden provided him with a haven away from the cold, austere chambers of his dormitory.

As he strolled along the cobblestone pathways, the moonlight cast elongated shadows from the trees, while the warm torchlight bathed the surroundings in an almost magical ambiance. However, even in this tranquil setting, memories of a recent festival continued to plague him. The festival began with promise, a colorful whirlwind of music and laughter, but unsurprisingly, it swiftly descended into chaos. And yet, among these memories, your presence stood out as a bright spot amid the less pleasant recollections.

Your hair, like the finest silk, would sway gracefully when caressed by the breeze, and the sparkle in your eyes resembled stardust. However, what had left an indelible mark on Rollo's memory was the scarf that clung to your neck.

Rollo's fingers gently brushed against the soft fabric of that very scarf tucked in his pocket, and a wistful smile played upon his lips. Pulling it out, he pressed the scarf to his face, captivated by the lingering scent that still held traces of your presence. Ah, he could vividly recall how the scarf's color complimented your eyes. You had left it behind by the bell tower that day, and he had stumbled upon it. Although he had intended to return it to you, his search for you had proven fruitless.

No matter, he thought to himself, pocketing the purple fabric, he was certain he would find you sometime during the week.

Suddenly, distant sounds of laughter reached Rollo's ears. The alluring and familiar sound called out to him, and he couldn't resist its pull. Step by step, he followed it, drawing nearer with each move. As he cautiously peeked around the corner of an academic building, his heart sank upon witnessing the scene before him.

Your lips bore a wide, giddy grin as you were swept up in Malleus Draconia's embrace, twirling gracefully in a delicate dance. The fae's lips barely brushed your cheek, a subtle smile gracing his features. The enchanting dance held you both captive in a world of your own, oblivious to your surroundings.

"Heavens," Rollo grimaced, torn between watching the spectacle and turning away. The sight of Malleus pressing a kiss to the side of your neck only deepened his disapproval.

Brazen, lewd, and odious. It was a vile, depraved display.

Unable to watch anymore, Rollo cleared his throat and stepped out of the shadows, shattering the enchantment that had held you both in the dance's spell.

"There is a strict rule on public display at Noble Bell College, one that I had hoped you were aware of," he called out, his tone firm and disapproving.

In that moment, your eyes widened in realization, and you hastily pulled away from Malleus's embrace. Rollo couldn't help but smirk inwardly at the faint frown that momentarily marred the fae's face.

Embarrassment lined your features as you ran a hand through your wind-tousled hair, gesturing with the other, voicing your remorse for breaking such a basic rule.

"I will overlook this transgression for now," Rollo assured as he advanced toward you. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, and you tensed at his touch, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of red. As you instinctively started to pull away, his hold on your chin remained firm, coaxing your gaze back to his.

Rollo extended his torch closer to you, wishing to see your features more clearly. The flames danced perilously near, a few errant sparks floating in the air, almost singing the tips of your hair and the lapels of your coat. He observed your reactions with an amused smile, enjoying your wariness as you wrinkled your nose at the acrid scent of smoke.

Cute.

Rollo then leaned in closer, the flickering torchlight casting intriguing shadows across his face. His voice dropped to a low, confidential murmur, mindful of the fae hovering over you two.

"What a delicate soul you are," Rollo whispered, his intense crimson gaze locked on yours. "It's rare to see someone like you, tainted by the presence of magic, and yet somehow, still… pure despite it all." His words hung in the night air, a puzzle in his eyes, as if he were unraveling a secret you weren't even aware of.

"Pure?" you blinked, tilting your head in confusion, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean by that?"

Rollo's lips curled into a wry smile as he brushed his thumb against your cheek. "Oh, my lamb, it's a complex matter, one best left for another time. You're already dealing with plenty, especially with those miscreants at NRC. Those fools are probably driving you mad."

The endearment he used sent a warm shiver down your spine, and you felt flutters in your stomach. Your eyes nervously shifted from Rollo to the serene surroundings of the garden, the moonlight casting a soft, ethereal glow on the foliage.

Malleus, unable to stand and watch any longer, clicked his tongue disapprovingly, signaling his irritation at the unfolding situation.

Wordlessly, he positioned himself behind you, his large, possessive hand gently running up your back. Despite the seething anger within him, Malleus restrained his magical abilities, aware that any inadvertent spells or outbursts could only serve to worsen the situation. As much as he wished to unleash his fiery wrath on Flamme, that would have to be reserved for another time.

"If you'll excuse us. We have somewhere to be," Malleus murmured, his voice laced with urgency as he swiftly pulled you away from Rollo and led you out of the garden.

Unbeknownst to you, Rollo's gaze bore into Malleus with an intensity that bordered on obsession. His crimson eyes radiated an otherworldly fire, and sparks ignited at the soles of his feet. As the flames danced beneath him, the once lush and vibrant grass around him withered and turned into dry, lifeless ash. Rollo then scowled, turning his attention to the scorched ground. He pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it to his face, muttering to himself in frustration as he stepped away from the darkened earth, dusting his shoes off with an absentminded air.

"Blasted fae."

🍰 . . .

Once you were safely out of earshot and view, Malleus came to a halt and his demeanor took a shift.

"Malleus?" you murmured, looking up at him curiously. The fae didn't say a word and instead turned to face you. The moonlight cast soft shadows on his face as he suddenly knelt down before you.

With a look of reverence in his eyes, Malleus took hold of both your hands, his touch warm and tender. He began to lavish adoring kisses along your palms, wrists, and fingers, each press of his lips filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes. It was as if he were trying to convey a silent promise, a pledge to protect and cherish you.

