#prince!gojo ── ★
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chuulyssa · 27 days ago
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୨・──── TELL ME I’M A LITTLE ANGEL, SWEETHEART OF YOUR CITY ────・୧
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pairing ⸺ satoru gojo x reader
teaser ⸺ as a child, you were taken in by the powerful gojo clan and raised alongside their heir, gojo satoru — but never as his sibling. now, at an elite school, your fragile bond is tested when an actual noble woman enters the picture, bringing in a marriage proposal.
content ⸺ fluff, reader is an academic achiever and has a good handwriting, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, cliff hanger ending, human auctions, implied slavery, jealousy, implied torture, shoko talks about using medical tools for torture (lol), blood, implied abuse, implied grape (not at reader), magic!au, historic!au, the ages of reader and gojo throughout the story: 3, 10, 12, 15, 17
count ⸺ 22k
author’s note ⸺ thank you to everyone for waiting patiently! this is just the part one, i hope it does well to give me enough motivation to write a part two. i have so soo many ideas i’m hoping to incorporate.
🎧 ao3 wattpad
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You sat next to the man, bowing deeply with him at some figure you couldn’t care less about. It had to be someone important obviously, and you knew now was the time you were going to get kicked out of a place for the tenth time in your life, unwittingly dragging this poor man with you as well. He had seemed kind enough when he had bought you off at that auction.
He wasn’t anything like you had feared. You had met other girls bonding with each other inside the cage; girls older and prettier than you, getting sold off one by one to old and creepy men who looked like they couldn’t keep it in their pants. You had dreaded meeting the same fate as them. That was, until the man who kept increasing his offer for you looked younger and stronger.
He was probably like one of those army officers you had seen at your mother’s house, who would stand guard outside your small room each night she and her happy family went out to lavish parties, to make sure you didn’t escape. Well, even if you did, you thought that was what they would have wanted, but they kept saying that they didn’t want anyone noticing your existence. Not that they didn’t have a good reason.
In your mind, you had hoped the man would win, and when he had, the triumphant look on his face made you sigh in relief; at least now you were sure you wouldn’t be used as a hole for life. But were you, though? Because the thoughts kept creeping back; the looks on the other girls’ faces when they were taken away by their new masters. But the mysterious man had made you sit on his pretty horse, taking you somewhere, away from the horrifying auctions that represented the worst atrocities made by humans.
You peered from under your hands, still in your bowing position. The person had now risen. He had dark hair and vivid blue eyes. He seemed to peer at you in as much curiosity as you were at him. That was, until a crisp voice had cut through the silence, knocking you out of your bow when it addressed your saviour to “pack his things and leave”.
“I understand, madam,” he said smoothly, getting up to leave, not before giving another curt nod. Then he turned to you. “This is where my job ends, little one. You’ll be much happier here,” he whispered, nodding at you and standing up. You almost wanted to stop him before you remembered you were told several times that you didn’t possess any human emotions. So you watched him leave, wondering how he was so sure this wouldn’t be another one of your previous houses.
“As for the child,” you snapped your head back to the dark-haired man in front of you who seemed to be giving commands, “we must decide which family keeps her. From the looks of it, she needs to be tended to,” he eyed your wounds from previous struggles you wished to forget about.
You stared at the people he was questioning, and they all looked away. This seemed like a meeting room, and the people were lined up sitting parallel to each other. Some were glaring at you like you had come to raid their houses, fuck their wives and drink their blood. None of them seemed to realize you were only a child of ten. Nervous under all the gazes, you wished to find another person you could bow to, just to avoid all the staring you were receiving.
“We will,” said the same voice you had heard earlier, and you finally looked at its source.
She had long, white hair that seemed to reach till the floor. Her eyes were light, and she looked pretty. She had a cold look on her face that made her seem frightening, though, and that was probably why you saw that none of the others could even muster enough courage to look at her eyes when she said those words.
“Well, it’s decided then,” the man said in a final tone, as if he had only bargained about the price of a few watermelons from his local vendor. “Love, if you will.”
Love? Oh, maybe they were married.
The woman stood up and everyone bowed at her again. You were about to sink back into the position before she crouched down in front of you, caressing your hair with a touch that made you look back at her.
“Come with me, daughter.”
──── ୨ৎ ────
“I have a sister now?” “Shh, and don’t call her that. I’ve already told you, she’s not your sister—”
“Does she know how to ride horses?” “Do you ever do anything else?”
“She should know how to ride horses.” “You can teach her.”
“Oh, wow, really?”
You scrambled away from the door at the sounds of footsteps returning and sunk back into the expensive bed the woman had had prepared for you. The ‘woman’ who asked you to call her ‘mom’, somehow losing the twinkle in her eye when commanding maids around, which she seemed to regain every time you spoke something.
You knew it was a trap though. If she really ‘adopted’ you and wanted you to call her ‘mom’, wouldn’t that mean you were the sister to whatever child she already had? Yet here you were, all cleaned up and changed, almost believing the charade before realizing the child was being advised not to consider you as their sister.
You bit your lip, trying not to cry. At least you weren’t at your old house thinking of ways to poison your family, or in that cage counting down for when it was your turn, or lying dead in some creep’s backyard. Maybe you could enjoy this while it lasted.
“May I come in?” A polite, boyish voice rang out from behind your door. A hushed whisper of an older woman seemed to reprimand him for not knocking, and the two started to argue.
“Yes?” You didn’t quite know how to respond professionally to the request, so your answer came off more as a question. You sure hoped the man wouldn’t scold you for your manners as well.
A boy stepped forward, and you immediately knew he was the son of the two clan leaders. Not because of his clothes, but because of his face. He had the same white hair as his mother, and the blue eyes he got from his father. Maybe blue eyes were a thing of the clan?
“Hi,” he said awkwardly, and the door closed behind him. “Mother sent me here for ‘bonding time’.” You kept staring at him, not realizing you were staring. He looked up at you and flushed. Only then did you realize, chuckling awkwardly and scratching your wrists, trying to get used to the expensive scents the maids had covered you with.
“Can I… uh,” he trailed off, staring at you, and you blinked back at him, not knowing what he was going to say.
“...sit on the bed?” You offered, and he raised an eyebrow before climbing on it, sitting in the most formal position you had ever seen.
“Do you like horse riding?” “What?”
He flushed even more. “Mother said we should ask each other questions to get to know the other better.”
“Oh.” “Yeah.”
There was another silence.
“So it’s my turn to ask a question now?” You asked. “Yeah.”
“Do you like potatoes?”
“What?” He processed your question for a solid five seconds before bursting into laughter. You kept staring at him as if he was stupid. Did you say something stupid?
“I like you!” He said in between giggles, his old formal, uptight position long lost. It was your turn to flush now. No one had ever said they even wanted you alive, let alone say that. Well, no one except for three people in the past few hours, and now this guy. You had a feeling you might prefer this over anything else for now.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The soft hum of celebration still lingered in the air. Lanterns flickered outside glowing warmly across your room. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the wrapped gifts and trinkets the Gojo family had insisted on presenting you earlier. It had been strange, the idea of sharing a birthday with Satoru. You didn’t even know your real birthday, so his — no — your mother announced it would be shared.
Satoru had, of course, embraced the attention, dragging you along with him to cut the massive cake. You had never seen anything like this before, and it might have shown on your face, because he had held your wrist tightly as if annoyed you were taking so long, and cut the cake with you. That was what made it impossible to shun the feelings of belongingness.
Now, the house was quiet, and the festivities had faded. But just as you were about to pull the covers over yourself, the faint sound of your door creaking open made you pause.
“Hey,” Satoru’s voice whispered, followed by the soft padding of his feet. You turned your head to see him, still in the formal robes mother had fussed over earlier, though they were now slightly askew. His hair was a mess, his face flushed from excitement — or maybe all the sweets he’d devoured.
“Should you not knock?” you asked, folding your arms. You inwardly cringed at the noble accent you had unknowingly adopted from the Gojo family. “And what are you doing here?”
“Escaping,” he said, as if that explained everything. He plopped down without invitation beside you on the bed, leaning back on his hands and gazing at the ceiling. “Mother’s got the maids cleaning up. I was bored. Figured you’d be awake.”
You rolled your eyes, but he caught the faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re going to get us in trouble. Again.”
“What’s the point of having a birthday if you can’t even cause some trouble now?” He shot you a grin, then leaned closer to the window. “Let’s go outside.”
“What? No.” “Please, please, pretty please?”
“I am not letting my first birthday become my death day,” you scoffed at him. Taking one look at the pout on his face, which seemed to stretch all the way down to his neck, you sighed, and he knew he won. “Fine. But we’re only looking outside.”
“What!? But what’s the fun in that?” “Then go alone.”
He pouted again, but you merely looked away trying to shield yourself from his cuteness. Soon after though, Satoru relented. He slid the window open and climbed onto the ledge, grumbling for you to follow. You joined him, settling beside him as the smell of night air filled your room. The stars were brilliant tonight, like silver dust across an ink-black canvas.
“They’re so bright,” you murmured. “It’s almost… too much.”
Satoru snorted. “That’s the problem with you. You overthink everything. Just look at them — they’re pretty, that’s all there is to it.”
You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Fine. They’re beautiful. Happy now?”
“Very,” he said, grinning. Then he tilted his head, closing his eyes and mumbling something to himself. He opened his eyes, looking at you expectantly. “Now it’s your turn. Make a wish.”
“What?” You frowned.
“A wish! Like for your birthday. I know we already made some during the cake thing, but this one’s private. Just for us.”
You hesitated, unsure of what to wish for, before finally closing your eyes. Satoru watched you intently as if trying to guess your wish, but when you opened your eyes again, he pretended to be fascinated by the sky.
“Oh, done already? What did you wish for?” he asked after a moment.
“You said it was private,” you shot back. “What did you wish for?”
“Not telling,” he replied smugly, crossing his arms. “What if you laugh?”
“Why would I laugh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because you’re you.” “And you’re stupid.”
The two of you fell into another argument, but when it finally died down, it was followed by a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of distant crickets. Then, out of nowhere, Satoru blurted out, “Do you think the stars can hear us?”
“What?” You stared at him.
“The stars,” he said seriously, pointing upward. “Do you think they grant wishes, like gods or something?”
“That’s stupid,” you muttered, but you couldn’t hide the faint curl of amusement on your lips. “They’re just balls of gas.”
“Well, maybe those gas balls are listening,” he said, sticking his tongue out. “You don’t know everything. Maybe they are hearing us right now.”
You opened your mouth to retort but froze. A memory seemed to resurface…
“I still don’t know why you decided to keep the child!” a deep voice was screeching at another, soft one.
“I don’t know what came over me, I swear!”“It is the spawn of Satan himself! I respect you for what you have been through, but it is time to dispose of her.”
“Dispose? You don’t mean—”
Large hands came your way to muffle the screams from your mouth.
Your fingers clenched the windowsill.
“They didn’t hear me before,” you said quietly, almost to yourself.
“What?” Satoru noticed the change in your tone, and turned to look at you, his brow furrowing. “Who? The balls?”
You shook your head quickly. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
But Satoru wasn’t one to let things go. “Hey,” he said softly. “You can tell me. I mean, if you want.”
His sincerity made your chest tighten. Normally, after the word ‘balls’, he would have made a bad joke about male anatomy. But he seemed to have read the room enough to shut up. You looked at him, his bright blue eyes watching you with genuine concern. For a moment, you thought about telling him. But then, the weight of it all felt too heavy to share. He was too young, too shielded from the horrors of the world to be able to handle any of it anyway.
“It’s nothing,” you muttered. “Just something dumb I used to believe.”
Satoru opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he smiled gently and nudged your shoulder. “Okay. But if you ever want to talk about dumb things, I’m here. You know, I’m dumb, so…” he tried making the joke you always did.
You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you simply nodded. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, watching the stars. Finally, Satoru stretched and hopped down from the ledge.
“Goodnight,” he said, giving you a lopsided grin. “And happy birthday.”
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the warmth in his voice. “You too,” you said softly.
As he closed the door as softly as he could behind him, you stared out at the stars, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they had started listening after all.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The sound of hooves clattering against the cobblestone path filled the air as the royal carriage swayed gently on its way to the prestigious School of Royalty. The morning sun cast a golden glow on the lush green fields outside, but inside, the atmosphere was both tense and excited.
“You know,” Satoru began, leaning lazily against the plush velvet seat, “I heard there’s a whole batch of new exchange students joining today. Rumor is, one of them’s from the Silver Crescent Kingdom. Ever seen anyone from there? They’re supposed to have that, uh… ‘ethereal glow.’ You think that’s real, or just something people say?”
You barely glanced up from the notebook in your lap, furrowing your brows as you paused your incoherent babbling of equations. “If you spent half as much time studying for the exam as you do gossiping, maybe you wouldn’t need to cheat off me later.”
He smirked, unbothered. “Cheat? Me? I’m offended. I’m just naturally brilliant.”
“And naturally annoying,” you muttered, flipping to another page of hastily scribbled notes.
Satoru ignored the jab, his grin widening. At fifteen, he’d grown into someone who couldn’t step into a room without people swooning for his attention. You guessed it was just a Gojo thing he inherited from his mother. The girls adored him — some from afar, others more boldly (you still cringe remembering that one time a girl with a sorry excuse of a top was taken away by your guards for trying to get a kiss from him last year) — and the boys either envied or wanted to be him. The name “Satoru Gojo” seemed to be whispered wherever he went, and he couldn’t be happier.
You, on the other hand, had decided that the attention you receive at your house was enough to satisfy you for a lifetime, and you would rather spend your time learning something new — at least, that’s what you told your mother; that you would rather cry over your grades than guys, to which Satoru had cleverly remarked, “Why not both?” earning a glare from his mother. While you did have friends, and you did seem to be friendly with everyone around you, you would watch in dismay when most of these friends would recite their love stories, and you had nothing to share. The boys barely noticed you, too busy being gay over Satoru. But you had your books, your achievements, and the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t need anyone’s approval.
“And get this,” Satoru continued, his excitement growing. “I heard one of them’s some kind of prodigy. Like, they mastered advanced magic when they were ten. Can you imagine? Finally, someone who might be able to keep up with me. They’re a senior too, so I want to see the look on their face when they realize I’m better than them.”
“Mhm,” you replied distractedly, not bothering to look up. You were too busy with the definition of archaic spellcasting principles and the formulas for mana stabilization to muster a reply of more than a single syllable. The exam was in less than an hour, and the thought of failing even one question sent a jolt of anxiety through you.
Satoru leaned forward, peering at your notes upside down. “What’s that? Something about magic circles? You’re still on those? I mastered those ages ago.”
You snapped your notebook shut and shot him a glare. “You didn’t ‘master’ anything. You just wing it and hope for the best.”
“Hey, it works, doesn’t it?” He shrugged. “Besides, you’ll cover for me if I mess up. That’s what partners are for.”
“We’re not partners.”
“Sure we are,” he said breezily. “Partners in crime. Mischief-makers extraordinaire. The unbeatable duo.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of your head.
The carriage hit a bump, causing you to clutch your notes tighter. Satoru, unfazed, lounged back in his seat and stared out of the window. “You know, you should relax a little. Exams aren’t life or death.”
“For you, maybe. Some of us don’t have a safety net made of charm and raw talent.”
He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Wow, you really think I’m charming and talented? Thanks, baby.”
You didn’t dignify that dumb statement with a response. Instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, determined to make use of every second you had left.
The carriage began to slow, signaling their arrival at the school gates. Satoru straightened, his excitement palpable. “Here we go. Time to make an impression. Think the exchange students are going to swoon over me?”
“Only if they have no taste,” you muttered, gathering your things.
He grinned, standing and offering you a hand as the carriage came to a stop. “Come on, don’t be such a poopy.”
You cringed again before taking his hand, letting him help you down. The moment your feet touched the ground, the buzz of the school grounds surrounded you. Students swarmed the entrance, chattering excitedly about everything from the new arrivals to last-minute cramming for the exam.
Satoru strode ahead confidently, while you lingered a step behind, clutching your notes tightly. He glanced at you, running back to catch up with you. “Where’s Kuro? He’s supposed to be part of the dramatic entrance I had planned.”
“I sent him away. He was annoying me with the confetti.” “You— WHAT?”
You ignored him, continuing to walk up the stairs leading to your exam hall without looking up at anyone. Satoru jogged beside you.
“We haven’t met with any of the exchange students yet!” “Satoru, if you want to, then leave.”
He pouted, planting your face in front of yours above your notes. “You know I won’t leave you.”
“Then stay quiet and let me study.” “Alright, alright,” he said, sighing. He stared at you for a few moments, pacing around the hall with you while you muttered curses under your breath. He smiled. You always hated this one subject but felt the need to excel in it anyway. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’ll do great, you know.”
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, but you masked it with a scoff. “You’d better hope so. If I fail, you’ll fail too.”
He laughed again, a sound as effortless as everything else about him. “That’s true. Can’t impress anyone with an F on the paper, can I?” The loud bell rang, and Satoru moved to cover your ears with the palms of his hands. “I’ve got you covered, princess. In return, you must guarantee that I pass.”
You smiled a genuine smile at him, something you had gotten quite used to doing in the past four years you had spent with your new family. “I can’t guarantee that. Let’s go, I’m done now.”
His eyes widened comically, “What do you mean you can’t guarantee that?” You laughed at him, and he snatched your notebook from your hands. “Give me that! Oh god. I’m doomed, aren’t I?”
“Yup, let’s go now.”
The exam hall echoed with the sound of faint murmurs and the occasional nervous coughs. While theory had been nerve-wracking, at least you had been able to cram for it. But the practicals? They were a whole different beast. No amount of late-night revisions could prepare you for actual spellwork.
You clutched your wand tightly, its polished surface cold and smooth against your clammy palms. The examiner called your name, and your stomach flipped. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. What were the steps again? Swing your wand, say the words, and hope for the best.
You stood before the enchanted apparatus. It was a simple magical round glass that would respond to the accuracy of your spell, changing its colour accordingly. The orb pulsed softly, steams of gas floating stilly in its interior, waiting. You were supposed to transfigure a cactus into a goblet full of water. The room was silent, dozens of eyes boring into your back. 
Why did they have to make everyone do the practicals individually, and on stage?
You closed your eyes briefly, mustering every ounce of focus. With a flick of your wand and the carefully practiced words spilling from your lips, you executed the spell. Wand still in the air, you waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Then, the orb glowed a brilliant gold.
“Perfect!” The elderly professor cried, clasping her hands together. She really liked you. “Next, please.”
Relief washed over you, and you felt a disbelieving smile creep onto your face. Scooting off the stage, you climbed down the stairs to your seat. You caught Satoru’s eye and mouthed, Good luck. He was slouching on his chair, winking at you and giving you a lazy thumbs-up.
Just as you sat down, you noticed your gaze didn’t leave him. You kept looking at him, how effortlessly good he looked in his outfit, sunglasses perched languidly on his nose. He was looking straight ahead at the stage above, and you glanced at the front too. Shoko got a pale yellow glow from the orb, an easy B.
Your eyes wandered to the girl in line ahead of Satoru. You recognized her instantly, how could you not? Wavy chestnut hair that caught the light just so, impeccable posture, an air of confidence that bordered on smug, and her pink lips upright looking behind her. She was from one of the distant kingdoms—brilliant in class, annoyingly charming, and unfortunately, quite pretty. And right now, she seemed pretty happy about being positioned so close to Satoru.
It was the way she was smiling at Satoru that irritated you. Not the polite, fleeting kind of smile you’d give a classmate. No, this was different. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curved in a way that made even you highly uncomfortable. You saw her fingers brush a strand of hair behind her ear — twice, because apparently once wasn’t enough — and she leaned just a fraction closer to him.
You squinted. Was she flirting? She was flirting. Yuck. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but your jaw tightened. Getting up sneakily from your seat, you joined the crowd they stood with to spy on the two.
“I hear the examiners this year are super strict,” she said, her voice soft and lilting. “Not that you need to worry. I’ve seen you in dueling practice — you’re incredible,” she sighed at him dramatically, eyes turned to hearts.
Satoru blinked at her, then scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks? I guess?”
She laughed — too loud for a casual compliment. “You’re so modest! That’s so rare, you know.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared up at him, clearly hoping he’d reciprocate the energy.
He didn’t. “Modest? Me?” Satoru’s tone was laced with genuine confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure you’re talking about the right guy?”
You saw Geto, his best friend, stifle a laugh at that, but you didn’t find any of this funny. Geto caught your eye and immediately stopped laughing, trying to inch closer to Satoru to warn him of your incoming wrath.
But the girl kept blocking his way.
“Oh, absolutely,” she said smoothly, leaning in even closer. “I bet you’ll get top marks, as always. You must have so many admirers.”
Your grip on your wand tightened. You might not be as violent as Satoru when it came to dueling, but you couldn’t care less about that at the moment. Nor did you seem to notice the sheer number of students surrounding you.
Satoru, as usual, was utterly oblivious. “Admirers? I sure hope so,” he said with a shrug. “But thanks, I guess?”
You wanted to shake him. How could he not see what she was doing? The way her voice softened whenever she said his name, how her lashes fluttered just a bit too much when she looked at him — it was painfully obvious. And yet, Satoru treated her like he treated everyone else: polite, casual, and just detached enough to make it clear he wasn’t interested.
“Next!” called the examiner, and the girl’s name echoed through the hall.
She turned to Satoru with a dazzling smile. “Wish me luck?”
“Uh, good luck?” he said, scratching his head.
You were half a second away from gagging, Geto slipping from beside Satoru to join you, both of you dissing the situation in hushed whispers.
As she walked away, you muttered under your breath, “Unbelievable.”
Geto muttered, equally frustrated, but this was pointed towards Satoru, “Unbelievable indeed.”
Your eyes followed the movements of her wand, and you tried to calculate the exact angle by which she tilted her wand too high, the length by which her hand movement went wrong and the distance between her wrist and the cactus assigned to her. Geto shook his head at your overly focused expression.
A loud pop filled the air, followed by startled squeaks. Your eyes widened. The examiners scrambled around, now very much turned into rats! The girl froze, her wand dangling uselessly at her side as laughter rippled through the room.
You bit your lip. What were you supposed to be feeling right now? Secondhand embarrassment or vindication? Serves her right, you thought, though a small part of you almost pitied her. Almost.
The headmaster, who had been watching the whole ordeal with an amused expression, quickly restored order, probably glad he wasn’t turned into a mouse or something. He dismissed the rest of the students and awarded automatic A’s to those who hadn’t gone yet.
