anaidulce

Latest Posts by anaidulce

tell your baby, that i'm your baby. (a loving family, an unpalatable desire drabble)

ft. yandere damian wayne x gn! neglected spouse reader x yandere superfam

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

this is written in regards to one of my drabbles, i can't help but sigh at just how good the angst is for damian in this series.

because in loving family, unpalatable desire, you pretty much exclusively nickname him "dami, baby," from day one right after meeting him. you say it not in a way that you wish to overstep your boundaries at simply being his stepparent - you're aware, despite the ache in your chest admitting it, that you'll never come quite close to talia's standing in his heart, it's simply impossible with how she raised him her entire life before being dropped off in bruce's care - but because you find the boy adorable if you look past his intent at trying to murder you at every passing glance.

or maybe it's just you trying to cope with the pain of your situation, that you consider them all your beloved children, yet never being once called their parent throughout your entire marriage that breaks apart the illusion of a happy home life, that this wasn't the marriage you wanted at all; that you'll never bear a time in your life stuck in the manor seeing their genuine smiles directed at you even if you attempt to approach as patiently as possible in hopes your presence might be accepted— even if it results in awkward laughs at your cringy jokes at the dinner table, or one of damian's weapons nearly plunging the side of your head.

maybe, it's such a struggle to keep the flicker of light alive in your body whenever all your hardships fail, and all throughout you find your husband with lipstick stains all over his white collar every time he comes home that your mind forces itself to believe that with enough trial and error, maybe one of them could eventually tolerate, rather than pity you.

unfortunately, you chose damian, the one who you're convinced arguably despises you the most, of all people living or visiting the manor to run the test.

so in all the instances you chirp out his nickname, so fondly, so eminently heard across the walls of the manor, even in the spacious expanse of the gardens could your voice be heard from miles away, all because you wish to bond with him, praising his artworks with your grating voice, to give him intricate gifts you know will be discarded in the trash in front of you; you'll be met with a stubborn glare and mean comments about how he'll never consider you his parent, to relinquish your delusions at thinking he'll even let you past his walls, and how he'll never follow through the orders of a scum like you.

which is what you're forced to deal with every single day, coupled with harsh reminders of their happiness without the need for your presence beside them.

sometimes, his reactions could be his typical harsh comments, you've grown accustomed enough to differentiate what is harmless and what borders on violence; it's enough to know when to stop bothering him despite your best efforts. other times, it would be as intense as running a sword through the strands of your hair until he chops it at the end with a threat to cut off your tongue right after if you dare call him that putrid nickname again that cuts deeper than any wound.

with every trial of becoming closer to him, results in an even widening crack in your relationship with the young boy. and eventually, with enough sighs under your breath and harsh glares from him, you'll come into terms that you'll never form a cordial bond with the young boy. it's just impossible with how he views you, sheltered and undeserving because of your family's reputation of being money laundering scum.

at that period of time, you instead chose to strengthen your relationship with the reporter who saved you one day from the paparazzi's cruel interviews, the cute man from the daily planet whose name is clark kent with an even more adorable son, jon, who welcomed you with open arms and a tight hug on your stomach, muttering about how he's so excited to meet his new parent, just when you first stepped on the doors of your affair partner's home; that was enough to relinquish any anguish you felt at the manor replaced with absolute joy at what seems to be the first time you're considered the parent, part of a family, in a completely different household.

it helps erase the shadow of doubt that you may be cursed to never be accepted into an established family with just how bright, how comparable jon was to an overexcitable golden retriever, bonding with you since day one unlike all the other insufferable moments crammed into a jam-packed dinner table— only for your voice to be discarded and overpowered by others.

you start to call him your baby instead, completely in awe at the cute freckles littering his sun-kissed skin and the country boy accent he adopted from his dad. you couldn't help but hold his cheeks in your palms and kiss all over his face whilst you kneel to his level, laughing along with the giggles erupting from his throat that creates this harmonious melody in clark's ears, who watches you scoop the boy into your arms just to swing him back and forth in cuteness aggression, just how it always should've been with you.

clark pictures the moment together, capturing jon's smooshed face shadowed by your hair whilst you look at his, no, your son with inexplicable joy, eyes crinkled and shining brightly under the halo of the sunset.

and clark doesn't even have to see just much jon loves and cherishes you at first glance.

he wouldn't even dare compare you to his late mother, never once calling you a replacement or a homewrecker, placing you upon a pedestal you deserve to be instead; because let's face it, you simply live in the manor, but your true home is where clark and jon, and ma and pa kent are at. pictures of your little family are framed in your shared bedroom for you to graze your finger upon whenever you wish to reminisce the blessings bestowed upon meeting your affair partner at just by chance.

but you shouldn't have forgotten about damian that quickly, not when jon all-too suddenly shoves that photo of you in his wallet in front of his face, it made damian's mind go off in a tangent, in both curiosity and frustated yet unstated interrogations at your sudden disappearance (your grating voice don't call out to him anymore, and suddenly, the manor is quieter; he despises that feeling of emptiness more than he does of your nickname for him) then reappearance as jon's, funny, hah—!

jon's parent.

and in moments of careful investigation does he realize—

when you're with jon, his best friend, when he spies in on you at the little farm you now live in, currently alone with someone whom you call your true son, that he comes to realize just how much that nickname means so much to him, as your voice, with that soft tone, scold his friend with that familiar warmth you always used to direct at him with the softest of gaze, an angel unlike the sea of rich bastards he meets at the galas who only communicate with him to form connections, advantages by being associated with a family of the wayne's.

it's only when you're stripped away from him that he realizes how much he relishes your sweet occupancy into his heart, how there's always been an unbidden, forbidden chamber in his heart that beats for the love you offer him that was unlike the harsh environment he was born in.

he's never been adorned with such a delicate title that portrays him the opposite of what he's raised to be; damian has always been the blood son, son of the bat and heir to the demon king's throne, but never something as fond, as unforeseen as someone's baby.

it just thwarts the spark of hope in his heart and extends the lump in his throat at the scene that plays before him, the loving nickname you oh-so carefully address him now relinquished and graced to another boy, his friend no less— who you considered yours, who he's aware is way more deserving of being called your baby rather than him, who had always denied you from the very start.

"jon, baby, you help me clean the windows tomorrow, alright, young man? it's stained with all your fingerprints!" you scold him as assertively as you can, kneeling down to his level and pinching his cheeks all while grinning at the boy. jon retorts with a tongue out his lips and a scrunch of his nose. it garners a laugh from you, one damian swore he's never heard sounded so desirable until now.

why are you calling jon your baby?

"not my fault, mom/dad! i get so excited to see you come home every time you have to return there!" damian seethes at the scene of jon's pouting and puppy-eyes looking up at you, that should've been him.

"can't you just stay here? forever?"

damian despises how he engraves the melody of your laughter in reply to jon's words, right into his eardrums, but omits the disgustingly sweet chirp in your voice calling jon, not him, your baby. his mind nips away at the memories at all the moments you addressed him too, and how he always rejected and corrected you to call him by his name like a proper person rather than a maniac pushing themself into his life.

he doesn't want to ever hear you address him, if it means it's not by his nickname that you now call jon.

damian couldn't even deny how the huge grin that stretches across your face at the sight of his best friend scalds him with bitterness, he wasn't even aware you're capable of such enjoyment, not when back at the manor your hesitant with even displaying a tinge of happiness— as if you're capable of doing so, not when he knows he's one of the main contributors for being the reason of your current affair.

and yet he wishes he could lie and say he didn't miss it, miss your expectant stare at him, the contrast of talia's comfort compared to yours, when the hugs you offer him, the gifts carefully curated to his preferences, the palpable love that never once wavered for your family that you could never call yours, they all seem like a distant dream now that you're away from them; from him.

it hurts watching you two communicate even further, for once it's him in the background watching like an outsider instead of you. for once, he understands what isolation feels like, what foreboding desires fester deep into his scarred soul that could only be cured with one of the softest cuddly hugs, the sweetest, flutter of your lashes as you stare oh-so fondly at jon like he meant the world to you, like it was only the two of you in the world embracing the light filtering through the windows, side by side, inseparable.

if there was one wish he could conjure, a desire he was trained to forfeit himself to feel that creeps its way into the depths of his guarded heart— it's that once you put jon into bed - even if it takes hours, even his heart feels like it's being squeezed out of blood watching your nightly, affectionate routine with jon; reading him bedtime stories, eating together, laughing lightly at the dinner table while you feed him your share of the plate, moments he never thought he felt compelled to spend with you - once he strikes at the perfect opportunity to talk to you, to confront your blunder of choosing them over him, of his woes towards your relationship—

he wishes, with unceasing faith, that you still love him enough to call him your baby once more.

a/n: let this blow up and i might just actually fix my schedule to give more updates. anyways, more damian wayne and jon kent content! one of my fave runs is with supersons and i love fluff paired with angst too so this is a win-win. pls leave in some comments about this series, since ngl i didn't give it as much love as i did for a&a 😭 so yes! mitski inspired chapter with more conflicting feelings. i'm still working around writer's block but everyone's undying support helps motivate me a lot!!!

taglist:

@starrydollita, @vellichorandhiraeth, @chericia, @queenofspades403, @naina326, @neerathebrightstar, @lilyalone, @sweetconnoisseurgardener, @nickey-diano, @tsuniio, @ssak-i, @kore-of-the-underworld, @lollipoppersposts, @peptox, @kdjhubby, @weirdcore-fantasy.

You've shown them as parents....but what about the 141 guys as first time dads? Like how are they during the delivery or the first time they held their baby? It doesn't have to strictly be a hospital setting, maybe it's a home birth?

Surprisingly, you're not the only person who asked this. I had two others ask for something really similar to this. So, this is me combining them all into one post!

cw: childbirth, fluff, pregnancy

Soap who is playing video games on his phone during the early stages of labor. Soap who also sets the video games aside when you go into active labor. Soap who is nervous but does his best to not show it (and does a terrible job not showing how nervous he is.) Soap who tries to dissolve the tension and anxiety by cracking jokes. This earns him a smack over the back of the head and a verbal threat of divorce. Soap who is locked in and focused during delivery, doing his best to encourage you as you push. Soap who grimaces when you squeeze his hand too hard but doesn't complain. Soap who watches the baby emerge with shock, awe, disgust, and fascination. Totally makes an inappropriate joke about it. Soap who is grinning from ear to ear once that baby is placed skin-to-skin in your arms. Soap who never stops smiling the rest of the time while in hospital and on the way home.

Gaz who supported your choice for a home birth over a hospital birth even though he disagrees. Gaz who does everything possible to assist the midwife and doula but still makes sure you have his entire attention. Gaz who does his best to speak calmly and soothingly to you even though he's anxious. Gaz who packed bags just in case you have to be transferred to the hospital. Gaz who allows you to cling to him and moan into his shoulder as you push. Gaz who cradles you in his arms as you’re handed the baby. Gaz who cherishes the skin-to-skin contact with his newborn when it’s his turn to hold them. Gaz who is realizing his whole world is starting to shift to surround this tiny human.