"Mine," he whispered, his emerald eyes sparkling with an almost possessive light, his voice tinged with a sense of ownership that sent shivers down your spine.

"Mine and mine alone."

𝐎𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞

Chapter 2

|Chapter 1|

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of su*cide

Summary: Severus deals with the aftermath of you forgetting him and losing the only person he ever cared about.

Liar.

The word had fallen from your lips multiple times in the past hour. Thousands of thoughts and feelings were swirling around your mind adding to the already terrible migraine you were experiencing. You denied every potion that was brought to you. Convinced it had to of been spiked with something. Many people had stopped past the hospital wing that night to see you. None of which you knew…or rather remembered. It felt like some elaborate prank, or a horrible nightmare which you had yet to wake up from.

Poppy Pomfrey was watching you around the clock. Shooing out visitors when they got too emotional or irrationally angry. One of the men who came to see you became so caught up in his disbelief of your condition he pulled out his wand and aimed it at you. Determined to cast some type of memory charm, but before he could even utter a word he was stunned by the dark-haired man.

Severus… your supposed husband.

He occupied the hospital bed next to yours all night and stared at you intently. Even after you expressed your discomfort he didn’t leave you alone. Every few minutes or so he would utter something to himself under his breath and then hastily scratch words down onto some parchment. It was incredibly annoying. You caught wind of the mumblings here and there. They mostly seemed to be dates. A whispered “August.” or “January.” followed by writing before he stopped to resume his unassigned job as your guard dog. By the time morning came, you wanted to stab him with that quill.

Poppy was the one to finally interrupt your violent thoughts. “I’ve called for a mind healer for you dear, but unfortunately they’re insisting you spend your recovery at St. Mungo’s. I tried-”

“That’s not necessary.” Severus interjected. “She’ll be perfectly fine at our home.” He was up on his feet and gathering up his rolls of parchment. Apparently determined to leave this instant.

“Severus, I’m afraid this situation is out of our control.” She scolded in a low voice.

“Nonsense! I know what’s best for her. I’m her husband Poppy-”

“STOP SAYING THAT.” Silence fell upon the room. Both Severus and Poppy were stunned by your sudden outburst. “You’re…” you paused and swallowed thickly before allowing yourself to look up into the pitch-black eyes that were focused on you. “You’re not my husband. I-I don’t know you. No matter how many times everyone claims it to be true, it isn’t true to me.” Your voice wavered as you spoke, but you continued. Now staring at Poppy, “I’d like to go to St. Mungo’s please.”

Severus was escorted out of the room shortly afterwards, much to his dismay. He ended up storming down to the dungeons, which were mostly still intact despite the war, and into his office. He slammed the door upon entering. Glass jars and bottles tumbled to the floor as a result. He couldn’t hear the glass shattering though. All he heard was your words echoing in his mind over and over.

‘You’re not my husband.’

Severus had never been good at dealing with his emotions, but he had never lost control like this before. It felt as if the world was crumbling around him. All he could see was that disgusted look on your face every time you peered over at him from your hospital bed. All he could feel was hurt.

He fought in this war so he could finally have a future. When he was first made aware that Voldemort returned he considered suicide. He didn’t want to fight in another war. He didn’t want to be surrounded by death and destruction. There was nothing worth fighting for anymore, but then you started working at Hogwarts. You became his reason to fight.

With the war over, he planned on running off with you somewhere to some remote cottage far away from everyone. Settling down and finally creating the life you both had planned. Perhaps even starting a family. It felt like all of that had been lost now.

Severus ended up leaning against a bookshelf. His thumb and pointer finger massaging his temples as he tried to tame his headache. The only sound within the room was his heavy breathing and the occasional crunch of glass when he shuffled his feet.

He felt hollow. Like he was stuck in a cycle of grief and pain. His own thoughts holding him hostage. He didn’t focus on the situation at hand since it only made him angry. He couldn’t focus on old memories of you as they only filled him with sorrow.

Would he ever get to be with you like that again? Would he ever get to tuck a strand of your fallen hair behind your ear? Would he ever get to come up from behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pressing kisses along your neck until you finally spun around and kissed him back.

Severus let out a shaky breath as his fingers brushed over his lips. He could almost feel your lips against his. It had been less than 24 hours since he last claimed your mouth, but it felt like years.

The sound of his door creaking open paired with the crunching of glass beneath shoes pulled him from his thoughts.

“Severus…” Minerva spoke in a wary tone. When she didn’t receive a response, or even acknowledgment of her presence, she approached the hunched over man nervously. “Severus, Y/N is being transported to St. Mungo’s. Would you like to go with her?”

His grip on the bookshelf tightened. “Severus?” Minerva reached out to gently place her hand on his outstretched arm, but he quickly jerked himself away from her touch.

“Don’t.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

“Severus you should go be with your wife. She isn’t well and pouting down here in the dungeon isn’t going to do squat.”

“She hates me Minerva. There’s no point.” His arm went limp and dropped back to his side. Was this acceptance?

A swift swat to his shoulder made him finally turn to look at Minerva while he rubbed over the area where she struck him. She held up a thick leather-bound book. “Don’t make me use this again Severus.” She waved the book in his face. “I will not allow you to sit around in this filthy room and wallow in self-pity. She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t remember you, and when she does the first thing she should know is you were by her side the whole time. Not abandoning her when she needed you most.” She shoved the book into Severus’ chest, causing him to stumble a bit, and turned on her heel to exit the room.

She paused in the doorway and met him dead in the eyes before saying, “You’re not a coward Severus. So, stop acting like one.”

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

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