You groaned and Geto laughed at you, a grimacing Shoko dangling from his arm. Together, the three of you were about to leave the hall when Satoru caught up with you, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Wild. Best exam ever. I didn’t even have to do anything!”
You shot him a sideways glance, your mood souring again. “Yeah, lucky you.”
“Wait, are you mad?” he asked, peering at you. “You’re mad. Why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad,” you said shortly, walking faster, waving goodbye to Geto, who was now left alone to deal with a hungry kitten, Shoko.
“You’re definitely mad,” he teased, catching up. “What, is it because I got an A without lifting a finger? Don’t worry, you’ll get to cheat off my usual genius self next time. Maybe you’ll even get an A+++++++ because of me… or whatever the highest grade is.”
“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re so modest,” you mimicked the girl from earlier, but he didn’t get the reference.
At break, you sat under the shade of a tree, quietly eating your snack and watching the courtyard buzz with post-exam chatter. Across the lawn, the girl was crying into her boyfriend’s shoulder, her wails loud enough to carry. You frowned, unsure whether to feel sorry for or annoyed at her.
Her boyfriend, a tall, broad-shouldered guy from her kingdom, seemed to be comforting her, rubbing her back and murmuring reassurances. Weird, you thought. He doesn’t even know he’s worse than Satoru in her eyes.
The suspension had been swift: four months for reckless and dangerous spellcasting. Watching her now, you couldn’t muster much sympathy. It was one thing to fail; it was another to fail so dramatically. It’s what she deserves.
Satoru plopped down beside you, unwrapping a burger he’d somehow acquired (probably chased after Shoko to steal her food). “Hey, isn’t that, uh... Britney? No, wait, Bridget? Or... Burger?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Burger?”
“Yeah, burger,” he said, taking a huge bite and gesturing vaguely in her direction. “She’s got layers, y’know? Like a burger.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.
“C’mon, you gotta admit it’s funny,” he said, his grin widening. “She tries to turn on the charm, and bam! Instant ratification.”
You groaned at the pun, but laughter bubbled up anyway. Satoru’s dumb humor always had a way of disarming you.
“Heyyyyyyyy!” A voice dragged out, and you were met with a flash of dark blue hair before you were hugged tightly. “I heard your exam went great, but then, of course it did.” She patted your head. “Well done.”
“Thanks, Utahime.”
“No need to thank me,” Utahime pulled out your favourite chips from her bag and handed them to you.
“Hey, nothing for me?” Satoru wailed.
“Who the fuck are you?” “Rude.”
She ignored him and turned back to you. “Anyway, did you see any of the new exchange students? They’re good-looking.”
“So?” You munched on your chips.
“So,” she said loudly, shooing Satoru off to sit in his place next to you, “we can finally get you a boyfriend.”
Satoru snorted. “Boyfriend? Why does she need a boyfriend?”
“And,” she stepped on his foot with her heel and he skipped away across the courtyard, foot in his hand and muttering curses under his breath. “There’s that prodigy guy. You two could have been academic rivals if he was in your grade. Ugh, this is so annoying. Couldn’t he repeat a few classes? Dumbass.”
“Uh, I’m not interes—” “Yes, you are,” she looked at you with a wide, crazy smile as if daring you to disagree, and you gulped.“No wasting time watching couples break up,” she pointed at the girl in front of you, whose boyfriend seemed to have heard of the real reason she messed up her spell. Utahime lifted you by one arm and practically flew the yards to reach the main hall, where your assembly would take place to welcome the exchange students.
The assembly hall buzzed with anticipation, the crowd of students shifting restlessly as they filled the rows of wooden benches. Your arm still ached from Utahime dragging you all the way here. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel drained—physically and emotionally.
The morning’s drama was still fresh in your mind, particularly the girl’s humiliating display. The idea of someone so brazenly cozying up to Satoru still gnawed at you. And now, you had to sit through an assembly to greet some mysterious prodigies who probably thought they were better than everyone else. Perfect.
“Sit here,” Utahime ordered, pointing to a spot near the front. “I need a good view.”
“Of what?” you asked, dropping onto the bench with a huff.
“Duh, the new guys. Maybe one of them will be your destined academic rival-slash-love interest,” she said dramatically, clasping her hands like a cheesy romance novel heroine.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine without one, thanks.”
“Oh, don’t be boring,” she said, plopping down beside you. “You need some excitement in your life. Besides, I heard some of the new guys are supposed to be really good-looking,” she whispered, leaning in as if discussing a conspiracy theory involving the Monarchy of Mars. “Like, model good-looking.”
You let out a noncommittal hum, tracing the edge of the seat in front of you with a finger. Utahime nudged you. “Don’t you care? Come on, aren’t you curious?”
“Not really,” you lied.
Utahime rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Sure, sure. But if someone walks in here looking like a movie star, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Your gaze wandered to the double doors at the front of the hall, where the new students were supposed to enter. You didn’t care much about the guys. But what if there were girls? Pretty girls. The kind with perfect skin and perfect hair and that effortless grace you always seemed to lack.
Your stomach churned. Why were you even thinking about that?
You glanced at Utahime, still chattering away about rumors she’d heard excitedly. She was bouncing slightly in her seat, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. But you couldn’t shake the thought — what if everyone thought the other girls were prettier? You could almost smell the break up stories your dozen friends would fetch for you because the new girls seemed hotter to the dung-nosed guys of your school.
“For the next few months, I will be stuck amidst boy troubles,” you muttered, glancing across the hall. Satoru had finally joined the crowd, sauntering in late as usual. He spotted you almost immediately and shot you a wink before sliding into a seat with Geto and Shoko.
Your stomach did an involuntary flip, but you shoved the feeling down. He was just being Satoru like always. That’s all it was.
Right?
The headmaster’s booming voice filled the hall. “Welcome, students, to this year’s exchange program orientation!”
The crowd settled as the headmaster launched into a long-winded speech about tradition, excellence, and the importance of collaboration between kingdoms. You zoned out almost immediately, your eyes drifting back to Satoru.
He was whispering something to Geto, who smirked and nudged him in the ribs. Shoko looked utterly disinterested, flipping through a medical journal she’d smuggled in. Typical.
You pulled your eyes away from them. The last time you had zoned out in class because of him, your mood had been soured for the whole following hour. The sound of applause gave you an excuse out of your reverie. The exchange students were being introduced now, stepping onto the stage one by one. They were all polished, confident, and, admittedly, quite impressive.
Utahime elbowed you sharply. “Look at that one!” she hissed, nodding toward a tall boy with striking blond hair and piercing brown eyes.
You blinked. “Looks like he walked out of a painting.”
“Exactly,” she said, smirking. “He’s perfect for you.”
You groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”
Utahime ignored you entirely, listing off reasons why he’d make a great boyfriend: “Smart, handsome, probably good at magic—”
“Definitely better at cactus transfiguration,” you muttered, earning a snort of laughter from her.
Meanwhile, Satoru had twisted around in his seat, craning his neck to see what the commotion was about. When his eyes landed on you and Utahime, his expression soured slightly. He didn’t like being left out, and it was written all over his face.
“Who’s better at cactus transfiguration?” He suddenly appeared behind you.
“None of your business,” Utahime shot back, sticking her tongue out.
“Wow, mature,” Satoru deadpanned.
The assembly droned on, with each exchange student introducing themselves in turn. You tried to pay attention, really, but your mind kept wandering. Utahime’s ridiculous matchmaking schemes. Satoru’s infuriatingly perfect smile. The girl’s earlier meltdown. It was all swirling together into a chaotic mess of emotions you didn’t have the energy to untangle.
Finally, the headmaster wrapped up his speech with a flourish. “Let’s give our guests a warm welcome!” he declared, prompting another round of applause.
As the crowd began to disperse, Utahime grabbed your arm again. “Come on, let’s go talk to him!”
“To who?” you asked, bewildered. “The blond-haired guy, obviously!”
“Absolutely not,” you said, digging your heels into the ground.
But before you could argue further, a familiar voice interrupted.
“Leaving without saying hi? Rude.”
You turned to find Satoru standing behind you still, his trademark grin firmly in place.
Utahime groaned. “Go away, Gojo.”
“Can’t. I’m here to rescue my friend from your matchmaking madness,” he said, draping an arm over your shoulder.
You tried to shrug him off, but he held on tight, his presence annoyingly comforting.
“Why do you care?” Utahime shot back.
Satoru’s grin widened, but his tone was surprisingly serious. “Because she doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.”
He tugged you away, leaving Utahime fuming in his wake.
“Thanks for the save,” you mumbled once you were out of earshot.
“Anytime,” Satoru said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice you couldn’t quite place. “And besides, didn’t want you to end up with an annoying mother—”
You raised an eyebrow at him. Did he forget he was in a royal school where all the students and teachers were high-class nobles and the mere mention of vocabulary outside of the poshed-up ones exclusively for the rich would make him an infamous wreck in everyone’s eyes?
He caught your eye and continued, “—trucker.”
──── ୨ৎ ────
The dining table was as extravagant as ever, its polished surface reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier overhead. Plates were neatly arranged, and bowls of steaming food were placed in a perfect line down the centre. Mother sat at the head of the table, her posture so upright it made your back ache just looking at her. Across from her sat Father, whose stern expression was an almost permanent fixture at meals.
You occupied your usual spot, tucked between Satoru and his mother, a position that felt both safe and stifling. Satoru, of course, lounged in his chair as if it were a throne, pushing peas around his plate with one chopstick, clearly uninterested in the discussion at hand. It was peaceful and calm. But as soon as Satoru’s father set down his chopsticks, you knew this tranquillity wouldn’t last.
“Satoru,” his father began.
Satoru didn’t even look up, lazily poking at his food. “Uh oh. Here we go.”
“Don’t start,” his mother said sharply, and Satoru sighed dramatically, dropping his chopsticks like they were too heavy to hold.
“Fine. What is it this time? Did someone see me napping in class? Because, for the record, I was listening with my eyes closed.”
“Your instructor tells me your theoretical scores are excellent, as expected,” Satoru’s mother began, her sharp gaze sweeping across the table to land on him. “But your duel with Suguru during last week’s practice was... undisciplined.”
Satoru shrugged, not bothering to look up. “It’s not my fault Suguru got cocky.”
His father’s goblet hit the plate with a sharp clink. “And whose fault is it that you refuse to follow proper form? You’re not dueling for fun, Satoru. These exercises are meant to sharpen your skills for real combat.”
You could feel the tension grow, so you instinctively focused on the rice in your bowl. Satoru, however, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.
“Real combat isn’t about sticking to the rulebook,” he said lazily, resting an arm on the back of your chair. “It’s about adaptability.”
“That is not an excuse to showboat,” his mother snapped. “You might think you’re untouchable, but arrogance will get you killed one day.”
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes — irritation, maybe, or defiance — but he masked it with a grin. “Not likely.”
“Only because you’re naturally talented,” his mother interjected coldly. “Talent will only carry you so far, Satoru. You lack discipline, respect, and—”
“Manners,” his father finished, glaring at him.
His mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “All we’re trying to make you understand is, this isn’t a joke, Satoru. You’re supposed to be the strongest, and yet you’re constantly underperforming. Meanwhile, look at her.” She gestured to you, and your heart sank.
“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath.
“Look at her,” his mother repeated. “Top marks in every subject, excellent dueling reports, and the teachers can’t stop praising. Why can’t you be more like her?”
Satoru threw up his hands. “Because she’s a robot! Have you seen her handwriting? It’s terrifying!”
“I just have neat handwriting,” you mumbled defensively.
“Neat? It’s like a calligraphy competition on every page,” Satoru said, jabbing a chopstick at you. “She probably practices writing spells for fun.”
“She’s perfect,” his father said firmly, as if it were an unshakable fact of the universe.
“Exactly my point!” Satoru exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “How am I supposed to compete with that?!”
“You’ve been doing wonderfully,” his mother interrupted warmly, and you almost choked on your water. She reached to kiss your forehead and you felt fuzzy all over.
“Really?” you said hopefully.
“Yes,” his father agreed, nodding. “We’re very impressed with your progress. And your last dueling performance was flawless. Keep it up.”
Satoru’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s it? No lecture about being even better? No existential guilt trip?”
“She doesn’t need one,” his mother said simply.
“She’s already self-motivated,” his father added.
Satoru gawked at them, then at you. “Wait, are you seriously not going to roast her? Not even a little?”
His mother held up a hand to silence the banter. “Enough. We’re not here to discuss her. We’re here to discuss you and your inability to take anything seriously.”
“I take plenty of things seriously!” Satoru protested.
“Name one,” his father challenged.
Satoru opened his mouth, paused, then pointed to you. “Her.”
You nearly choked on your rice. “What?!”
“See? I take her academic success very seriously,” he continued smoothly. “She’s basically my tutor at this point. Without her, I’d probably be failing food transfiguration.”
“Food transfiguration is not the metric for success,” his father said dryly, but his lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.
“And yet, it’s a class!” Satoru shot back. “A class I pass, thanks to her.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please stop talking.”
“Never,” Satoru said cheerfully, ruffling your hair like you were a pet.
The room went silent for a beat, and then his father muttered, “Pass the rice.”
You couldn’t help but snort, quickly covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. Satoru’s grin widened, clearly taking your reaction as a victory.
“I’m serious about the food transfiguration, though,” he whispered to you as the conversation shifted. “You saved me from flunking that one.”
“By telling you to stop turning the chicken into a dinosaur?” you whispered back, rolling your eyes.
“Exactly. Genius advice.” Satoru sighed, slumping dramatically. "I swear, if I weren’t so charming, I’d be useless."
“You are,” you replied, teasing him with a grin.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The foreign exchange students filed into the classroom. You hadn’t met any of them yet, but the instant you saw a giggling pack of girls, dressed in a way that clearly screamed “I’m a tourist, please give me attention,” take seats scattered around the room, you knew this would be a long class. They were chatting loudly, condescending smiles on their faces and prissy postures to back it up. One of them locked eyes with you and stood up.
The girl scanned the room, perhaps trying to find something to shift the attention of the bustling and noisy class to her. Sitting beside you, Geto didn’t even flinch as the girl cleared her throat loudly. You could feel it. She was about to open her mouth.
And open it she did.
“Do you guys feel,” she addressed her fellow exchange people, “that the culture here is a bit… Well, I don’t know what you'd call it. Primitive, I guess? It’s like they just dug it up from some ancient ruins," she said, waving a hand dismissively, as if she were talking about a dusty artefact. “This whole— uhm— ‘honour’ thing? So outdated. I didn’t find any such codes on how to behave in the culture of the South, or the West, or the South-West. Maybe it is because the people here still need to be taught manners, I suppose.”
The other students, contrary to what she had hoped, didn’t pay any attention to her. They didn’t seem to have heard her, because if they had… well, all of them were from noble clans, of course they would have a problem with it.
The girl didn’t seem to notice. Or care.
“You there!” She screeched at you, coming to a halt in front of your desk after pacing around like she was delivering an important lecture. “I heard you’re the top student. Representative, or something, they told me. Like—” she turned to face you more directly, suddenly noticing the lack of a surname on your badge “—wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?”
You flushed. Most of the students were tactful enough to not point that out to you, and if they did, they would return with a bruise soon after, credit to Satoru. But Satoru was in the hospital wing right now, and thankfully so, because you didn’t want him making a scene here in the middle of your Charms class. Geto’s fingers brushed lightly against your arm; he was trying to calm you down. He didn’t need to say anything; you already knew what he was thinking.
Shoko, sitting in front of you, shifted in her seat. Her fingers twitched toward her coat pocket, and you could swear you felt a chill run down your spine at the look she had on her face. Shoko’s glare was murderous, and her hand slowly moved to her doctor’s tools — just a few inches away from hurling them at the girl’s smug face.
“Don’t bother,” Geto murmured under his breath. “Let her go on. She’s not worth the energy.” His eyes never left you as he spoke, a detached smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Ignore her, Shoko.”
The girl leaned on your desk as you continued to determinedly stare at a spot on your notebook
“Oh, but wait,” she continued haughtily, “you must’ve been a mistake. I mean, the Gojo clan leaders, right? They couldn’t possibly have any sense of judgement, could they? Considering who their son is, who he’s raised by. They probably just took in anyone, huh? Just to fill the numbers. I bet they didn’t even care to see if you had any real worth.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Geto interrupted her calmly, his smile widening, a maddenned look in his eyes. “If you don’t stop right now, you might have to deal with a curse or two, because I’m not exactly one to be afraid of duelling in front of teachers.”
Alina was unfazed, leaning back in her chair with a smirk plastered across her face. “Oh, I so do. You can’t silence me. The Gojo clan is only famous because they have money and influence — nothing more.” She leaned forward again, her eyes narrowing. “And the leaders? They’re a joke. All that power, and they still let their precious son — what’s his name? Satoru? —play around like the child he is. Tell me, do you ever wonder if he’s actually good for anything besides being the ‘chosen one?’ Or is it just another piece of their precious family’s empire?”
No.
That was it.
You snapped. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. Pulling out your wand from your pocket, you let the cold tip touch her throat. The girl immediately shut up, caught off guard and not having the time to reach her own wand, which was kept on the table her friends were sitting at.
“What’s wrong? Can’t speak? I’d love to hear more from that croak of a voice you possess. Please, go on with your pathetic guesses about my lineage.”
“Don’t,” Geto warned, but you were too blinded by the ringing echo of her words about your family. Shoko was already gripping the side of her desk, looking like she wanted to step in.
“You want me to speak more?” The girl said. “I can speak more. Because I know what you are. I would have felt sorry for you if you weren’t so stuck up though. As they say, no power, no future.”
Before you could retort, or even say a quick charm to freeze her throat so it snapped in half, the door flew open, and a voice interrupted your anger.
"Both of you, in my office. Now."
It was the teacher, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly fed up. Without missing a beat, you spun on your heel, flicking a glance at Geto and Shoko.
──── ୨ৎ ────
It was oddly quiet in the headmaster’s office. You sat alone at the desk, gloves pulled snug over your hands, a rag in one and a half-polished trophy in the other. The cleaning did little to distract you from the frustration you felt.
The headmaster’s words still rang in your ears: “Detention builds character, and perhaps a lesson in self-control will serve you well.”
Self-control. As if it was your fault someone had insulted your family.
The soft creak of the door interrupted your thoughts. You stilled, expecting the headmaster to return and scold you for slacking off. Instead, a familiar white head of hair peeked around the doorframe.
"What the—" you hissed. "Are you insane? If someone catches you here—"
“Wow. You, of all people, getting detention?”
Satoru leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk on his face.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
��Came to pick you up,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Kuro was freaking out because he didn’t know why we weren’t at the gates, so I told him to head home without us.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“Relax. He’s used to me pulling stuff like this.” Satoru strolled into the room, glancing around with mild interest before his eyes landed on the pile of trophies waiting to be polished. “So... what’s the story? Did you finally snap and hex someone?”
You rolled your eyes, turning back to the trophy in front of you. “Shouldn’t you be hiding somewhere? I mean, you’re not supposed to be here after school.”
“Oh, I’m cutting it. I figured detention with you would be more fun.”
You ignored him, hoping he’d get bored and leave, but Satoru was never one to take a hint. He perched on the edge of the desk beside you.
“Come on,” he said, nudging your arm lightly. “Tell me what happened.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to look at him. “Nothing. Just... a disagreement.”
“A disagreement?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s all you’re giving me?”
You stayed silent, scrubbing furiously at a nonexistent smudge on the trophy. But your hands were shaking slightly, and he noticed.
His teasing expression softened. “Hey,” he said quietly, leaning closer and nuzzling your hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you said quickly, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. You cursed under your breath, setting the trophy down harder than you intended.
“Right,” Satoru said dryly. “You know lying is a sin, right?”
Before you could stop him, he reached out and plucked the rag from your hand. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a firm look.
“Enough,” he said, tossing the rag onto the desk. He grabbed your hands, tugging the gloves off gently, his touch warm and steady against your cold fingers.
“Satoru, what are you—”
“Helping,” he said simply.
You stared at him, your breath hitching slightly as he held your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles.
“You shouldn’t have done it,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “Gotten detention, I mean.”
Your throat tightened, and you looked away. “I didn’t even do much. I just threatened her, ‘s all—”
“I know,” he said. “But you didn’t have to stand up for me like that.”
“Yes, I did.” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. “She had no right to talk about your family like that. Or mine,” you added quietly.
Satoru’s expression softened, and he sighed, letting go of your hands only to pull you into a hug. Your breath stopped. It was so sudden and unexpected, but his arms around you were so warm and secure, and for a moment, you forgot just how cold the office was.
“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair. “For putting us first.”
You swallowed hard, your face pressed against his shoulder. You could feel his heartbeat. His vanilla scent filled your nostrils, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the sensation.
Just what were you feeling?
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. The gesture was so gentle, so unexpected, that it sent a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps prickled along your arms, and your breath caught in your throat. Eyes widening on his chest.
Satoru pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. He studied your face for a moment, his gaze searching, before giving you a small, crooked smile.
“Alright there?” he asked softly.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. His smile widened, and he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze before stepping back.
“Good,” he said, picking up your gloves and the rag you had abandoned. “Because I think it’s my turn to polish these things. You’ve done enough.”
You blinked at him, confused. “You can’t just—”
“Too late.” He waved the rag dramatically, grinning. “Go sit down and relax. Perfect students need to take a break to be imperfect once in a while.”
Despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved you off, already humming to himself as he began scrubbing.
──── ୨ৎ ────
You sat with your detention homework in your garden after the headmaster had insisted on giving you some more ‘punishments’ for letting Satoru in his office. On the stone bench, you glared at the crumpled detention slip in your hands. The words from earlier still rang in your ears.
Wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?
You must've been a mistake
The nerve of that girl, whatever her name was. She had no right to talk like that. But as much as you hated to admit it, her words dug deep. Why didn’t you have the surname? Why were you even here?
You sighed, staring down at your hands, throwing the slip away and watching it skid between bushes. The gate creaked, pulling you from your thoughts. Satoru’s mother stepped into the garden. She always seemed to know when something was wrong.
She smiled warmly as she approached. “Trouble at school?”
You let out a small huff, tossing the detention homework onto the bench. “Some girl decided to remind me I don’t belong here,” you muttered. “She’s not wrong. I mean, I don’t even have your family name. I’m just... here.”
Her expression softened, and she sat down beside you. “Suguru told me it was someone from the Kamo clan. She said that, did she?”
You nodded. “She made it sound like I’m just some random stray you all picked up out of pity.”
A shadow flickered across her face, but she stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully. Then she sighed softly and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You don’t carry the Gojo surname yet because... you aren’t meant to. One day, you will.”
