#but until then i too shall rest
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scandiacamoons · 1 year ago
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Thank you for s2 of TIGER & BUNNY
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dkettchen · 2 years ago
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I have elected to live in the best timeline instead of watching the like 30+ new eps I should probably catch up on so uhhh--- 
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marclef · 3 months ago
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What’s the relationship like between Peppino and Fake Pep? I wonder what its like to be friends with a literal clone of yourself…
hoo boy, it's a very interesting thing indeed! (and something i'm WAY too enthusiastic about sharing my ideas about hehehe 👀💧) especially when the clone of yourself is completely different from you in morals, tastes, actions, interactions..... just about the only thing that's similar is looks.
that's not to say that Peppino and his Fake don't get along though! it's gotten... better since Fake Peppino first showed up at Peppino's Pizza and then refused to ever leave. at least Fake Peppino has no desire to kill Peppino any more, he's a fellow Peppino and that would just be rude! not to mention how he regrets trying to kill him before... but it's all fine now!!
Fake treats Peppino with a decent amount of respect, part of it just because he considers Peppino a friend now, and part of it being how badly Peppino kicked his ass for things in the past. there's still an awful lot of things Fake Peppino does that makes most normal people uncomfortable... Peppino included. making inhuman noises, hiding in cramped spots just to jump out and spook you, eating things that definitely aren't meant to be eaten... Fake's fairly comfortable in his new home, and while Peppino feels a lot better about him, there's still times that it makes him feel a bit... anxious.
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seeing something that once tried to kill you and still acts very off sometimes, acting as if you're a dear friend and snuggling up to you like a beloved family dog, that IS a little bit... uncomfortable, to say the least. but at least things could be worse... Fake could still be trying to kill Peppino like he was made to do.
there ARE a lot of things that Fake Peppino does though, in attempts to actually benefit Peppino. whether or not these are ACTUALLY good things is very debatable. clearing out any pest that make their way in is pretty nice at least, but then there's the more... questionable things that Fake does to try and help. for example, Fake doesn't tolerate any kind of rudeness towards Peppino or his restaurant. he still considers himself a Peppino in a sense, and sees the pizzeria as both Peppino's AND his own, so insulting either of those is the last thing you want to do.
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do NOT ever behave in an unruly manner, or say rude things about Peppino in his pizzeria. you never know who might be listening...
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... or that it might be the last mistake you ever make. be wary while making your way home after that... there might just be something that's tagged alongside you.
.... it IS a little worrying to Peppino that most rude customers never seem to show up again... but maybe they just stuck to their word and left? surely that's the explanation for it... Fake Peppino does look rather well-fed today though... but ah well... at least that's less angry customers to deal with?
but see, Fake Peppino DOES genuinely care for Peppino's well-being now! and Peppino, though still fairly wary, is at least thankful that he's not a threat to him. so while it's not exactly the most comfortable life, at least Fake doesn't cause Peppino any trouble... not that he knows much about.
but it WOULD help him feel a bit better, if Fake Peppino's instincts would stop acting up from time to time. there's only so many times that Fake's "kill and/or eat Peppino" brain instincts can kick in before it starts getting real uncomfortable. but at least he's not ACTUALLY trying to kill Peppino... it just tends to be that from time to time, Peppino might find himself getting licked or gently nibbled on. a wee bit unsettling when it's meant to be a clone of yourself doing that.... at least he's not really eating you??
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so... uncomfortable at times, but could be worse! Fake Peppino can be fairly handy to have on hand too, a nice helper for cleaning and keeping watch! just.... don't worry about where some of the ruder customers have been going... i'm sure they're just fine.
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tetzoro · 3 months ago
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hiya sweet friendz and happy timezones !!! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) i’m feeling so much better than i have all weekend and i’m so very thankful :’) but now i’m preparing to fight off the sunday scaries with silliness !! i hope everyone has had a restful & relaxing weekend !! mwah mwah 🤍
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psalacanthea · 3 months ago
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lol decarbing kind of interferes with perfume making
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ljubimaya · 3 months ago
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Thinking about my wip counts as working on it right????
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mothram · 1 year ago
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youtube
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chika-nyan · 2 years ago
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VACATION TIME!!!!!! Vacation all I ever wantedddddddddd- Lies down. Gonna take a strong dirt nap for the first few days then I shall rise once more 8U)b
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orcelito · 2 years ago
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From what I can tell, ITNL is the only committed longfic time travel au for vashwood. Which is a Little strange to me, coming from p5 fandom where it feels like every other longfic is a NG+ au (not a bad thing, it's just very common)
And me sitting here like. Is there really... no one else doing one like this?
Makes me even more dedicated to what I'm doing lol
#speculation nation#itnl shit#not the only time travel au but most of them (from what i see at least) are time loops rather than true time travel#which the actual specifics of that are getting up to semantics i think. it is still time travel#but itnl is the only one that's got my specific explanation for it At The Very Least. which makes me feel a bit more confident#overall i just want to do something special. i want to do something New. & i want people to enjoy it.#discacc is a landmark for p5 soulmate aus and i want itnl to be a landmark for vw time travel aus#my specialty being finding a common trope that's not been done very much in a fandom (comparatively) & Committing To The Bit#41k feels so short to me still but it's among the longest trigun fics now. and it's only gonna keep growing.#shoot for the stars & all that business lol#full respect to ppl who just do one shots bc those r important too#but i have a fatal case of Look At This and Committing To The Bit that has me picking one idea and just shoving it in ppls faces#over and over and over again until ppl start to properly appreciate it. And So It Shall Go.#most of all i want to make something that will be Remembered. something that stands apart from the rest.#sentido is good enough with a relatively creative structure. but it's just smth that ppl read & think 'oh that was good' & then move on#i want itnl to worm into people's BRAINS. i want people to read it and feel flayed alive.#i want it to be something that people can never forget. and Such Is My Goal lol.#it's 10 am im still in bed and ive been here for almost 14 hours now. i have no business thinking this hard about this lmao#but the thoughts are there. i have a Goal. and im going to see it through.
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rafesangelita · 26 days ago
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౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 rafe is tired, but never too tired to have pretty little sheep!reader bouncing on his cock <3
warnings: dealer!rafe, light fluff, sleepy sex, riding & reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, spanking, hair pulling, use of the name ‘daddy’, tit sucking
a/n: sheep!reader has been getting heavily requested.. so ask and you shall receive! i’ll be giving longer fics a small break until my pogue!sweetheart!reader series is done because my brain is actually going to explode lol
nothing felt better than coming home to you after a long day of bullshit and seeing you in nothing but those cute thigh high socks of yours. especially when you were so needy and willing to do all of the work. you’d give rafe what felt like a thousand kisses all over his face, his arms wrapped around your waist as you gushed about how much you missed him and thought about him all day. “yeah? i missed you more.” you’d smile at his words, quickly getting him out of his clothes.
you massaged the tension out of his shoulders and left trails of kisses along his skin, your boyfriend growing more relaxed as your skilled hands worked to get him unwinded. by the time you were finished, he was barely able to keep his eyes open, his heavy-lidded gaze meeting yours. “what do you want, baby? you’ve been looking at me like you got something on your mind..” your cheeks heated in response, his fingers dancing along your flesh.
“i know you’re tired.. but can i get on top?” a lazy smile made its way to rafe’s lips before he pulled you onto his lap.
“fuck, yeah.”
those two words were all the confirmation you needed, your shaky hands planted on rafe’s thighs as you moved on top of him, his cock filling you to the hilt. watching you move so fluidly on top of him was enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head, the sight of your soaked cunt gripping him with every drag of your hips drew more moans from him than the last. “ah, f-fuck! you’re just taking that shit..” rafe was mesmerized, his large palm resting in the curve of thigh.
you cried out when his hand came down on the globe of your ass, a stinging sensation spreading across your sensitive skin. “riding me dumb, huh?” rafe grunted, wrapping a fist in your hair before pulling you back against his chest. you were arched almost painfully in this position, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “poor baby, here by herself all day..” you whimpered, his free hand snaking down your tummy until he had your clit pinched between his fingers.
you shrieked, white, hot pleasure blinding your vision. rafe knew your body like the back of his hand. he knew what would have you yelping in pain, and what would make you all soft and warm like putty in his hands. “riding daddy makes you so fucking wet,” your hips stuttered when rafe starting rubbing hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the lewdness of his words, “just letting me use you like the cock slut you are, right?”
“y-yes!” you whimpered, sighing in relief when he let your hair go. “make yourself cum, ‘pretty girl, let me feel you.” rafe watched as you leaned forward, your back arching deliciously as you bounced on his length. your ass met rafe’s thighs in rhythmic claps, the sound making both of you moan. “turn around, precious, ‘needa see that pretty face.” you slid off of him for a moment, finally swinging a leg over his lap before sinking back down on his cock.
pushing his face into your chest, you whined when you felt him take one of your tits in his mouth, his tongue circling around the sensitive bud. he licked and sucked as you worked to make both of you cum. you relished in these moments when you two were panting into each other’s mouths, skin hot and burning with fiery need and desire, never wanting it to end. rafe’s abs constricted as he inched closer and closer to his climax, your thighs aching for a break.