Price who tries to appear like he's in control of himself and his emotions Price who does his best to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. Pillows fluffed? On it. Back rub? He won't stop until you say so. Anything, and he'll see it done. Price who severely overpacked and brought far too many things to the hospital. Price who constantly holds your hand, refusing to let go. Price who worries that the worst might happen even though he knows you have a great team taking care of you. Price who is so ready to be a father but is also terrified. Price who is in awe of you for going through this process and vows to cherish you even more every day for the rest of your lives together. Price who can't stop admiring the tiny little human that came out of you. He's obsessed with the itty-bitty fingernails and toes.

Ghost who is outwardly calm, cool, and collected, but internally is a mess. Ghost who is hyper focused on you. Whatever you need or want, you get. Ghost who is the first voice in the room to advocate for your health and safety. Ghost who appears scary and ominous to those around him, but is completely gentle and encouraging with you while you labor. Ghost who never flinches or complains when you squeeze his hand too hard. Ghost who never leaves your side during the whole ordeal. Ghost who tells you how proud he is of you while stroking your hair as you cradle your newborn against your chest. Ghost who, when he finally gets the chance to hold his child in his arms, doesn't want to put them down for anything. Ghost who realizes he now has the chance to be the father that he wishes he had growing up.

main masterlist

Im looking for a post that I can’t remember but it was angst! it was malleus and Leona. It has some time travel and in the present you’re with Malleus. Malleus meets your future kids but finds out that Leona is the dad and you guys broke up.

Apparently Miles is a JJK fan (in the comics)

If you put these two in a room together I think the result would be adorable 🥺

This is SO COOL wtf

They didn't even tease the illustration first and displayed the grayscale prototype like they usually do? Literally just: "Hi you can order Idia now! You have 3 months to scrounge up an insane amount of cash to get him!"

Wtaf bless you Idia girlies. Good luck.

THESE ARE SO CUTE !!

🧁 cupcake analysis 🧁

YES, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY 🤡 I’m still fixated on the cute character-themed cupcakes we got from the recent TsumTsums x TWST collab… so I’m going to talk about more things I noticed in the cupcake designs by dorm + by individual characters!

Mmm, cupcakes… 🧁 I would make these if only I had the tools to make all of the painstaking little details—

Heartslabyul

They all have checkered cupcake liners with a half-painted white rose. Famous Heartslabyul iconography!

Their names are written out in a white cursive font. Not the wackiest they could have gone with, but it fits the whimsical style of these cupcakes.

Riddle

Of course, we have strawberries—a fruit from Riddle’s favorite dessert, his beloved strawberry tarts (which also have personal significance to him, being as it was a strawberry tart’s taste that entranced him and made him late to return home as a child). The ring of frosting piped around the strawberries kind of creates the illusion of a tart’s puff pastry with the fruit nesting inside.

Red frosting made with a piping tip to resemble a big rose! Again, more famous Heartslabyul iconography.

IT HAS RIDDLE’S HEART AHOGE 😭

The cupcake also has the crown and a ribbon similar to the ones he wears in his Dorm Uniform~

Unlike the other Heartslabyul cupcakes, Riddle’s is predominantly one color: red. This could be referring to how Riddle is the most rigid in the dorm and someone who demands uniformity and preaches absolutism (“follow the rules”, “paint all the roses red”, etc.).

Even so! There are still little gold and blue sprinkles (though still in a neat arrangement)! I like to think of them as sprinkles of hope and a willingness to change… the first step he’s taking outside of his comfort zone!

No card; this makes sense since Riddle is also the only one without a card suit mark on his face.

Trey

The cookie iced to look like his hat…

Another cookie iced to look like the three of clubs heart (for obvious reasons)!

Trey’s cupcake looks kinda fuzzy like moss, so that leads me to believe the frosting got dipped in sanding sugar to give it texture or something. This makes the cupcake look like it’s an unassuming shrub—and really, isn’t that what Trey claims to be? He’s not an exciting red rose like Riddle, he’s the mild-mannered “normal” guy there to support the flower as the leaves and shoots.

Sugared violets as a topping! Nice way of incorporating Trey’s favorite food into this.

He has a little dusting of sprinkles too; maybe because it was him that showed Riddle “a whole new world”.

There seems to be a layer of jagged chunks (maybe crushed pistachios) along the rim. Feels quite different than the rest of the cake—maybe it’s to represent the less kind side of himself that Trey sometimes alludes to.

Two cookie sticks, which remind me of like two spears crossing to block off a path to the queen. On-brand for Trey, who initially follows Riddle’s orders to a T and kicks out his rule-breaking underclassmen.

Cater

There’s a LOT going on here, and I wonder if that’s in part because Cater is a Magicam fiend and in part because he’s using his flashiness to distract from looking deeper into him. This cupcake reflects that idea well, especially with the colorful sprinkles in the center (as opposed to spread out like Trey or Riddle’s) to make the otherwise mainly orange and red cake pop out more on a social media feed. It also could mean that Cater really keeps to himself, as the sprinkles are not spread outward.

If you look closely, the frosting vaguely resembles Cater’s hair. There’s a larger dollop in the middle which sort of looks like the middle section of his hair that’s pulled back.

There’s lots of little decorations that resembles the decorations on Cater’s phone case—an item near and dear to his heart.

The orange slices can be sweet—the impression that Cater tries to give off—but the pretzel implies a savory taste—what he actually prefers to eat.

There’s a squiggle of darker orange under his name. Is it to call attention to his identity? Cater tries to seek validation and attention from socials, so maybe this is a call to action.

Cater’s cupcake is the only one in his entire dorm that has TWO cards (both four of diamonds). One is probably a cookie and is in full color whole the other is one solid color (brown) and made of chocolate. Most likely this is referring to his UM, which allows Cater to create clones of himself. I wonder if the second card being chocolate alludes to something else too… Namely, the more melancholy and downtrodden part of himself that Cater usually does not let his peers know about 😔

Also two cookie sticks! Similar meaning as Trey’s, especially given that Cater was the first upperclassman to toss Adeuce out (after he gets them to paint the roses for him).

Ace

Ace of hearts card!

A sprinkle of hearts… Are any of us surprised??

His frosting is very ruffled and playful, much like his personality.

The cupcake is more on the simple side compared to many of the others; this is also very “Ace” of him, as Ace is commonly described as “the average high school boy” and has indicated himself that he has no particular goals or ambitions yet.

There’s a cherry on top! Very bright and cheeky, just like Ace—oh, and let’s not forget, cherry pie is his favorite food!

There’s also what appears to be almond shavings on Ace’s cupcake; almonds are actually very closely related to cherries so it’s a great pairing! If we really wanna stretch it, maybe it’s a reference to how Ace is skilled at mimicking or copying others, as the taste/smell of almond and cherries can be commonly mistaken for one another.

Deuce

Two of spades card!

Deuce’s cupcake has a very different texture to it. Unlike the others, his is very smoothed out and almost shiny (like a mirror glazed cake!). It makes me think this is to help him stand out as someone who is trying to reform and reinvent himself into something sparkling—especially seeing as the blue part of the cake seems to be covering up/glooping over the body of the cupcake itself.

Little candy eggs (one with a crack in it) and a baby chick! A callback to him liking egg dishes and the utter despair he experienced when he first learned that supermarket eggs aren’t fertilized…

The light blue squiggle makes me think of Deuce meandering and not knowing where he wants to go in life, representative of his delinquent phase or perhaps struggling to stay on the straight and narrow path of an honors student.

Finally, we have the grey marks on the cupcake which look like tire marks left from skidding around on a magical wheel/blastcycle, Deuce’s preferred mode of transportation!

Deuce's cupcake goes from blonde/yellowish to blue, which probably refers to him going from bleached hair as a delinquent to his natural hair color as he tries to reform himself.

Savanaclaw

Golden yellow cupcake liners with Savanaclaw’s signature horizontal zigzag pattern.

Their names seem to be done in a blocky text on chocolate. Fits the tough, somewhat rigid hierarchical feel of the dorm.

Leona

A crescent moon-shaped candy invokes the imagery of Scar singing the final line to Be Prepared as he and the hyenas ready themselves for the coup.

The darker frosting swirled on the side be interpreted as his scar or maybe the end of his tail.

Cacao nibs kind of remind me of rocks, perhaps to symbolize the hard childhood Leona had, desperately trying to prove himself to people who didn’t like him in the first place. There’s notably also golden specks there—a ray of hope for him to be better? Or maybe a nod to his noble lineage.

The chocolate sauce makes this cupcake feel very decadent but also adds to the dark look of it. I would say it resembles blot, but none of the other OB boys have this same feature. Maybe a hint at Leona’s depressive traits?

Wishful thinking on my part, but Leona’s cupcake is the only one in his dorm with a large splash of green (thanks to the leaves there). I like to think it’s him “turning over a new leaf” and turning his sights onto his internship + working toward helping to help preserve nature and discover energy efficient methods to help his country.

His cupcake is the “tallest” in Savanaclaw (because of how high his frosting is)—he’s obviously the leader of the pack.

Ruggie

Very decadent cupcake. A large scoop of ice-cream, nuts, pastries, tons of cream and frosting… it looks like someone just piled on all their favorite desserts (which suits a glutton like him). Even his own cake looks like it’s about to burst out of the liner!

Two donuts inserted in, because 1) they’re Ruggie’s favorite and 2) two is better than one!

The scattered chunks of chocolate resemble the pattern on the coat of a spotted hyena, which is what Ruggie is.

Jack

WHY DOES HIS CUPCAKE JUST STRAIGHT UP LOOK LIKE HIM… The two paler frosting peaks are his ears, the two-tone swirl results in his hair but also results in the high peak of his tail.

This cupcake has a lot of nuts (I see a walnut, a cashew, maybe crushed peanuts, and many whole hazelnuts). Maybe because Jack is “a tough nut to crack” due to his stoic and standoffish attitude? But we all know he’s a sweetheart deep down, perhaps why the most abundant of these nuts is hazelnuts, often used in many desserts and especially paired with chocolate.

xvsjwveiwk This is a slightly unserious note but there’s something whitish that night be dried coconut??? Sprinkled on the cake… I-Is that Jack shedding/j

Octavinelle

Each Octavinelle cupcake has a black macaron decorated to resemble their dorm uniform hats! The filling is purple (like Octa’s usual color) and has candy pearls (since they’re from the sea).

Their names are written in an elegant flowing font, with emphasis on the first letter of their names (slightly bigger than the other letters). It provides an impression that differs from the other letters in their names, much like how the Octatrio themselves can be deceptive.

A bowtie that matches what each boy wears in his dorm uniform.

The sprinkling of little purple pearls could really be nothing, but they could also be all the powers/abilities they have collected together.

Azul

The single chocolate stick (not two, unlike Cater and Trey’s) could pass as a straw, making the whole cupcake appear like a drink. Makes sense, the Mostro Lounge has a 1 drink minimum + his Dorm Uniform vignette is all about how he wants to buy the rights for the popular Mystery Drink from Sam.

A little contract and writhing chocolate tentacles pair nicely together. Together, they represent his UM and how his tendrils reach out to pull people into deals.