You were confused. “One day? What are you talking about?”
Her gaze softened further, and she reached for your hand. “You’re not here because of pity. You’re here because I care for you deeply. You’re family to me. And... well, you’re engaged, my dear. To Satoru.”
The words hit you like a thunderclap. “Engaged?” you whispered.
She nodded gently. “It was my decision. Not to strengthen ties or fulfill some tradition — I couldn’t bear the thought of marrying you off to anyone else. You’re important to me, and to this family. No one else would cherish you the way you deserve. No one else would love you the way I know he can.”
Your head was spinning. Engaged? To Satoru? The same Satoru who stole your dessert, teased you relentlessly, and drove you up the wall with his arrogance?
“Does he know?” you managed to ask.
A small, amused smile tugged at her lips. “Not yet. I’m waiting for the right time to tell him. You know how he is — he’d probably react with some ridiculous joke or dismiss it entirely without thinking it through.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “You mean I’m supposed to sit on this bombshell while he’s running around like an overgrown child?”
She chuckled softly, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “It’s not so bad. You’ve already grown close to him, haven’t you?”
Close. You couldn’t deny it. In the past few years, you had gone from tolerating his antics to — well, something. The butterflies in your stomach betrayed you every time he smiled or stood too close.
But this? This was too much.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you asked weakly, peeking through your fingers.
“I wanted you to have time to figure out your feelings without the weight of this hanging over you,” she admitted. “And... I wasn’t entirely sure when you’d be ready to hear it. But seeing you upset, questioning your place here, I couldn’t keep it from you any longer. Forgive me, darling.” She stood then. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” she said gently. “Never let anyone make you doubt that.”
And with that, she disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone with the truth.
Engaged. To Satoru.
The butterflies in your stomach weren’t just fluttering now—they were staging a full-on rebellion. You let out a groan, slumping back against the bench.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Over a year had passed. The two of you were turning seventeen the next year, and with the increase in your age, the load of schoolwork increased too. The School of Royalty had seen so many changes. They were rebuilding the duelling grounds and organising even more clubs than before. Girls were mysteriously beginning to drop out of school, and you didn’t want to know why. There were less than ten girls in your class of fifty, and you figured this number would reduce even more as women in nobility were hurriedly married off to distant kingdoms, forced to give up their education to serve as a showpiece for the men to flaunt.
You were thankful the Gojo clan saw you as more than that, or you wouldn’t have been in the same class as your friends this year. You couldn’t bear not seeing Utahime, Shoko, Suguru and of course, Satoru.
Satoru.
The one you had realized you didn’t want if he wasn’t looking at you at all times, if he wasn’t talking to you at all times, or cracking jokes to you at all times. The one you had realized you wanted more of, more than what the two of you are now, more than what you two have ever been, more than friends, more than best friends; you wanted him more than anything in the world. Him, him, him, him. You wanted his eyes on you, his hands on you. You wanted everything about him. Everything. Every single thing—
“Hey, you alive?” His voice snapped you back to reality.
“Huh? Oh yeah.”
“I was saying,” he pulled a girl towards him by her hands and she landed on his chest with a dull thump. “This is Alina.”
You stared at her. Triumphant looking face, lips giggling into the broad layer of his front.
Wait.Wasn’t she—?
“You might remember her,” Satoru pressed. You did. Vividly.
Oh.
“She needs some duelling practice apparently, so she’s gonna be watching us from there,” he points at the stands. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s okay,” you said in a voice you didn’t know you owned. The words felt so heavy on your tongue, as if it was an entirely different person speaking them. 
“Great, thanks,” he ushered the girl back to the stands and leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead again. You blinked.
Oh, no, he didn’t see it like that at all.To him, it was just a gesture he had grown used to doing. Yeah.
You stood across from him on the training field, your stance ready and tense. The sunlight was bright today, almost too bright, and you didn’t know if it was the heat or the sudden emptiness you felt. Satoru smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You ready?” he asked, voice nonchalant. It wasn’t the usual teasing edge. The spark was missing.
You nodded.
“I’ve got you today, Gojo,” you tried making the dumb jokes he used to make. You weren’t sure if it was working, but you tried anyway.
The sparring session started, but something felt wrong. Satoru’s movements were slower than usual, his focus elsewhere. He kept glancing at the stands from time to time, as if trying to see if she was watching him. He didn’t block your attack in time, letting you knock him down with ease.
“You alright?” You bent down to help him up, but he just waved you off, a tight smile on his face.
“Yeah, yeah. Just… tired, I guess,” he shrugged, avoiding your eyes.
Alina came running down the stands, her hands clutched on her chest, fussing over him while he waved her off too, getting up.
“Another one?” “No, thank you.”
That was the first time you had ever said no to him.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Later that week, you walked into the cafeteria, hoping to find Utahime and grab a quick meal before your History class. You were halfway into the queue before you realized Utahime had Charms class right now. After all, she was a senior of yours; she would have more schoolwork than you. So you were about to take the tray you got to one of the empty tables alone, hoping to find someone else.
And you did find someone. Satoru sat across from Alina as comfortable as ever. They looked like they were on a date. Was this why he had skipped a class he had with you?
“Oh, hey,” he greeted you when you approached, but his voice lacked its usual warmth. There was a coolness in it, like he wasn’t really there.
The girl’s voice broke into the silence, bright and too eager. “I was just telling Satoru about how I’m finally starting to get the hang of wand control now. I know he’s been busy with other stuff, but he’s still managed to help me out.”
You felt the hairs on your neck prickle.
“That's great,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “I'm sure Satoru is happy to help.”
You tried to keep your expression even as you sat down on their table. Wrong choice. Satoru, oblivious or indifferent, didn’t seem to notice any sort of tension in the air. He smiled, nodding along to whatever the girl was saying, while you forced a smile and picked at your food.
You felt like an outsider.
──── ୨ৎ ────
That same week, after a banquet of the noble families held at the Gojo clan’s immaculate residence, you were walking alone towards the girls’ dorms when you overheard two voices seemingly arguing calmly. You pressed an ear onto the door hiding the people.
“You don’t seem to realize your Alina is the same girl who was insulting your own family,” Suguru was saying. “She got us into trouble too. You weren’t there so you don’t know how bad she talked about—”
“I know she’s not like how she was before,” Satoru interrupted loudly. “And I know you guys still have a problem with her, but you’ve got to trust me, okay? She’s changed.”
Your heart sank. “Changed?” Suguru repeated bitterly. “Really? After everything she said about the Gojo clan?”
He didn’t reply right away, but when he finally spoke, it was with that soft, almost apologetic tone.
“I get it. I really do. But she’s… trying, okay? She’s not the same person.”
You clenched your jaw, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You felt numb all over. Uprooting one leg from your position, you walked backwards, away from your heartbreak.
“I don’t know if I can believe that, Satoru. Not after everything she did.” “I know, but please. Try, for me?”
Your back hit the pillar and you stopped. Slowly lifting feet one after the other, you walked. You didn’t know where you were walking to, but you just walked. You didn’t know what hurt more: the fact that he was asking you to trust her, or the fact that you wanted to — because you trusted him so much.
“There you are!” Utahime caught up to you. “Where did you go? How can you get lost in your own house—” You lifted your face up to her, and she looked taken aback. She inhaled, wiping tears you never realized started falling after stinging your eyes so bad, and she asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Utahime—” your voice broke.
──── ୨ৎ ────
You were walking down the school halls, your mind preoccupied with your own thoughts as you made your way to the classroom. The noise of chatter and the shuffle of students faded into the background, making you realize you were starting to zone out again. You seemed to do that a lot these days.
“And I just know it will be you!” Alina’s voice cut through, syrupy, too sweet to be sincere. You froze, stopping behind a pillar. They were standing conveniently near the same path you had to cross to get to your class. Great. Now you had to bite back any snide remarks you had because poor Satoru would be upset if you didn’t.
You peeked out. Alina was leaning against the wall, her laughter light and airy as she spoke to Satoru, who was right beside her, looking at her with that familiar, careless smile he used to reserve for you, one that you had now grown to hate.
You could hear her complimenting him, the way she laughed too loudly at every word of his. “Oh, Satoru, your technique today was amazing, as always! I honestly don’t know just how you do it.” Her tone was sugary, and you cringed. You wanted to look away, but something held you in place, as if some invisible force was gripping you to that spot, making you watch the scene in front of you with red eyes and darkness underneath them.
Then you heard his voice. “Come on, Alina, you’re making me blush,” he chuckled playfully. He was oblivious, as usual (or maybe he wasn’t, and he truly trusted this woman more than his friends). But you weren’t. You noticed how her hands lingered on his arm a little too long, how her fingers curled around his sleeve possessively.
You couldn’t breathe.
You turned, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but of course, she caught sight of you. There was a flicker of something dark in her eyes before she forced a smile onto her face, calling out in that voice that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, hey!” she chirped, calling out your name. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?”
The words hit you like a slap. You were caught between disbelief and anger. How dare she speak to you like that? You glanced at Satoru, hoping he would interject, but he didn’t. He was too busy focusing his attention on her like a complete idiot.
You looked down at the floor, clenching your teeth. “You can have him,” you muttered. You didn’t want to show her how much it hurt, but it was all too clear in your voice and actions.
Alina’s smile faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, are you sure?” she said, “I’m sure Satoru wouldn’t mind at all. He’s such a generous guy.”
You could hear her subtle challenge, the way she was almost daring you to react. But you didn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, you straightened up, forcing the words out with a calmness you didn’t feel.
“I’m sure,” you said simply. Not waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked away as quickly as you could, your heart pounding in your chest.
Behind you, you could feel her eyes on your back, but you refused to turn around.
You hated her. You hated the way she acted so confident. You hated how she was so entitled. And you hated how Satoru, in all his charm and glory, refused to hear a word against her; how he couldn’t see the way she was trying to wedge herself between not only the two of you but also your entire friend group.
It was always this way, wasn’t it? The more you wanted him, the farther he seemed to slip out of reach.
──── ୨ৎ ────
After a three hour long soak in your bathtub, you decided it was time to go back into your room without anyone noticing. You spent most of your time hiding away from everyone; your parents, your servants, and him anyway, so you doubted anyone would miss you. With a sigh, you wore your nightdress and pushed your bedroom door open.
Satoru was sitting on your bed, his chin in his palms as he stared at the floor, clearly deep in thought and waiting for you to return. The moment you walked in, his gaze snapped to you, and the tension in the room tripled.
“You’re back,” he said. There was something in his voice — you couldn’t point out what exactly it was, but you didn’t like how it made you feel.
“What are you doing in my room?” The words came out harsher than you had intended them to be.
He didn’t answer right away; just sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before standing up and facing you fully. “Why are you always so mean to her?” His voice was quieter now, more frustrated than usual.
You blinked, taken aback. "Mean to whom?" you asked, trying to play dumb.
“Alina,” he said. “Why do you always treat her like that?”
You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, though you knew Satoru expected you to. You wanted to scream, but you held it back, just barely. “Oh, you mean the girl who’s been constantly hovering around you? The one who acts like she owns you?” You crossed your arms defensively. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was supposed to cheer her on and clap for every little thing she does.”
Satoru scoffed, taking his face in his hands before looking up again. “You don’t have to be so cold all the time! Can’t you just try to get along with her? She’s changed. Why can’t you just see that?”
“Changed?” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his innocence. “She’s the same girl who insulted your family. She insulted everything you stand for, everything you care about, and you think she’s changed? Are you seriously that blind?”
His eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth. “You’re always so hung up on the past! Why can’t you just move on?”
You shot him a look, disbelief swirling in your chest. “Move on?” Your voice was shaking with the effort of holding back everything you wanted to say. “Why is it that you’re the only person who sees that she has changed? Why is it that everyone else around you swears she hasn’t?”
Satoru didn’t respond right away. Then, he took a deep breath in, as if it was taking every bone in his body to control his emotions to hit you at that very moment. “Why do you care so much? Why can’t you just give her a chance?” he asked, almost pleading with you.
You stared at him for a moment too long. “Because,” you bit back, “She’s using you. And you’re too caught up in your own world to even see it.”
He took a step toward you, voice rising now. “That’s not true! She’s not using me! She—”
You threw your hands up in frustration. “You don’t get it, do you?” You were shouting now. “She is using you, Satoru! And I’m the one who’s supposed to stand here and watch while you defend her? While you act like she’s some saint who’s done nothing wrong?”
Satoru’s patience snapped, and his expression hardened. He couldn’t stand anymore of you making assumptions about her anymore. “You don’t even belong in this house! Why do you think you have a say in anything I’m doing? You’re not even part of this!” He took a step toward you, his eyes dark with anger, a final insult.
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The blood drained from your face as everything came crashing down around you.
“Oh,” was all you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper as your eyes filled with tears. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even look at him. You felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces in your chest.
Satoru’s expression faltered, but it was too late now.
“Leave,” you whispered through gritted teeth.
He hesitated for a second, looking like he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t. With a sharp breath, he turned and walked toward the door.
The second the door slammed shut behind him, you collapsed onto your bed, your hands clutching at the sheets as sobs wracked your body. You cried harder than you ever had before — louder, deeper, until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest ached with every gasp, every sob, the pain of his words echoing in your mind.
You don’t even belong in this house!
He was right.
You don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch?
She was right.
It is the spawn of Satan himself!
They were all right, all absolutely right, weren’t they?
Come with me, daughter.
It was a lie.
You know I won’t leave you.
Lie.
She doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.
Lie, lie, lie!
You know lying is a sin, right?
You clutched your chest hard. You didn’t know how long you cried, but when the tears finally stopped, all that remained was emptiness. A hollow space where something you had always held onto seemed to disappear.
──── ୨ৎ ────
“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly.
He shrugged, his usual smirk flickering to life. “Just passing by.”
“Passing by my room?” you shot back, though your voice was devoid of any emotion.
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Maybe… I wanted to talk.”
“What do you want?”
He hesitated, just for a moment, before forcing a laugh. “I don’t know. How are the studies? Still out to prove you’re the best in the room?”
Your expression didn’t change, and the awkwardness between you grew even more.
“Also,” he chuckled nervously, “what did you say to Utahime? I was almost killed thrice in the last two days.”
“If you don’t have anything important to say, Gojo, move.” You stepped past him, unlocking your door. You had begun locking it since the incident that night, to avoid him sneaking in when you were away and to avoid anyone walking in on you bawling your eyes out, trying to drown the repetitive voices in your head with theories about spells and charms.
“Why are you being like this?” His voice stopped you. He paused, watching you fiddle with the lock, clearly taking the hesitating actions as a cue to continue. “Like… like you don’t care.” His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, they weren’t the Satoru you knew. There was no smugness, no teasing — just guilt.
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep your voice steady. “You’re imagining things,” you said, pushing the door open.
“Am I?” His tone sharpened, and he took a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. You won’t even look at me.”
“Maybe I have nothing to say to you,” you replied, turning to him to see his expression one last time before sorrow overtook your senses again.
His shoulders were stiffened, and for the first time this night, he couldn’t meet your gaze.
“That’s what I thought,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You know exactly why, Satoru. You just don’t want to admit it.”
He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I didn’t mean it,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Satoru,” you said, slamming the door in his face before he could say anything else.
The silence that followed was deafening, and on the other side of the door, he lingered. You waited, holding your breath as you leaned against the wood, but no sound came.
And just like that, the distance between you grew wider.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Your school year was nearing the end, and summer was around the corner. The days before that had been a blur. You had avoided Satoru like the plague, throwing yourself deeper into your books and classes. Even your classmates had noticed the change, though none dared to bring it up to your face.
Except for Shoko.
“Are you okay?” she asked one afternoon, cornering you in the library.
“I’m fine,” you lied, not looking up from your Curses: A Guide to Identify the Weakness book.
“No, you’re not.” She pulled up a chair, crossing her arms as she stared at you. “You’re avoiding him, he’s avoiding everyone, and the rest of us are stuck in the middle of whatever this is.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said flatly.
She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “You’re lucky this is me and not Utahime. Just so you know, he sent a message.”
That caught your attention. Slowly, you closed your book and looked at her. “What message?”
“He said he’s done with Alina,” Shoko said softly. “Said he wouldn’t talk to her anymore.”
“Why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly.
“Because,” Shoko said, standing up, “you’re both being stupid. And I’m sick of watching my friends tear themselves apart over something that could be fixed with one honest conversation.”
“Honest conversation?” you repeated bitterly. “What’s there to say? He made his priorities clear, Shoko.”
“Did he?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Or did you just decide that for him because you’re too scared to hear what he actually thinks?”
Your jaw tightened. “You weren’t there, Shoko. You didn’t hear the things he said.”
“You’re right, I wasn’t. But I’ve seen how miserable he’s been these past few weeks,” she countered. “He won’t say it, but he’s been beating himself up about it. He knows he messed up.”
“And what about me?!” you snapped, your voice harsher than you intended. “I’m supposed to just forget everything? Pretend like I wasn’t the one he hurt?”
Shoko sighed, her expression softening. “No. But you’re not giving him a chance to make it right. He’s been trying to talk to you — hell, he even took all the hits heroically when Utahime nearly ripped him apart.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Utahime — what?”
“Oh, yeah,” Shoko said. “She had a few choice words for him. Might’ve included running him over by her carriage horses. Not my place to repeat them, but let’s just say she wasn’t thrilled with how he handled things.”
Despite yourself, a small, bitter smile tugged at your lips. “Good for her.”
“Look,” Shoko said, softening her tone again, “you don’t have to forgive him right away. But at least talk to him. He’s done with Alina, and it’s obvious you’re not over him. Don’t let this thing between you two fester any longer.”
You stared at her for a long moment, her words sinking in despite the stubborn walls you’d built around yourself. “I’ll think about it,” you said finally.
“Good,” Shoko said with a satisfied nod. “Just… don’t take too long. We’re not kids forever, you know.”
──── ୨ৎ ────
The knock on Satoru’s bedroom door felt louder than you intended. You had rehearsed this moment in your mind a dozen times already. What were you supposed to say again?
Hey. It’s me. Haha.
No no no. Hey, how have you been?
No, ugh. Hey, nice weather?
Still, when the door opened and his bright blue eyes met yours, every word you had prepared seemed to vanish. The two of you only stared at each other, he in surprise and you in embarrassment.
“Hey,” he said, trying to break the silence.
“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
The silence stretched between you for a moment before he stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. You did, though your fingers fidgeted nervously at your sides.
The room looked messy. The bedsheets were sprawled around as if he had been tossing and turning all night earlier. The curtains were closed so the room was in utter darkness. Yet, you needed no amount of light to see the look of sleep-deprivation he carried on his face.
Was it because of you? Because you had acted this way? Was it because he was regretting what he said to you earlier (he should, a voice in your head said, but you pushed it away)? Or was he failing his classes again? His stream was different from yours so you couldn’t meet him in school either. Or was it perhaps because of—
“I was—” you both started at the same time, cutting each other off awkwardly.
You let out a breathy laugh, and for the first time in weeks, his lips pulled upward, a glimmer of the boy you knew. “You first,” he offered, stepping closer.
“I was going to say that I…” Your words faltered as he reached for your hand. His fingers, warm and tentative, brushed yours before interlocking gently. “Oh. Wow.” He smiled at you, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head. “I missed this,” you admitted finally, your voice breaking slightly.
“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, softer than you had expected him to be. “For everything. For being such a—”
A sudden knock interrupted him, and a servant’s voice called from the hall. “Young Master, Miss — Madam requests your presence in the meeting room immediately.”
Satoru groaned under his breath, but you let go of his hand, smiling as well now. “We’ll talk later,” you murmured, turning to leave.
The Gojo clan’s meeting room was one thing, but the Gojo family’s meeting room felt even more imposing. High ceilings, ornate woodwork, and an air of superiority — that was the only way anyone could describe it. Mother and Father sat at the head of the low table, their expressions unreadable.
“You’re here,” his father said. He gestured for you and Satoru to sit, and you did, sitting in a formal position with your hands on your knees, feet touching the soft pillow under you. His mother only nodded at both of you. “We’ve received an invitation from the Kamo Clan.”
Kamo Clan? You had read about a legend of theirs in your history class. A man who had dropped himself to the bottom of the hells indulging with curses to create powerful heirs. The Kamo Clan had an awful reputation — ancient, powerful, and, if rumours were to be believed, sinister.
Beside you, you felt Satoru stiffen, and whisper only one word.
“Alina?”
Of course! How could you have forgotten that? The girl who had been plaguing your school ever since she set foot in it was Kamo Alina. Suddenly, what his father said didn’t matter anymore. The way his mother was staring between you and him didn’t matter anymore. What was about to happen in his room that time didn’t matter.
“The banquet,” Satoru’s father continued, and it took a lot of effort from you to keep listening, “is an exclusive gathering of noble families from across the globe. It will take place in the south, and attendance is mandatory for representatives of our house.”
You gathered the courage to steal a glance at Satoru’s expression. The look on his face was enough to tell you he wasn’t surprised by the connection. He knew. He had known it all this time. Your hands curled into fists under the table, your nails biting into your palms, probably leaving marks too.
His mother’s voice said coolly. “Prepare yourselves. You’ll leave at the end of the week. Dismissed.”
You didn’t wait for Satoru as you stood abruptly, your pillow gliding across the floor. You made your way back to your room, trying not to look back at his face, but you didn’t make it far before he caught up with you.
“Wait!” He grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. “It’s not what you think.”
You yanked your arm free, glaring at him. “It’s not what I think? Really, Gojo? Because I think you lied to me.”
“I didn’t—”
“You said you weren’t in contact with her!” you snapped.
“I’m not! This isn’t me — it’s her family. They’re the ones—”
“Oh, so her family conveniently sends in an invitation to us to attend their stupid gathering at somehow the right time?”
“I don’t know? Look,” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not at you, no, but at that darn family. “I told you, I’m not in contact with her. That is the truth. I haven’t spoken to her since—”
“Since when?” you interrupted, stepping closer. “Since you told Shoko you were done? Or since you got caught? Because it feels like right now, I’m finding out the actual truth.”
“That is not the truth, please just list—”
“Stop,” you cut him off. You had had enough. “It’s okay. I don’t know why you think I even care. I ‘don’t belong here’, remember?”
“That’s not what I meant!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.
You stepped back, shaking your head with a sigh. “Don’t follow me.”