“don’t fucking stop..” rafe dug his fingers in the flesh of your hips, “oh, my god, don’t stop!” he repeated, your eyes brimming with tears as your clit slapped against his pubic bone. as soon as you doubled over, your head falling against his shoulder, rafe knew the band in your tummy finally snapped, his own orgasm hitting him at the same time. embracing you tightly, rafe thrusted up from below you so you could just cum without keeping up your pace.
you shook against him, tears rolling down your cheek and onto his collarbone as you reveled in each wave of pure bliss. rafe’s mouth stayed open, his eyes screwing shut as you milked him for all that he had. eventually, you two came to a stop, your breaths being the only sound in the room. if rafe felt tired before, he was even more drained now.. literally. nothing beat his pretty thing of a girlfriend taking his load at the end of the night.
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moshieee-but-evil · 11 months ago
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Want a shiny rock? (heard and saw you were having a rough time and I think you're feeling better but I could be wrong because I have a bad ememory but rocks make everything good so either way, have one)
-ADHD meds anon again (I'll just go by 🦋 from now on because I'm a lazy being)
Haha thank you, rocks to indeed help it's easy for me to spiral even after feeling better
And I know how you feel 🦋
it's nice to put.... An emoji to the anon?(Some sort of messed up face to the name metaphor thing?)
It's not lazyness tho it's just demotivation so don't be down on yourself I mean look at you! you're finding a solution rather than giving up! That's pretty good in my opinion :)
And thank you for sending this to the personal emotions blog thingy or whatever it is here
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months ago
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normal procedure
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words: 2.1k
warnings: 18+ only!!, dubcon, gynecologist!rafe, patient!reader, virgin!reader, gyno exam, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex
a/n: we can pretend that this is a roleplay scenario because obviously no real doctor would do this, lets all take a breath and remember this is fanFICTION aka not real or an endorsement by me (or my readers) of anything in this story
“oh, um-” you gulp, blinking as the fluorescent lights shine down on you.
“your feet ma’am.” he repeats, tapping the stirrups. you lift your legs, well aware that you're lacking any sort of underwear underneath your hospital gown.
your doctor secures your legs in the straps before his eyes drift to your center, now on display with your parted thighs.
you gasp and pull your gown down to somewhat cover yourself.
“ma’am, i assure you this is all part of the normal exam.”
“i-i-” you swallow thickly, blinking again, swearing the lights are only getting brighter, hotter, as a bead of sweat forms and falls on your forehead. “what's your name?”
“im doctor rafe cameron. certified gynecologist. you can just call me rafe though.” he explains softly. “and there is no need to be nervous.”
“okay… how long have you been a gynecologist?”
“asking all these questions is just going to delay what we need to get done.” rafe says. “shall we begin?”
“i suppose.” you nod. you know usually girls wait until after they have sex for the first time to visit, but with your twenty first birthday coming up as still a virgin, you decided you might as well stop delaying the inevitable.
“im just going to lift your gown.” rafes hands are slow and gentle as he brings the hem up, revealing your bare cunt to him.
“does it all… look okay?” you question. 
“you look perfect.” rafe says, his voice lowering in tone as he reaches for his gloves, pulling the latex over his long, slender fingers.
“okay.” you nod. surely a doctor would know. it lessens your anxiety the tiniest bit.
“im going to touch you now, okay?” rafe looks up at you, and his eye contact holds you still, blue eyes gleaming with intensity as they look into your brown ones.
“y/f/n?” 
“oh, yes.” you nod quickly. “yes, that's fine.”
rafe hums, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. “so if i read your chart correctly, you haven't had sex yet?”
“no, s-sir.” you shake your head, eyes moving to the ceiling to avoid that captivating gaze, even if the fluorescents make your eyes hurt.
rafe mutters something under his breath, but you're sure your ears are just playing tricks on you. no way he would whisper “perfect” to himself. surely he's a professional.
rafe lays two fingers on your inner thigh and your entire body jolts, the gloves cold against your bare skin.
“it's okay.” rafes other hand rests on your thigh, rubbing gently with his thumb. “im going to begin the exam, if you feel any discomfort at any point just tell me.”
“okay.” you nod, and you swear despite the chilly gloves, his touch leaves a trail of fire as he brings his two fingers closer to your pussy, before suddenly swiping through your folds.
“oh!” you squeal out, hips lifting slightly before pushing back down.
“it's a normal bodily reaction.” rafe assures you before you can even feel embarrassment.
rafes fingers swipe through again, but at least you're expecting it this time. you blink quickly, trying to keep yourself calm as his other hand moves to join in examining your cunt.
“just going to use my thumbs to look around. let me know if it gets to be too much.”
just as rafe said, his thumbs begin to pull and poke at your skin. you move your gaze from the ceiling back down to rafe, seeing the same intensity in his eyes but now focused on your pussy.
“im going to touch you some place that may make you feel… fervent. please know that any reaction your body may have is normal and all part of the exam.” rafe places his thumb directly over your bud, and your body lights up like a firework.
you don't even realize you're moaning until the side of rafes mouth quirks up again into that signature smirk.
“oh!” you squeal again. “oh my god, im so sorry.”
“it's all normal.” rafe assures you. he gives you a moment to get used to the pressure on your clit, simply touching it with the pad of his thumb before he begins to swipe over it, stimulating your clit while his eyes move back and forth between your pussy and your face contorted in pleasure.
“is this supposed to feel so good?” you question. you didn't do much research on what actually happens when you get in the gynecologists chair, but you swear what you've heard from friends is that the exam isn't comfortable.
“yes.” rafe says simply, and you have no reason to not take his word as truth. “my thumb is going to stay there as i insert a finger.”
you nod, glad to have the distraction of his thumb moving around your clit, even if your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you grow wetter.
“hm, looks like i won't need any external lubricant.” rafe looks up at you. “sometimes i have to with virgins. but your pussy is perfect.”
“thank you?” your thought process is quickly shut off as rafes finger prods at your entrance, getting his gloves significantly wet.
“sorry if this is cold, but i have a feeling you'll warm me up quickly.” rafe pushes his finger inside slowly, and you have to tilt your head back and squeeze your eyes closed to keep more sounds from coming out of your mouth.
“does it all feel normal?” you're well aware at your voice must sound strained as rafes finger rubs against your inner walls.
“yes.” rafe says, this time his voice having an air of shakiness to it. “you're tight, but it's to be expected from a virgin.”
“s-sorry about that.” you can't tell if rafes emphasis on the word is negative or positive. “i didn't see myself losing it anytime soon so i scheduled my appointment.”
“and why is that darling?” rafe questions, his voice a purr as he begins to move his finger in and out in slow strokes.
“why am i a virgin? uhh…” you trail off. “i guess just haven't found the right guy yet.”
in truth, the whole idea of sex gets you nervous. hopefully after getting assurances that everything works okay down there, it'll be one less thing to be anxious about.
“we can take care of that today if you'd like.”
the thumb stroking over your clit flicks upward suddenly, making your hips jump up, legs straining in their spread position.
“what do you mean?” you ask, feeling and hearing rafes finger speed up, your slickness making it easier and easier for him to move.
“i can take your virginity. it's part of my duties as your doctor. only if you'd like, it's an optional part of the exam.”
“you mean like… insert something in me?”
“yes, my cock.” rafe smirks as he pulls his finger out, tapping against your wetness and letting the sound spread through the exam room.
“oh!” you look at rafe to make sure he's serious, but his expression doesn't convey any sort of joking around. “gynecologists do that?”
“for our virgin patients if they'd like. id wear a condom of course and take your virginity so it's less of an ordeal for you. and i can assure everything is working fine.”
“and by everything you mean…”
“making you cum.” rafes thumb applies a bit more pressure to your clit. “although you're already not far off, are you?”
“wouldn't know.” you can feel something growing in the pit of your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling you can't quite place.
“what do you say y/f/n?”
“s-sure.” you nod. “if this is all normal, i guess it's fine.”
“great.” rafe smiles, before looking down at your cunt. “ill have to work two fingers into you before fu- helping you lose your virginity.” he explains.
thankfully, his thumb keeps tapping and pressing down on your sensitive bud as a second finger lathers itself in your wetness, sliding through your folds before dipping into your cunt.
his finger are barely an inch inside before they're back out. “you'll have to excuse me for going one handed for a second.”
rafes thumb moves away from your clit, and you're about to cry out for more, immediately missing the feeling, when rafes mouth drops and his tongue takes its place.