Azul also has a scoop of ice-cream, but it is notably VERY different looking than Ruggie’s. Azul’s is much smaller (because he moderates what he eats and how much) and neater too (because he cares about his tidy appearance).

There is a swirl of purple frosting on the bottom but most of the frosting is white and piled high. The former must be Ursula’s skin, and the latter her hair, as it is similar in shape.

His cupcake liner has the widest stripes (because he used to be overweight in the past) and has little purple dots (maybe in reference to the suctions on his tentacles).

Azul keeps the spiral seashell that resembles Ursula’s necklace.

Azul's cupcake goes from purple to white, which may denote his transition from octopus merman to human.

Tweels

The twins have a scalloped seashell that splits in half, representing the other brother. The way the shell divets also makes it look like a heart shape, implying the brothers “share a heart” or perhaps calling back to how both of their UMs involve “the heart” (Shock/Bind the Heart).

Their frosting is the color of their hair, even containing a stripe of black (in opposite directions) to match their hair. The frosting also seems to be slightly textured, which matches the gills and scales on their merforms.

The peak of the frosting resembles the ends of their eel tails flicking in opposite directions.

Three diamond-shaped “scales” on each cupcake; this is ghe same shape and design as the earrings they wear.

A ring of purple frosting is included; this could represent Azul, someone whom the twins closely work with and consider a great source of amusement. It’s telling that the purple frosting is below the teal frosting, as the twins have made it clear before that they’re not his minions or “below” him, they act independently and choose to follow Azul because they want to (and have the agency to leave whenever).

Jade

Jade’s cupcake liner has the most numerous and thinnest vertical stripes. There is also a very fine zigzag running through the liner. Very similar to Jade’s teeth arrangement and how they present as small but frequent.

Jade's cupcake stays a consistent color throughout the creation process.

Floyd

Floyd’s cupcake liner is in the middle of Azul and Jade’s in terms of line spread and thickness. The zigzag is also more elongated than Jade’s, matching Floyd’s more easygoing personality between the two twins. He’s also more likely to show his full teeth!

Floyd's cupcake goes from gold to teal, but Jade does not do the same or even the reverse. Maybe this hints at how Floyd is the more fickle brother?

Scarabia

Scarabia cupcake liners are color blocked with solid black and a deep red with an intricate golden pattern. Matches their dorm uniforms well!

They have snake biscuits with their names in bold, blocky all capital letters for impact. The biscuit shape suits the Sorcerer of the Sands. The text choice… I’m not sure, maybe to match the “casual streetwear” style of the dorm…? Or the dorm leader’s brazenness and overt friendliness?

Kalim

His earrings have been made into an edible version!

Thumbprint cookies that resemble glistening jewels! This, plus the colorful sugar pearls, represents Kalim’s immense wealth.

There’s a bow tied around his cupcake liner, which matches the cloth he wears around his head in many outfits of his.

The feathers that transition in color are for Kalim’s love of animals and willingness to accept others of all kinds (“colors”). This could also be a reference to his Dorm Uniform vignettes, where he pulled off a trick that made white birds appear to be “rainbow”.

At first I thought the white puffy frosting was to look like the Sultan’s turban, but wouldn’t they make it smoother and resemble one cohesive lump in that case…? Then I realized the white frosting actually resembles a CLOUD 😭 which fits Kalim so well, since he takes his friends out on magic carpet rides…

The red peak poking out of the top could be like… the domed roof of a tower, since there is one both for the Sultan’s palace and in Scarabia dorm. The white sprinkles/coconut shreds on the red part also gives the impression that the roof just poked through the clouds www

VERY tiny detail but if you look closely you’ll notice that Kalim’s cupcake is… lumpy… almost as though he tried baking for the first time himself and messed it up a little, so Jamil took over decorating for him to cover up the mistakes. (That’s headcanon anyway, lol)

Jamil

Jamil’s cupcake is a two-tone twirl thar matches the colors of his dorm AND the turban he wears when he overblots.

We have the classic red feather, three golden orbs, and a thumprint cookie (again, resembling a jewel) to match Kalim’s and to match Jamil’s hair accessories!

The little bits of gold sprinkled around are hard to place but maybe it’s to show how Jamil has to put Kalim first and foremost while his own feelings get dismissed/belittled/treated as less important.

Large chunks of chocolate on top! Not sure what this could be, but a part of me wants to believe it’s his depressive or defeatist traits, since Leona also has chocolate, but scattered. (Can you tell I loved these two’s interactions in book 6?)

Finally, we come to the enigmatic and out-of-place golden squiggle. Someone as meticulous as Jamil couldn’t possibly have intentionally placed that there, right…? Allow me, if you will, to circle back to the “Kalim was trying to bake with Jamil” theory… What if, while Jamil was decorating Kalim’s cupcake to cover up the unevenness of the cake, Kalim tried to thank Jamil and repay the favor by decorating Jamil’s cupcake??? And it resulted in… that squiggle… so Jamil had to roll with it and make the rest of his cupcake look as aesthetically pleasing as possible.

Pomefiore

All Pomefiore names are written in elegant script on a chocolate disc that is also stamped with the stars and moons of their dorm.

The cupcake liners have the same stars and moons pattern and has the colors of Pomefiore.

Vil

Similar to Riddle, Vil has a crown to show that he is the dorm leader. His is, of course, a different design to reflect a different queen (the Fairest Queen, not the Queen of Hearts).

The frosting has a slight gradient which is the same as the tips his hair.

The golden leaves match the leaves on the back of his dorm leader tiara/crown.

There are berries on top; notably, a red one still has a bit of leaf and branch stuck to it, making the berry look like a red apple (you know, cuz the Evil Queen used one to poison Snow White).

Vil has golden dust and two types of round candies evenly dispersed on the cupcake. It shows us how clean and yet elegant his personal style is.

Rook

Rook's cupcake has a very unique shape that is not quite like any other student's. Indeed, his cupcake resembles his hat (note the little feather sticking out of the top purple part) and bangs (the lower yellow part).

The purple part looks like it is made with an extruder and results in a texture similar to the top of a mont blanc; this is probably to help differentiate it from the smoother texture of the yellow beneath. Since the purple is a hat, the texture is most likely to make it seem more "fabric-like".

The yellow part + the color change from yellow to purple may also be a reference to how he was originally in Savanaclaw, but then transferred to Pomefiore.

An edible bow and arrow motif befitting of a skilled huntsman!

The squiggle line here seems to be showing the path of his arrow, which always finds its mark. Additionally, Rook himself is a tricky person and usually employs roundabout strategies or misdirecting ways to achieve his goals.

At the end of the arrow's path is a cluster of what seems to be pomegranate seeds, which seems odd and something more befitting of Idia or Ortho (who have ties with Hades; there is a tale about Hades having Persephone eat a pomegranate fruit which dooms her to spending half of her time in the Underworld). However, I think here the pomegranate seeds are meant to be... like... an artistic, abstract depiction of blood once the arrow strikes its target.

There's blueberries on top, an element he has in common with Vil (someone whom he devotes himself to). The leaves here with the berries tie Rook to the wild, both as a huntsman and has an ex-Savanaclaw student.

Epel

The pale purple color of the frosting is the same as Epel’s hair!

Unlike Vil’s sprinkled-on decorations, Epel’s are not spread out evenly and instead cluster at the top. This may be attributed to their different levels of maturity, as Vil and more knowledgable than Epel, who expresses outdated views on gender and has a limited understanding of the world due to coming from a very rural area.

There’s a fine shimmer on Epel’s cupcake—probably because his arc in book 5 was about learning to appreciate and weaponize his beauty.

Two apple slices because… well, when you think of Epel, you think of apples and the Felmier family business!

There seems to be a little bit of yellow peaking out from the cake? Are those more apple slices or an apple filling…?

The pale frilled strip of frosting resembles a lace collar, something which Epel wears in his school uniform.

Epel is the only member of Pomefiore to have a cupcake which LACKS a blueberry (or really any berries at all). This is a subtle indication that he is the “odd one out” within the dorm, as he, unlike Rook, is not conforming to the standards set by his dorm leader.

Ignihyde

The Ignihyde cupcake liner has the same black and blue geometric look as their dorm uniform jackets.

I don’t know how to really describe the font their names are written in, but the way the letters are cut reminds me of a “Greek” style of text (similar to this).

Their names seem to be displayed on Oreos chocolate sandwich cookies with Ignihyde blue fillings. Counting the parts (2 cookies, the cream filling), there’s three in total, which matches the count of the heads of Cerberus, as well as how many Shroud brothers there are.

Both Idia and Ortho have what look to be confetti cakes as the base for their cupcakes, Because of the dark color of the cake and the bright color of the sprinkles, it creates the impression of stars in the night sky—maybe to reference Star Rogue, their favorite video game.

Idia

The skull-shaped technomantic device Ida uses to launch his magic spells tops off his cupcake.

On either side of the skull device are candies (?) that look like the same light sticks Idia is super into waving around at his beloved idols’ concerts.

The blue frosting is meant to look like his fiery hair!

Idia’s cupcake goes from a red gradient to a blue one. His hair actually goes change color like this based (on his mood), We’ve seen his hair go from blue to red from anger and/or determination and passion in both book 7 and in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

Ortho

This cupcake seems to represent both the deceased Ortho and the current android Ortho.

Not sure what it is, but there’s something with a cybernetic glowing design that implies a circuit board; this is part of the internal parts which make up robo!Ortho.

There’s some kind of sauce with sprinkles over the top of that layer; this could be the blot that makes up phantom!Ortho, since we usually don’t associate the “dripping” of the sauce with robo!Ortho.

The smaller dollop of blue frosting is Ortho’s fiery blue hair. He’s smaller and younger than Idia, so the flames do not consume the entire cupcake. (Alternatively, this could also be the fire-shaped bottle that serves as phantom!Ortho’s head.)

Under the frosting is a cookie and a thin ring which resembles the ring of glowing triangles that appears around robo!Ortho’s neck. A similar pattern appears around the neck of phantom!Ortho.

This cupcake’s cake is a lighter color than Idia’s cake. It also has a larger variety in the sprinkle colors, maybe as a nod to Ortho’s cheerier and more hopeful personality compared to Idia’s gloomier and pessimistic one.

Diasomnia

The Diasomnia cupcake liners are black with a green briar pattern.

Each student’s name is piped in chocolate, with the third years in white and the underclassmen in what seems to be milk chocolate.

The cupcakes seem to be malformed or sort of puffy like Kalim’s is. I wonder if that means Lilia roped all of his kids to bake with him as a bonding exercise www

Malleus

Malleus’s cupcake goes from Diasomnia green to black (the royal color of the Draconia bloodline), symbolizing the eventual transition he must make from student to king of his country.

The frosting on top is the same colors as he night sky sprinkled with silver stars. Malleus likes to take solitary strolls under the cover of night, so this suits him.

Malleus wouldn’t be Hornton/Tsunotaro without the horns! Of course we’ve gotta include a chocolate version of his iconic horns.