“Please,” he pleaded, his voice softer now, desperate. But you didn’t look back as you turned and headed for the courtyard, away from him and his stupid, stupid noble traditions.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The journey to the Southern estate was agonisingly long, but then again, you were from the East, and crossing entire landmarks took more than weeks by unruly waters. After the travel on the Gojo estate’s huge ship, your family was met with a stout, snotty man representing the Kamo clan, in charge of dropping you to their estate by comfortable carriages. The carriage rocked back and forth, and the countryside unfolded before you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to appreciate any of it. Your focus remained on the window, your reflection glaring back at you. Anything to avoid looking at him.
Satoru sat beside you, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently against the carriage floor. The silence was so oppressive it practically screamed at both of you to make up already. His mother sat across from you, but her usual composed expression faltered slightly as she glanced between you and her son.
After what felt like an eternity, Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh, his head lolling back against the seat. "Are you seriously going to do this the whole trip?"
You didn’t move. “Do what?”
“This,” he said, waving a hand vaguely in your direction. “Acting like I don’t exist.”
“I’m not acting,” you replied coldly. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”
He bristled at your tone, his foot tapping faster. “Wow. Real mature.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead shifting slightly in your seat to angle yourself even farther away from him. The silence returned, heavier now, and his mother finally cleared her throat, breaking it.
“Is everything all right?” she asked delicately, her eyes lingering on you longer.
“Yes,” you answered quickly, too quickly. “Everything’s fine.”
Her brow lifted slightly, but she said nothing, her gaze darting to her son. He sat rigid, his jaw clenched as he poked his head out of his own window, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Fine,” Satoru muttered after a beat, as if to echo you. His tone was harsh, though he didn’t look at either of you.
His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t press further. The realisation seemed to dawn on her that her carefully curated plans for her son’s life — whatever they might be — were starting to crack at the seams.
Satoru’s foot finally stilled, but his irritation hadn’t seemed to disappear yet. After another stretch of unbearable silence, he tried again, his voice softer this time. "Look, I’m not going to apologize for something I didn’t do.”
“Good thing I’m not expecting one, then.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you at least try to meet me halfway here? This is ridiculous.”
You finally turned to look at him. “What’s ridiculous is pretending any of this matters. I shouldn’t even be here, right? So why don’t you just—”
“That’s enough,” his mother cut in, her tone sharper than you had ever heard it. Her gaze pinned you both in place. “We’re almost there. I suggest you both compose yourselves before we arrive.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, retreating back into silence, but not before catching the slight smirk on Satoru’s face. It wasn’t amusement, though — it was frustration barely held in check. He didn’t say another word, leaning back against the seat and staring resolutely at the ceiling as the carriage rocked along. You pressed your lips together and turned back to the window.
That was when you saw it.
The estate loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette framed against the dusky sky. It wasn’t grand in the way the Gojo mansion was. No, this place had an oddly familiar air of foreboding. Its high walls and shadowed towers looked like they were whispering secrets and things long forgotten in history. The closer you got, the more a strange chill settled over you, prickling the back of your neck.
Goosebumps ran down your arms as the carriage rolled closer. The gates opened with an almost eerie slowness. There was billowing mist surrounding the entire area, and it made the scene even more creepy. You couldn’t explain it, but something about this place just felt… wrong. It wasn’t just the estate’s imposing presence or the way the evening light seemed to bend around it — it was something you couldn’t place at all.
You felt like something bad, really bad was going to happen here, or perhaps had already happened. A chill ran down your spine when you recalled the pages of absolute horror you had seen attached to the restricted books in your library, and their vibes seemed to match that of this place.
Beside you, Satoru shifted uncomfortably. You glanced at him for a moment and saw that his confident facade had slipped. His eyes lingered on the estate, as if trying to figure out just what it was that made the place seem so uncanny and unreal, like it was something straight out of a horror novel.
As the carriage came to a stop, his mother stepped out first, poised as ever. She didn’t seem fazed by the oppressive air of the place, but then again, she rarely showed any cracks in her demeanour.
You followed, your legs unsteady as they hit the gravel path. The chill hadn’t left you, clung to your skin. Satoru came last, his usual swagger dimmed.
“Remember,” his mother murmured as the servants approached, her voice low and pointed, “appearances are everything. Do try not to embarrass the family.”
You nodded stiffly, but deep down, all you could think about was how much you wanted to leave this place. Sighing and ignoring the tremble of your gut, you held your own hands and entered the estate.
The estate’s grand entrance hall was vast, its high ceilings decorated with intricate wooden carvings that spiralled into ominous shapes. A line of servants stood on either side, their heads bowed low in synchronised precision. “Welcome to the Kamo estate,” they chanted together, their voices echoing.
A servant stepped forward, addressing Satoru’s father (and not batting an eye to his mother) with an apologetic tone. “We regret to inform you that our — that is, the Kamo clan’s — leaders could not greet you in person. Urgent matters required their immediate attention, but they send their sincerest apologies and look forward to meeting you tomorrow.”
Satoru’s father met his wife’s eyes, and she nodded curtly, and the servant's eyes widened as if he realised the error he made by ignoring her and addressing only the male leader in your group. “It is of no consequence,” she replied coolly.
As the servants moved to escort you all further inside, you couldn’t help but glance around. The estate was undeniably grand, but there was something cold and uninviting about it. The polished marble floors gleamed under flickering chandeliers, and the thick, musty air clung to your skin. It felt more like a mausoleum than a home.
The servants led you through endless corridors, the silence broken only by the sound of footsteps on stone. Every now and then, you passed ornate doors or shadowy alcoves, each one looking more foreboding than the last. You tried to shake the feeling of being watched, but the creeping sensation never left.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a door, and the servant gestured to it with a bow. “This will be your room,” he said before retreating with the others.
You stepped inside hesitantly. The room was smaller, far removed from where they were escorting Satoru now, and you had a feeling his would be uncomfortably close to Alina’s. The room was smaller, colder, and had an air of neglect, as if it hadn’t been opened in years. Dust coated the surfaces, and the faint scent of damp wood lingered in the air. There were faint scratches on the walls as if someone had clawed at them long ago. The wallpaper had started peeling in places, and the furniture looked untouched, as though someone had decided only yesterday to disturb the fifteen year old cobwebs. The architecture, the layout, even the faint smell of mildew — it was unsettlingly familiar, though you couldn’t quite place why.
Satoru’s mother appeared behind you. She took one look around the room, and her eyebrows twitched into a carefully concealed scowl. “Well,” she said. “This is... quaint, to say the least.”
You turned to face her, unsure of how to respond. She gestured vaguely at the room, the bare walls, the dull, muted colours. “If you find this unsuitable, arrangements can be made. I’m sure a clan as proud as Kamo wouldn’t want their guests to feel...” She paused, her lips curling in distaste, “uncomfortable.”
You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No, mother,” you said, forcing a polite smile. “This is fine.”
Her brow arched, as though she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t press. “As you wish,” she said softly, turning on her heel and leaving without another word.
The door closed behind her with a heavy thud, and the silence of the room enveloped you. You exhaled slowly, taking in the sparse furnishings, the musty air. You hated the idea of being a burden, but now, as you sat on the bed, watching it creak loudly, you wondered if you had made a mistake.
Late that night, you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to get yourself to sleep.
“One sheep, two sheep, three sheep—”
What would he be doing right now? Was he still upset?
“Fuck, lost count again.” You sighed loudly. This was probably the sixth time you had tried but failed to sleep. All because of him. You closed your eyes tightly to try again.
“One sheep, two sh—”
Shit. Nature’s call.
You widened your eyes and glanced at the door, dreading the thought of stepping out into the pitch-black halls of the manor. Your room didn’t even have a washroom, which seemed absurd for a house of this size and considering who it belonged to. Clenching your jaw, you tried to distract yourself from the pressure in your bladder by examining the room, but there was nothing to look at. No paintings, no books, no trinkets — just plain walls and dull furniture.
With a sigh, you finally pushed yourself up, deciding to find a maid to help you find the washroom. You lit a candelabrum sitting next to your bed to help you navigate the area. The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the walls. You tried to stay calm, but every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet made you jump. 
You walked, and walked, and walked. The layout of the house was like a maze in itself, and every turn seemed to lead to another identical hallway. Within the span of minutes, you found yourself descending a set of stairs you didn’t remember seeing before.
The air grew colder. The scent of damp stone and decay was thick in your nostrils. You paused at the bottom of the staircase, realizing with a jolt of horror that you were in what looked like the basement of the manor. The little light coming from your candles barely illuminated the space.
A wave of nausea hit you. The place smelled like dead rats, but somehow, despite your lack of sight in the room, a lot of scenes seemed to cross your mind. Shadows in the halls. Muffled screams. The overwhelming fear of being dragged into this very basement to be punished for something you couldn’t understand. Your eyes caught on the walls, and you lifted your candelabrum up and stepped closer. There were faint marks carved into the stone. Tally marks. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.
Your hand reached out, trembling, brushing against the ridges. A flash of a memory hit you — your hand gripping a piece of stone fully covered in blood, dragging it across a surface, one line after another. But where had it been? In a classroom, on the board? No — this was something else, something darker. Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, the nausea overwhelming.
“Miss?” A voice shattered the silence, and you whipped around to see a maid standing at the top of the staircase. Her face was pale, her brows furrowed, as if you had offended every fibre of her body by stepping down into this basement. “What are you doing down here?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. The smell of the basement, the tally marks, the scenes — they clung to you, and you could only shake your head.
“Let me escort you back to your room. You shouldn’t ever be here”
You nodded mutely, following her up the stairs. She led you back through the winding halls. By the time you reached your room, the trembling in your legs had mostly subsided, though the chill of the basement still remained. She opened the door for you, offering a rigid nod before disappearing back into the dark hallways. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and exhaled shakily.
Your hands were still trembling slightly as you sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady your breathing. The scenes — fragmented, disjointed — played on a loop in your mind. What were they? Forgotten memories? Flashbacks? The tally marks, the muffled screams. They were just like something out of your worst nightmares. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the sting of tears prickling at your eyes.
A soft knock at the door startled you. You hastily wiped your eyes, rising to your feet. When you opened it, Satoru’s mother stood there. Her expression softened slightly when she saw you.
“You’ve been crying,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.
She swept into the room, her gaze flickering briefly to the empty, barren space. “This room is unacceptable,” she said bluntly. But then, as she turned to face you, something in her eyes looked gentler, almost human — something she had always carried around you. “You should have asked for it to be changed, darling.”
You shook your head. “I didn’t want to be a bother. It’s fine, really.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she studied you. Then, to your surprise, she stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You’re far too used to accepting the minimal,” she said quietly. “That’s not what you deserve.”
You blinked, startled by the tenderness in her tone. Before you could respond, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her cool hand lingering briefly against your cheek. The gesture was so unexpected, so maternal, that your throat tightened with emotion.
“I will speak to the servants in the morning,” she said, straightening but not pulling away. “And if you ever feel uncomfortable — ever — you will tell me. Do you understand?”
You nodded wordlessly, unable to trust your voice.
“Good.” She adjusted the edge of your sleeve with a small, practised motion, as if tidying you was a second nature for her. “Get some rest. You look exhausted.”
She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder. “And whatever it is that has you so unsettled tonight... I will see to it. Do not let it weigh on your mind. The past has a way of creeping into the present, but you are stronger than it.”
The door closed softly behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room.
For the first time since you had arrived at the estate, you felt a sliver of comfort.
──── ୨ৎ ────
Over the next week, your efforts to blend in with the household paid off in more ways than one. Most of the maids, initially wary of you as a noble guest, had warmed up to your presence. They appreciated your willingness to help with menial tasks and often joked that you were more reliable than some of their own peers. Soon enough, their dislike for the Kamo family began to slip into their conversations.
It started one evening when you were helping two maids, Haru and Tomoko, carry water from the wells. They spoke in hushed voices, glancing around nervously as though the courtyard’s walls themselves might eavesdrop.
“I’ve always said the Kamo family has skeletons in their closet,” Haru muttered. “Well, in this case, they’re probably in the basement. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”
You nodded. “I have. It’s disturbing. What were those tally marks on the walls?”
Tomoko sighed, setting her bucket down with a huff. “No one really knows for sure. Some say it’s the number of people tortured down there. Others think it’s the number of people who died. Either way, nothing good ever happened in that place.”
Before you could press further, another maid, Aoi, cut in sharply. She was older, sharper, and rigid. Yet you had watched her pull the buckets back up from the walls with such brute force that it was no wonder she was still working for the clan despite her age. “Enough! You shouldn’t fill her head with stories. She’s a noblewoman; this isn’t her concern.” Her eyes avoided yours, fixed firmly on the stone path.
Haru rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, relax, Ms Aoi. She’s not like the rest of them. She’s helped us more than half the family ever has. Why shouldn’t she know what’s really going on?”
Tomoko nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! And she’s already seen the basement. It’s not like we’re revealing some great hidden treasure. Besides, it’s about time someone outside this house knew what the Kamo family is really like.”
Aoi crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “And what good will it do her to know? The Kamo family isn’t to be trifled with. You’re putting her in danger — and yourselves, too, for that matter.”
You cut in gently, trying to defuse the tension. “I appreciate the concern, Ms Aoi, truly. But if the Kamo family has nothing to hide, then why should talking about it be dangerous?”
Haru smirked. “See? She gets it.”
Tomoko leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Do you want to know what I heard? Years ago, when the punishments in the basement were still happening, the head of the house would personally oversee them. And sometimes…” she trembled visibly. “Sometimes, they weren’t even punishing people who broke the law. Just anyone they didn’t like. Servants who fell out of favour. Merchants who got on their bad side.”
Haru shuddered. “They say the screams would echo up through the floorboards. That’s why most of the older staff refuse to even talk about it. Too many bad memories. There is also the ghost of that little girl—”
“That’s enough!” Aoi snapped. “The girl doesn’t need every grisly detail.”
“Oh, come on, Aoi. You hate them as much as we do. Don’t act like you’re above this.”
“Whether I hate them or not is irrelevant,” Aoi huffed. “You’re still being reckless. If anyone hears about this...”
Tomoko grinned mischievously. “And who’s going to tell them? You?”
Aoi gave an exasperated sigh but said nothing.
That night, you wrote letters to Shoko and Utahime, recounting the strange conversation and the haunting basement. You might have mentioned a glimpse of Satoru, too, though your thoughts on him were far more conflicted.
Shoko’s reply was predictably blunt.
Sounds grim. Torture rooms, tally marks, mysterious deaths — real classic Kamo vibes. Maybe they’re compensating for their family’s lack of charm.  But, you know, not my circus, not my corpses. Still, were they tortured with surgical precision? If so, let me know which tools were involved. I’ve got a scalpel set if you want to reenact it. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see how far someone could go with a bone saw and no anaesthetic. For science, of course. Stay alive. Bye.
PS: If you find any good booze down there, bring some back for me.
Utahime’s letter was far less chill.
That two-timing bastard is probably off doing handstands to impress some girl who can't tell her right from left. Honestly, I’m waiting for your mother to tell him the truth already. If he doesn’t start acting like your fiance, I’m going to come over there and bury him in that damn basement myself. If I had to spend more than two breaths in his company, I’d kill him. Actually, I’d kill him for free. Just say the word.
PS: If I didn’t love you, I would’ve told you to go into that basement again just for fun. But I do love you, so stay safe.
The Kamo clan leaders remained an enigma. Somehow, their presence was so secretive that their portraits were absent from every book and document in the library. You wondered if even the servants themselves had seen these people. “Maybe they’re so ugly they’re too ashamed to show their faces?” Shoko had suggested in one letter, and you still snorted remembering that.
From all your time in the estate’s library, you could only  find their names — Kamo Daijiro and Kamo Akane. Creepy. You also learned they had two daughters: Alina, the eldest, and her twin who had married into another prestigious family and no longer lived at the estate.
You still hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Daijiro or Akane, but that would change soon. A grand gathering was scheduled for the following night, and the maids were already preparing for their arrival in the estate.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The Kamo maids worked on you, dabbing floral scents to your neck and pulling a corsage on your hands. Behind you, Aoi’s hands deftly pulled at the laces of the corset you were reluctantly being tied into. Earlier, an unexpected scuffle had broken out between the Gojo clan maids and the Kamo maids when the latter had shown up, intending to tend to you.
“She’s our priority,” one of the Gojo maids had sniffed, her arms crossed.
“Not anymore,” retorted Tomoko. “She is living in the Kamo residence right now. Your loyalty isn’t required here.”
“Well, she’s from the Gojo clan!” snapped another maid, her tone haughty.
“Yes, and?” Haru shot back. The Gojo maids had given up after a reassuring smile from you, muttering about how they are only leaving because “the Lady asked so”. 
Now, Aoi was tugging the corset strings tighter. The conversation had shifted from the petty bickering of maids to something far darker.
“You wouldn’t believe the stories this house holds,” one of the younger maids murmured, a shiver in her voice. “Do you know about the little girl?”
“What girl?” you asked. You hadn’t seen the story of any little girl mentioned in the books you had read, but you had distinctly remember a mention of her story in an earlier conversation with these maids.
“Ms Aoi knows about it best!” Haru exclaimed.
Aoi’s face darkened as she let out a long sigh. “It happened about a decade ago,” she began. “A child had appeared on the doorstep, barely an year old, mind you. The family had taken her in, but of course, they did not treat her like a daughter. They had left her in the care of us servants. I was like her mother,” she said proudly. “She had turned three, I still remember, it was her birthday that night. She spilled a glass of expensive red wine on Lady Akane’s dress. It wasn’t even the girl’s fault. She was just a baby, carrying a tray too big for her tiny hands. But Sir Daijiro… he doesn’t forgive mistakes.”
The other maids exchanged uneasy glances as Aoi huffed loudly, pausing her hands on your laces to wipe stray tears. “The girl was dragged to the basement, where they lock away the disobedient. She… she never came out.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “She was… killed?”
“Yes,” whispered one of the younger maids, her voice trembling. “It’s said her ghost still lingers. Sometimes we hear her cries late at night. And the mist that hangs over the estate? They say it’s her curse — her anger at the clan.”
Aoi nodded grimly. “I was here. I wasn’t much younger than I am now, but I couldn’t do anything to save her. All I could do was sneak her scraps of food and try to mend her torn dresses after… after the punishments.”
You were horrified. “Punishments? For a child?”
Aoi’s tears couldn’t be held back anymore. “She was just a baby,” she croaked thickly. “I’d hear her cry at night, calling for her mother. And when… when…” Haru handed Aoi a cloth to wipe her face. “When she died… it was the moment I stopped believing the Kamo family had any humanity left.”
The room fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of Aoi’s sniffling and your shallow breathing. “How can someone be so cruel?” you murmured.
“That’s why we’re all so terrified,” Tomoko confessed. “If they could do that to a child, what chance do we have? Everyone here walks on eggshells, afraid to make even the smallest mistake. The leaders haven’t changed. They’re still the same people who let that little girl die.”
Aoi’s hands resumed their work, tying the last knot on the corset. The maids stepped back. You glanced at the mirror, seeing not just your reflection but the haunted expressions of the women around you.
The little girl’s story stuck with you, her cries echoing in your mind. If the Kamo clan could be so ruthless to a defenceless child, what horrors could they unleash on those who dared to cross them?
──── ୨ৎ ────
The grand gathering was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of incense and expensive perfumes, the soft hum of conversation occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter. You had probably sent about fifty letters in all to Shoko, Utahime and even Geto asking them if they would come to the South, and they all had replied with repetitive no’s. You had tried to keep your head down, avoiding the heavy gazes of the Kamo guests. But you were glad to see that Satoru, for once, was sticking close to you, uncharacteristically quiet. He hadn’t so much as glanced at Alina all evening, and perhaps even all this time during the visit if you were lucky. Not that you cared, of course.
Earlier, when you had overheard his mother asking him to keep his distance from “that Kamo girl”, and you remembered how he had rolled his eyes so hard you thought they would have gotten stuck.
“Fine,” he had said with mock drama. “But only because I’m such an understanding guy. And because I want you to stop looking like you’re ready to shank me with a chopstick.”
Now, true to his word, his focus was entirely on you. Every time you caught him looking elsewhere, it was never in her direction. He had even waved off her attempts to engage him, subtly turning his back to her as though she didn’t exist.
“See?” he murmured, leaning down to your ear. “Haven’t even looked her way. You believe me now, right?”
You arched a brow, unimpressed. “You don’t get points for doing the bare minimum, Gojo.”
“Bare minimum?” he gasped, and you smiled a little. His response reminded you of the ‘old times’, as they were now. “This is maximum effort for me! Have you met me?”
“Hush now, both of you,” his father interrupted. “They’re here.”
The Kamo clan heads arrived, and the air shifted. The room quieted, all eyes turning to the doors as Daijiro and Akane Kamo entered. Their presence was magnetic, commanding. As they moved through the crowd, the guests bowed slightly, parting to make way. You moved your eyes to the carpeted floor. You didn’t want to introduce yourself to someone who would torture a little girl to death, for God’s sake.
But then curiosity overtook your senses. You had been thinking of what they would look like for ages. They were like a mystery you had been picking apart ever since you stepped foot into that basement. Now was finally the moment you would get to see the leaders who hid from newspapers, books and even their own servants. You finally looked up. And the moment you saw their faces, the world seemed to tilt.
Sharp cheekbones. Piercing eyes. Their very presence struck a chord you hadn’t felt in years. Distantly, hauntingly familiar…
Your parents.
“Hush, little baby, everything you need is right here,” your mother cooed, and you walked to where he was leading you. “Yes, that’s it. There are your favourite snacks here, and all your favourite toys. Come on. Go there.”
But you found something else to interest you. Aoi, the maid, was standing right there, watching everything, and you wanted to walk to where she was instead of your bad mother.
“Stupid girl, where are you going?” your father pushed you from behind into the basement, and you fell over its many steps. Falling, falling, falling. By the time you reached the bottom, your face felt hot with some weird liquid.
“This is your new house — for now,” your mother said finally, walking down the steps. “You have given me enough trouble. From the moment I was cornered in that dark alley, alone and frightened, till now — you have been nothing but trouble. You are a constant reminder of what happened to me that night. You shall die, die!”
“There, there, now, Akie,” you watched your father cradle your mother’s head in his chest. You tilted your head, and the force almost made you fall back to the ground. “The child will no longer remain here. I have the most secretive merchants arriving from the North to here. They will be taking this… thing away from us, away from you. And then you shall finally be free.”
The realisation hit like a crashing wave, pulling the air from your lungs. Your vision blurred, and your chest tightened. It was too much. Too much. It was unbearable.
Without thinking, you reached out, your trembling hand finding Satoru’s mother instead of him. Her warm, steady grasp grounded you back to reality, and she turned to you immediately in concern. She studied you for just half a second before realising something was wrong, horribly wrong.