“doctor!” you shout.
“all normal.” rafe assures you, his lips already shining with your juices. “taste is an important part of the exam too. and you're very sweet.”
you watch as rafes head dips again, his mouth working on your cunt as his two fingers that you hadn't even realized have been pushed inside of you begin to move.
rafes free hand reaches for his pants, pushing them down to get his already hard cock out. he begins to stroke as his tongue licks at your clit, fingers opening you up.
you feel another jolt of pressure when his fingers spread to scissor and close, scissor and close, working your gummy walls open for him.
rafe presses a series of wet, sloppy kisses over your cunt before restraining himself and pulling back, licking greedily over his lips to not waste your taste.
“are you ready?” rafe asks, reaching into a drawer to get a condom.
“yes.” you nod quickly. you're more than desperate now for his cock, especially as his fingers slide out and leave you empty to squeeze around nothing.
rafe stands up, bringing his cock up into your sight line. your eyes widen when you see he's much longer and thicker than his two fingers that were already a tight fit inside you.
“don't worry.” rafe says as he tears the foil of the condom before getting the rubber out and rolling it down his length. “im gonna take good care of you.”
your hips already sit at perfect height as rafe steps between your legs. you would close them out of shyness if it was at all possible.
rafe taps his tip over your clit, making you moan out, but you don't bother to hold back, not when rafe lets out a moan as well.
“the room is completely noise proof, and sounds are nothing to be embarrassed by.” rafe assures you as he rubs his cock against your pussy, thoroughly wetting himself before pushing against your entrance.
it's a slow push to break the ring of muscle, and then an easy slide once he's in.
“h-holy shit.” you whine out, hands gripping the side of the bed as rafes hips immediately begin to swing in and out.
“any pain?”
“none.” you answer quickly. there's no hiding the intense pleasure being brought to your body, especially when rafes thumb retakes its place on your clit.
“there ya go.” rafe smiles as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock. “i can tell you're getting close.”
rafe glances at the clock, wishing he could fuck you for longer, but if he extends the time for the exam too long the nurses will surely get suspicious.
“how does it f-ffffffff-” your ability to speak briefly lapses when rafes thrust speed up. “feel for you?” you manage to complete your sentence.
“your pussy feels amazing. you're so tight and warm. any guy would be lucky to be inside of you.” rafe says, his hips moving faster, desperate to cum. “perfect.”
you are practically glowing underneath the praise and impending orgasm, rafes thumb moving faster with real purpose now.
your head tips back and before you know it, a wash of light and pleasure has taken over your body, and you're moaning and twitching as what you're certain is your high breaks.
“that's it.” rafe smiles, feeling your pussy flutter around him, clit pulsing with the strength of your orgasm as he thrusts harder into your pussy, putting all his might into helping you ride out your orgasm and spur on his own.
rafe lodges his cock as deep inside of you as he can as he cums, briefly cursing the barrier of the condom from preventing himself from flooding your womb.
“very- good.” rafe pants, pulling out extra slow despite the clock ticking down, watching as your hole squeezes back tight as he pulls out.
rafe discards the condom and then his soaked gloves, sticky with your wetness before tucking himself back into his pants.
“take all the time you need.” rafe undoes the stirrups and let's your legs flop down. “ill come check on you in five minutes, i need to see if my other patient is here.”
and just as quickly as he entered, rafe leaves the room, leaving you with your pussy a sloppy mess and heart beating fast.
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averruncusho · 1 year ago
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you once told me about your helper, who was forced by her parents to abandon her lover to marry a man she didn’t know. Until now, I still don’t know why anyone would tolerate that. Why would you let your family ruin your happiness forever? It seems so stupid to me; why would you not choose freedom? I guess you always knew, and I guess I’ll never know
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
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so i have a habit of calling be love/babe/darling as a term of enderament (even in friendships) and was wondering how the dukedom guys would react to being called love or darling by the reader for the first time? I grt it probably wasnt as socially acceptable back then but the thought still plaques my mind
Historical accuracy who? We don’t know her shhh
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But they’d love it! At first, you had tried really hard to stop yourself and semi-succeeded by only calling your maids like that. Your parents always hated that habit of yours, a leftover from your nanny’s own habit. They had warned you again and again and again to not let your tongue run, to keep your words polite and demure, only fallen women working in brothels would speak so freely.
And you did keep it under control for a good while; with your interactions few with John, you could remind yourself not to let your tongue loose and call him honey right off the bat when he simply calls you by your name. It’s harder with Kyle, you almost slip and call him darling, same with Johnny. With Simon it’s easier because on the times he visits, you leave him to his meetings with John and don’t bother them. (Or what you thought were business meetings at that time lol)
But once they start getting closer to you, it’s inevitable that the nicknames start slipping out.
“Kyle, darling-“ you are rushing today, and the words slip out before you realize. You just spare a thought to wonder why he’s frozen solid like that. “Where is my hairpin? I was so sure we left it on my vanity?”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say to Johnny when he brings you a platter of fresh deserts while working, not lifting your head from the papers in front of you other than to flash him a quick, grateful smile. You don’t notice how long it takes before Johnny stutters out a ‘welcome, m’lady’ and leaves you be.
“Simon, honey?” You ask on another occasion, voice too worried to notice what you’d called him. No maids around, and no one would question you calling you husband’s ‘close friend’ by his name in your home. “Is your leg okay? You are leaning on it too much, shall I call the doctor?” His silence is typical to you, but too busy fussing over his leg, you don’t see his face. Until you look up, eyes widening at his averted eyes and red-tipped ears. “Are you sick, Simon? You should be resting instead, you know?”
And at last… “John, love,” you sigh softly, controlling the tremble of your limbs. You look away from the newspaper, though you believe it should just be called a glorified gossip magazing, and close your eyes. Duke Price’s Duchess remains barren of a child! Is a divorce in their future? “It’s alright, it is what it is-“ you try to calm him.
Up until now, from the moment you’d both read the headline, John had been fuming. He wasn’t loud in his anger, but it was clear in his ticking jaw and clenched fists. So you expect him to continue in his anger.
“…I will deal with it.” John promises, voice low but no longer a rolling thunder. He sits down calmer now, when you finally open your eyes to look at him. He’s simply gazing at you, and his hands clench in the air before he sets them down on the table. “They won’t be slandering you any longer, wife. I promise you.”
You wish you could pinpoint what soothed him, but alas. Though you know he will try his best and maybe this news agency won’t make anymore comments like this about you, others will still continue to do so.
“It’s alright.” You repeat, but the words ring hollow and the smile on your face is empty. You push your plate away. “Now, if my husband permits it, I don’t believe I can stomach much more.”
“You never need my permission for such things,” he tells you; a sentiment he’d told you from the very first day. His face softens. “Go rest. Today, I will take care of everything that needs to be done.”
Darling, sweetheart, honey, love… they wonder if you know how much those words repeat in their minds.
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k0yaz · 1 year ago
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idk if you write for more than one character at a time, but can i please request the male hashira x gn reader headcanons for when their crush sits on their lap? mostly fluff maybe slight spice? thanks
when you sit on their lap hcs
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Pairing(s): male hashira x gn!reader (except muichiro)
CW: sfw, slightly suggestive, gn!reader, lap sitting, very suggestive on tengen’s part, slight mention of thigh riding and grinding
A/N: again, I am so sorry this took awhile because I was on vacation I will be working on what’s in my inbox now <33
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Gyomei is weirdly calm about it
Probably because he’s blind or cause he doesn’t have a hard time keeping his composure
He’ll adjust himself so you have a more comfortable position to sit in
Keeps his arms wrapped around your waist or torso to help you balance on his thigh or wherever you’re sitting down
Rests his chin onto your head occasionally
Sometimes forgets to tell you to get off, and you guys just remain in that position for a long time just talking like normal
Another hashira would have to see you two and point it out in order for you to finally get off
Gyomei would apologize if necessary and let you off calmly
“Y/N, I enjoy you sitting on me, we should have more conversations like this.”
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Sanemi on the other hand is a little more aggressive…
When you sit down on his lap, he’s completely flustered, his face bright red and hot
He’d yell at you to get off, even though he made no effort to get you off
We know you enjoy it Sanemi it’s okay
If you got off, he’d growl under his breath and try to scoot himself closer to you until you sat back on him
If you stay on his lap, he averts his eyes from yours, and grits his teeth while blushing furiously
After some time of awkward silence of him holding your waist and you cuddling him in his lap, a thread basically snaps inside him, and he pulls you close to him, burying his face into your neck
Sanemi would plant your hips down using his bare hands, and press his teeth to your neck, making sure there’s no space between the two of you
“You got me all hot and bothered, Y/N. Now take responsibility you damn brat.”