Extra frosting in a bright green; these are meant to be Malleus’s apocalyptic green fire that he spouts.

There’s a purple grape cut into two (I’m sure Rollo would be furious/j) to reveal the green insides. How curious! These colors are also considered accent colors for Maleficent. Another nice detail about the grapes is that the veining of the flesh makes the insides resemble reptilian eyes—like those of a dragon.

Lilia

The frosting is black for Lilia’s hair and has magenta (berry?) sauce to reflect his hair streaks.

Lots of berries (Lilia loves his berry juice) and irregular pink sprinkles or candy shards. It’s cute, punky, and whimsical, just like he is.

Chocolate bats for the bats that swarm Lilia in many animations. He’s also shown taking care of a bat in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.

I’ve been trying to figure out what the whole cream is… My best guess is they’re representing Malleus, Sebek, and Silver??? Silver and Sebek are the smaller two dollops since they grew up and trained together + are the most immature of the group. Malleus is the big, textured swirl on the left—he is older and more powerful than Sebek and Silver. This analogy also works when you consider that these three sit upon Lilia (the cupcake), who is the oldest and serves as the father figure and foundation for their dorm to get along with each other and with others.

I don’t know what that ahoge-like thing is supposed to be or mean—

Silver

His cupcake goes from a deep blonde/yellowish brown to silver. This reflects his hair color change following Lilia’s blessing.

Silver’s cupcake has a very dreamy and cloud-like quality to it because of the abundance of pastel-colored cream. The top of the frosting even droops over, sort of like a head dropping in sleep.

Crushed bits of an aurora-colored candy are sprinkled over the cake. They’re the same color as his eyes, as well as the ring gifted to him by his parents.

Two birds and some mint (?) leaves make up the colors of the Three Good Fairies (Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather). They also speak to Silver’s familiarity with the forest creatures.

Sebek

The pastel green frosting for Sebek’s cupcakes is sloped, and it is the only one styled this way. It may represent his lopsidedly views and understanding of the world, as he is easily one of the most rigid thinking within his dorm.

Many different things are sprinkles on the cupcake; it looks like someone threw them on thinking they would look cool with very little thought or planning. It fits how brazen Sebek is and also (funnily enough) matches his struggle with the arts.

Sebek is the only student with triangular sprinkles; is this meant to look like scales?? Or maybe particles of lighting?

There’s a massive chocolate lightning bolt topping off the cupcake. Nothing subtle or tactful about it, much like Sebek’s personality and voice.

There are two pieces of sliced grape to mimic Malleus’s cupcake. Interestingly, the grape halves seem to come from entirely different kinds of grapes: one green (unlike Malleus’s), the other red (like Malleus’s). Assuming the red half (which Malleus has two of) implies fae heritage (Malleus is full fae), then the green half is one’s human heritage. The grapes, then, denote Sebek being of half fae, half human descent.

Extra

Grim

He has a unique black and white vertically striped cupcake liner to represent Ramshackle dorm!

Grim’s name is written on a cookie that looks like a puffy manga text box. Makes sense, he’s usually being the mouth piece for Yuu when they don’t get dialogue options or even when they do.

Seems to be covered in sanding sugar to achieve the fuzzy texture of fur!

Little wafer (?) shaped like Grim’s tail! And cookies (?) iced to resemble his ears! Two paw prints 🥺 to match Grim’s toe beans… The cupcake truly is made in his image!!

The white shell border is probably a stand-in for the white tuft of fur that Grim has.

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

📂 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.

Reblog >> Like

{{Part 2}}

✎ forever

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times he asked you to marry him

genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo

note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Why don't we get married?"

The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.

His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.

"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"

A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"

You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—

"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."

Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.

"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"

There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?

You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.

Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.

"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."

When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.

The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.

"Can't we—hic—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic—already?"

This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"

"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."

"I'm—hic—asking you to marry me!"

"I said no."

"Why?!"

You sighed. "You're dead drunk."

"What will—hic—make you say yes?"

You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.

"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

"Marry me."

The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.

And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.

Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.

. . .

He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head lolled back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.

He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.

Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.

As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.

And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—

—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.

But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.

You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?

. . .

This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.

"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."

✎ attraction

- gojo satoru x reader

to think it started with your crush on his best friend...

genre: high school!gojo being a menace, jealous!gojo but he doesn’t realize it? enemies to lovers, fluff, gojo begins pining on you

note: thank you anon who asks for gojo falling in love with a first year! i added some spice though haha

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Back in 2006—

There was this tiny weeny part of Gojo that was like... questioning, how did his best friend Geto Suguru catch your eye, whereas he didn’t? Like, at all?

"I want Geto."

"Hah?" Gojo arched a righteous brow, swiftly turning your way—feeling the stings of irritation gnawing at him. "What?"

You shot him a look. “I said, you suck and I’m lamenting that I’m paired with you instead of Geto for this mission.”

Once upon a time, you did hate him for obvious reasons as other people do. He was obnoxious, boastful and overall grating on your nerves.

Well, actually, “hate” would be too strong of a word, so probably “dislike greatly” it is.

“Ehh, Suguru? With you?” Gojo glanced at you, purposefully scrunching his face into a mocking sneer. “No way. Absolutely not. Incompatible. I won’t give him my blessings.”

“Who are you to grant blessings?” you hissed with a bulging vein of frustration. “And no, it's not what you think! I—” you wanted to kick yourself for stumbling over your words, “—I just respect him in a way an underclassman would!”

Gojo let out a strained laugh.

To him, you were this cute little junior who looked funny when mad. Riling you up was on his daily to-do list, and poking fun at your obvious crush on his best friend was supposed to double the fun, until it made him wonder despite himself... just what exactly did Suguru have that he apparently lacked, leading you to always follow him with your eyes, whereas you spared him with nothing but glares and sharp retorts?

You didn’t exactly hide your feelings. Whenever Geto was nearby or greeted you in the mornings, you'd blush like a tomato. It was silly, because Gojo was sure his best friend’s type wasn’t a girl as skittish as you—surely, it must be someone as vivacious as Inoue Waka.

He knew you were doomed to fail.

"I suggest you go pick up some slack," he teased. "Better if you don't become a dead weight while assisting him in missions, no?"

He knows. Really.

"...do you know that there are only three things I can't stand here?"

"And those are?"

But...

"Your stupid glasses, your Limitless—and you."

He was still irked, regardless.

"Well, poor you, then," he shrugged, shit-eating grin on his face. This time he pushed his luck. "Do you know that you're nowhere nearing Suguru's type?"

Scratch that. You hate him. You turned to him with a reddened face, and it wasn't because you were blushing.

"I'm going by myself!" you declared, seething. "I couldn't care less about what you're about to do—I'm finishing this and going home!"

With that, you you marched towards the haunted house, paying no heed to his taunts behind you.

You felt a wave of embarrassment washing over. Gojo always messed with you and normally you would chalk it up as one of his shits—but this time, you didn't appreciate how he touched on that sore spot of your not-so-hidden infatuation with Geto. So what if you weren't his ideal type? He didn't have to be mean!

But soon you regretted leaving his side, as a monstrous cursed spirit quickly chased you out.

Gojo was still outside, bidding his time. He merely huffed when he heard you screaming in fear.

He was ready with a jab. "Well, well... Look who's running back into my arms—"

But his smirk quickly fell when he saw the cursed entity was apparently way beyond your level. You ran out—no, by some idiotic impulse of survival, you actually leapt out of the third-story window and almost fell flat on your face and broke your bones, but before then, he sprung to action, catching you, wrapping one arm on your waist.

You were grateful you that you weren't doomed—until you felt yourself dangling mid air in his hold... like a cat.

"Gojo!" you wailed. "I'm going to fa—!"

Oh, but Gojo was convinced that this was his moment to shine. He directed a smirk your way as the bright blue mass in his hand totally caught your attention. With one swift flick of his hand, he muttered the mantra for Blue, and exorcised the cursed spirit in one go.

He marveled at his own show of power—and hoping that somehow, you would too. Then, he placed his hand under your knees, repositioning you in a princess-carry, and the way your gentle curves nestled snugly in his arms sparked some intriguing thoughts in him.

Your wide, crystal-clear eyes gazed at him with such wonder. Red tinted your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved into a winning smile.

It was at that exact moment when he realized it: he wants you. This funny girl who often made his day, he wanted you to look at his way too.

...but goddamnit, you like Suguru.

"Well, not that scary now with me around, isn’t it?" he boldly announced, and your amazed expression immediately turned into a cute frown.

"Thanks," you blurted, still with rosy cheeks and looked frazzled, but then you realized the state you were in his arms. "But—put me down!"

"Ehhh, I will if your feet can reach the ground!"

Who cares if you like Suguru? As he burst into snickers and you screamed at his face, Gojo Satoru decided then and there—in that summer of 2006—that he would make it his mission to win you over. To make you his.

And years later, not only he achieved that but also so much more—a ring on your finger serving as the testament to his success.

Epilogue

"Yaga-sensei," Geto sighed wearily. "Can I be paired with Shoko, please?"

"Geto-san, wait, please—" you frantically tried to explain, glaring at Gojo in the process. "I'll do my best so—"

"You're such a bother, even Suguru doesn't want to go on missions with you," the white-haired clown remarked with an evil grin. "Right, Suguru?"

"No, Satoru—"

"Well, but if it's me, I'll gladly mentor and teach you though~"

"I don't want you! You're so insufferably annoying!"

"Yaga-sensei, can I please get paired with someone else—"

✎ treasure

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them

genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort

note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"No!"

"Why? This helps—"

"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"

Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.

Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.

However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.

"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"

"You are!"

Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!

When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.

But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.

That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.

"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"

Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.

His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"

Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.

"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"

"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.

Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.

It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.

Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—

His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”

Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.

"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."

"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"

You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.

Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.

You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."

Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.

"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."

Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.

Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.

You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.

"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:

"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."

🍰 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."

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!

Hi there! :D I saw that resquest are open so I wanted to make mine: I couldn't help but imagine a scenario where the reader finds a sad Grim crying because he doesn't feel like he's progressing or improving as a wizard. So the reader cradles Grim (like the baby cat he is) and sings him the song: Baby of Mine from the Dumbo movie.

Take your time and no pressure, bye <3 <3

Characters: Grim !platonic x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: Comforting Grim

Warnings: fluff, spelling mistakes

Grim

“Grim?” You called out his name worried since he just lay in bed with the covers over his head and didn’t even say good night. He’s been like that ever since school. He's been just silent—nothing—no calling you a henchman, no asking you for tuna, nothing. "Grim,” you say again, yet again, nothing.

You pull off the cover from him, face first in the bed. “Grim, are you crying?” You whisper, “Go away, human.” He grumbled. You hear his throat drying up, and he was trying to stop himself from crying. "Grim, what’s wrong? You can tell me.” You comfort him while trying to pry him off so he wouldn’t be face first on the bed.

“What’s wrong, grim? Please tell me I’ll listen.” You try to persuade an answer out of him: “Everything is so stupid. I’m trying my hardest, but I’m still not good enough. I don’t understand the books we read or the potions we make; it’s so dumb! I’m supposed to be the great grim, but I can’t doo anything."Grim explodes in your face, telling you all at once what was bothering him.