“Come,” she said softly, guiding you out of the hall without a moment’s hesitation.
Satoru’s voice trailed behind you, confused. “Where are you—”
“Stay with your father,” his mother ordered firmly over her shoulder.
Once outside, the cool night air hit your face, and it made you realise the warm wetness flooding your cheeks and stinging at your eyes. She led you to a quiet corner of the garden, still holding you as tightly as possible.
“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning your face. “Are you unwell?”
The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “They’re my parents.”
Her brow furrowed. “Who are?”
“Them.” You swallowed hard, finally breaking down. “They! They left me. They sold me. I didn’t know their names but… I’ve seen them. They’re…”
Her expression shifted from confusion to horror. You looked at her face. You had never seen a look like that on her ever before. She released your hand only to pull you into a tight embrace.
“You poor thing,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I had no idea. But I swear to you, they’ll never hurt you again. Not while I’m here.”
You cried on her shoulder loudly, and you could feel she was crying softly too. “Why? Am I not worth raising… Mom?” She pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands. “Why didn’t they come back for me?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care what their reasons were. You will be a Gojo soon. It is only a matter of time now. And you will forever, forever,  be a part of our family. I will not let the Kamos stain your history, ever.”
You sniffled. From somewhere in the hall, you could hear Satoru’s loud voice, probably causing some kind of scene.
“See?” his mother said softly, trying to distract you. “He hasn’t looked at their girl once, just like he promised. That boy might be infuriating, but when it comes to you, he’s surprisingly reliable.”
A faint smile tugged at your lips.
Satoru’s mother stood behind you. Her fingers were combing through your hair softly, as if to sooth your emotions with her caring rhythm. She adjusted your corset strings next, pulling them tighter, not harshly, but enough to make you focus on the present instead of the roaring panic threatening to take over.
Beyond the ornate doors of the gathering, voices rose and fell. You strained your ears to pick out the words, leaning slightly toward the source. And then you heard it.
A deep, booming voice. The same voice from your nightmares. The one that haunted your memories. Your breath hitched. It felt as though the walls were closing in to suffocate you.
Satoru’s mother’s hands immediately moved to your shoulders to steady you. “Breathe, darling,” she said firmly. “I’m here, am I not? You are safe.”
You nodded, though tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I’m trying,” you whisper, clutching the fabric of her dress tightly.
And then, the voice spoke words that made your blood run cold.
“…a marriage between Kamo Alina and Gojo Satoru.”
You froze. Your heart seemed to have stopped. The room seemed to have crashed down onto you. You tried to process what you had just heard. Satoru’s mother stiffened behind you, her hands pausing mid-movement.
“What did they just say?” you whispered.
She didn’t respond, though her head tilted slightly as she listened intently to the conversation happening inside the room. You caught snippets of whispers as noble families exchanged their astonishment at the bold proposal.
Surely, Satoru’s father knows. He knows that Satoru is supposed to be engaged to you.Right?
But then you heard him speak. His voice seemed proud and approving. “An excellent proposal, Daijiro Kamo. This alliance shall strengthen both our families. I accept.”
The words hit you like a slap. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you thought you might be sick.
“Mom?” you whispered and turned to Satoru’s mother. “Why…?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “That moron,” she hissed under her breath. Her hands fell away from your shoulders furiously. “He didn’t consult me. He didn’t consult anyone except Daijiro. Of course, he didn’t. Men like to think their decisions are final simply because they made them.”
The applause from the other side of the door grew louder. The sound vibrated in your ears as the nobles toasted the ‘union’. Your panic surged again. “What do we do?” you asked desperately.
Satoru’s mother exhaled sharply. “I shall handle it.”
When she threw the doors open roughly, the room fell silent. The silence following her entrance was not mere courtesy; it was submission. Her presence demanded it. Yet Kamo Daijiro, standing near the center with a goblet of red wine in his hand, immediately stepped forward with a smug smile. “Ah, my lady Gojo,” he began, his voice filled with condescension. “I was just about to inform you of the wonderful arrangement your husband and I have come to. My daughter, Alina, will—”
“Will do nothing,” she cut him off coldly.
Daijiro blinked, clearly taken aback by the interruption. “I beg your pardon?” he said with mock-politeness.
“You heard me,” she said, stepping further into the room. Every eye in the room was on her. “You dare discuss an engagement for my son without consulting me?”
Daijiro’s lips curled into a patronizing smile. “With all due respect, Lady Gojo, this is a matter for the men to decide. Your husband and I both agree that this alliance is mutually beneficial. Surely you trust your husband’s judgment.”
She laughed humorlessly. “Trust his judgment? You think I’m going to stand by while you play politics with my son’s life?”
She turned to glare at her husband. Satoru’s father cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable under her piercing gaze, but Daijiro waved him off. “Lady Gojo, your anger is misplaced. This is a matter of strategy. You may oversee the household, but these are decisions of power — something women cannot fully comprehend.”
The room grew deadly quiet now, and Alina seemed to have understood that what her father just said had been a mistake. Satoru’s jaw tightened at the insult at his mother, but he did not say anything yet. You were still frozen in the doorway, but you could feel that he was about to snap at any moment now.
Satoru’s mother’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Women cannot comprehend power?” Every word was pronounced clearly, and she took a single step closer. “You’re standing in my authority. Under my presence. Having begged for my appearance at this folly of an event. And you think I don’t comprehend power?”
“But this is an alliance—” Daijiro started.
“An alliance that disregards my authority,” she interrupted sharply. “An alliance that treats my son like a pawn in your political game of blind chess,” Her eyes flicked briefly to Satoru, who watched the exchange with a furrowed brow.
The room erupted in whispers. The many noble families exchanged shocked glances. Even Satoru’s father looked uncomfortable now, though he didn't dare interrupt.
Daijiro straightened, his tone hardening. “Lady Gojo, I understand you may feel... emotional about this. But this is for the good of both our families. Surely you don’t mean to disrupt an agreement between two patriarchs.”
Her expression darkened further. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for a glass of wine from a nearby tray. In one swift motion, she threw it to the ground, and the crystal shattered into thousands of shards. The sound echoed in the silence.
“The marriage is off,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “Because Satoru already has a fiancee.” She turned and gestured to you, standing awkwardly in the doorway having followed her from outside. “My future daughter-in-law, her.”
The room erupted into chaos. Gasps and furious whispers filled the air. Kamo Daijiro’s face turned a deep shade of red. The Kamo clan, the maids (who were standing outside, peering through the gates you left open, having not been allowed to enter the prestigious ceremony) and leaders alike, looked mortified at her words. 
“You cannot be serious,” Akane said through gritted teeth.
“I’ve never been more serious,” she countered.
“You have humiliated my family!” Daijiro growled, stepping closer threateningly.
At this, Satoru stood up, his sword in his hand as he placed himself between his mother and Kamo Daijiro. He tilted the weapon slightly to make sure the threat of blood was sent across to Daijiro, and blocked the way to his mother. Her eyes softened at his action, and she straightened. “This discussion is over. Take your child and leave, Kamo. I will take mine. There is no alliance to be forged here. Gojo clan!” She called to the maids, soldiers and workers of the Gojo clan who had come along with them on the journey. “We shall set off back home right now. Prepare.”
Daijiro stared at her with rage and humiliation. But when he glanced at the sea of judgmental eyes surrounding him, he knew he lost. With a barely concealed snarl, he turned on his heel, motioning for his family to follow.
Satoru fixed his sword back into its scabbard. His mother turned to you, softening again. She rested a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Come. We shall leave this place now, for good this time.”
She led you out of the hall, her grip steady and reassuring, even as the whispers behind you grew louder.
──── ୨ৎ ────
The journey back home felt strangely fast compared to the painstaking crawl southward. Perhaps it was Satoru’s mother’s fiery words that had lit a spark of patriotism among the servants, and maybe even the horses. Whatever the case, you arrived at the Gojo estate far sooner than expected.
You barely had time to set foot inside when Satoru found you. He cornered you in one of the quieter hallways. The first thing you noticed was his face; his usual, easygoing expression was clouded with something you had never seen before.
“Did you know?” he asked.
You blinked, thrown off by the abruptness. “Did I know what?”
“That you’re my fiancee.” The words came out bitter and flat, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying them aloud.
Your breath caught in your throat. You had been bracing for this conversation, but not so soon. Not like this. “Yes,” you admitted after a moment.
He reeled back, as though the admission had physically struck him. “You knew?” His voice rose, echoing off the corridor walls. “How long? How long have you known?”
“A year,” you said hesitantly, feeling guilt rise up in your throat. “I mean… last year, your mother—”
“A year?” His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’ve known for an entire year, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I thought she would tell you,” you stammered. “She said she’d handle it.”
“Well, clearly, she didn’t!” he snapped, spinning to face you again. “So what, you were just going to wait until the wedding invitations went out?”
“That’s not what I meant!” you shot back. “I didn’t even agree to this in the first place. I was just as blindsided as you when she told me!”
“But she did tell you, and you did know,” he repeated coldly. “And you didn’t think I had a right to know?”
“You’re acting like I had a choice!” you said, your voice rising to match his.
“That doesn’t excuse keeping it from me!” he shouted too. “You and my mom — both of you — went behind my back. You made me feel like an idiot standing in that room today.”
“Oh, we made you look like an idiot?” you scoffed. “Why? Because you were actually planning to agree to her proposal? Because you wanted to marry that witch of a woman?”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious? I barely even looked at her if I didn’t have to!”
“That was because mother had told you not to!” you countered. “Don’t stand there and question me when you’ve been acting like you have other options.”
“I didn’t know I didn’t have other options!” he shouted. “Because no one told me! The two people I trust the most in this world, you both kept me in the dark!”
You sighed. “Satoru—”
“No,” he cut you off. “Do you have any idea what this feels like? To know that the people you rely on the most didn’t think you were worth the truth?”
“That’s not fair,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “I was just obeying mother—”
“Obeying mother?” he laughed incredulously. “By lying to me?”
“I didn’t lie!” you snapped. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Well, you should have figured it out,” he said bitterly. “Because now, all I can think about is how little I actually know about you. About us. About… anything.”
The air between you felt heavy, suffocating. You wanted to say something, anything to fix the look of betrayal in his eyes, but your mind was blank.
Finally, he shook his head, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. “Look… I’ve never thought of you that way before, okay? You’re… you’re pretty, but you’re like a sister to me. That’s how I’ve always seen you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Oh. Of course.
“I need space,” he muttered, stepping back. “I need time to think.”
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© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
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tteokdoroki · 3 months ago
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✎ᝰ. OCT 1ST ★ BONDAGE - satoru gojo .ᐟ
[CHAPTER ONE RAPUNZEL] satoru gojo as flynn rider + bondage. once upon a time, a girl trapped in a tower with nothing but her extremely lavish, long hair as company decides…fuck it and sleeps with a handsome stranger to get what she wants ( 9.1K ).
✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, rapunzel!au, strangers to lovers, role reversal & switching, orgasm control, sensory deprivation, edging, thigh riding, spit kink, outer-course, begging, handjobs (m!recieving), reader's hair has blonde streaks but colour remains ambigous, rapunzel + fem!reader, flynn rider!satoru gojo.
✧ fairy godmother's note - yippieee!! kickstarting spooky season with this hefty boy. we have our glorious blue eyed king welcoming you all to our fourth annual tteokdoroki kinktober - i hope you all like what's planned this year and enjoy this piece to start with !! kissies hehe <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆
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“you’re going to take me to see the floating lights. or else.” 
“or else, what, honey?” 
ever since satoru gojo climbed the wooden lattice sewn to your tower by blooming, overgrown weeds and winding vines effectively invading the safest space in the world ( according to mother ), he’s been a pain in your fucking ass. when he’d first arrived, a towering and unfamiliar figure creeping about the main floor — your heart had dropped to the base of your stomach, pulsing rapidly with fear while he scoped the scene. you’d never come across a man before, mother had made sure of that, warning you of their cruelty and ugliness both inside and out. except satoru looked nothing like the descriptions your mother had left you with, you’d say that the man was stunning. not that you had much to compare him to.
his hair was a crisp white, appearing soft to the touch much like the snowfall that came in the winter months (something about playing in it. contrastingly, his eyes were a beautiful shade of baby blue — eerily similar to that of a summer sky free of cloudiness. he was too good looking to be human, for it to be natural, almost as if satoru had strolled straight out of one of the many fairytale books mother purchased for you from the markets. although, over the years you’ve probably read each book cover to cover a million times and not one fictional prince could even match this stranger’s sheer beauty.
though for now, this handsome stranger’s looks would get him nowhere with you. strangers always came with dangers, and since all you’d known throughout your years of living were these four walls, you weren’t going to take any chances with satoru and whatever problems he’d have brought with him.  initially and out of an unfamiliar fear, you’d  taken the nearest weapon to you (a frying pan) and cracked it right over his skull — watching the hunk of a human collapse to his knees and eventually black right out. if mother were around, she would have been proud. you’d tried not to feel any guilt trying to stuff his limp, lengthy limbs in your closet or under your bed because… well, what business does this stranger have with you? what the fuck is a man doing here? how did he get here? why is he here? 
your whole life you’ve been convinced that the outside word was treacherous and that you had to stay inside, where it was safe, because people were horrible and selfish — intent on hunting you down for the powers that lay intertwined in the coils of your hair. those specific streaks that glow a valuable gold between the usual  colour of your locks whenever you sang. mother would style them the way you liked every night — so long as you sung for her. you weren’t about to let mother down, nor risk the little life you built here together.
but, as it turns out, satoru wasn’t looking for the magic sprouting from your crown and entangled in your hair. it almost seemed like he had no idea about them either. rather, the moonlit haired man was looking for a place to lay low and hide after being chased through the forest for his satchel that seemingly carries something valuable. a crown… jewels that have a weight familiar to your head and sparkle like something you’ve seen before in a distant memory. 
“come to think of it, honey, where is my satchel?” cocking his head to the side, sky blue eyes peer up at you with a charm that sends a foreign swarm of butterflies ripping through your stomach.
you frown, accusingly pointing your weapon of choice at gojo’s head and puffing out your chest to appear as intimidating as possible while giving him your name. “i’ve hidden it in a secure location—“ 
“it’s in that pot…isn’t it?” 
as best as he can in the handcuffs he can call locks of your hair, the tower’s newfound infiltrator gestures towards a colourful pot in the corner of tne room. what? all you could think of in the moment is restraining him against the chair and why waste perfectly good rope when you’ve got such length to your own hair? the pot was the closest spot too.you knock him out swiftly after his guess, not giving gojo the satisfaction of finding his precious purse.
now, with the satchel hidden once more, satoru gojo semi-concussed and conscious once again — you realise that for the first time in your life, you have some kind of leverage to bargain with. you need someone to take you to see the floating lights that illuminate the sky on your birthday, every year. satoru needs his… crown? that so obviously doesn’t belong to him. of course, he would have stolen it, mother always said men were no good and always take what isn’t theirs (oh the irony). nonetheless, it  was the perfect match of desires.
this way, you could prove to mother that you weren’t weak like she said you were. that you could cope by yourself and go explore the outside world. it wouldn’t be how it usually is with mother — where you ask for something and instantly get denied because she believes you to be too naive to function in a world outside of her. not this time. this time you have a bargaining chip. a satchel containing a valuable so rare that satoru was willing to risk his life for.
your captive wriggles against the restraints of your hair, woven around the chair like tough knots of a rope to keep him at bay. while the silver haired fox may not have canines like your mother suggested, you have no idea how powerful he could be. contrastingly, gojo finds your hair to be soft against his skin, ticklish along the veins of his arms despite how secure it has him strapped down. he’s forced to listen and to follow your every move across the floor plan, guided by the strength of your hair tugging him about.
“i have a proposition for you. come, look.” drawing back a curtain to reveal a painting from earlier — you recite your plan to your intruder. tomorrow evening, he will take you to see the floating lights … ahem…lanterns that drift across the sky on your birthday every year and then, return you safely to the tower before mother returns. it’s an easy deal.  “i won’t give your satchel back until then,” you stutter out fiercely, adjusting your height and the grip you have on the cool metal frying pan. “you won’t get it back until you’ve taken me to see the lights.” 
“oh whatever, i can just take it back, honey,” satoru goads, cockily ripping his head back in patronising laughter. even though the melodious sound makes irritation bubble hot underneath your skin, you can’t help the way your eyes are immediately drawn to the man’s Adam’s apple as it bobs delectably along with his chuckles. “as soon as i get out of this…hair? hair.” pale blue eyes flicker up to your face when gojo fixes himself in the seat he’s fixed to. they bore deeply into your soul, reading you with as much ease as you have flicking through the same three books that you own. you feel the weight of your hair shift around satoru’s shoulders as he gestures down to it nearly wrapped around his bulging forearms (not that you’d been paying attention). “this is kinda freaky, hon. don’cha think?” a slow sexy smirk tugs at the corners of gojo’s plush, glossy lips, or rather, he smoulders attempting to woo you into giving him what he wants. “you don’t seem like the freaky type, sweetheart.”
once more, a frustrated flame flares up in the middle of your chest — you’d feel offended for sure if you know what gojo meant. “freaky?” 
“as in like… dubious?” he grins in response, running the pink tip of his tongue over his straight, perfectly white teeth. “this is basically bondage, yanno?”
you blink once. confused.
“improper?” 
nothing, not one of these synonyms or explanations from the smiling idiot makes any more sense to you — bringing you to tilt your head to the side, innocently like a puppy that makes satoru laugh once more. this time it actually does something to you. sends weird butterflies fluttering in your tummy.
with a shake of snow white locks and an inhale that sounds amused as it goes, your hostage clicks his tongue — letting those cooling blue eyes slink up and down your virtuous frame . the swell of his lower lip trapped between pretty perfect teeth. “as in sexy, sweet thing.” satoru’s sickly sweet and powdered sugar coo slips through one ear and out of the other like hot, viscous molasses, you immediately shudder — flustered down to the meat on your bones, curling in on yourself as your faux intimidation tactics melt from your body and slip between the floorboards beneath your bare feet. “gosh! you’re so innocent,” his gaze rips away from you, and you fight back an unexpected whimper, missing the intruder’s gaze on you. “guess that’s what being trapped in a place like this does to a darlin’ thing like you. you wouldn’t last a day out there.” 
he’s patronising you. speaking to you as though you’re no more than a child. however, being talked over and down on is all you’ve ever known, especially from your mother… but the way he acts reminds you of all of the advice she’s bestowed upon you over the years. mother tells you all the time, how naive and silly you are. how people will try and take advantage of your looks and your kindness. and so you decide to use your mother’s advice — if all humans, act like dogs, you’ll throw one a bone and wait for them to come back for more. 
steeling yourself, you use a loop of your hair to drag gojo’s chair toward you — positioning him like a puppet beneath your cold, hard stare. he man spreads on the chair as best as he can in his restraints, leaning back while his seat tilts backwards on a forty-five degree angle — drawing your eyes from his face to his thick thighs momentarily. “you are going to take me to see the lights. it’s a promise, not a threat,” you whisper into the air that buzzes with tension between you both, leaning down and pinning gojo in place. you’re so close, so little proximity between your faces, that you can practically feel his warm breath lingering on the damp skin of your lips. “and i promise, i’ll make this worth your while.” 
your voice lowers an octave, smooth and buttery and just right. like a snare for a wild white rabbit or bait on a hook — it peaks satoru’s interest, illicit thoughts and desires flashing behind his pupils like lightbulb ideas. “oh, honey. i can make you see stars alright,” he looks up at you then, with an expression of heat and thirst, dragging you into a pool of shining blue eyes that you barely manage to free yourself from. drowning in his attention once more. you stand over him proudly, between his legs smugly and all he wants to do is wipe the winning smile from your face and show you a real good time. 
if he could, gojo would reach up and grab at your hips possessively, if he could he’d cup your neck and let his fingers toy with your baby hairs to pull you into a sloppy kiss. he can’t help the way white hot desire spreads through his system like throwing gasoline on an open fire and pile of wood. he grins mischievously, and in response, a brand new sensation stirs within your lower tummy — blistering hot as it zips between your chest and your core.
you sense the change in the atmosphere and gojo does too. both of you dying to scratch the itch on the part of your brain that is the control centre for lust. but you remind yourself what this is truly about, tell yourself not to get lost in the haze of it all, and will yourself to throw a loop of your hair over daring blue eyes like a blindfold — acting fast to secure a seat in an unsuspecting satoru gojo’s vacant lap.
he grunts in surprise, flinches when he realises one out of five of his senses are down. “what the fuck—?” gojo spits, cocky smirk melting away. 
“shhh,” you taunt the man under your breath, leaning forward so that your voice coasts over the shell of his ear like a summery breeze. it invokes a sense of pride within your chest when your hostage tilts his head to follow your voice — his own breathing erratic and increasingly shallow with how he begins to struggle against your restraint on him. “you won’t get a chance to make me see those lights. not if i get you to see them first.” 
in truth, you've got nothing planned. you’ve never been in the same room as a man, let alone pleasure them the way that you’ve read in books you’d borrowed from your mother. 
the reality of the scene before you is daunting, giving up part of your virtue just to prove a point and get to see the floating lights like you’ve always wanted…but at the same time — it’s your one chance at freedom that’s at stake here. “you don’t sound so sure about that, sweetheart,” satoru taunts you with the peaks in his voice coltishly high. he continues to wrestle against the restraints of your hair — he’s strong and with a little more force he could escape but it’s like he senses your hesitancy. 
like he knows for certain you won’t make good on your promise. just like mother. 
that much is evident in the way his smooth, glossy lips tick upwards into an arrogant smirk. 
your determination to prove him wrong grows more and more by the second, so before you succumb to your nerves again, you let your free hand claw with way over gojo’s right shoulder — steadying him, forcing him to sit still as you make a comfortable seat out of his widespread lap. he tenses at first, unable to see you move, but his grin remains, you have no idea if it’s because he’s proud of you or doubting you — but the expression only serves to piss you off even more.