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Rengoku would have a fairly normal, but excited reaction
He would laugh loudly and hug you tightly, smiling up/down at you as you’re situated on his lap
He allow you to rest your head onto his shoulder in a loving manner
Bro literally can’t stop smiling the whole time you’re on his lap
You two just sit there in a joyful manner, hugging each other tightly while laughing and smiling casually
Rengoku definitely holds onto you as tight as he can after atleast 10 minutes of cuddling
He just can’t get enough, you’re too cute
Probably also presses an overwhelming amount of kisses to your cheek every 20-30 seconds
You can literally feel him smiling against your skin as he kisses you
“Y/N! We shall do this again after our next mission!”
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Tengen is definitely the most suggestive and flirtatious with this
As soon as you take a seat on his thigh, he smirks and pulls you into him without hesitation
His arms are locked around your waist as he leans into you with a depraved expression
Constant teasing while you’re on him, no doubt about it
Like, he kisses you everywhere accessible, and grips your waist tighter
When you’re on his thigh, he moves his thigh up and down a little, and helps move your waist back and forth against him
Basically allows you to grind on him if you’re okay with it
Teases you by leaning back and placing his arms to rest against a nearby surface as you keep your movements against him up
“Come on Y/N, don’t keep me waiting.”
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Giyuu is quite calm and unfazed when you sit on his lap, similar to Gyomei
He just sits back, and occasionally rests his hands onto your waist or shoulders
Poor guy hasn’t had much affection, and is hella disliked so he just stays quiet the whole time
But, he does hold you tightly. It may not be something huge, but you can feel his affection and love in his embrace
Rests his head onto your shoulder
His breathing is calm and slow against your skin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, with his chin situated between your shoulder and collarbone.
If you try to get up, he’ll let you, but not before asking you to hold him a bit longer
Maybe, just maybe, he’ll smile against you if he feels comfortable with your body pressed against his on his lap
“Y/N…I love you. Don’t leave me, please.”
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Obanai remains silent, but it’s no secret that he’s flustered.
He looks away bashfully and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to avoid eye contact with you since it’s too embarrassing for him
He sighs heavily, trying to maintain his composure with you literally seated on his lap
His face is tinted a bright red, not even his bandaged mouth can hide the heavy blush dusting his cheeks
When you look over, you can literally see Kaburamaru giving Obanai a “you’re a fucking pussy” type stare
I guess that causes him to finally look at you and make eye contact
When he does gain some sort of confidence, he rests his hands onto your shoulders, and eventually wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you closer
He pulls you a little too close- putting you chest to chest with him, and his arms locked around you tightly and squeezing you
If you point out the fact that he’s hugging you too tight, he’ll get embarrassed and quietly apologize, before loosening his grip around you
Just let the man hug you and tough it out okay
“I- Y/N…I’m at a loss for words..?”
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A/N: hehheehhe did y’all miss me I’m back <3
I’ll come clean and admit- although I came back recently, I have been writing shit for myself the past week or so?
OKAY DONT BLAME ME I NEED TO THERE ARE NO GOOD FANFICS THAT ARE WELL WRITTEN OR HAVE ANY EMOTION I NEEDA TAKE MATTERS IJTO MY OWN HANDS LMFAOAOS 😭
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fushitoru · 5 months ago
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chapter 3: the manor a bridgerton!au
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pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ you and gojo have just uncovered your mothers' matchmaking scheme: a plan that sends you both to his extravagant countryside manor in kent, arriving a week earlier than the rest of the ton. the question remains—can you endure gojo's insufferable nature during this secluded stay? (8.3k)
prev. the aftermath | next. the game
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n krnfeknfkejrn i was so tired writing this chapter but used it to procrastinate on the reports and papers i have to write for internship/reports (wtf is quantum physics anyways). ty as always to @/sinn-clair for being the best beta reader <33333
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Dear readers, 
Apparently, last week, there was an altercation in Lady Itadori’s drawing room involving Lord Gojo, Miss Itadori, and a dog. The dog was the victor. 
Furthermore, If one is to trust the betting books, then Lord Gojo shall be witness to wedding bells before the year is through.
As much as it pains This Author to agree with the betting books (they are written by men, and thus inherently flawed), This Author must concur in the prediction.
Duchess Gojo will soon have her daughter-in-law. But who she will be⸺ah, Gentle Reader, that is still anyone’s guess. 
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
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Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Woman⸺a work I have long heard whispers about but never fully encountered until now. Her words, as bold as they are revolutionary, have struck a chord deep within me. She speaks of the education and independence of women, of our capacity for reason and our right to be regarded as more than mere adornments to the lives of men. Her arguments are so meticulously crafted, so unwavering in their conviction, that they have compelled me to reflect on my own circumstances.
I confess, there is something intoxicating about the notion that women might be more than what society has so neatly confined us to be. Is it truly so outlandish to consider that we, too, possess minds capable of great thought and spirits yearning for freedom?
I cannot help but wonder if there will ever come a time when these two worlds might reconcile⸺the status quo and that of what the book articulates. When women might be both respected and fre
Before you could finish writing in your diary, you suddenly heard frantic footsteps down the hallway, leading closer and closer to your door. Nobara bursts into the room, and you look up at her in confusion and, partially, dread. Nobara wouldn’t be bursting into your room unless there was someone who absolutely couldn’t see what you were doing in your past time.
Before she could catch her breath, she wheezed out, “Your mother.”
You quickly hopped into action with practiced and routine movements. Lunging for the floorboard that had hollow space beneath it, you moved it so you could place the book and your diary underneath and quickly hide evidence of you reading scandalous and radical works.
Just in time, it seemed, as your mother walked into your room to see you on your bed.
She squinted her eyes in suspicion. “What were you doing?”
You averted her gaze. “Nothing, just daydreaming, Mama.”
Usually, she would prod further into the matter, but it seemed as if she was too excited for that. Clapping her hands, she exclaimed, “I have just got an exclusive invitation for you! One that could secure you a very good match.”
You gave her a quizzical look as she walked closer, sitting at the foot of your bed with an expression of barely contained glee. “We shall be visiting the Gojo estate in Kent!”
At the mention of his name, your left eye twitched, though your mother remained oblivious. “Indeed, Mama? As is every other lady in London, I presume.”
“No, no,” she replied, waving your quip away with a dismissive hand. “We are to arrive at the Gojo estate before the house party.”
Your heart sank, dread pooling in your stomach. Oh, no, no, no, no. A sudden pressure gripped your chest, and you found yourself clutching at the bodice of your dress as if to steady your racing heart. “Before the house party, Mama?” Your voice, despite your best efforts, came out higher-pitched than usual, though you tried to maintain a semblance of composure. “Whatever for?”
“To secure an advantage, of course!” she replied with a bright smile, as though the matter were the simplest thing in the world. “The Gojo family has extended a personal invitation for us to stay with them for a few days prior to the event. It is plain to see⸺he is quite taken with you. Even that dreadful Lady Whistledown has noted as much.” She smiled indulgently, reaching out to gently smooth a stray lock of your hair. “It is your natural grace and charm, my dear, that has made you the season’s diamond.”
As your mother continued to speak, the twisting in your stomach began to intensify, morphing from nausea into something sharper, something more akin to anger. You kept nodding, trying to maintain a slightly pained smile, but the thought of spending time at the Gojo manor, in such close quarters with him, became increasingly unbearable. The memories of your recent encounters⸺his biting remarks, his mocking gaze⸺were still fresh in your mind, and the idea that you were being pushed toward an engagement with him made your skin crawl. But you knew better than to express your true feelings to your mother.
“That is… unexpected,” you managed to say, choosing your words carefully. “Are you certain this is a good idea, Mama? Perhaps we might appear too eager and ward off other potential suitors, lest they mistake me as claimed by Gojo?”
“Nonsense!” she replied with a dismissive laugh. “If all goes well, you’ll be announcing your engagement at the house party itself!”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hardly breathe as the full weight of what she was saying sank in. An engagement. To Gojo.
You almost felt faint, but as the initial shock wore off, it was replaced by a simmering anger. How dare he? How dare Gojo make a game of this, toying with you as if your future was nothing more than a sport to him? And how could your mother not see that she was playing right into his hands?
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the anger was bubbling up, threatening to spill over. “But, Mama, what if he does not wish to marry? What if he simply enjoys… toying with people?”
Your mother’s expression softened as she reached out to pat your hand, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. “My dear, you are overthinking this. Men like Lord Gojo may seem playful and insouciant, but they are ultimately driven by duty. A man in his position knows the importance of finding a suitable wife, and you⸺my darling⸺are just the woman for the role. You are intelligent, accomplished, and beautiful. He would be a fool not to see that.”
Each word only fueled the fire of your anger. Duty? Suitable wife? You bit your lip, feeling the weight of her expectations press down on you like a suffocating blanket. But beneath that weight was a growing resolve, a refusal to be treated like a pawn in some grand game of power and prestige. Gojo might enjoy playing with others' lives, but you would not be his plaything.