“Let go, henchmen!” You ignore his complaint and cradle him in your arm while you hear an assortment of “let go." "Stop, I’m not a baby,” “I’ll burn,” and much more. "Just listen,” you say.

“Baby mine, don’t you cry.”

“Baby mine, don’t you cry.”

“Rest your head close to my heart.

“Baby mine, don’t you cry.”

Yet with only a couple of verses, it got Grim to pass out. You put him down in your arms and put him in bed before continuing on.

“Little one, when you play

Don't you mind what you say?

Let those eyes sparkle and shine.

Never a tear, baby of mine.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

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.

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

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.”

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Someone New

Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.

Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)

GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)

i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts

Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.

The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’

His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.

You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.

You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.

You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.

You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.

Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.

Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.

As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.

-

You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.

He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.

“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”

“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”

Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.

You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.

“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”

“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.

He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.

-

When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.

“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”

“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”

You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.

You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-

You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar

You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.

Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.

You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.

When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.

You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.

-

“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.

It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.

A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.

‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”

He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.

Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”

You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.

With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.

-

When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.

You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.

You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…

iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto

Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.

Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.

Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.

That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.

You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.

“Hello, Prefect,” he says.

“Azul.”

Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.

“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”

“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”

“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”

Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-

“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”

Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.

You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.

“No need to leave on my account,” he says.

“It’s not.”

He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.

Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.

As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.

-

The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.

You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.

At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.

You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.

He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.

“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”

“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-

“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”

With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.

It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.

You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.

You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…

As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.

“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”

Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.

-

A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.

You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.

He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.

Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.

“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”

With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?

iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper

While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.

Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.

However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.

Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.

You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.

“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”

Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.

“What are you thinking about?”

He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”

You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…you could still find love?”

“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”

“I-I understand.”

When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.

“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”

With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.

It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.

The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.

Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.

v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit

Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.

He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.

Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.

Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.

Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.

“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.

You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.

You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.

He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.

When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.

It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.

-

The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.

You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.

Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.

He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”

You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.

“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”

You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.

“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”

He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.

-

Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.

“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”

Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.

“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”

Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”

When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.

“I’m just teasing you.”

You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.

Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.

vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud

The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.

And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.

You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.

The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.

It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.

Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.

Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.

Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.

“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”

“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.

“How do you know about that?

“Earn their love??”

“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”

“Huh. Okay.”

You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.

“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.

“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”

When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.

-

The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.

Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.

The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.

You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.

You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.

A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.

“Hey MC.”

“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.

Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.

“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.

“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”

“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.

“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.

“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.

“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”

“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”

“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”

“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”

“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.

You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.

-

The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.

“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.

“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.

“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.

“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.

“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”

vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia

You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.

That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.

With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.

When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.

It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.

“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”

You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.

“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”

-

Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.

You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.

“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.

“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.

“Human men are fickle.”

You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”

He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”

You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.

-

You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.

On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.

Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.

Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.

Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.

Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.

You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.

He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.

A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.

-

You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.

The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.

Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.

A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.

“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”

The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.

“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.

“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.

“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.

“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.

“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.

“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”

“And you, my king.”

The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.

He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”

“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”

He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.

The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.

This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.

“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”

He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”

You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”

He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”

There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.

-

You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.

When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.

It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?

The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?

Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, my child of man?”

Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.

viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion

Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.

Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?

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."

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!!

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo offers to help you get the attention of your crush, but things don't turn out the way either of you expect genre: college au, friends (?) to lovers, fluff, no angst notes: gojo is kinda dumb idk, shoko and geto know he's stupid wc: ~5.8k

"So, Geto Suguru, huh?"

You furrow your eyebrows as you look up from your book, meeting the bright blue eyes of none other than Gojo Satoru.

"I'm sorry?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. Gojo chuckles lightly, booping your nose as he takes a seat next to you.

"Cute," Gojo comments, snorting when you swat his hand away. "But really? Geto? He's a little too boring for you, don't you think? You're kind of super out of his league."

"I have no idea what you're taking about, Gojo," you say, carefully placing a bookmark between the pages of your book before closing it and setting it down next to you.

"You can call me Satoru if you'd like. I don't mind," he says, leaning back on the grass and basking in the sunlight. You stare at him dully, still confused by the entire situation. He grins when he notices your expression.

"What do you want, Gojo?" you ask, watching him pout at your use of his last name. He brings a hand up to his heart, pouting at your tone before breaking out into a large smile. You look away, slightly annoyed by your white-haired classmate.

"Geto? Suguru?" he repeats, bringing his hands up to form air quotation marks. "You know, 'the only one who's ever made my heart race and palms sweat', that Geto Suguru?"

Your jaw drops at his words, and you whip your head around to give him a disbelieving look. He's wearing a smug smirk as he returns your stare, one eyebrow raised in a way that lets you know that he's heard everything you've said about his best friend.

"Where did you hear that?" you hiss, grabbing your book and shoving it into your bag. You feel your heart pounding as you rise to your feet, brushing your clothes off before crossing your arms and staring at Gojo.

"You really should choose more private places to have such conversations," Gojo replies, standing up as well and brushing his hair back with his hand. "You weren't exactly being quiet when you were speaking with Shoko."

"So what is it that you want?" you ask, a scowl working its way onto your face. "Do you want me to do your chemistry homework in exchange for your silence or something?"

Gojo's smile never falters, unnerving you the slightest bit as he walks up to you before grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"No, of course not! What kind of student do you think I am?" he asks, pushing his sunglasses up with one hand as he wraps his other arm around your shoulders. The two of you begin walking towards a nearby lecture hall, and you find yourself tensing up the longer you remain under his hold. "You see, lately Geto has been getting on my case about every little thing. Between you and me, I think that having someone to focus his attention on can be beneficial for both of us. So I'm here to offer my assistance to get Geto to notice you!"

You come to an abrupt stop, causing the white-haired boy to halt as well. He looks at you curiously, confused by your sudden actions. You remain quiet as you reach for your bag, tugging it away from him with a tight-lipped smile.

"Thanks for the generous offer, Gojo, but no," you say, annoyance tinging your words. Gojo nearly flinches when he notices your stony gaze, and he chooses to remain silent as you begin to walk away.

"If you change your mind, let me know!" he calls out after you, this time actually flinching when you turn around to send him a sharp glare. he chuckles to himself once you're out of sight, sighing to himself and preparing to face an irritated Geto once more.

"You know, you're not subtle with your staring."

Your nose scrunches unconsciously as Gojo plops down in the seat next to you, and you choose to pick at your food in an attempt to ignore his presence. His sudden appearance earns you a questioning look from Shoko, who's currently sitting across from you and giving Gojo the occasional irritated look.

"Ah, hello Shoko," Gojo greets, nodding his head at his friend. He places his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his palm as he reaches over to steal a fry off her plate. "It's been a while."

"I saw you this morning," Shoko replies dryly, rolling her eyes when Gojo waves off her words before turning to face you.

"Why don't you let me help you? It'll get you further than sitting and staring will," he says, holding out his pinky finger and wiggling it in front of your face. "I promise."

"Has it occurred to you that the reason I don't accept your help is because I'm perfectly content with admiring from afar?" you ask as you push your plate away, your appetite now ruined.

"So you're afraid of rejection?" Gojo replies smoothly, taking your tray and munching on your leftover fries. Your expression is a mix of disgust and offense as you watch him, but it quickly shifts to betrayal when Shoko lets out a snort at his words.

"What? He's technically right," Shoko says, trying to defend herself after seeing your withering look. "It's not like you go out of your way to get him to notice you."

"We sit next to each other in class," you mumble, scooting away from Gojo. "We're lab partners and that's enough."

"Wait, you're the one who sits next to him?" Gojo questions, raising a brow when you nod. He finishes the rest of your fries, a pensive look on his face as he does so. You give him an unimpressed look, waiting for him to speak. "You might have a better chance with him than you think."

You can feel the heat flooding your cheeks as you tense up, and you risk another glance at Geto, watching as he converses with Nanami. You shake your head as you turn back to Gojo, who is already looking at you with a knowing smirk.

"Maybe you should listen to him," Shoko comments, taking a bite of her food before continuing. "What's the worst that can happen? Gojo is his friend, after all."

"See! Even Shoko sees how helpful I can be,' Gojo cheers, reaching over to high five Shoko. You bite your lip softly, feeling your stomach twist as you watch Geto smile softly at something Nanami said.

"Fine," you say, giving in. "One chance, Gojo. Don't mess it up, it won't end well for either one of us."

Gojo pumps his fist into the air, earning a weird look from you as he stands up and pats your head.

"You won't regret it. I promise."

"There you are!"

A squeak leaves your lips as Gojo rushes up to you, grabbing you by the hand and dragging alongside him. He doesn't come to a stop until he reaches Shoko and Geto, and you receive a warm smile from Geto and a head nod from Shoko in greeting.

"You two know each other?" Geto asks, slight surprise present on his face as he looks at yours and Gojo's hands. You quickly yank your hand out of his, laughing nervously as Gojo nods.

"Yeah! We've shared a few classes and we study together sometimes," Gojo says, missing the deadly glare you send him. "Similar majors and whatnot, you know the vibe. You should join us sometime, Geto."

"Yeah! The more, the merrier," you spit out, wincing when you feel Gojo's elbow dig into your side. "Shoko, do you want to join."

"I really don't," Shoko replies instantly, smirking as you flounder for a moment.

"I'd like that," Geto says, giving you another smile before turning to Gojo. "We can study after this next lecture, if you're both free?"

"Yeah, we were thinking about that little cafe a couple of minutes off campus," Gojo says, frowning when he notices you walking off with Shoko. A shout of your name has you glancing back, a pout on Gojo's face as he stares after you. "Where are you going?"

"To the cafe," you reply, raising an eyebrow as you cross your arms. "You didn't really expect me to wait out here for the two of you, did you?"

"Just make sure you get a good table!" Gojo says, giving you a lazy grin as you keep walking. You give him a small wave before heading off with Shoko, eventually parting ways with her once you reach the edge of campus.

The cafe Gojo had mentioned was easy enough to find, and you had to admit that it was cozy, the perfect place to sit and study. You manage to snag a table big enough for the three of you, ordering a drink before slipping into study mode. By the time the two boys arrive, you've managed to work through a majority of your lab report.

"Hey," Geto's quiet voice greets you, drawing your attention to him as he takes the seat across from you. You smile in response, shyly averting your eyes when he doesn't look away. Your smile drops when Gojo slides into the seat next to you, his shoulder bumping against yours and causing the pen in your hand to move suddenly, leaving a stray mark behind on your paper.

"Gojo!" you snap, turning to give him a glare. Gojo's face holds a lazy smirk, a pink tint present in his cheeks when he realizes just how close you are. Geto is unable to holds back a soft laugh, watching his usually quiet classmate lose their cool with his best friend.

"How about I buy you a cookie as an apology?" Gojo asks, ignoring Geto's soft laugh.