“what’s next, sweetheart?” 
a strangled growl is your only reply, the most menacing sound you can muster as you lift head upwards and his pool of loose silver-moon locks fall out of place. with a shuddering breath and a hold of gojo’s restraints, you press your lips to his in a shaky kiss — still unsure of where your lips go and what to do with your teeth and how to move your tongue. the captive beneath you knows it and takes advantage of your weakness, nipping at the swell of your lower lip gently — hardly enough to draw blood. satoru is testing you, telling you to be brave and take from him. prove to him that you’re willing to do whatever you want for him to make your silly childhood dream come true.
he allows you to fight back, despite this being your idea, lets you forcefully grab his angular jaw and capture him in a proper spit-swapping kiss. if he really wanted to, he’d find a way to escape from the tight bounds of your lengthy hair. but he doesn’t. gojo lets you swallow him down; push your tongue exploratively into his mouth and lap at his foreign flavour. he wants your tongue to take dominance from his, pink appendages sloppily rolling over one another, slipping and sliding as you take and take from satoru.
the kiss, already uncoordinated from your lack of experience, becomes hurried and hungry and wet the more you steal from satoru. you take and take and take until his glass his half full and his brain slowly becomes devoid of all logical thought. he comes the prey to your predatory mouth, missing the way your hand frees his pale cheek and fingers fluidly traverse down his broad shoulders, over his marble sculpted body to find purchase in the belt loops of his bothersome pants. now curious, you feel your way down the front of the fabric and grin into the hot and heavy kiss when satoru’s lets out a breathy, staggered moan into your open mouth. 
his swelling erection twitches in response to your inquisitive hand, slender hips involuntarily jumping upwards.
“fuuuck,” satoru chuckles airily, words featherlight as they breeze along your lips. his head keens upwards too, chasing the weight of your hot sticky tongue in his mouth — desperate to be closer, craving the feeling of your nose knocking against his and your breath on his cheek from just how pressed up against each other you are. “fuck baby that’s it. kiss me more, touch me harder…” he’s addicted before he even knows what you have to offer, what he’s getting himself into. if you could see his eyes from under his binding, you’d bare witness to pleading blue pools swirling with a painful desire as he twitches beneath you, wriggling his wrists to get free. “c’mon, touch me.” he adds between sloppy pecks.
backing your face out of satoru’s reach, you break the drooly lip lock — letting your lungs fill with oxygen it had once missed, while your heaving chest syncs up with the intruder you have strapped  to a chair. you pull away, connected to the man by not just your hair, but a string of saliva glazed across your lips — cautiously, your tongue dart out to break the the between your eager mouths, two sets of uneven panting filling the quiet air. 
the two of you remain unmoving and unwilling to back down while you catch your breath; but your hand remains in the centre of gojo’s lap — rocking it back and forth, back and forth over his growing bulge. you stare at him, observing the reactions that he tries so hard to control. little twitches to his pink swollen lips and the flare of his nostrils whenever your palm makes contact with a sensitive spot. all this waiting is agony, the white haired captive might die if he doesn’t get more from you soon. 
satoru whines impatiently as a result, knowing full well what you want and you won’t ask him again — not when you’re tauntingly squeezing his cock for a second, third, fourth, fifth time. he doesn’t fucking know — overwhelmed by waves of lust-infested blood rushes to its blistering hot tip. “fuck! okay, okay fine. i’ll take you! just—“ the chair rattles from the force of gojo’s struggle against your restraints, which hardly covers the low moan that escapes from between his plush glossy lips while his length pulses against the inside of his pants. “just fuck me. touch me. anything.”
something about his tone being all desperate and high activates a part of you that you never even knew existed. a part of you that knows what to do next… even if you haven’t acted it out, you’ve enough books to remember what the erotic ones say.
only then, after he pleads, do you use your shaky hands to tug down the garment — pulling them towards his knees as best as you can against your hair until the button pops free. the zipper follows easily and the waistband falls away from starlight skin and slender hips. everything gets hotter; any fresh air between your bodies becoming tinged with the need for sex as the scorching ghost of your fingertips leaves burn marks against satoru’s pelvis, and sends heatwaves of ardour from the base of his spine to the top of his skull.
satoru’s squirming pauses while he waits with uneven breathing for your next move — tongue pressing up against the barricade of his white teeth to prevent himself from taunting you further or perhaps to stop himself from belting out another pathetic set of whimpers. he wishes he could see you, those sweet innocent eyes looking down at him as you peel back the last layer of fabric stopping you from accessing his painfully hard erection. his underwear. 
when you gasp in shock, pride weaves itself between the bones that protect his heart and lungs like an uninvited weed, he knows that he’s decent. longer than he is thick, bright red at his mushroomed tip and leaky from just how turned on he is. there’s a trail of silver moon hair that leads you down a path from his belly button to the thickest part of his dick too. but oh, how satoru gojo wishes he could see.. the way you lick your lips as drool drowns your tongue, mouth watering at the sight of his length slapping against his clothed stomach while he manspreads for you. the way your pupils dilate, the colour in your eyes swallowed by a dark veil of carnality. 
this is a hunger you’ve never experienced before, a type of starvation that makes your hand lurch forward before your brain can control it, gripping satoru at the base of his milky, slender shaft. it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a cock; let alone held one between your tiny fingers — it’s much warmer than you anticipated, tacky to the touch from dribbles of precum running down from his untouched tip, but you like it. the weight, the wet sound it makes when you slightly flick your wrist around satoru. not to mention the stuttered groan he lets out, his head falling against the support of the chair and yanking slightly on the blindfold made of hair that covers his eyes.
if you weren’t sitting in his lap, you’d want him in your drooling mouth. you’d sink down to your knees like the girls in your naughty books and take him down your virgin throat, just so you could look up at satoru and watch the sweat bead down his jawline and run a track over his bobbing adam’s apple. but you’re not and you’ve got a point to prove, so you loop your hair around your other wrist to tighten his restraints and extend a thumb upward from his base to his seedy tip, jamming the pad of it through the slit where he pre forms in thick, creamy pearls. as white as those that come from an oyster.
“that’s it gorgeous, just like that…” satoru leers up at you huskily, voice tinged with neediness that he fails to mask. he seems to like the way you touch him and you’re sure to use a delicate hand when you smooth the supple pad of your thumb over the pad of his sensitive tip, rubbing his opaque precum into it sweetly. “touch me s’more? you can do it… i know you’re shy, can hear your breathing ‘n how heavy it is. shit, you’re new at this.” saliva slows down satoru’s salacious words as he rambles to you with swollen lips and rosy cheeks, angling his head in whatever direction your breath seems to be coming from. 
he’s in tatters, destroyed by a few simple touches with his hard on smearing white across the front of his clothes. you roll your palm over his mushroomed cockhead next to test the waters and take pleasure in admiring the way he trembles, grasping at the arms of the chair you have him strapped to in order to ground himself. it’s torture for satoru to be this patient, killing him slowly from the inside out like a virus spreading across his brain and other vital organs — but it doesn’t mean you’re in any better state. practically dripping in his lap with your panties dampening more and more every time satoru so much as whimpers. past the point of being turned on by the sight of a strong, powerful man weak and blindfolded underneath you.
satoru bucks upward at your command, sucking in a breath as his sensitive, seedy slit bumps your palm once more. “s-shit… please.”
the improper ness of the entire situation sends a zap of electricity to your swelling clit. you’ve only ever imagined being with someone like this as you have seeing the floating lights — touching yourself beneath your skirts and under your painted ceilings whenever you were brave enough. now you’re here, spread over the thick thighs of a possible thief who begs you to jerk him off. “s-shut up,” you hiss as embarrassment and  inexperience begins to shine through the deal you’ve struck with gojo, the fact that he can tell as much and still wants this has you soaked all the way through and aching for friction as well. 
you’ve never been in possession of so much power in your life. mother never let you have it. but right now, you can taste it sparking between you and gojo, smell it in the air teeming mixed with a cocktail of your arousals. in the moment you realise that the silver haired man would cling onto every one of your sugar-coated words (no matter how nervous) if it meant he got the fuck he wanted in the end. and you would get to see your lights too.
“just… tell me what to do,” you say without realising how husky your own voice has gotten. “i promised you your crown, to make you feel good if you took me to see the lights. and i never go back on a promise. s-so tell me.” talking yourself into it and building up some more confidence, you circle over satoru’s bulbous cockhead again — gaze laser focused on the burning bright red colour as it oozes. you know that he likes it and it makes his head spin so much that he starts to fight against the restraint of your hair again. “i won’t let you go, not until this is over. so tell me what i can do to make you cum.” 
despite not being able to see his entire face, gojo’s smug smile says it all — his perfect teeth cheerily on display, contrasting with the flustered pink tint to his cheeks. “cup it, make a fist around my cock so you can jerk me off’a little bit,” a haughty moan scratches at the walls of your captive’s throat when you follow his guidance and finally grip him fully, soft and supple hands easily dwarfed by the size of him. satoru’s shaft may be a little thinner, but he’s thick enough to fill your own throat and cause a stretch to your quivering hole with his balls being round, plump and full of white hot seed saved up just for you. “christ, squeeze my base a lil’ before you get movin’,” at first contact, satoru’s thighs tremble deliciously against your mound, blood rushing to your clit and through the forked veins that spiral down his length. 
your senses are overwhelmed, he smells so good — of peppermint and a musky twang of sex act like dangerous smelling salts or fumes. you could get addicted if you weren’t careful. you’re super aware of each ridge and firm vein that decorates him and as you start to palm satoru steadily, you notice just how sticky your hand is — movements guided by the wet cream of his cock. slipping and sliding as your closed fist moves up and down, up and down, occasionally squeezing the base of him just like he asked. your knuckles brushing the soft bush of pubic hair at his pelvis. you can only imagine how everything feels for him, not being able to see at all.
the thought just barely crosses your mind — too focused on speeding up your soiled hand around gojo just to hear more of his angelic gripes and groans that rise and fall from his heaving chest. how good all of this must feel for the man without being able to see. every touch must make him tick and drip and throb achingly. he must feel weak too, completely vulnerable to anything you might do to him while blindfolded and unable to touch you because of bonds formed by your hair. 
once you set a steady rhythm to your closed fist to jerk him off with, gojo takes a breather to announce his next command — head shaking side to side with moonlight locks sticking to his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the inferno of desire spreading through of his limbs. “now spit on it,” he states bluntly, an obvious dip to the octave in his voice. you can’t possibly imagine why he’d need spit; your hand is already glossed with a shiny layer of precum, tainting your knuckles from the viscosity. 
you swallow thickly, but don’t dare stop pleasuring your captive stranger. “w-what?” 
“are you kidding me just—“ leaning forward as best as he can while held back by the strong locks of your hair, like rope around his wrists. dopamine crackles over your brain like fireworks in an enclosed space at the scene that unfolds next, satoru pursing his lips to spit onto his own milky dick — letting the frothy mix from mouth join the mess that lubes the both of you up where connected. “just spit on it, honey. thought you wanted me to feel it.”  
licking your lips, you rub down satoru’s girth far enough to drag the glob of spit down to his tender weighty balls, that pulse at your gentle touch. the feeling makes satoru’s entire body jolt like an electric shock — a gargled groan clambering out from the depths of his panting chest as his jaw goes slack and mouth falls open. “please. please spit on it, honey. god please.. need you to wet my cock. i need it so bad, promise i’ll be fucking good.” blind but with his remaining senses in tact, gojo remains largely vulnerable to your touch, his entire world tilting on one axis when you grip his dick a little harder at his request. causing a ring of white to gather where the circle of your wrist envelopes him.
at his begging. which you swear makes you gush like a small, erotic stream — your juices sloshing about in the gusset of your panties while your sex goes unattended.
so you nod obediently, tilting your head forward and parting your swollen lips to let a thick, syrupy string of your own spit ooze onto his plump and sore balls, stroking him rapidly to spread it over his creamy tip as well. your spit is contrastingly cool in comparison to the natural lubricant smeared all over your captive’s palpitating dick — causing it to grow impossibly harder. it slickens up your hand, evidence of the silver haired man’s arousal seeping through the fabric of his crumpled shirt and coils of your restrictive hair. neither of you can bring yourselves to care in the moment — all you can think to do is relish in gojo’s size.
he’s so big, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered how satoru fit entirely inside your tight hole, stretching you out in the new future — earning yourself a fresh wave of liquid lava hot essence to your ruined panties. you dare to dream onwards, picturing the azure eyed stranger fucking you against the walls of the tower in every way the man knew possible… you have no idea what he’s capable of when untied. but the sight of him lazily thrusting into your filthied fist like it’s instinct, following it like a moth to a candle flame, is enough dream fuel to last you a lifetime. even after the deal is complete and the lights are just a distant memory. 
eventually, you decide to pull off of satoru to give your wrist a break — walking your fingers up the broad expanse of his built chest to tweak his nipples between your tingling bodies. his entire frame is wracked with a case of shivers, mouth parting in a high-pitched, whiny whimper with strings of saliva connecting its roof to his tongue. you’re so pathetically turned on, drool pooling on your tongue like a hot flash flood. 
it’s why you tighten your grip on your hair and thus his restraints, resulting in satoru staggering forward. closer, panting like a damn dog in rut. drawing your free hand up towards your lips and away from his pecs, the proximity between you becomes so little that satoru can practically smell the musky evidence of sex that you lick from your hand. “oh… you taste so good,” you lament in a dulcet tone, failing to miss the way gojo’s dangerous azure eyes dart about beneath his makeshift blindfold, probably dying to see you get a taste of him.
“d-don’t say that, you’ll make me fuckin’ cum, honey.” he gulps, involuntarily pumping his hips into the air, chasing your hand which he needs so desperately to feel good. “please don’t stop.” while begging you — satoru is the perfect picture of a ruined man, though you’re sure he would say the same about you if you hadn’t strapped your hair over his line of vision. his milky skin glistens as though it’s the very source of light for the silvery moon — illuminated by droplets of sweat from the exertion off fucking your fist like a squelching, welcoming pussy. his cheeks glow warmly with a dusty shade of pink and there’s a red ring forming around his lips from where he’s bitten them to control his wails of ecstasy.
succumbing to the obscenity of it all,  you reach forward and lick a stripe into his hellfire hot mouth. effectively sharing the saltine flavour of gojo’s own precum with him while he languidly sucks all the tang from your pink appendage. his angel white lashes flutter shut at the heaviness of your tongue against his own. the kiss is messy and mismatched, saliva seeps from the corners of your mouth and drags a sticky train down your chin. parting briefly, you spit it into the middle of your palm — happily taking satoru’s cock back into your talented hold and providing a solace to soothe its passionate ache. 
“ngh… i can feel you. f-fuck. feel you tryin’ not to grind against me, sweetheart.” somehow, gojo finds pockets of air to taunt you in — his voice an arousing mix of a raspy whine and cocky tone. “so wet, i can smell you too. so sweet. dripping all over your panties while you jerk me off. do you need that needy pussy taken care of?”
everything he’s said is true, while the man with the sweaty silver locks fought to escape the prison of your hair — desperate to see how you pleased him, you fought the growing pit in your stomach. the urge to use satoru for release. you’d never hit your peak with another person before, only your smaller-than-his fingers whenever mother left for more than a day or two. 
you admit to nothing, continuing to stroke satoru to his own high — his panted moans accompanied by the sound of skin slapping skin from your hand fisting him to the high heavens.  “please baby, i wanna help get you off. feel that wet little cunt. let me go, i’ll be so good to you if you let me touch your sweet c—“ 
“n-no! we had a deal. my rules.” you stutter, denying yourself. denying him.
“c’mon sweetheart,” a strained and petulant whine echoes throughout the tower — satoru thrusting shallowly through your closed hand in order to match his rhythm to the flick of your wrist. “please, god, baby. if you won’t let me touch you, or at least see you, then can you put that pretty pussy on my thigh? ride it real good? wanna know how you sound when you’re being pleasured…when you give into it all. please honey, give me somethin’ to work with. anythin’…”
gojo presses, like a disciple begging their god for mercy. begging you for mercy. there’s never been this much power in your reach, the ability to control a man who could easily over power you with your sex makes your mind feel egotistically weighty. your resolve crumbles just a tad, satoru’s neediness  chipping away at its foundation until your hips instinctively position themselves perfectly over the swell of his right thigh. how bad could it be? giving him an inch when you’ve taken a mile from him. mother says you’ve never been good at lying and right now, you can no longer pretend like your hips aren’t dying to slide back and forth over your capture like a desperate whore. 
like you don’t want to use him for more than just the floating lights, but to soothe the fire lit in your lower stomach — trailblazing down to your throbbing clit.
something clicks in your mind, all of your inhibitions are dashed from the tower as you briefly release satoru’s pathetically wet cock and restraints to pull up the skirts of your silk purple dress, exposing a slither of supple fat at your thighs. hurried movements deliver the same treatment to satoru’s pants. “this… this doesn’t change anything. doesn’t mean i’m letting you go just yet. it won’t affect our deal.” you warn the intruder but all sense of venom and authority is lost, evaporating into the temperate air and ending up as a piteous, meek mewl when your exposed mound makes first contact with man’s naked thigh.
if the sound of ruffling fabric hadn’t caught your hostage’s attention; the heat of your sopping sex against his moonlit skin definitely did. “fuck…that’s it. there we go, honey. put it on me,” a tinge of amusement lays evident in his gravelly voice, sets of slender digits peeking out of their hairy restraints to map out your doughy thighs and crawl their way up to the source of your essence. “i just knew you were wet for me, can feel how turned on you are.” as best as he can, gojo shifts until his knee is able to bump your clit — cooing in satisfaction when you ooze against him in response. you almost despise the way he laughs up at you condescendingly, as if he’s the one in control irregardless or the fact that you’re on top. 
maybe it’s the dopamine rush that makes your dynamic unclear — neither of you wanting to give up or take the lead. the lust fizzing in the cracks and crevices of your brain make you cute and pliant for gojo but hair woven over his body keeps him subdued and thirsty for you. 
like a gravitational pull, you buck downwards on the silver haired stranger’s toned thigh and smear the beginnings of your arousal all over him. you’ve barely been touched, oozing in viscous waves as you lose control over your body, rutting harder and faster. “watch your mouth.” you cry out, volume barely above a whisper, bottom lip trembling because it feels so good to use someone this way. 
resuming your hold on his dripping cock again as you rock your hips — you rearrange the loop of hair keeping gojo in place, covering his eyes just as your hair begins  to glow gold in time with your symphony of moans. “right, right, sorry. this doesn’t change things,” he flexes his thigh underneath your syrupy sex, strawberry tongue slipping out to wet his lips while your words fade away into a pretty little sigh. “but you wanna smack that messy clit all over my thigh, don’cha wanna make it creamy… even messier?” satoru all but jeers, the wisps of a smirk rising on the horizon of his lips now that your hips have formed their own rhythm over his leg.
they speed up their passionate dance on him, beads of glistening essence pearling between your two fat pussy lips. the slick smack of your naked cunt against his muscular thigh caused his dick to twitch in your hand — gojo thrusting up when you thrust down. he tilts his head down, catching a whiff of your heavenly scent in the air between you both. you hate that he’s right just as much as he hates not being able to see you and touch you properly — only catching glimpses of the golden light sparkling within your hair like a halo from underneath his makeshift blindfold.
you feel like you might be going insane, trapped underneath a non existent touch. like being pulled under waves of euphoria with aching lungs that don’t get enough air. near angelic screams of delight rip through the base of your throat contrast with the way you sinfully hump satoru and jerk him off to the point of his dick forming a creaminess in your hand. he bounces his thigh faster the higher you moan, rewarding you for all the hard work you put in to make this deal worth it.
“you’re no better… you’re filthy,” 
“that’s right honey, so dirty. all cause of you. messy with you, why won’t you let me see?”  the captive rambles, torn between fighting to break out of the bondage and listening to the lewd sticky noises your mound makes when gliding smoothly over his paled skin. satoru growls at how roughly your body moves above his own, face contorting lecherously, cheeks red and lips puffy — a mess from how long he’s been holding out for you. he’s a mess. it’s true. he won’t even deny it. “now fuckin’ stroke it baby, stroke me to the rhythm of your pussy bouncing up and down for me…please…” 
simpering slightly, gojo’s fingers twitch against the arm of the chair — itching to grab at your ass and slam you down against his shaky thigh. if you palm him more, grip him tighter… he can better imagine the warmth of your cunt if he got the chance to slip inside. for now, you oblige his request, pulling tighter on the bindings of your hair while you them use as leverage — throwing yourself down on satoru as the lewd pap of your drooling pussy fills the musky tower air. “that’s it honey, up ‘n down. uppp ‘n  down. keep goin’ just like that.” 
you don’t have the energy to chide him, jostling about in satoru’s lap with wet whimpers bubbling up on the seams of your lips. pleasure begins to twist nice and tightly in your tummy, scalding you from the inside out and burning any logical thought from your brain. head beginning to roll to the side, you think about fully submitting to your capture. letting go entirely — you’d be satisfied. you’d get to cum. your deal might fall through but at least you’d get to see a different kind of light. 
easily, you could just give up. it wouldn’t be hard to, not  when gojo firmly plants his feet into the tiled floor and the power from his hips has hip rutting upwards to chase your fleshlight-like fist. a beefy cry battles its way out of his broad chest, vibrating through you as his quivering thigh juts your pretty, syrupy cunt every time you lift off of him. 
it’s the perfect cycle; the ideal push and pull. you squeal in ecstasy, the hood of your clit dragged back so that your sensitive bundle of nerves is exposed to the blistering heat of satoru’s cool toned skin — taking you closer and closer to your high. streaks of your hair glow brighter than before, more intensely the louder you moan and just like they would if you were singing to help mother or while she brushed your hair. despite the strength in the light of your hair, everything else about you weakens, your grip on your hair, the pace of your hand as you palm satoru to the high heavens. you can’t think to care about any of it when you’re this close. 
if mother could see you now, you don’t think you’d mind if she was disappointed in you. 
but then you’re ripped away from the edge of cloud nine. satoru stops just short of the dam threatening to break. his thigh completely still with your juices splattering against him once your own hips come to a hault. a petulant howl echoes through the flower, frustrated tears stinging in your waterline as you feel your orgasm slip away from you cruelly. “what the fuck satoru?” 
“sorry honey….” he laughs heartily, a slight rasp coating each syllable from each word that leaves his mouth. “don’t think i like this deal very much. just ‘cause you feel good doesn’t mean you can forget about me,” gesturing to the way you gush on and stain his thigh, the captive with the silver moon hair shrugs. “you don’t get to cum or see the lights unless i get to see you.”
gojo’s been good so far, hardly challenging you this whole time and instead, goading you into a world of pleasure you would have never experienced under mother’s watchful eye. instead, he was content to have his cock touched and his name wailed a hundred different ways — he’d shown no indication of breaking your deal aside from this. so in turn, you halfheartedly let go of the loop of hair that kept his sapphire stained eyes away from the world and held his wrists down to the arms of his chair.  the restraints loosen just enough to please him and do what he needs to do. not enough to give him complete freedom. 