You gave her a pained smile. “If you say so, Mama…” you replied, the anger now evident in the tightness of your voice.
“Of course, I do!” she declared, rising from the bed with a self-satisfied smile. “Now, we must begin preparations immediately. There is much to be done before we depart.”
As your mother closed the door, you stormed over to the floorboard, whipped open your diary and prepped your quill to furiously write: 
Lord Gojo is a most intolerable wretch. Though his outward appearance might deceive many, there is an endless well of impurities within his character.
Indeed, God truly blesses the wrong soldiers with features such as his. However, I take pride in being one of His strongest for I possess the fortitude to resist the temptation of ending Gojo’s miserable existence myself.
Were Sukuna here, I daresay he would assist me in disposing of the body with great enthusiasm.
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While the Gojo dinner table was stocked with the finest of meals⸺that deserving of a wealthy dukedom, of course⸺Satoru found himself eyeing one dish of all⸺the scones.
Observing his mother and father, who were engrossed in deep conversation, he realized he could make the move. As discreetly as he could, he stocked his plate with many of the treats. The cook, bless his soul, knew how to make scones exactly right: soft, yet hard around the edges that have Satoru drooling when he takes a bite in to get a burst of flavor. He discreetly tucked a few sweets into his pocket for tonight’s work session on some Gojo business, thinking himself subtle.
Satoru could continue writing endless love poems in his head towards his chef’s scones, But Lady Gojo, ever watchful, noticed his little scheme. She arched an eyebrow, her tone teasing as she remarked, "Satoru, darling, it astonishes me that you remain so fit with such a fondness for sweets."
Without missing a beat, Gojo flashed his usual charming smile and responded, “Perhaps it is because I am kept on my toes constantly by you, Mother.” His parents shared a laugh at this, clearly amused by his playful banter.
The Gojo dining fell into a comfortable lull once again, sounds of forks and knives scratching against porcelain plates. The silence was better, Satoru believed. Because he knew he was not going to be pleased at what his father had to say to him next, judged based on the thoughtful look he adopted while staring at Gojo. 
“And how fares the season, Satoru? Have you made any progress?”
Satoru wanted to groan so bad, but instead, he straightened in his seat, the smile on his face now simply a facade. “I am confident all will proceed as expected, Father,” he replied, though his tone lacked its usual certainty.
Duke Gojo narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing something amiss. “Are you sure about that?” he probed. “You know very well, Satoru, that your inheritance of the title is contingent upon securing a wife and producing an heir. This is not a matter to be taken lightly.”
The weight of his father’s words hung in the air, pressing down on Gojo with the full force of expectation.  Would it be eccentric if I decided to scream to the heavens right now?
Before Gojo could even formulate a response, his mother, ever the one to steer the conversation, interjected with a delighted exclamation. “Oh, it’s all handled, my dear! Did you not hear? The diamond of the season is arriving a week early to our manor in the countryside!”
All thoughts of screaming himself mute vanished as his mother’s words piqued his interest. Now, this was interesting. You? Spending time with him, under his roof, with no escape? The idea alone was enough to spark a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Satoru almost started cackling maniacally at the thought of pestering you until you broke that oh-so-perfect and uptight demeanor of yours, until you were reduced to exactly what you were: an unruly and highly emotional know-it-all.
One could say Satoru was very bitter about the losses he had bore for that horse race.
As a self-assured smirk started to creep up Satoru’s face, Duke Gojo blinked, surprised by the news. “A week early? That’s quite unusual,” he remarked, turning his gaze back to his son.
Satoru offered a sweet smile. “Yes, unusual indeed.” He knew his parents were well aware of the marital implications of such an arrangement, and he could feel their eyes on him, gauging his reaction.
But Duchess Gojo, satisfied with her announcement, continued with a gleeful smile. “I daresay, it’s all coming together perfectly. Even matchmakers could not have planned it better.”
Indeed, Mother! The prospect grew more delightful with each passing second, and the corners of his mouth curled into a sly grin. You were in for quite the week, and he would relish every moment of ruining your composure.
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Yuji leaned in closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Sister, did you perhaps neglect the chamber pot today?” he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze serious. “Your expression is quite telling.”
 The carriage, though spacious, felt suffocating with the tension hanging in the air. Your mother sat by the window, her eyes sparkling with what could only be described as gleeful scheming regarding your imminent week at the Gojo manor. You, on the other hand, simmered with barely contained fury, with a pinch of nausea, your thoughts consumed with how you would confront Gojo at the ball you were all headed to. Yuji’s scrutiny only added to your irritation, his amused yet concerned face a stark contrast to your stormy mood. Across from you, Choso couldn’t suppress a snicker at Yuji’s comment, clearly enjoying the exchange.
You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer. “Yuji, if you do not cease your incessant prying, I shall see to it that you regret ever opening your mouth!”
Yuji flinched, visibly startled by your outburst. His confidence wavered as he stammered, “I⸺I meant no harm, sister.” He quickly extended his elbow to you, his movements almost robotic in their sudden politeness. “Please, allow me to escort you inside.”
You ignored the offer, your focus already elsewhere. The moment the carriage came to a stop, you heaved yourself off, stepping into the entrance. Grand revelry was before you; many suitors and young ladies were present, necks glittering with diamonds and hands adorned with gloves. Roving your gaze around, you saw him.
The world around you seemed to blur as your gaze locked onto Gojo, everything else fading into the background. A sleazy and handsome grin on his face, definitely talking about some useless nonsense. 
Like a bull seeing red, you marched forward with determined fury, your sights set solely on him. He stood there, the picture of nonchalance, completely unaware of the storm heading his way. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your anger propelling you forward with each step. Yuji and Choso exchanged confused glances as they lingered by the entrance, unsure of what had just transpired.
As you closed the distance, Gojo finally noticed you, his usual smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. But there was no time for his usual banter; you were ready to confront him head-on, no matter the consequences.
“What have you done?” you roared, striding towards Gojo. His head turned slowly, an amused and condescending smile creeping across his face. “I know this is⸺”
“Miss Itadori,” a voice hissed, dripping with offense. You turned to see Miss Yuki glaring at you. “Lord Gojo and I were in the midst of a very private conversation.”
You blinked, realizing that in your anger, you had entirely overlooked Miss Yuki’s presence. Though inwardly rolling your eyes, you knew it was best to maintain decorum. You curtsied in apology. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Yuki. I shall leave you both to continue your conversation.”
As you stepped back, giving them respectable space, Miss Yuki side-eyed you with a sharp “hmph!” before turning back to Gojo with a flirtatious smile.
“So, my lord,” Yuki began, her tone coy, “what type of woman would be to your liking?”
Gojo scratched his chin, feigning deep thought as he prepared his response. “Well, Miss Yuki, I would imagine she must be intelligent, accomplished, and⸺” He paused dramatically, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with a slow, deliberate drawl, “⸺and beautiful.”
You suppressed a sigh. Does he never tire of that tiresome gesture? It’s grown exceedingly dull.
Yuki’s pleased grin widened. “And what level of intellect do you find satisfactory, my lord?”
“Well,” Gojo mused, “I would prefer a lady well-versed in calculations. I often find myself making errors in my ledgers late at night, and a wife who could assist would be most valuable. Moreover, I would enjoy engaging in debates on scientific matters.”
Is he seeking a wife or an accountant?
The unusual nature of his request clearly left Yuki taken aback. She blinked, her smile tightening. “Indeed, Lord Gojo, these are rather...uncommon expectations for a wife.” Yuki then hesitated, glancing around as though searching for an escape. “Well, my lord, as intriguing as this conversation has been, I fear I must take my leave. My mother has been awaiting my return, and I would not wish to keep her waiting.”
She curtsied with a strained smile, clearly eager to extricate herself from the awkward situation Gojo’s peculiar standards had created. Without waiting for a reply, she swiftly turned and made her exit, leaving you alone to confront Gojo, who now had an amused look on his face, as if he had purposefully answered that way to ward Miss Yuki off.
You pointed your finger at him, wagging it accusingly as you hissed, “Gojo, I know this was one of your ploys.”
He let out an exaggerated groan, and he dropped all flirtatious pretenses he had adopted when conversing with the other lady. “Ah, yes. Please, by all means, heap more blame upon me for things entirely beyond my control. I derive immense pleasure from being the target of your needless and misdirected fury.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
With a strained smile, he sighed. “It seems our mothers have taken it upon themselves to orchestrate this entire charade.”
Your hands flew up in exasperation. “I cannot believe this! I would sooner perish than marry you, and heaven help me if I were ever to bear your children!”