"Don't bother," you mutter, searching for your roll of Wite-Out. You freeze when Geto's hand comes into your field of vision, his own correction fluid sitting in his palm. You take it from him with a grateful smile, only to have it fall when Gojo leans in, picks up your pen, and scribbles something in the corner of your paper.

'i'm sorry'

You scowl before swiping the Wite-Out over his message, earning an offended gasp from Gojo. He wastes no time before pushes you back, scribbling something else and laughing when you try to snatch your paper away. You succeed after a few tries, smacking his head as you settle down before proceeding to erase all traces of Gojo from your homework.

"Stop being so annoying!" you say, grabbing his face when he tries to lean in and pushing him away.

"I'm not annoying! I'm cute!" Gojo replies, your pen still in his grasp.

"You're a fucking nightmare is what you are," you snap, lunging across his lap for your pen. Gojo pulls it even farther away from you, sticking his tongue out at you when you fail to grab it. You straighten up, placing a knee on your seat to gain some leverage as you throw yourself forward. A yelp leaves Gojo's lips at your action, neither one of you noticing how close you were until the two of you knock heads. Cries of pain leave the both of you, your pen clattering to the floor and rolling around for a bit before being picked up by Geto.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking at you with an amused expression. You smile sheepishly in response, rubbing at your forehead before nodding.

"Hey! What about me?" Gojo whines, glaring at Geto as he places your pen on your notebook.

"Don't be a baby. We both know that you and thick head of yours are fine," Geto chides, pausing slightly before holding up his phone. The devious smirk on his face makes your stomach drop, and you find yourself dreading whatever he's about to say. "Shoko's going to enjoy this video."

You and Gojo groan in unison, causing Geto to snicker before he gets up to order something. You turn to face Gojo, reaching up to yank his hair harshly before speaking.

"You're insufferable. Stop embarrassing me."

"Ow!" Gojo hisses, rubbing his head for a few seconds before winking at you. "Kinky."

The smack you proceed to give Gojo is heard by Geto from his place in line.

Gojo's plan was admittedly not the worst.

As the weeks drag on, you find yourself forming an easy friendship with Geto, occasionally heading over to his shared apartment with Gojo to study. Gojo does his best to miss those study sessions, always giving some lame excuse in order to leave the two of you alone.

It's a little weird, you admit to yourself, not having Gojo around to disrupt your focus. A selfish part of you reminds you that Gojo's absence means that Geto only speaks to you, and you feel a sense of satisfaction when you realize that the quieter boy always seems to be interested in what you have to say, even going as far as making sure his phone is tucked away when you speak. Your conversations with him are always light and fun, and you even earn a few smiles from him when you find yourself ranting about Gojo.

The white-haired menace had quickly become a larger part of your life than you cared to admit, his awful jokes and teasing nudges eventually growing on you. You often found yourself waking up at 2 a.m. to use the restroom, only to be greeted with whatever random meme Gojo had found on the internet late at night.

"And then, he asked if he could call me because he needed help with chem!" you rant, scribbling something down on your paper as Geto snickers. "He kept me up until 4 a.m., Geto. Four in the morning."

You pause to yawn, taking a sip of water afterwards in an attempt to wake yourself up. Geto shakes his head softly, a small smile on his face as he listens to you. He chooses to keep quiet about the fact that Gojo is the top student in his chemistry class.

"You can nap if you want," Geto says, tilting his head towards his bed. You shake your head, opening your mouth to speak only to be cut off by another yawn.

"Just go sleep," he says softly, using one hand to push you away from the table. "I'll continue the assignment."

You pout at his words, ready to argue with him but pausing when he gives you a stern look. You give him a sheepish smile, grabbing your water bottle before giving in and flopping onto his bed. You waste no time in wrapping his blankets around you, sighing softly as you curl up in the middle of the mattress.

"G'night, Geto," you murmur, missing his response as you knock out. Not even five minutes pass before your phone begins to vibrate consistently, causing Geto to scowl at the sudden movement. He looks over at you, still curled up under his sheets, before reaching for your phone with the intention of putting it on silent.

gojo: [8 new messages]

He pauses when he sees your notifications, smirking lightly before reaching for his own phone. He shakes his head slightly as he types out a message, hitting 'send' before setting his phone down.

sugu: leave 'em alone

Gojo's reply is instant, and Geto's phone dings loudly with a notification before he lunges forward to grab his phone and silence it. A quick glance at you is all it takes to confirm you're still deep asleep, and he turns his focus to his conversation.

satoru ♡: why? ;)

Geto rolls his eyes, fingers quickly gliding across his screen as he types out his response.

sugu: they're asleep. i heard you kept 'em up late last night.

Geto watches as Gojo's typing bubble appears and disappears a few times, and he decides to put his phone down when Gojo ultimately doesn't send a reply. He gets back to his assignment, picking up his pen and going over a few problems before he hears a soft knock at his door. Geto grumbles to himself as he wanders over to his door, opening it quietly only to be met with bright, blue eyes.

"When did you get home?" Geto whispers, taking in Gojo's sweatpants and slippers. He raises an eyebrow at his appearance eyes narrowing as he studies him. "You're already in your loungewear. I didn't even hear you come in."

Gojo ignores Geto's words, his eyes drifting over to the lump on Geto's bed. His eyes soften almost imperceptibly, and doesn't look at Geto even when he speaks.

"Come study with me in the living room. Let's let them sleep."

Geto snorts softly at his words but doesn't argue, walking back into his room to gather all his supplies before walking past Gojo. He watches as Gojo softly closes the door, making sure to turn off all the lights before following after Geto. His eyes widen when he sees Geto giving him a knowing look, and he raises an eyebrow in a silent question when he shakes his head.

"You're hopeless, Satoru."

Ever since the afternoon when you had fallen asleep in his bed, Geto started to notice the way Gojo's eyes always seem to linger on you.

It's not until the three of you at at the usual cafe that Geto realizes that maybe (just maybe) Gojo has developed feelings for you. He can't help but smirk as he watches Gojo stare at you, tossing rolled up pieces of his torn-up napkin at you and smiling whenever you swat at him.

When he realizes that you don't plan on turning your attention towards him, Gojo proceeds to pick up his pen and poke your cheek with it repeatedly. You mumble something under your breath, glancing at Geto for help and frowning when he simply shakes his head.

Gojo snickers as he leans in closer, the tip of his pen gliding across your cheek and leaving a mark as you finally whip your head around to face him, a sharp glare on your face when you look at him.

"Gojo!" you hiss, making Geto remember the first time the three of you had ever studied at the cafe. It had been a very similar situation, leading to the two of you knocking heads. Geto raises an eyebrow when he notices just how close you are to Gojo, your nose almost brushing his as you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Gojo," you repeat, now a lot calmer than you had previously been. "I would appreciate it if you learned what personal space is and respected mine."

"Uh, you have a little something," Gojo says, reaching over for a napkin and dipping it in a bit of water. He raises his free hand, cupping your cheek and gently turning it to the side so he can wipe at the pen mark on your cheek. "Right here."

Geto holds his breath as he watches the scene playing out in front of him, eyes widening slightly when he sees the way Gojo interacts with you. He has never seen him be so gentle with anyone, and he smirks to himself when he realizes that his speculation about Gojo's feelings for you is most likely true.

"That mark is your fault," you huff lightly, crossing your arms as you attempt to avoid Gojo's gaze. He's ridiculously close, and you pull away quickly when you notice how intently Geto is observing the two of you. Gojo freezes for a few seconds, his fingertips grazing the curve of your cheek as you turn away. He clears his throat loudly, placing the napkin down before standing up.

"I'm gonna, uh, go get a drink," he says, fidgeting slightly before continuing. "Do either of you want anything?"

Geto shakes his head at the same times you respond with your favorite drink, causing Gojo to nod determinedly before making his way over to the counter. You stare after him, shaking your head briefly before turning your attention back to your work and pretending not to notice Geto's gaze on you. The sound of your pen scratching on your paper fills the silence between the two of you, but you find yourself halting your actions when you notice Geto's eyes still focused on you. You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

"So, you and Satoru, huh?" Geto asks, mentally laughing when he sees the way your eyes widen. You place your pen down on the table, shaking your head vehemently as you glance at the boy in question.

"Me and him? Ew! No, I like you!" you blurt, slapping a hand over your mouth as you realize what you've just said. The embarrassment you expect never hits you, your face twisting into a scowl instead when Geto laughs loudly.

"No, you don't," Geto replies, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He watches your face twist up in annoyance, your eyes narrowing as you stare him down.

"You can't just decide who I do and don't like," you say, rolling your eyes before looking back down at your work. "I like you, Geto. You're sweet and charming and you're a good guy. I like you, okay?"

"Do you really?"

You look up when Geto slides into the seat next to you, meeting his eyes and blinking slowly when he leans in slightly. His elbow rests on the table, cheek in palm as he stares at you. You meet his gaze easily, eyebrows knitting together when he leans in close, his breath fanning across your lips.

"Yes," you state confidently, your eyes dropping to his lips briefly before meeting his gaze once more. He moves his head forwards slowly, his lips brushing against yours briefly before you jerk back.

"Sorry," you whisper, your hand covering your mouth as you try to process what just happened. "I don't know what—"

"Yes, you do," Geto interrupts, his lips turned up slightly. "Do you really still think you like me?"

"Am I interrupting something?" Gojo asks, face set in a deep frown as he looks at the close proximity between you and Geto. The two of you shake your heads, and Geto slides back into his original seat as Gojo places your drink down in front of you with a loud thud.

"Sure didn't seem like nothing," Gojo grumbles, taking his seat once more and immediately getting back to work. He pauses when he notices your frozen state, softly nudging your shoulder with his to catch your attention. You turn towards him, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away and nodding your head to let him know you're fine.

On the inside, you're shaking, silently berating yourself for pulling away from Geto. But you're not naive; you know that somewhere down along the line, meeting Geto's eyes had become easy, and being around him didn't fill your stomach with butterflies the way it used to. Instead, you simply felt the comfort and happiness that came with spending time with a friend, someone who you trusted wholeheartedly.

Taking a sip of your drink, you close your eyes, head spinning with thoughts of Geto's words as you finally accepted what you had been trying so hard to deny.

You could no longer look Gojo Satoru in the eye.

"Fuck you," you mutter the next morning, being met with a smirk from Geto as soon as the two of you walk across campus.

"What's wrong?" he asks, tone slightly mocking as he slings an arm across your shoulders.

"You know exactly what's wrong," you reply, huffing when you feel him rub your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

"Morning," Shoko greets, nodding at the two of you when you come to a stop in front of her and Gojo. You reply quietly, glancing at Gojo to see him already staring at Geto's arm. You attempt to shrug it off casually, ignoring the snicker that leaves Geto's lips at your action.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?" Gojo asks, coming to your side and leaning against the wall. You nod silently, suddenly hyperaware of the way his smile seems to be just the slightest bit lopsided. You find yourself wondering how he manages to look good even though you know he stays up late more often than not. "I missed you last night. The video call just wasn't the same after you fell asleep."

"He kept you on the line and yelled at me when I dropped my water bottle," Geto says dully, earning a glare from Gojo.

"It was loud!"