“fuck the deal.” you cast it all to the side, relentlessly resuming grinding all over gojo — pushing your hips back as far as his knee to smother your swollen pleasure against it.
this time, satoru is able witness the way your bambi doe eyes roll back into your emptying skull. 
with newfound motivation, the intruder begins quickly blinking away any darkness that caused a fuzz at the edge of his vision, gojo’s gaze immediately trickles down to your clenching hole, a treasure kept safe between your nectar glossed thighs; watching you ride him. “god, if i had my hands on you i’d rub that clit until you were squirting… i bet you’d like that, if i ruined that pussy. made her mine — you'd like that.” gojo’s stare returns to your eyes, flashing you his pearly whites through a condescending smile. his rushed and rambled teasing words make your creamy cunt wetter; body betraying you to violently shake above him. 
though you find strength to keep up your end of the bargain. you’d sworn to make satoru see stars, encapsulating his rigid, sloppy dick between your nimble fingers once more. you even spit on it, earning a haughty bleat from between the man’s pretty (yet chatty) mouth. his sturdy body seizes underneath your touch as you take a firmer grip on him, palming him faster and faster — seedy, hot precum webbing over your knuckles once more. that’s when you finally get to see it. how murky and dark your captive’s vibrant eyes grow, like a pond, swimming with desire for you and only you.
the rapture that had once melted away from you like butter in a pan begins to blossom within you once again — willing you to beg for a chance at a real orgasm. “yes satoru! oh, yes please!” you squeak, short of breath and not entirely sure or what you’re even begging for. the golden light emitting from strands of your hair flare up again and your pussy throbs with an aching need to hit release. “please…”
a self congratulatory thread of cobalt lust weaves its way between the darkening midnight flecks in this eyes. “now look who’s begging,” clicking his tongue, gojo cocks his head to the side, relishing in his ability to finally look at you. drink in the way your chest bounces beneath the bodice of your lace orchid gown. it’s completely fucked, darkened by a crude mix of your arousals but it’s the most beautiful thing satoru has ever seen — only serving to rial him up even more… his own orgasm coming up over the hill. it burns at his internal organs, the lining of his stomach and the only way to alleviate this almost painful yet delectable twinge to his system is through you. “bet you’re only being nice ‘cause you’re close. well guess what? me too, be a good girl, honey, and cum for me.” he says, voice rising in both pitch and breathiness through his gritted teeth. 
he’s going to cum. 
and you’re too far gone to form a response with words just yet. you stop your own ministrations, payback for edging you earlier. his own cock dribbles pitifully as you rip his high away from him like pulling a rug from beneath his feet. gojo thrashes in his hair in response, azure eyes wild and almost wet with a sheen of tears — just as desperate to cum ad you are. “wh-what the fuck was that for?” he winges as though he’s a child on punishment, slender hips rising up to chase your soiled hand and perfect grip — shaft standing needily at attention. “honey…”
“you don’t get to cum until i get to cum. so either you work with me, satoru, or we’ll go all day.” you snap, slowly working your drenched cunt over the meat of his thigh once again, your puffy folds spread either side of it — squelching with the way you salaciously wind your hips all over him. 
satoru basks in the sight, tongue poking out tauntingly between his teeth as he decides to test the waters. “fine, but at least let me help,” he suggests, watching eagerly as you throw your head back in the purest form of pleasure and grind on him harder. it’s clear as day that you need just as much of a push to cum as he does and he plans on giving it to you in just one condition. “untie me.”
“deal.” chewing on your lower lip, you let more of your hair unwind your glowing hair from all points that keep gojo strapped to the chair. enough for more of his hands to escape. then, he’s on you within a flash, hot tongue swirling its way over your clothed bosom and biting at your peaked nipples while his hands shoot to the globes of your ass so that he can drag you in harsh circles across his lap. he’s ravenous, out of control, as if he’s been waiting for this moment the entire time. 
somewhere along the way, in one final burst of passion, your mouths find each other again — swapping streams of saliva as you lose yourselves to sex crazed minds teaming with lust hormones. with your lips smacking and bodies moving against each other in a delicious bump and grind — satoru forces a large hand between you both, fumbling against your cotton panties. the sound he lets out when he finally, finally gets his hands on your puffy clit is glutoral and animalistic, the simple touch sending a shock wave of electricity across every one of your synapses. dazing you for good. 
you bear witness to the silver haired stranger losing his mind, falling from grace like an angel with blackened wings. and for you, he does the same, commiting the sight of your glowing halo-like strands of hair to memory — the coils that shine brighter the more you sing and sin for him.
he can’t stop gabbling, gargling on the spit you pour into one another — followed by howls and screams of pleasure. “oh you like that, hm? i bet that feels so good… so sweet ‘n wet under my touch.” hot fingers belonging to satoru pick up the pace between your sticky folds, flicking your clit feverishly and writing his claim against your cunt at the same time that you jam a thumb into the tricking slit of his dirty red cockhead. the pair of you jolt in one another’s arms, taking one too many steps towards the edge of cloud nine before you’re even ready for you.  
“oh sweetheart, listen to you, sound so good. wish i could have you on my fat cock instead of my thigh. next time yeah? you’re gonna cum like this, aren’t you? gonna get my thigh nice and wet?” gojo growls, voice hoarse and layering perfectly over your whistle tone whines. his digits slow and start their greedy assault on your sex, edging you further and further as you wriggle and writhe at his words. 
the world escapes you, the knot of lust that had been warping within you finally coming undone. “gods… s-satoru! please!” you shriek as though your voice is a  gust of stormy wind — reverberating off of painted cobblestone walls. your free hand (no longer trapped by loops of your own hair) darts out to grab the intruder’s wrist, thighs locking around the hand that works you through an earth shattering high. the dam finally bursts, forcing open floodgates as your pussy releases streams of clear arousal in small spurts that soaks his entire lap and clothes.
gojo has no idea where to look, the smallest glimpse of your orgasm sending him hurtling over the edge as well — he doesn’t relent, viciously circling your precious pleasure mug and drawing out your release to match his own. his thick length spasms in your tiny hand, plump balls no longer able to contain the viscous, hot seed he has saved up all for you. just for you. he cums with a shout, abdomen contracting under your never-ending supple touch, ropes of white hot endlessly shoot from his overstimulated tip almost as though he’s a faucet that’s never been turned off.
he swears he almost blacks out, a white and sweaty mop of hair collapsing onto your shoulder as you slump in gojo’s lap — exhausted. as the air in the room cools, your hair no longer glowing and your chests syncing up to heave in an even rise and fall — you bring a lazy hand to the back of satoru’s head, toying with coils of his baby hair to help you both calm down.
a moment of quiet passes before you find the energy to whisper. “will you take me to see those floating lights now?” 
your innocent question causes satoru to snort sleepily, pressing a wet chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek as the sound breaks free from his cherry-bitten lips. “a deal’s a deal, honey. as soon as you untie me… we’ll hit the road.” 
neither of you move a muscle, however, still recovering from the sinful act you had just shared. 
you use the time to reflect, a sense of excitement dawning on you. you were going to leave the tower. you were going to see the floating lights on your birthday. and most importantly, you were directly disobeying your mother to prove your capableness. and all you had to do to get your fairytale happy ending was give a handjob to a very handsome, very willing stranger. 
the end.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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sanemistar · 29 days ago
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DANGEROUS MAN
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contents ★ clan leader!gojo x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fluff, suggestive (17+), making out, slight mention of biting/marking, reader gets called princess, 1.6k+ wc. ノ requested for my milestone event.
event m.list ★ jjk m.list
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your parents had warned you several times about satoru gojo, the leader of the gojo clan. one of the strongest clans to exist, along with your own clan. they had forbidden you from speaking him, let alone being in the same room as him. due to the long history and the rivalry between your clan and the gojos, your clans had considered each other enemies for as long as one could remember. you had been familiar with their warnings like the back of your hand, and you had abided by them for so long. though you personally had no ill intentions towards him, nor even understood the hatred against the gojos.
that was, until you had met him in person at one of those boring higher up gatherings that you were forced to attend when you two coincidently went outside to get a breath of fresh air, away from all the tension and awkwardness inside.
the first thought that had come across your mind when you first saw satoru was that he was charming, like one of those charming princes you read about in fairy tales. you’d seen him in pictures before, but never this close. truth be told, pictures could’ve never fully captured how ethereal he looked in real life. you’d never seen anyone like him before, and you probably never would. he was simply out of this world, like a work of art—a one in a million man. enchanted by his beauty, you couldn’t help but stare at him in admiration. your eyes never dared to look away from him, as if they were glued onto him.
“well well. if it isn’t you, the princess from that clan.” satoru’s voice pierced through your ears, waking you up from your dazed state. “you’ve been staring at me for so long, like i’m a statue in a museum or something.” you were unaware of how long you’d been staring at satoru until you saw the confusion on his face as he pointed out. you felt your face redden in embarrassment and you immediately looked down in an attempt to hide your flushed face.
“s-sorry about that, gojo-san. i didn’t mean to do that, i just…” you trailed off mid sentence, unsure of what to say in order to justify your actions earlier. your head was in and your thoughts were all over the place.
you heard a pair of footsteps coming closer to you and before you was none other than satoru. the one man you shouldn’t be standing so close to. your mind was telling you to run away and leave, but your body refused to move an inch. his thumb quickly glazed over your chin, swiftly lifting it up and your eyes got caught in his alluring gaze like a mouse in a cheese trap that was unable to escape before he let go of your chin. you could swear that the spot where he touched you earlier was tingling, as if his touch was electric.
“oh c’mon, no need for these formalities. they mean nothing to me. my name is satoru, so just call me satoru.” he spoke and you were slightly taken aback, you two had just met and he already wanted you to act on a first name basis.
“but..” he cut you mid sentence.
“no buts, it’s pretty easy. just repeat after me, satoru.” he said his name again slowly, waiting for you to say it back. he was pretty insistent on it so it looked like you had no choice.
“satoru.” his name finally rolled off your tongue, and a proud smirk made its way onto his face upon hearing you say his name. the way it came off your lips got him a little excited.
just then an idea popped up in satoru’s head, a reckless one at that.
“why don’t we go somewhere else where it’s just us two? away from all this.” he grabbed your hand gently yet firmly, like he had no intention of leaving you alone.
you knew best that it was never good ignoring what your parents had told you and involving yourself with him. but at that moment, you agreed to go with him. completely forgetting about everything, the rivalry, the hatred, everything. you weren’t sure if that was a rebellion phase or what, all you knew was that it felt right leaving with him.
satoru seemed surprised for a moment by how quickly you agreed to follow him, but grinned and took your hand before dragging the two of you away as you disappeared from the main entrance and into a quieter place where it was just you and him.
you had no idea how you ended up being pinned against the wall with satoru’s tall, lean figure hovering over you. completely blocking your view and blocking you from sight.
“why did you follow me so easily, hm? what if i had a malicious intention of some sort. didn’t your parents warn you about how dangerous the gojos were? especially their leader.” your chest moved up and down as your heart began racing rapidly.
“if you had any malicious intentions like you said, you would’ve taken me somewhere outside the territory. but since we didn’t really go that far away, it’d be useless for you to be doing anything dangerous here.” you began explaining. and satoru seemed so impressed by your smart response.
“you’re indeed very amusing.” he chuckled softly. he rested his hands on the wall, forcing you to look at nothing else around but him.
tension between the two of you began rising, and you found yourself subconsciously looking at his lips.
and satoru was so quick to notice how you were eyeing his lips for a while now.
“you could’ve simply asked me for a kiss if you want it so badly instead of just staring at my lips, princess.” he leaned in as he whispered into your ear and you could feel it heat up a bit in embarrassment.
and before you could get the chance to say anything you felt satoru’s lips smacking onto yours. you gasped into the kiss in surprise, your mind screamed at you to break away and push him off of you. but this time not only your body, but also your heart, refused to. you wrapped your arms around his neck, getting in the mood as you pulled him even closer to you. your fingers ran through the back of his soft hair.
meanwhile, satoru’s hands delicately trailed all over your back, slowly exploring every part and every bit of your skin. he was taking his sweet time touching you all while having your lips against his own, tongue exploring every corner of your mouth.
as the two of you further got in the mood, your kisses had become sloppier and hungrier. teeth clashing against each other as tongues swirled around one another in sync. what started off as a soft, gentle kiss had become a series of deep, passionate kisses that held so much lust and desire in them.
you felt so good that you could almost see stars.
“mhmm..” careful not to make any loud noises in order to avoid getting caught by anyone, you hummed against his lips. and you never knew you had the ability to hum like that ever so sweetly.
you couldn’t believe that you were doing such things with the one man you were never supposed to be doing all of that with.
satoru gojo was indeed dangerous, he was too dangerous for your heart.
the two of you had been making out for almost ten minutes straight. if it wasn’t for your desperate need for air to breathe, you wouldn’t have broken away. but due to the lack of oxygen, you had to break away from the kiss and catch your breath. eyes were only half open, your head was still light and dizzy after that makeout session as you were heavily panting, your lips which were now swollen were still slightly parted as a small trail of drool trickled down your chin.
“you look so beautiful right now, i think i’m in love.” satoru glazed his thumb over the corner of your lips, wiping the drool off. he leaned in once more and began nibbling on the crook of your slender neck and you winced a little as you felt him biting a bit too hard which would have probably left a mark that you would have to hide.
“maybe we should leave all this behind and run away together. it’s a great idea, don’t you think?” he suggested as he looked up at you, his blue eyes glowed slightly in the dark.
you suddenly came back to your senses upon hearing the words he said and slightly pushed him off of you.
“satoru we..” you began speaking, trying to form a coherent sentence. “we can’t do that. we’re supposed to be enemies, remember?” it was more of a reminder to yourself than it was to him that you and satoru would never be anything more than enemies.
“but enemies don’t kiss each other like that.” he whispered as he continued kissing your neck and up to your cheeks, then your nose, then back to your lips. he gave you quick, light pecks before pulling away.
“guess i’ll have to talk to those annoying higher ups of ours and end that nonsense rivalry, cause no way i’m gonna let you be with anyone else that’s not me.”
and the next thing you knew, you were being dragged by satoru into the main hall where all the higher ups were as both of you made a dramatic entrance when he announced that he’d be marrying you before kissing you in front of all of them. leaving everyone in the room, you included, in great shock.
satoru gojo was a dangerous, very dangerous man.
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𝜗𝜚 taglist: @unriding @lxnarphase @sylusdoll @itachiiwrites @itoshivy @17020 @creamflix @luv-lies
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dilftaroooo · 1 year ago
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Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).
☆word count: 6.3k+
★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.
☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.
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You’re not a kink shamer.
You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 
Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.
‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?
You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.
You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).
You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.
Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.
He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.
Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.
He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.
It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?
The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.
You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.
None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.
But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.
Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.
He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.
That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.
After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.
That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.
You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.
You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.
Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.
He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).
But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.
In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,
“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.
It grossed you the fuck out.
Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.
You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?
Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.
But you’re not a kink shamer…right?
Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 
“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.
He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.
“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.
Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.
You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.
“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 
As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.
“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”
He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 
“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.
“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.
He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 
What–?
“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.
Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-
You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.
“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”
Oh.
Oh God.
Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…
“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.
“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.
You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.
“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”
A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.
Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.
But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.
You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?
“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.
“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”
He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-
“You’re sick, you know that?”
“Then you’re my antidote.”
You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 
You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?
Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.
“And why is that?” He inquires.
Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-
“...I’m?” He continues.
You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.
“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.
“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?
“You fingering my, my,”
“You got it, keep going.”
“...fingering my p-pussy.”
Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 
Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.
“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 
Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.
“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”
As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!
“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”
The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.
He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 
Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.
You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.
So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.
He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.
“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.
You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.
“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.
He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-
“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.
“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.
“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!
“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!
“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.
Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).
“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.
“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.
You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.
He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.
“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.
“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”
As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.
“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.
“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”
You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”
“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 
He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.
His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.
You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.
“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  
You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.
The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.
It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.
“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.
The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.
But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.
“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.
“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.
“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.
“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.
“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-
“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 
“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.
“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”
Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.
“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.
“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.
“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”
“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.
“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”
“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”
With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).
He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”
And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.
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giamee · 5 months ago
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🧩 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔!
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STARRING. ノ geto ✦ gojo ✦ choso
summary. ノ as a princess, you need a knight to keep both your body and heart safe from harm. luckily, he's got that covered.
word count. ノ 6.6k
contains. ノ royalty!au, princess!reader x knight, some suggestive content but nothing explicit, fem coded reader bc princess
gia's notes. ノ this draft has been sitting at the VERY bottom of my notes but i've finally dug it up and blown the dust off of it hehe. i have more ideas for this premise so if anyone asks i'll do a part two. eagerly.
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GETO SUGURU ⌇ despite his politeness, there's more to him that lies below the surface
when you first met geto suguru, the most prominent thought in your mind was just how surprisingly pretty he was to be a mere knight. his delicate features and unblemished face seemed more fitting to be that of a nobleman's, and when he kneeled to you to swear his loyalty, his every movement was dictated with a gracefulness that suggested he was born royal.
always smiling, always alert, always vigilant, geto now accompanied you in your daily life like a second shadow. and while there had been... admittedly few attempts on your life, you chalked that up to his talent rather than a lack of conspiracy.
you had asked him one night when you had sneaked too much drink during a feast and you were too loose-lipped on your way back to your chambers, why his face was so handsome if he was just a knight.
he had merely laughed at your drunken question, readjusting his grip on you as he half-carried, half-guided you back.
"i'm handsome because nobody's been able to lay a finger on me."
you were quite fond of him, beyond his ability to keep you safe. you may be naive but you weren't stupid- you knew how others looked at the pair of you, how scandalous it was for the princess and her handsome knight to be so close with each other, in public at that.
it was incredibly apparent at balls and other royal events- ever so cumbersome, but still a requirement- that you always made sure to drag geto along to, no matter the security detail. and if you had personally ensured that he wears clothing befitting of a royal, and more importantly matched your gown every time, who wouldn't jump to conclusions?
in all honesty, you liked the attention it drew to the pair of you. you revelled in the glances shot your way, zeroed in on your hand looped around his arm or the way his encircled your waist, looking more like a courtier than a bodyguard.
you liked how the other women of the court looked at you with not just disgust, but with jealousy, because you knew that they certainly knew that geto suguru is a very handsome man. and no matter how much they stare, the fact that he was firmly attached to you would never change.
and if they hated you, let them come. geto would keep you safe, anyway.
whilst you were more than happy to live life as you were (the same as always with no real responsibility), the world continued its course, and you found yourself being suddenly thrust into something that you never imagined would happen this soon- a removal of your freedom.
that wasn't its official title, of course. a marriage proposal is what it had been presented to you as. to some poncey prince from a neighbouring kingdom in the name of keeping peace and good relations with neighbours- it was enough to make you feel sick.
you remembered ranting about it to geto that night in your bedchambers- yes, he was in them whether it was permissible or not- him merely chuckling at your rage while leaning against one of the walls, watching as you paced the room, waving your arms fervently to accentuate your frustration.
"relax, your highness. you'll still have me, after all." his words have an effect on you, admittedly, and it's comforting to find some constancy in him.
on nights where you let your imagination take over, it's quite easy to imagine him as a prince, one who courts you and you fall for and eventually marry- a mere fantasy to escape from this world.
despite your wishes, despite the rumours, the royal engagement continues. you haven't even met your fiancé, yet the marriage is due to happen this spring- symbolising the fresh beginnings of this joyous union.
geto had been gracious enough to accompany you on your newly-developed habit of taking long walks around the castle in favour of sleeping. you might as well memorise every nook and cranny before you'd be forced out of here- kicking and screaming, no doubt.
despite geto's best efforts, the joy you once found from life in the castle was quickly draining, merely fluff to pad the days leading up to the inevitable date.
an arrangement to meet this prince in person was very quickly procured out of nowhere- you couldn't remember his name for the life of you- and you found yourself going through the motions of being even more dolled up for a special ball with little to no enthusiasm. there was once a time where you would be bursting with delight at the beauty looking back at you in the mirror, though now it felt like you were being trussed up in the same sense the cooks were preparing the roasted animals on golden platters for everyone to feast on.
you were just meant to look as appetising as possible. you felt like a prize cow. anything in the name of peace.
you heard someone clear their throat from behind you- your eyes flicked up to your mirror to see geto stood behind you, his gaze particularly soft. you smiled at his outfit, equally exquisite in its brocade and material as yours. a perfect pair.
"i know i say this every time i see you, but you look especially radiant tonight, your highness." and just like that, you're glad to be so dressed up.
"thank you, sir geto." his lips twitch at the official title, but he extends his arm out for you to take nonetheless. "you look very handsome yourself." his cheeks go a shade darker, barely noticeable. you see it, though.
"how could i manage without you?"
the ballroom was decorated even more lavishly in commemoration of tonight- a decadent gold being the setting for this glorious occasion. you hoped that the prince would live up to the grandeur. or at the very least, not be completely hideous to look at. he'd never look as good as geto.
there were a lot of formal introductions. you always had hated curtsying, but the practice you were forced to endure paid off- you were nothing less than perfectly gracious as you met the officials of the neighbouring kingdom, and then, finally, the prince. he winked at you before kissing your hand and asking you to dance. you would rather dance with someone else.
at least the prince wasn't ugly. with the way he looked at you, though, you had to try not to let your nose wrinkle in disgust as you read the lechery in his eyes. was this really who you would be bound to 'til death do you part?
he stank of wine as the two of you danced. you were surprised that he wasn't toppling over, with the way that his words were already slurring. you tried your best to smile and nod along, though you couldn't help your eyes from wandering over his shoulder, settling on the figure of geto stood on the edge of the dancefloor.
you longed for him to be the one before you, and judging by the look on his face, it's what he would have wanted too. even jealousy looked good on him, his narrowed eyes and set jaw infinitely more handsome than the prince's leering one that you barely avoided as he lurched towards you, a little too close for this courtly dance.
geto jerked forwards at this, hands automatically settling on his sword. his eyes met yours, a silent plea to let it go exchanged before he begrudgingly relinquished his defensive stance. his little action still sent a thrill running through you nonetheless, something to cling to as an affirmation that he cared in more than a professional sense.
you let your thoughts wander as you danced, and you didn't do much to try and reel them back in. would it really be so bad to become wedded to a knight? it was unheard of, but there was a first time for everything, you supposed. you wouldn't mind no longer being a princess, as long as you were with him.
that realisation snapped you back to reality, just as the ending notes of the song played. your mandatory dance was over, and you curtsied to the prince before excusing yourself, weaving your way through the crowd of nobles until you reached the outskirts of the ballroom. your whole world felt like it had been tipped on its axis with this revelation, and even then you couldn't help but seek him out.
it was like an invisible force drew you together as you all but crashed into geto, him steadying you and immediately taking in the no doubt frenzied look in your eyes.