“Spare me the theatrics,” Gojo replied, shaking his head as if amused by your outburst. He inclined his head slightly, gesturing toward something in the distance. “We are being observed.”
You followed his gaze and saw, across the dance floor, both of your mothers trying—albeit poorly—to appear inconspicuous as they exchanged furtive glances and whispered behind their fans.
You huffed in frustration, turning back to Gojo. “This is absurd.”
He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. “But would it be so terrible to bear my children?” he murmured, his tone teasing yet somehow serious.
Your pulse quickened at his words, but you refused to let it show. You straightened your posture, meeting his gaze with as much poise as you could muster. “I can’t think of far worse fates, my lord,” you replied, a touch of sarcasm lacing your words.
Gojo’s smile widened, clearly undeterred. His hand brushed lightly against your arm, the touch fleeting but enough to send a shiver down your spine.. You felt a slight tremor of awareness course through you, and despite your best efforts, a hint of warmth crept into your cheeks.
He leaned in even closer, his voice a low murmur. “You seem flustered, Miss Itadori,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “I must admit, the idea of a future with you is… intriguing.”
Flustered and at a loss of witty remarks, you stammered, struggling to find your voice. “I⸺I hardly think that⸺”
Gojo’s smile widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His eyes had this sultry expression to them, one that you didn’t need to ponder more than one second to know had no good intentions. 
With that, he released your hand, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding and your cheeks aflame.
Gojo ⸺ 1, You ⸺ 1. 
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Choso crossed his arms, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Mother, why are we departing a week earlier than the rest of the ton?”
The carriage rocked gently, the luggage rattling with the motion. You slumped in your seat, weary from the long hours of travel, your thoughts drifting to the comfort of a soft, fluffy bed. Your mother, noticing the beads of sweat forming on your brow, handed you a handkerchief before turning to respond to Choso. “Well, my dear, your sister has caught the eye of Lord Gojo, and his mother has personally invited us to arrive early so that we may become better acquainted.”
Your eldest brother frowned, while Yuji stared vacantly out the carriage window, enraptured by the sheep present on the farm you were passing. “But why should we do so?” Choso pressed, his tone firm. “It is not as though Sister is lacking in suitors. Why should we entertain Lord Gojo’s interest above all others?”
Even in your heat-induced lightheadedness, your attention was drawn to Choso’s defense of you. A flicker of hope ignited in your chest; as the viscount, Choso held considerable authority over your mother, and he could potentially influence the matrimonial decisions made on your behalf.
“Lord Gojo is the most eligible bachelor of the season,” your mother insisted. “We would be foolish not to seize such an opportunity.”
Choso retorted quickly, “And Sister is the most eligible lady of the season. She is the diamond. If Lord Gojo’s eligibility rests on his title, would we not do better to pursue a match with Duke Nanami?”
You silently cheered Choso on, hoping he might sway your mother’s mind away from the ridiculous notion of a match between you and Gojo.
But your mother was not easily deterred. “I am quite set on Lord Gojo, Choso,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Your sister seems to have formed a rapport with him, and this is about more than just titles. We must also consider her inclinations.”
Both your mother and Choso turned their expectant gazes upon you, awaiting your response. Flustered and unwilling to directly oppose your mother, you swallowed nervously and nodded. “Whatever you think best, Mother.”
The remainder of the ride was marked by the satisfied smile on Lady Itadori’s face and the glowers⸺yet paired with concerned glances⸺from Choso.
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The slowing of the carriage and its turn onto a smooth pathway roused you from the gentle lull of travel. You blinked your eyes open and glanced outside. A magnificent flower bed greeted you, a sea of blues ranging from the palest sky hues to deep indigo. But what truly stole your breath was the manor itself⸺more a castle than a mere country home. Its grandiose structure rivaled Buckingham Palace in regality, with elegant blue spires and stately beige stone walls that seemed to stretch towards the heavens.
The carriage came to a complete halt at the base of a grand staircase, where Duchess Gojo stood waiting, surrounded by footmen and maids all dressed in coordinated baby blue livery. As the carriage door was opened, you, your mother, Choso, and Yuji stepped out into the warm afternoon air.
“Lady Itadori!” Duchess Gojo descended the stairs gracefully, her arms extended in greeting. Your mother met her with an equally warm embrace.
“Your Grace,” your mother replied fondly, her face lighting up with familiarity. The duchess then turned her gaze towards you, her smile gracious and welcoming.
“And this must be our diamond,” Duchess Gojo said warmly, her eyes twinkling.
You offered her a polite smile and curtsied. “Miss Itadori, Your Grace. I am deeply honored by your hospitality.”
She waved off your formality with a flick of her hand. “The pleasure is entirely ours, my dear. We are delighted to have you with us, and I do hope that you and my son will find ample time to get better acquainted before the house party.”
You returned her smile, though unease stirred within you. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Choso and Yuji introduced themselves with the same practiced politeness, and after the formalities were concluded, the duchess clapped her hands together. “Come now, let us take tea. You must be quite fatigued from your journey. I shall have the staff see to your rooms so you may rest after.” She directed the servants to unload the luggage from the carriages and then motioned for you all to follow her into the manor. “To the drawing room!”
As you crossed the threshold into the manor, you were struck by the sheer opulence surrounding you. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate gold and blue detailing, and the walls were lined with endless portraits of the Gojo family. Your gaze was momentarily drawn to a portrait of Lord Gojo himself. The artist had rendered his eyes in a cold, oceanic blue—quite unlike the electric blue intensity they held in person. The painting failed to capture the vitality, and perhaps the insufferable smugness, that characterized his gaze.
You quickly looked away before anyone could notice your lingering stare, hurrying to catch up with your family as you reached a grand set of double doors. Footmen stood at attention as Duchess Gojo led you into a drawing room, elegantly appointed with plush furnishings and laden with trays of sweets.
“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” the duchess urged, gesturing towards the seating. She and your mother settled at a small table near the door, while you and your siblings gravitated toward the couches in the center of the room, where a tempting array of desserts awaited. As you sat down, maids swiftly arranged teacups and began pouring the tea. Yuji and Choso took seats across from you, their expressions reflecting varying degrees of interest—or lack thereof—in the proceedings.
“So, Miss Itadori,” You looked across the room to look at the duchess, who was leaning further to grab at her teacup and take a sip. “How do you find this season?”
“I find the suitors of this season very pleasing and kind, Your Grace,” you sat up fully, placing the scone you were eating down to fully face the duchess. “It has been a very extravagant season; I hope to continue my search to find a suitable match for myself.” Duchess Gojo nodded. “An admirable pursuit, of course. Is a love match what you are searching for?”
Her question hung in the air, and in that instant, you felt the weight of every gaze in the room fall upon you. The most searing of them all, though, was your mother's. You could feel it like a prickling heat against your skin, a silent reminder of the expectations that had been laid out before you long ago.
A love match. The words echoed in your mind, each syllable twisting into a knot of uncertainty. The very idea of love seemed foreign to you—elusive, abstract, something that belonged in novels rather than in the practical world of arranged marriages and alliances. Love was not what you had been taught to seek. No, your upbringing had been grounded in duty, decorum, and the quiet understanding that marriage was a contract, a union of convenience rather than passion.
But how could you say that aloud? How could you tell the duchess—tell anyone—that your dreams did not include the fiery passion of a love match, but rather the comfort of a peaceful arrangement? Your throat tightened, and the words that had once seemed so simple lodged themselves in the back of your mouth, refusing to emerge.
Your mother’s eyes bore into you, filled with unspoken expectations. You knew what she wanted to hear: that you were pursuing love, that you were open to it, that you were the ideal picture of a hopeful young lady seeking her romantic equal. But that wasn’t your truth. Your truth was more complicated, filled with desires for stability, understanding, and a life unburdened by the chaos that love so often seemed to bring.
Your heart pounded in your chest, the beat almost deafening in the sudden silence of the room. What were you supposed to say? How could you balance the delicate line between honesty and propriety?
Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat making it nearly impossible to find your voice. The tension swirled within you, an unrelenting force that made you wish you could simply disappear. What if they could see through you? What if, with one wrong word, they uncovered the truth of what you really wanted—a marriage that was practical, peaceful, and devoid of the complications that came with love?
But that wasn’t something you could admit. Not here. Not now.
You forced a polite smile, hoping it hid the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.
Before the weight of the room could settle further, the heavy double doors swung open with a soft yet deliberate creak. Every head turned in unison, and the air seemed to shift as your savior, Satoru Gojo made his entrance.
His attire was impeccable—a finely tailored waistcoat of deep blue, embroidered with silver thread that caught the light just so, paired with polished boots that gleamed as if they had never touched the ground. Yet, despite the formal attire, there was an air of disarming casualness about him, a kind of effortless elegance that made the room's grandeur seem almost insignificant by comparison.