"It fell on the rug! There was barely any sound!" Geto retorts, smirking when he sees Gojo's cheeks darken.

You chuckle nervously, glancing at the time before grabbing Geto's hand and dragging him away. "Well, it's time for class. See you both later!"

Shoko and Gojo watch as you drag Geto down the hall, Gojo's gaze focused on your linked hands. Shoko follows his line of view, snorting as she raises an eyebrow.

"Looks like they finally confessed, huh?" Shoko asks, causing Gojo to turn and give her a bewildered expression. "Oh come on, we all knew they liked each other."

Shoko's sly tone sets off warning bells in Gojo's head, but he can't help the mildly panicked look that spreads across his face at her words.

"Wait," he says, his breath catching in his throat as he pauses. "Geto actually likes them back? I thought he was just friendly with them."

"Why are you so surprised?" Shoko asks, keeping a straight face as she speaks. "Isn't this what you wanted? To help them get together?"

"I—," Gojo pauses, blinking a few times before composing himself. "You're right."

Shoko snorts at Gojo's response, shaking her head when she noticed the conflicted look in his eyes. "You like them."

"No, I don't," Gojo scoffs, avoiding Shoko's gaze as he looks around. A cry of surprise leaves his lips when he feels Shoko's hand grasp his jaw, twisting his face to look in your direction. His eyes soften when they land on you, the corners of his lips twitching as he watches you pout at Geto.

A frown appears on his face as he pulls himself away from Shoko, grabbing his backpack before quickly walking away. She trails after him, lips pulled up in a smirk as she watches him.

"I like them," Gojo eventually mutters, watching Shoko's smirk grow.

"I know," she quips, earning a dirty look from him. "You should tell them. They still haven't confessed to Geto and I've never seen you act this way over anyone."

Gojo stops walking at Shoko's words, giving her a distraught look as he processes her words. "You lied to me?"

"Yeah."

Neither you nor Gojo notice the satisfied nods that Shoko and Geto exchange during lunch.

It's abnormally silent, with Gojo shoveling his food into his mouth while you just push yours around. Geto looks at the two of you before glancing at Shoko, wondering if they should be the ones to break the silence.

Geto opens his mouth to speak, finally having had enough of the silence, only to stop when Shoko places a hand on his arm. She tilts her head towards Gojo, noticing the way he keeps glancing at you and your food. There's a soft smile on his lips, one that Geto had seen Gojo give you one too many times while the three of you had studied together.

"So," Gojo starts, stretching the words out as he leans in close to you. "Are you gonna finish that?"

An annoyed expression flits across your face, and Geto and Shoko lean back in their seats as they watch the two of you.

"Hello? Anybody in there?" Gojo asks, scooting closer to you when you ignore him. He wraps an arm around the back of your seat, a big, teasing grin on his face as he looks at you over his sunglasses.

You remain in place, doing your best to ignore both the close proximity between the two of you and the slight racing of your heart. You can feel Gojo looming over you, and you're all too aware of the cocky smile on his face as he watches you.

"Are you ignoring me right now?" he asks, humming lightly when he doesn't receive an answer. Shoko and Geto watch as he grabs his chopsticks, inching them closer and closer to your food. He stops when your hand clamps down on his, tightly grabbing it and pushing it away from your plate.

"Stop," you scold, rolling your eyes when he makes another attempt. "You finished your meal, leave mine alone."

"But I'm still hungry!" he whines, successfully managing to steal a bite. "Besides, it's not like you're eating it."

"Shove it, Gojo!" you snap, pulling your food away and turning to face him. You feel your cheeks flood with heat when you meet his eyes, and you watch as his smirk slowly drops into a soft smile.

"Not ignoring me anymore?" he asks, snickering when you roll your eyes.

"No, but I can start again," you scoff, smacking his chopsticks our of his hand as he goes in for more food. He whines softly, pouting as he holds up his reddening hand.

"You're so mean!" he complains, shoving his hand in your face. "I know what you can do to fix this. Kiss it better!"

"Kiss it yourself," you retort, pushing his hand down onto the table. "I don't want to be anywhere near your disgusting hand."

"My hand is not disgusting!" he exclaims. "It's super clean. I wash my hands."

"I'm sure you do."

"I do! Just ask Geto!"

"I sincerely doubt it," you retort, absentmindedly swiping at his hand. Your action causes his hand to slide across the table, and Gojo's body lurches forward at the loss of balance. The two of you freeze when his lips brush against yours, eyes wide as your breaths mingle.

"The two of you make me sick," Shoko comments, although her words are lighthearted. "I'm gonna go smoke, I don't know how much more of Gojo's lovesick smiles I can handle."

The two of you separate when you hear Geto snort, exchanging soft apologies as you look anywhere but each other.

"So I'm guessing that Gojo wasn't exactly hungry for food," Geto teases, his tone dry as the two of you look at him. You flip him off, earning a chuckle from Shoko as she walks off.

"You can say that again," Gojo jests, laughing when you smack his chest. He grabs your hand swiftly, pushing it away and stopping your attack. "Why are you hitting me? That was funny!"

Geto takes in your embarrassed expression, fighting back a smile before he stands up as well. "I'll leave you two alone."

You watch as Geto walks away, following after Shoko and leaving you and Gojo in silence.

"So," Gojo starts, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "You didn't pull away."

"No, I didn't," you reply quietly, still not looking at Gojo.

"You're trembling," Gojo says, your hand shaking slightly in his hold. "Why?"

You stay silent, only tightening your hold on his hand as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

"You like me," Gojo states softly, finally drawing your attention to him. A smile tugs at his lips when you meet his eyes, and he pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head when you nod. "What happened to liking Geto?"

You shrug lazily, making a noncommittal noise at you let him pull you towards him. He leans down to press a kiss against your temple, making you look up at him with mild surprise on your face.

"Can we try that again?"

Gojo leans in when you nod, and you feel your heart stutter in your chest as he presses his lip to yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, shyly moving your lips against Gojo's in response. He slips his hand out of yours in order to wrap it around your back, pulling you closer to him as his other hand pulls you half into his lap . Your hands press against his chest, balling up the fabric of his shirt in your fists as you try to process the fact that you're currently kissing Gojo Satoru.

The smell of his cologne makes your head spin, and you can't help the way your press yourself closer to him as he tilts your head up to deepen the kiss.

"So... am I a good kisser?" Gojo asks when the two of you pull away, leaning his forehead against yours as he observes you.

"Gojo," you sigh, shifting out of his lap but remaining in his arms.

"I think I am," he continues, eyes shining as he looks at you. "Especially with the way you were kissing back and—"

"Gojo!"

"—and the way you pressed yourself closer to me, and—"

"Satoru!" you finally yell, getting his attention. He stops talking, blinking at the sound of his first name before answering.

"Yeah?"

"What are we?" you ask, pausing slightly before shaking your head. "What was that? Why did you do that?"

Gojo scoffs, moving his hands to cup your face. "Isn't it obvious? I kind of like you."

"Only kind of?" you ask, your stomach twisting as you tease him.

"Ok, fine," Gojo concedes, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "I really like you."

A pause ensues between the two of you, and you raise an eyebrow when you notice Gojo pouting.

"What?" you ask, unable to look away from him due to his hands still cupping your face.

"You're supposed to say it back," he says, a low whine leaving his lips when you remain silent. You snicker softly, reaching up to grab his hands and holding them in your own.

"Gojo Satoru," you begin, sending him a soft smile that has his heart melting. "You're a fucking nightmare—"

"Hey!"

"And you're pretty annoying, and rude, and petty, and—"

"Ok! I get it!"

"But!" you say, giving him a look that screamed 'shut up!'. "I kind of really like you too."

Gojo grins before leaning in to peck your lips, chuckling when he hears you squeak in surprise.

"So," he says, an alarmingly devious smile on his face. "Does this mean that now i'm the only one that makes your heart race and palms sweat?"

You glare at him as he giggles, getting up and grabbing your stuff before walking away.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"To find Geto," you reply dryly, smirking when you hear Gojo scrambling after you.

"You don't mean that, right? Babe?"

A laugh leaves your lips as Gojo catches up to you, gently taking your backpack from you and swinging it over his shoulder. He reaches for your hand and pulls you close to him, his offended expression softening when he sees you laughing.

Sure, Gojo Satoru was a fucking nightmare, but you couldn't deny that he really did make your heart race. And you were lucky enough to have him in your life.

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

Imagine being married to a version of Miguel (pt. 2)

Dark!Miguel O’Hara x reader

(Part 1)

Summary: In your universe, you are Spider-Woman… but you’re also Mrs. O’Hara. In Part Two, things start to escalate.

AN: Scenarios and bullet-points.

TW: MDNI, mature situations (non-con voyeurism, obsession, male mast., consensual times with your husband.), Angst, Jealousy, Dark!Miguel/Yandere!Miguel

With each day that passes, he can feel himself becoming more and more obsessed with you. With this life that could have been his. He's falling deep into the same trap as before. Instead of sending you out into the field, he’s making you stay at HQ for longer, and longer hours.

He tells you it’s because you’re a scientist. And… you are! It’s nice to have time just to study this phenomenon. Brings back good memories. Memories of studying and experimenting with your Aunt at OsCorp. Before… well, you know.

It brings you and Miguel-A closer too. Just as it had between you and the Miguel O’Hara you married. Talking for hours about tech, theories on the multi-verse, and debating if pork empanadas were better than beef.

There are times where the hours drift away. Where his shoulders relax and your hand touches his arm. Miguel-A imagines that this must be what life is like with you. The feel of your hand, your laugh, small things that make him slip into that trap again. He finds himself leaning down to you. The smell of your hair… that space where your neck meets your shoulder looks so tantalizing.

He looks at you. And, God, you almost forget he’s not your husband. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t had time with your Hubbie lately, but Miguel-A is hard to ignore. He’s a version of your husband! How can you not touch him and get him coffee like you would your man?

That day you touched his arm, and he leaned into you, that was too far. You took your hand away and apologized profusely. Which snapped him out of his own fantasy, and made him sour for about a week.

Miguel-A didn't like to eavesdrop, but he did it. And it was becoming a real bad habit. Craning his neck to hear you talking to Miguel-B. One day, he found himself engrossed in your private conversation on the phone.

“I just don’t like how long he’s keeping you there lately," his alternate said.

You shook your head and asked, “Why? I’m helping fix the multi-verse, or did you like being stuck in traffic for three hours because of a pterodactyl Green Goblin?”

“It’s not the work that bothers me and you know that," the thinly veiled accusation has Miguel-A’s jaw clenched. Judging by how you sigh, it seems you've talked about this for quite some time. Miguel-A creeps further around the corner, cloaked in shadow.

“Babe, I keep telling you. He’s not like that. He’s...” Miguel-A leaned in further. What did you think of him? You were defending him, that must mean that you... stop. He needed to stop. “I’m pretty sure he hates my guts, sooo."

Miguel-A heard his alternate laugh from the phone “Now that I have a hard time believing."

“Huh?”

“He’s me, sort of. I can’t imagine any version of me that doesn’t fall for you,” at that… Miguel-A had to agree.