His damp hair, still tousled from what must have been a recent bath, added an edge to his otherwise polished appearance. Droplets of water shimmered at the tips of his white locks, catching the light as he ran a hand through them. The scent of his cologne, rich and intoxicating, seemed to announce his arrival to you even before he spoke.
He strolled in with an air of ease. “It seems that our guests are finally here!” He moved with an easy grace, crossing the room in a few long strides, bowing slightly to the duchess and your mother before turning his attention to you. His gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary, a playful glint in his eyes as if he could sense the internal battle you had been fighting mere seconds ago.
“Miss Itadori,” he greeted you with a smile that could have melted the iciest of hearts, “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.”
Your mother’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. “Ah, Satoru! Come, sit with us.” She motioned to the spot next to you with enthusiasm. “Why don’t you and Miss Itadori sit together?”
Choso’s sharp gaze followed him with a hint of suspicion, but he made no objection as Gojo accepted the invitation, seating himself beside you with an infuriatingly confident smile. Yuji and Choso remained on the opposite couch, observing the scene with varying degrees of curiosity and caution.
“Well then,” Gojo began, grabbing an obscene amount of scones to heap on his plate, “I was just at the 
archery range earlier today. Quite the exhilarating sport. I find it sharpens the mind as much as the aim.”
Yuji, ever the admirer of feats of physical skill, leaned forward with interest. “Archery, my lord? That sounds remarkable! I must admit, I’ve always found it to be one of the noblest of pursuits.”
Gojo leaned back into the couch, resting one arm casually behind you on the backrest, his posture the very picture of relaxed confidence. He smiled at Yuji’s enthusiasm and continued, “Archery has long been a favored pastime of mine. It requires precision, patience, and an understanding of balance—qualities I find both necessary and rewarding. I've dedicated many years to perfecting my skill with the bow.”
He paused, allowing a slight, reflective smile to touch his lips. “In fact, just last month, I competed in the annual tournament at Her Majesty’s estate and managed to hit the bullseye in every round. Some of the other competitors remarked that it was almost unnatural, but I assure you, it is merely the result of countless hours spent at the range.”
Yuji’s eyes widened with admiration. “Every round? That’s incredible, Lord Gojo! Your dedication must be unparalleled.”
Gojo shrugged with mock humility, though his eyes glinted with pride. “It’s all in the discipline, really. Once you understand the rhythm of the draw and the release, it becomes second nature. Of course, the challenge is in maintaining that focus while under pressure. But I’ve found that to be the most exhilarating part—especially when the crowd is watching.”
Yuji nodded fervently, clearly enthralled. “I would love to see you in action, my lord! Perhaps you could give me a few pointers one day.”
Gojo chuckled, his gaze shifting to you for a moment before returning to Yuji. “Ah, I’m sure you’d take it quite well, Yuji. Perhaps we could all visit the range together during your stay here.”
 The nonchalant arrogance in his voice, paired with the image of him lording his skill over others, irritated you. You couldn’t resist a small quip, your tone light. “Oh, indeed, Lord Gojo. Your accomplishments are so profound that I fear I might believe you are telling tales. Of course, I wonder with all this focus on archery, do you leave any time for pursuits that require a bit more… finesse?”
Gojo’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as they met yours, his gaze sharp with understanding. Yet, rather than take offense, he allowed a playful smirk to curl on his lips, his voice laced with teasing intent. “Ah, Miss Itadori, archery indeed requires finesse, I assure you. But perhaps you’d care to test that claim yourself? I’d be more than happy to provide a demonstration.”
As he leaned in closer, you found yourself all too aware of his presence. The scent of his cologne, a warm and intoxicating blend of vanilla and tobacco, filled the air between you, making it difficult to maintain your composure. His face hovered just near enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke.
“In fact,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “I’d wager that with a little practice, you might find yourself hitting the mark with more than just words.”
His proximity made your heart skip a beat, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Despite your resolve to remain composed, the effect of his closeness and the quiet intensity in his voice left you momentarily at a loss for words.
Choso, sitting across from you, gave Gojo a sharp look. Meanwhile, Yuji was practically beaming at the prospect of an archery lesson from the lord himself.
You inhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “Perhaps,” you replied, your voice more controlled than you expected, though there was still a slight quiver in it. “But I’ve found that words can be just as powerful, if not more so.”
Gojo smirked, his gaze lingering on your face as if savoring the moment. The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable, and you could feel the weight of it, pressing against your own resolve. But you wouldn’t allow him to see just how much he affected you—at least, not yet. 
Despite the warmth in your cheeks and the flutter in your chest, you held his gaze, meeting his playful intensity with your own determined calm.
However, your mother’s voice broke through the spell. “Oh, Your Grace, might we have a tour of the manor sometime?”
Duchess Gojo, clearly delighted to show off her home, nodded eagerly. “Of course! There is a pavilion overlooking our garden where we can play pall-mall, and the library is quite extensive.” Your interest piqued at the mention of the library, and you made yourself a mental note to explore where it was.
Then she turned her gaze towards you, her expression growing more conspiratorial. “And as for Miss Itadori, Satoru has promised to give her a personal tour of the grounds tomorrow after she takes rest today.”
You stiffened at the suggestion, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gojo lean in slightly, his mischievous grin widening as he whispered, “I’ll be sure to make it… thorough.”
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You couldn’t sleep.
Restless thoughts kept you tossing and turning, denying you any hope of finding solace in slumber. The events of the day had left you drained, and after the conversation in the drawing room, you had collapsed into the plush, inviting bed. Sleep had claimed you almost instantly. But now, in the dark silence of the night, you awoke with a start, your mind refusing to quiet. No matter how you tried, you couldn’t escape the whirlwind of thoughts that stirred within you.
The prospect of the coming days loomed over you, a storm of anxiety brewing. Spending time with Gojo, of all people? Your mother’s insistent push for this potential marriage was unbearable. How could you possibly tell her that you despised the man? The mere thought of being bound to him in matrimony was a nightmare⸺marriage itself was daunting enough, but to an arrogant, loquacious, and insufferably self-assured man like him? It would be nothing short of Hell on earth.
With a frustrated sigh, you rose from bed and rubbed your face, trying to dispel the fog of sleeplessness. Perhaps a visit to the manor’s library⸺the one mentioned during tea⸺would offer some distraction. Grabbing a lantern, you slipped out of your room, treading softly down the stairs and into the main hallway. You moved with the caution of a thief; your mother would surely not approve of your nocturnal wanderings. Her voice echoed in your mind, sharp and reprimanding: “Good things never happen in the dead of night!”
As you opened the library’s grand doors, a soothing fragrance enveloped you⸺the scent of aged paper mingled with a hint of vanilla, a fragrance unique to this room. But what truly took your breath away was the sheer size of the library.
Bookshelves lined the walls, rising two stories high, creating a space that could easily have served as a grand ballroom. Cozy nooks beckoned you to sit, while further exploration revealed tables and armchairs tucked away behind towering shelves. It was a bibliophile’s paradise.
Your eyes roved over the multitude of volumes: ancient ledgers, personal family records, scholarly works on politics, astronomy, and the sciences. Though you did not often indulge in scientific pursuits, you found them fascinating whenever the opportunity arose. One book in particular caught your eye:
Observations on the Planet Venus.
Drawn to the back of the library, you found a large window offering a stunning view of the garden and pavilion, bathed in starlight. You couldn’t resist the allure of the table beside it, where you settled in and began to read.
“The planet Venus is an object that has long engaged my particular attention. A series of observations upon it, which I began in April, 1777, has been continued down to the present time…”
Time slipped away as you became engrossed in the text, the lantern’s light flickering softly as you pored over the meticulous observations and calculations. Your hands were soon stained with ink, evidence of the notes you had been feverishly jotting down on scraps of parchment you had found in a supply cabinet. A good hour or two had passed before you finally leaned back, stretching your tired muscles. You rested your head on your arms, intending to close your eyes for just a moment. Soon, you found that your sleepy brain forced you to reflect and muse upon your life, as a mind often does at three.
What a pity it was that you couldn’t bear the thought of marrying Gojo. If only he were different, you might have lived in this manor, with its perfect library, forever. You could imagine it: waking in the mornings in your fluffy bed, sharing the latest discoveries in astronomy and medicine with your handsome husband…
Truly, what a pity. Your sleep-deprived mind began to conjure an image of this imagined husband—tall, nearly Gojo’s height, with kind eyes and lips that would kiss you gently awake each morning (unlike Gojo’s snark). You envisioned banter over breakfast, late-night rendezvous in the library, and tender embraces in bed…
Before you could delve deeper into your fantasy, the sound of footsteps jolted you back to reality. The tread was deliberate, too similar to your mother’s for comfort, and panic flared within you. Your mind, already muddled with exhaustion, conjured the worst possible scenario—your mother finding you here, in the library where you had no business being at this hour.
Memories of her discovering forbidden books in your childhood flashed before your eyes, and your breath quickened in fear. Rising as quietly as you could, you pressed your hands over your mouth to stifle any sound, creeping toward a bookshelf to hide. But the footsteps drew closer, relentless in their pursuit. You felt like prey, cornered and desperate.
Getting out of your chair as quietly as you could, you squeezed your eyes shut and put both of your hands over your mouth so you didn’t start making audible gasps that would let the person know where you were immediately. Softly⸺but panickedly⸺walking towards a bookshelf, you hid as you traced the footsteps getting closer and closer to you. You tried to walk away from the sound, but it seemed like the person was listening intently for your movements. You couldn’t help but think you were like prey, cornered and desperate.
However, it was all for naught; your heart sank as you realized you had ended up in an alley of bookshelves that were up against the wall, essentially creating a dead end for you. The steps got closer and closer, and you drew yourself closer and closer to the wall. Your eyes was still shut, but you could hear the steps around the corner, coming closer and closer. 
The footsteps were merely a few feet away from you, and in a moment of sheer panic, you blurted out, “I am sorry, Mother⸺”
“Excuse me,” came a voice that was decidedly not your mother’s. Your eyes flew open to find none other than Gojo, his blue eyes alight with offense. “Do I resemble your mother in any way?”
You blinked, struggling to process the sight before you. He was holding a quill, ink, and a stack of notebooks that resembled the ledgers you had seen earlier, along with a plate of scones that looked absurdly sugary.
“I—” you stammered, taking a sharp breath to compose yourself and paused, looking at Gojo⸺who was shooting you a petulant frown⸺take a big bite of his scone. “Your tread was uncannily similar.”
He paused, chewing on a scone with a sulky expression, while you averted your gaze in embarrassment.
When he finished chewing, he cleared his throat. “You must possess rather poor hearing to mistake a man of my stature for a lady.”
You shrugged, still flustered. “Perhaps you have an unusually light step.”
An awkward silence settled between you as Gojo took another loud bite of his scone. You hastened to break it. “It is quite late; I must take my leave. Good night, my lord.”
You bowed your head slightly and moved to leave, but before you could slip past him, he blocked your path, suspicion narrowing his gaze. “What business do you have in the Gojo library at this hour?”
“Nothing of import,” you squeaked.
At the not-very-innocuous tone in your voice, his eyes narrowed further. “Your tone suggests otherwise.” He leaned in, his gaze sweeping over you with exaggerated scrutiny. Noticing the ink stains on your hands, he quipped, “Were you tampering with important records?”
Your heart raced, knowing that he wouldn’t be entirely wrong to suspect you⸺what else would a lady be doing in a library at this hour? It was a no-win situation: confess to reading a book and risk your mother’s wrath, or be accused of something far more serious.
It was best to come clean. “I was merely reading a book,” you confessed. “I can show you precisely where I sat and what I was doing.”
Gojo’s expression softened, but he quickly continued his theatrical suspicion and hmmphed. “Of course. I must be certain that no mischief has been afoot.”
You led him back to the table where you had been reading. He sat across from you, depositing his supplies onto the table with a flourish and leaned back, crossing his arms. Ever the investigator, he watched as you retrieved the book. It bore no resemblance to the Gojo ledgers, which had the telltale blue cover and Gojo insignia, which consisted of six eyes. 
Upon seeing this, he nodded in acknowledgment. “You are exonerated.”
At that, you sighed and clutched your chest. For a moment, you contemplated pleading with Gojo to keep your late library visit secret from your mother but you shot the idea down for two reasons. First, you would never lower yourself to plead with Gojo, and second, Gojo⸺ever the insufferable man⸺would definitely make sure to mention it to your mother and further exacerbate the issue. 
As he began arranging his ink bottles and quills, preparing to work on his ledgers, you took a moment to observe him. He was dressed in casual attire, loose-fitting trousers and a white shirt with several buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. Slut.
It took you a moment to realize that he was settling in at your table. You frowned. “I beg your pardon, but this is my spot.”
Gojo looked up from his work, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “My dear, this is my library. Thus, it is my spot.”
You opened your mouth to retort, then closed it in frustration. He was right, after all. The entire manor was his. Your silence seemed to amuse him, as he returned to his ledgers with a smug smile.
Now, you didn’t really know what to do⸺should you go back to your room, or should you stay and continue reading the book? In your indecision, you continued to flip through the pages of the book, particularly because you wanted to finish the conclusion section before going to bed. But you soon felt his gaze upon you, the sound of his quill slowing down.
You didn’t look up. “Might I suggest you cease staring at me? It is quite improper.” “What? Why would I do so? To watch you peruse a tedious romance novel?”
“This is a book on the state of the art of astronomy.” 
“Indeed? I confess, I am surprised.”
Your irritation flared and you whipped your head up to glare at Gojo. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“I was under the impression that young ladies’ interests lie solely in matters of the heart.”
“So, in addition to gossiping, you are also prone to narrow-minded assumptions?”
Gojo scoffed. “Narrow-minded? It is a simple observation. Both men and women often indulge in fanciful notions of love.”
You scoffed. “Ah, so you hold yourself above other men. What are you, God?”
Gojo ignored your remark. “Those who read such frivolities are seldom engaged in serious thought or the appreciation of true art.”
“Romance allows one to experience love and joy. Does the prospect of happiness through art truly horrify you?” You stood, glaring at him. “Unlike you, my lord, ladies such as myself cannot frequent dubious establishments such as brothels to seek out lovers. Our reputations and futures are at stake.” Gojo began to respond, but you cut him off. “To deny women the solace of love is cruel. It is our only refuge in a world that forces us into unwanted marriages!”
When you were done ranting to Gojo, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in. Truly, this man could bother you like no other; only your siblings have caused this much heat on your face due to anger. The only sounds in the library was your rushed breathing, from anger.
Gojo scoffed. “You truly think too much.”
You offered a sharp scoff. "And you, far too little. Even Sukuna Jr. possesses more emotional intelligence than you."
"Do not compare me to that wretched creature," Gojo retorted.
You gasped in disbelief. "How dare you speak of Kuna in such a manner!"
"Then perhaps you should keep him from fouling the air around me!" he snapped.
A sly smile crept across your lips. "He merely knows whom to guard me against."
At reference of That Night, Gojo sighs exhaustedly. “Do you find trouble with the judgments I made that night? None of that was meant for you.”
“Are you quite serious?” You were in disbelief. Does he truly feel no remorse? Frustrated, you ran a hand over your face. “Your words may not have been intended for me, but they were no less cutting. I cannot abide such arrogance, my lord.”
Gojo leaned back, crossing his arms with an air of indifference. “Arrogance or simply honesty? I merely spoke the truth as I see it.”
“Your so-called truth is nothing more than disdain wrapped in wit,” you snapped, feeling your temper rise again. “You speak as though your opinions are infallible, as if you alone have the right to pass judgment on others.”
“I only say what others are too afraid to voice,” he retorted, his tone cool. “If that makes me arrogant, then so be it. But I will not apologize for it.”
“Of course not,” you said bitterly. “An apology would require some measure of humility, and that is something you clearly lack.”
Gojo’s eyes narrowed, his voice growing more clipped. “I fail to see why my opinions should trouble you so much. Perhaps you are simply too sensitive.”
Your anger flared at his dismissive tone. “Or perhaps you are too blind to see the harm your words cause. You claim to be honest, but what you truly are is cruel.”
“Cruel?” Gojo’s voice was sharp now, his composure slipping. “For speaking the truth? For refusing to coddle those who cannot handle it?”
“For refusing to consider the feelings of others!” you countered, your voice rising in frustration. “Not everything is a game or a joke, my lord. Your words have consequences, whether you acknowledge them or not.”
A tense silence fell between you, each of you locked in a stubborn glare, neither willing to yield. Finally, you shook your head, the weight of your frustration pressing down on you. “I cannot do this,” you muttered, turning away. “You are utterly impossible.”
You began to walk away, but Gojo’s voice cut through the silence. “Running away so soon?” There was a hint of something in his tone⸺something almost like disappointment⸺but you dismissed it.
You paused, glancing back at him with a hardened expression. “There is no point in continuing this conversation. You refuse to see reason, and I refuse to waste any more of my time on you.”
Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and left the library, your heart pounding with irritation and anger. As the door closed behind you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of heaviness in your chest. 
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prev. the aftermath | next. the game
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n gojo the type to hit ur g spot every ti---WHAT WHO SAID THAT?
anyways yes we r getting (sort of) freaky in the next chapter (gojo busts in his pants seeing reader's ankles /j)
gojo when reader thought he was her mama
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also tysm for all the asks, and comments, and love you guys have shown me. super motivating that you guys are enjoying the story and propels me to write more <3
comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3
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