Of all the variations of Miguel O’Hara that he had witnessed, there were only two where he was happy. The Miguel who Gabriella called “Papa,” and the Miguel you were currently talking to. A version you married and were trying to have children with. Any version of him would kill to have this be his canon.

The sound of you cooing “Aww! Babe, you’re so cute.”

“H-Hey! This is ‘concerned-husband-time’, I am not trying to be romantic here! I just…”

You interrupted him “It doesn’t matter how many Miguel O’Hara’s there are in the multi-verse, I married only one of them. And he’s the only one for me.”

“Ay querida...” your husband and his alternate whispered in unison.

“Once we fix these rips in space and time, I won’t be coming back. Everything will go back to our version of normal. Okay?”

What? Oh. That’s right. That is the mission. The point of all of this. Still Miguel-A feels his heart pounding. The thought of you just… gone. It’ll be like you never even existed.

“Okay. And don’t think this is me not trusting you. Because I do. I just don’t trust that Wo—“

“Oh! Hey, Work Husband!” you end the call the moment you catch sight of Miguel-A. Phew, that was close! How awkward would it have been if he had heard all of that?

He keeps telling himself that he’ll back off. And then he escalates. When you go home, Miguel-A is watching. Listening. After watching you make love to your husband all those weeks ago, he starts to record it. Secretly. In an encrypted file where he isolated the audio so it’s just you. Just. You.

Miguel-A listens to these files when he’s alone. Stripping himself bare and laying in his bed with his headset on. The sound of your labored breathing and frantic whispers helping him fall back into the fantasy. Crying out for “Miguel,” moaning for him to go faster. Harder. “Bite me, fuck, bite me!” You’re panting. Babbling as you lose yourself in your pleasure.

He's taking himself in his hand, pumping his cock and picturing it's you. Your hands, your lips, your cunt. Miguel-A tries to visualize how you would look above him. Rocking your hips as you take him inside of you. How your lips look as you say such beautiful, filthy things "You're so deep... H-Hold my hips, yeah... help me move. I love you, I love you so much...! F-Fuck! Ah!"

At the sound of you declaring your love, he cums with you on the recording. He always does. And it's what happens after that leaves him feeling sick and murderous in his envy. The recording ends. His eyes open. And he is so painfully aware of where he is, of who he is. Laying on his back alone, his seed cooling on his stomach in this dark room. Alone.

When the tears in the multi-verse heal, you'll be gone. Wait. The multi-verse. The algorithm... How many people have you lost again? Just your Aunt, right?

"It's your canon event, I'm sorry"

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

⌗ two slow dancers ₊ ˖ ་. gojo satoru x fem reader (1.2k)

genre . . angst, rejection, reader just wants to be loved, gojo's kinda a dick, mitski did this to me summary . . why can't he love you? what have you done wrong? note . . i'm thinking abt the guy who didn't want me rn sorry

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur, your voice nothing above a faint whisper. Fear of judgment is laced within it, something you can’t help but wish you could get rid of. “It’s going to sound ridiculous, and if you think so you can just ignore me.” He’s going to ignore me.

However, Gojo sits up straighter. His eyes are intending to focus on you. “Nothing you say is ridiculous. I’m always here to listen.” You want to believe him so badly. There’s nothing else in the world that you wish for. All you need is a confession, him reciprocating the depth of your feelings, but you know that’s impossible. If he felt the same, he wouldn’t have started seeing that girl; no matter the fact that she’s wonderful for him, amazing, and kind. If she’s so amazing, what are you doing wrong? What is it about her that you can’t compare to? You know you’d be perfect for Gojo. He’s your best friend. He’s the person who knows you better than anyone, so why is it that he doesn’t love you the same way you love him? It doesn’t make sense. 

What are you doing wrong?

“...am I difficult to love?” You feel like you already know the answer. It’s a pointless question that’s been eating you up inside for years, ever since you first met and he instantly treated you as a friend when you wanted to be loved by him. “I know it’s silly, but I feel so helpless.”

Without realizing it, your words flow from your lips like a river streaming downhill. Not even the largest dam could hold in your insecurities. “I try so hard, everyday to be kind and patient and perfect; but no one seems to notice. Is there something that everyone else has that I don’t? What am I missing that makes me invisible? Why do I feel so stuck while the world keeps moving and progressing and making changes that I can’t keep up with? Why don’t you love me?”

There it is. 

There’s the question that you’ve swallowed down for the past ten years of knowing Gojo Satoru…and somehow…

…it seems that he already knows the answer. 

“I do love you.”

In half a second, your heart beats faster. It swells with an overwhelming pink feeling that practically causes it to burst. You almost see stars. In your imagination you’re flying through the night sky, weaving constellations together as you hold Gojo’s hand and ask him what he’s wishing on that shooting star, oh so close to you. So close, yet so far. So far, that it never reaches you; because nothing is ever as it seems. It isn’t a wish racing your way, it’s a meteorite. A meteor thats target is the home in your heart that you’ve made so lovingly for your best friend. The flaming rock finds your weakest point and begins to wither it away into nothing but hopeless shreds of dreams. In a half a second, you were on the top of the world. In a half a second, your world was destroyed. 

“I just don’t love you in the way you want me to.”

You’re a fool. You knew this was coming.

“I can’t imagine my life without you.” Shut up. Why can’t he just shut up? You don’t need these filler words, these empty statements that he’s only saying to make you feel better about your worthless self. “You’re such an important part of my everyday.” Shut up!

It’s so hard to hold in the tears. Your dam already burst— but instead of a river, it seems that you’ve got an ocean of feelings. This ocean is polluted, though. It’s littered in trash and oil, after years of wanting something that was never yours. Other men have thrown their waste in your waters and Gojo’s always been the one to clean it up. He’s always made you laugh…made you smile…made you believe that everything is going to be okay as long as you trust him. Now, you’ve made the mistake of trusting him with your heart; when he’s never cared if it shatters. 

“Please don’t say those things to me.” It’s pathetic, the whimper shaking from the tip of your tongue. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Gojo isn’t even replying to you. He’s simply staring with the most pitiful look in his eyes, as if you’re a dying animal that he’s just shot with a rifle. How do you make him stop looking at you like that? You’re better than this! Just suck it up and smile!

Somehow, you find yourself laughing. “Don’t worry about it, Satoru. I’ll be fine, it’s just a silly little crush.” You’re lying. 

It’s so obvious you’re lying. 

He’s never been a crush. If he was a fleeting crush, then you wouldn’t spend your nights thinking of how you made him smile earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know his favorite place, song, and movie at the top of your head. You wouldn’t imagine his face whenever you picture your wedding day— at the end of the aisle, smiling at you with tears in his eyes. If he was just a little crush, it wouldn’t feel like your entire world is ending. 

“I know you’ve liked me, it’s a little obvious.” He shrugs. “I just assumed you’d get over it?” 

He knew? He’s known all this time?

There’s a war raging between your heart and your mind. It’s a battlefield with logic on one side and love on the other. The rational part of you knows that he can’t help his feelings. He can’t force himself to reciprocate something that he’s never felt before. That’s unfair to him, and you can’t make him love you…

…but the other half of you can’t accept that. 

After all these years of waiting for him. Years and years of watching your closest friends find love, be loved, and experience all of the firsts that you’ve always wanted to experience with him by your side. He doesn’t love you. You’ve known Gojo Satoru since you were ten years old. You’re twenty now and still so delusional that you believe he can feel the same way. Why can’t he, though? Gojo knows you from front to back. If there’s anyone in the world who could write an encyclopedia titled with your name, it’s him; and he still doesn’t love you. You’re the person who’s been there for him through countless breakups and temper tantrums. You’re the one who he trusts most in this world, yet he will never…ever…want you back. 

Someone is writing the story of the world. Someone is tying the strings of fate, the line of destiny, or whatever you want to call it; and that someone isn’t on your side. They never have been and they never will be…

…at least not in the case of Gojo Satoru. 

“I’ll try my best.” A phony smile graces your face and you’re now realizing that he’s never once called you beautiful. Yet, you still want him. Perhaps it’s human nature to wish for the things that are terrible for you. “You don’t have to worry about me, Satoru. I’ll be fine.”

Yeah, maybe in ten years. 

“I’ll be able to forget about this.”

You don’t think you will.

“I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

Your feelings are an inconvenience.

“It’s nothing.”

It was love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

Radom thought, too shy to post on main:

Wriothesley using reader tits as a way to relax. Bro is to stressed in his work, and reader arrives sweetly to have lunch with him. He looks at that pretty dress, how her breasts look perfect with this corset.

I was shy about hornyposting on main too once. Then I was corrupted and now I love it.

Pairing: Wriothesley x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, office sex, breast worship, nipple play, cum shot, titfucking, groping, messy

A/N: All booba is good booba and I will always stand by that.

If you ask Wriothesley there is no better meal than you. How could anything compare to how sweet you taste on his tongue or how soft your breasts feel in his hand? Nothing will ever make his mouth water more than seeing you walk into his office with homemade food but at the same time looking like the only thing he needs to eat. Fucking hell, you knew this would happen, it's why you dressed like you did in the first place, the low cut, perfect for him to take off.

Fact is that for Wriothesley you are the ultimate way to replenish his energy and get rid of his stress at the same time. He will eat the food first, the last thing he wants is to seem rude, but he'll do it as quickly as he can so there's still time to be with you. After the food he'll sit you on the table, slowly pull your corset down and thumb your nipples until they pebble under his touch. He does this while watching you so intently, watching as your panties grow damp from his hands moving and groping.

Wriothesley knows you won't be able to handle his mouth without letting out some sounds so while one hand is busy pinching, rolling and pulling at your nipple the other is against your mouth, keeping your moans silent. Don't worry, the other nipple won't go without attention, that's what his mouth is for. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, keeping the stiff peak warm and safe while the other is abused and tesed by his fingers until it's sensitive. Even blowing on it feels like too much when he switches the positions. But you can't help yourself, you press his head and mouth closer, moaning against his hand, grinding against his pulsing bulge until you orgasm.

You're not a selfish lover and neither is he, you know that when he gets in this mood the only way to appease him is on your knees. Wriothesley almost falls over when he feels your soft tits massageing his hard cock, moving up and down until only the tip pokes out. A perfect distance for your tongue to dart out and lick the cum off. His hands grab onto the desk as he starts moving his hips, your mouth open to aceept and suck the angry, red, leaking tip whenever it arrives. The moans aren't yours this time, they're his and he is very loud when he enjoys himself to the fullest.

Minutes, hours it doesn't matter how long you've been on your knees, you don't care when he gets like this, feral because of you. He won't hold back, he can't hold back any of his cum when he's fucking those perfect tits, that warm mouth, when your eyes are looking up at him, worldessly asking him to come, come now, come hard, come all over your tits, nipples and face. Wriothesley makes a fine mess of you, white cum painting the upper half of your body, sticky strings leading from your mouth to his cock. Doesn't matter how messy it is, he pulls you up into his lap and proceeds to clean you up with his skilled tongue, worshiping every bit of you that aceepted his cum.

"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."