"are you alright, your highness?"
"i'm alright, just need to get some air."
geto nods dutifully, keeping hold of one of your arms as he navigates the crowd, slipping the both of you out of a side exit, the noise of the ballroom immediately drowning out as the door shut behind you.
"is that better, your highness?" your heart warmed at the genuine concern written over his face, and you nodded gratefully.
"much better."
the pair of you walk in silence for a few minutes, retracing the same routes of the castle that you had both become so accustomed to recently. it was comfortable to be with him, no matter the occasion.
"you know, i wish i could dance with you." it wasn't quite a confession, but it would do for now. geto paused for a second, and you saw him turn to look at you in the corner of your eye.
"there may be no music playing right now, but it would be an honour to have this dance, your highness." he bows down low, a mockery of etiquette, and you giggle before slipping your hand into his outstretched one. he's smiling as he straightens back up, his other hand curling around your waist with a gracefulness that would put the entire royal court to shame.
the dimly lit corridors became your private ballroom, and geto led you down them nimbly. another giddy laugh escaped you as he raised his arm, letting you twirl freely before bringing you close to him again.
it's a back and forth that you enjoy being led through, wondering to yourself just where he learnt to dance like this but not finding the heart to complain about it. it was a sweet moment amidst the growing realisation that this would most likely be ripped from you as you are forced to move to a different kingdom, away from everything that you've ever known. well, almost everything.
one particular turn has you stumbling ever so slightly, the questionable gap left between you and geto fully closing as your head collides with his chest. his arms instinctively protect you, effectively encasing you against him, leaving you to merely stare up at his face with a dumbfounded look on your face.
"your highness?"
he looked so much more handsome up close, and the torchlight cast shadows that only accentuated his features. you could count his eyelashes from here, feel the slight rise and fall of his chest against your own as you both leaned in ever so slightly- just a few more inches and your faces would be-
a noise from the end of the hallway distracts you, and your focus slips from the man before you to whatever lay behind him
you're horrified by what you see before you. it's that very prince, your fiancé, nestled in one of the darker corners castle, and he wasn't alone. your brain took a little longer to comprehend what was happening, but with the way the woman he was with was pressed up against the wall, caged in by his arms, and the little moans that echoed against the stony walls, it didn't take a genius to figure it out.
"let's go." you sounded so robotic, a ringing in your ears making your voice sound a thousand miles away as you began to retrace your steps, taking you further away from the transgression you just saw. you were vaguely aware of geto talking to you, but your thoughts were too overpowering to properly process anything other than the rising tide of emotion quickly consuming you.
you could barely turn the next corner before you felt yourself start to break down, tears that you fought so hard to contain tracking down your face. even with your back to him, geto read you like a book, placing a hand on your shoulder in some sort of attempt to comfort you.
you took it as an invitation to turn around, burying your face in his chest and letting yourself properly cry as his arms wrapped around you, one rubbing circles on your back and the other petting your hair.
"i wish you were a prince, geto," you sobbed into his tunic. your knight merely chuckled, continuing to stroke your hair as he let you stain the expensive clothing with your tears.
"i do too, your highness." his tone is light, but you still detect the underlying sincerity. it doesn't do much to stop your tears, though, until you feel one of his hands cup your face. these hold more evidence of him being a knight, with rough callouses marring his otherwise flawless hands. his fingers brush back the strands of hair that have come loose from your elegant updo, lingering a moment too long.
"besides, why cry, your highness? you and i both know that your heart does not belong to him." his hand's still on your face, fingers now hooking underneath your chin, raising your gaze to meet his. his smile's coy, and you both can read between the lines of what he's saying. it had been rather obvious for a while now.
that your heart lay a lot closer to home. that maybe the rumours were right.
"you'll always have me."
GOJO SATORU ⌇ he's two whole years younger than you
officially, the title of royal knight carries a certain air of poise, of authority and grace that forces your spine a little straighter whenever you cross paths with them. but never did you think that this man would be the one entrusted with your life and safety in general.
you were more mature than him, and that's saying something. and despite his insistence on being one of the strongest, in your eyes he certainly didn't act like it. but if he was appointed as your personal bodyguard, then that must mean that he did something worthy enough to fulfil the role, right?
despite your slight doubts, you didn't actually have anything against him. on the contrary, you rather enjoyed his presence. he wasn't afraid to make himself known, and you much preferred the thought of him as an animate person than some silent looming shadow that mirrored your every step.
besides, he wasn't half bad to look at.
you especially liked it when he was in the mood to humour you and your questions, opening up a little about his life before becoming a knight- of the small village he used to live in, the beauty of life beyond the castle walls, and his stories intrigued you, invoking a childlike wonder that hadn't been piqued in years.
satoru had told you of one particular festival- a lantern ceremony to celebrate a bountiful autumn's harvest. it was one you had heard of, had seen always from a distance, the faint lights of hundreds of paper lanterns floating into the sky mere pinpricks that blend into the stars from your vantage point of the castle window.
he has a knack for storytelling, too- for better or worse. he spins gold with his tongue, painting a picture so lovely and vibrant that you are compelled to see it in person- whether it is as wondrous as the knight claims it to be.
and gojo has always been up for a challenge.
"satoru."
"princess y/n." he's amused, already knowing what your proposition will be before you utter another word.
"how good are you at keeping me safe?"
"incredibly, why?"
"i'd like you to take me to see this festival in person."
he had to decline at first- he had a duty to fulfil, after all- but you demand, you implore, you even beg in order to get him on board.
he was willing to do so the very first time you mention it, the gleam in his eye giving his true intentions away, but he plays along, getting a kick out of the desperation in your voice. you whine about how you are the princess and it's his job to do what you ask- and he laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat with an obliging "as you wish, your highness."
and thus begins your daring expedition to sneak out of the castle and back in completely undetected.
it's an operation carried out under the guise of night, the pair of you in cloaks and dressed inconspicuously. it's a simple plan, too. the gardens below your bedchamber's window is not a commonly patrolled area, and it's laughably easy for gojo to slip out of the window first and jump down the few metres until he lands on grass. he lands like it's nothing, smiling back up at you and motioning for you to join him.
it's a leap of faith, the crossing of a boundary as you swing your leg over the windowsill, feeling the fear kick in as you see just how high up you are. but you see gojo, too, his bright hair and eyes looking up at you encouragingly, and you swallow that fear.
"i'll catch you," he promises.
and he does. it's a soft landing, all things considered, as you land in his arms that are deceptively solid beneath you. you yelp as you fall- it couldn't be helped- but it's short-lived as you find yourself face to face with satoru.
he seems as equally stunned as you at the proximity of your faces, but the moment passes quickly for him, his signature practised grin coming back on to his face as he gently touches your feet to the ground.
"good to go, princess?" you nod, still reeling. he offers you an arm, half-joking, and you take it with a pleased smile.
gojo knows the castle grounds like the back of his hand- leading you to a concealed door in the outer wall, slipping through it like a shadow with you in tow. it wasn't until now that you saw him in his element, not sitting around like a lazy cat like he so often did in your presence.
he's more alert, alive, lithe body moving with purpose. it's nice to see him like this, without all of the bulky armour and constraints of the castle walls. the tension leaves him, his gait changing, and you feel the adrenaline course through your veins as the two of you officially make it outside of the castle.
you try to memorise every step you take, the way the ground feels against your shoes, the feeling of the breeze rushing unfiltered against your face. it's surreal, this taste of freedom, and you feel the urge to laugh like a maniac.
your hand slips from its grasp of gojo's bicep, letting you drift away from your knight in favour of pausing to squat down and inspect the brightly coloured flowers that grew on the path.
it was a mere tulip- nothing that you had ever seen before, the castle favouring more exotic species to showcase than some simple thing that you could pluck from the ground. but it was beautiful, all the same.
you felt gojo pause, letting you have your moment uninterrupted before you stand, beaming up at him.
"the outside world is very beautiful."
"indeed it is, princess. just wait until you see the lanterns up close."
it wasn't too far to reach his hometown, so he said. it was a comfortable walk, the terrain not too demanding. and finally, with the last stretch of land, you saw it.
"oh, wow."
if anything, satoru didn't do it justice in his stories. there's another element that you had never anticipated, of the music coursing throughout the town, breathing life into the people. everything was so much more colourful, more beautiful up close.
the closer you approach it, the more it comes into focus, and you don't try to hide your awe as you take in the surroundings. you don't turn your head to see the way your knight is smiling down at you, a soft look in his eyes.
and while it may make his job a pain sometimes, satoru's thankful that you're so oblivious to his surroundings and the ways he pines after you gone unnoticed. he had never exposed this part of himself before, the small nostalgic part of him that treasured unblemished memories of his childhood, now walking arm in arm with a princess and pointing out each little nook and cranny that he used to play in.
the pair of you finally make it to the inner part of the festivities, where there are countless stalls set up with all kinds of goods being sold. satoru stands back, letting you pour over each individual item, oohing and aahing as the vendors explain what they are.
you do this for... quite some time, until you settle upon a small jewellery stand. it was nothing like you had ever seen worn by nobles, fashioned out of colourful stones and leather cord instead of the gold and silver inlaid with precious gems. it intrigued you, the beautiful polished stone somehow being the most elegant thing you had ever laid eyes upon. and like a bloodhound, the lady running the stall sidled up to you and satoru.
"and for the beautiful couple, what can i interest you in?"
"oh, we-" you laugh, all pitchy as you get flustered, but satoru takes this in stride, simply wrapping his waist around you and pulling you closer together. he always had been one to toe the line.
"i think that my darling here had her eye on that necklace." he nods towards the very one that had caught your attention, you glancing at him in surprise, unaware that he even noticed such details. he merely winked in return as the lady beamed, taking it off its hook and holding it out to you.
"a fine choice, indeed! the rose quartz is said to bring luck to you in all romantic endeavours." you blush as you accept the necklace, satoru paying for it before you could get a single word in. he waved off any protests, merely taking the necklace from your hands before lifting it to fit around your neck.
his fingers brush against the soft skin at your nape, a little shiver rippling from it as he moved your hair onto one of your shoulders, out of the way of the cord.
"it looks beautiful on you." you try not to read into the sincerity emanating from his gaze, bowing your head graciously from the compliment before looping an arm around his, letting satoru guide you through the rest of the village.
you ended up in the main square, watching as some officials released the lanterns, how each one floated upwards until they became pinpricks in the sky. your gaze drifted towards the castle looming, and you felt some heaviness return to your heart.
the night had to come to an end, after all.
satoru sensed your shift in mood, offering a sympathetic smile before the pair of you trudged back, retracing your steps to return to your chambers without getting caught.
for a few minutes, before you properly laid down to rest, you caught yourself toying with the necklace, unable to stop the grin that spread across your face as you thought of the magical night with satoru, and his unseen side.
and as you woke up the next morning, the events of the past few hours were hard to see as more than a dream. but as you rise, you gaze at your reflection in the vanity next to your bed again, and you see the cord of the necklace still peeking out past the neckline of your nightgown.
there's a knock on your door, too, and you see your knight's face peek from around the corner.
"good morning, satoru."
"good morning, princess. did you sleep well?" there's a practised formality in his tone, but you don't miss his expression, the smile that threatens to slip onto his face.
it'll be a secret between just the two of you.
CHOSO KAMO ⌇ there wasn't a single doubt in your mind that this man wouldn't put his life on the line for you
however, it wasn't so certain from the start. when you were first introduced to choso, he was polite. he looked you in the eyes, kneeled to you, pledged his allegiance, but what struck you most was the anger that his gaze met you with.
it was like being scalded, making you shrink back from the sheer intensity. you couldn't get a read off of him apart from that cool anger, one that you weren't even sure was directed at you or not.
it was only through gossip overheard by the maidservants that you learnt of his prospects before being appointed as your bodyguard.
the most promising of his rank, on course to become the youngest commander in the military in the past century. he would have been set for life, the salary enough to support his entire family- yet he's now responsible for babysitting a spoilt princess.
it's what they had said, after all.
and the more you thought about it, the more awful you felt. you understand now why he looked at you like that, that pointed gaze with all its burning intensity. why he looked like he would rather be anywhere else within the castle than at your side.
it's improper to assume responsibility for anything as a member of the royal family, but you do so anyway and apologise to him one night- borderline tearful, your emotions besting you as you finally cave in and tell him about how you think he hates you.
and he stops you mid-sentence, confusion written across all of his features.
"milady... i'm afraid you've got it all wrong."
it was an awkward conversation, to say the least. you had never really been exposed to someone like him before- to have such a rigid sense of duty and seriousness that it translated as hatred was unheard of, even for the castle.
and despite this revelation, choso's stiff upper lip did not waver. his intertwined sense of duty was a tricky thing to peel away from him.
but it's a task that you were willing to commit to. you'd be spending a lot more time with him, after all, and you'd much rather get to know choso as a person if that was the case.
and so began your futile efforts of breaking down choso's barriers. you felt like a petulant child, always asking him questions that he would either blank or answer with an occasional grunt.
you were glad that news travels fast within the castle- any gossip about the princess' handsome new knight was a snippet of information that you hung onto eagerly.
it appears that you weren't alone in harbouring an interest in the young knight- if the excited chattering of maidservants and the way that they squealed over every interaction with him was any indicator.
for some reason, hearing them gush over the way his muscles looked when he was practising swordfighting in the barracks, or how strong he was when he helped carry in heavy sacks of grain rubbed you the wrong way. it lit a fire underneath you that made you all the more eager to get to know him well and truly before anybody else did.
you seemed to have struck gold about sir choso when you overheard one maidservant admit to having grown up in the same village as him- how she remembered that his family used to own a horse that him and his brothers loved more than anything else when growing up.
amidst the oohs and aahs of this revelation, a plan started to hatch in your mind. one that came into fruition the very next day as choso accompanied you on your morning walk around the royal gardens.
"say, choso, have you ever ridden a horse before?"
out of all of the questions and hints about him that you've posed, you've never seen such a reaction from him before. he starts, and out of the corner of your eye you see him almost puff up with excitement, and your ears strain, eager to hear what he has to say before you see him school his features once again, and the moment is bitterly over.
"it was part of my training to become a knight, milady. why do you ask?"
it was no matter if he didn't want to open up yet, you can be patient. and spend a little longer playing dumb about just how much you know about him.
"well, i was thinking of doing something slightly different today." he raises an eyebrow, prompting you to continue. "i wanted to go horse-riding." he pauses for a good few seconds, ever so stoic, before nodding his head in acknowledgement.
"as you wish, milady."
you clap your hands togeher excitedly, beaming up at him.
"perfect!"
you set off in the direction of the stables, your knight following closely behind you, and dare you say with a slightest improvement in the upbeat of his gait. despite all of his professionalism, he still had his tells.
the smell of fresh hay and the less pleasant odour of manure reaches your nostrils before you can properly see the horses, but you let your nose wrinkle in displeasure and resolutely keep marching onwards to the stable entrance. you had a purpose to fulfil by being here, after all.
now, as a princess, it was imperative that you had acquired several different skills as part of your royal upbringing. how to eat properly, how to speak properly, act properly, including when riding a horse.
but, try as you might, you just couldn't quite manage to get a proper grasp on that last part. but, if it meant getting to know choso, you'd simply grin and bear it and hope to god that it didn't buck you off directly into a patch of mud.
the horses can smell your fear, you had been told as a child. even the stubbiest pony accustomed to your eight-year-old self's stature still towered above you, nostrils flared and rubbery lips dripping with saliva, making you hide behind the legs of your tutors as you cowered away from such a ferocious beast.
such childlike fears seemed to resurface now, as the snort of a nearby horse makes you twitch, visibly enough that it doesn't go unnoticed.
"are you alright, milady?" he's eyeing you sideways now, having caught up with your stride with his much longer one. you wonder just how eager he must be to ride a horse that it would warrant him breaking his usual pattern of tracing your footsteps and now meeting them with his own as the pair of you walk.
the thought brings a pang of guilt to accompany it, so you plaster on a smile and nod at him brightly.
"of course i am! it just caught me off guard, is all. not to worry, i'll have two horses be arranged for us."
you look at the nearest stable hand expectantly, and the young boy seems to comprehend your message as he dashes off to affix saddles and leashes to two fine stallions, befitting of royalty, to ride. you don't miss the doubtful look choso still gives you out of the corner of your eye.
it's better than focusing on the huffs and snorts of the beast before you as it's brought forwards, close enough for its putrid breath to curl in warm tendrils against your face. you feel your skin shrivel at the sensation.
but being a princess means putting on a brave face, and to never crumble in the face of adversity.
you march over to see the stirrup, level with your chest, inviting you to step up and onto the horse's back. it's funny, all these years later you would have dwarfed that little pony, so now they've brought an even larger horse to maintain order.
you can feel your heart hammering in your chest as you approach it, and you think that the horse can feel it too, because it snorts, twisting its head, the stable hand sounding panicked as the rope is prised from his grasp by the powerful strain from the stallion.
and then there's those painstaking moments, of the horse bucking and neighing, free now, and you really regret not providing more foresight into this plan.
how exactly will you get to know choso more if you've been trampled to death before he opens his mouth again?
you think this is the end of your short and silly life, if not for the hand that shoots out, grabbing the reins, another smoothing over the horse's snout. you watch in awe as your knight, your personal bodyguard, does just that and saves you from what would have been an imminent and painful death.
and like some horse whisperer, the stallion was now rendered meek and docile, following where it was led as choso turned to you, expression impassive as always.
"are you scared of horses milady?"
how foolish of you to think you wouldn't be all these years later. there's no use lying, and you dejectedly nod at his question. a beat of silence, before confusion graces his features.
"then why decide to go riding today?"
"because i heard that you like horses..."
it sounds so truly pathetic coming out of your mouth, but your heart still skips a beat as you see an entirely new expression on his face. a smile, one that he bites back as he looks off to the side, shaking his head in disbelief.
and then he looks back at you, really looks at you, with that coldness in his eyes parting like clouds to give way to something softer, warmer.
"allow me to help you then, your highness."
you give him a shy little nod at his proposition, and choso turns to the tearfully apologetic stable hand, signalling to him to return the other horse. you're confused as he approaches you, horse in tow, and you eye the animal with suspicion as it meets you face to face.
"the first thing about any animal is to establish a connection with it, milady." choso speaks so softly, voice barely above a whisper, and you watch in amazement as the horse's ears prick up, as if hanging on every word that he says alongside yourself.
"you've got to talk to it, introduce yourself." he motions for you to try, and your eyes flick back to the horse.
"hello, horse," you whisper to it. you feel like an idiot, but choso's nod of encouragement and second rare smile convince you to keep going. "it's nice to meet you."
it seems to have turned its attention towards you now, its nose snuffling at you, and you rear back a little.
"it's okay, milady, he just wants to smell you."
you look at choso again, expression doubtful, and he holds his hand outstretched, prompting you to place your palm in his.
he's warm, deliciously so, a decisive strength resting behind each finger as he guides your dainty hand towards the maw of the beast. its nostrils flare, snuffling against your hand, and you giggle girlishly at the odd sensation. choso's smiling now, no charade as he lets his joy shine through, matching yours.
"see? he likes you, your highness."
the pair of you stay like that for a few minutes, tentatively stroking the horse, until you feel comfortable enough to suggest riding them. choso nods, a flicker of responsibilty taking over his expressions as he guides you towards the saddle.
you're uncertain all over again, for different reasons now, as the distance required to get your foot in the stirrup seemed a little too high to achieve. and then choso's behind you, a hushed "may i?" whispered into your ear as his fingers curl at your waist.
you're flustered now, nodding all the same, gasping at how easily he lifts you until your feet dangle adjacent to the sturrup, and you let yourself slip a foot into it and swing the rest of yourself up and over to be seated on the horse.
you peer down at choso, desperately trying to ignore the fact that his head was directly next to your lap. it was absurd- you were the one riding atop a horse as he remained on the ground, you were the one of royal descent- yet in this very moment you were entirely at his mercy.
you clear your throat, nodding to him.
"if there aren't any more horses, how are you going to ride one?" and now he smirks at you, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world.
"well, if you're so scared of horses, i thought that i'd continue to help you get over that fear."
the penny doesn't drop until he places his foot in the very same stirrup that you had used to hoist yourself up, doing the same in an admittedly much more fluid motion, and positing himself flush against your back.
if it weren't for the light armour he wore, you were certain that he would be able to feel the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
you look down to your lap, watching as his arms reach forwards, practically embracing you, before his hands take a willful grip of the leather reins.
"how does that sound, milady?" he's practically purring into your ear, and he must know the effect he's having on you, if not before then definitely now as you sharply inhale, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck prickle at the slight sensation of his breath.
you don't even trust yourself to speak eloquently without making a fool of yourself, so you nod instead. the message is not lost on choso, and he chuckles right into your ear before starting to guide the horse as easily as breathing.
the animal lurched forwards, and your hands shot out, instinctively latching onto the nearest solid thing. whether they were your knight's hands or not wasn't important. but choso took this in stride, guiding your hands to take hold of the reins, and then encapsulating them with his own.
it sent a little thrill jolting through your spine, especially as he shuffles even closer to you, just to make sure that he could see properly.
your plan was working brilliantly after all.
and for all the trouble it took to situate yourself on the horse, your initial fears melted away in the presence of choso, as he spurred the horse to start a slow walk out of the stables, and onto the vast grounds surrounding the palace.
and as you gaze back to catch a glimpse of your knight, catching the way he smiles down at you so freely, faces a breadth apart, you realise that your fates are well and truly intertwined together.
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➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... there's no release, i feel you in my dreams
(i don't have any other jjk fics FOR NOW ㅜㅡㅜ) best friend!aventurine x reader
➤ alternatively, you can find my jjk masterlist here!
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asuyaka · 5 months ago
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Guess who's back for that monthly movie list requesting? That's right, your favorite Satosugu sucker!💃💃
All jokes aside tho, I am in some *desperate* need of quality Yuji content that doesn't involve my boy getting yeet'en around like a ragdoll in Shibuya😔
So here is my prompt for today!
Yuji has a rich boyfie(reader) who is like- deadass the hottest thing to exist ever since Apollo, and they just love to spoil Yuji rotten in shape and form possible, being basically that dreamy kind of lover that gives their partners royalty treatment lol
Like, Reader is very gentle and soft with Yuji and isn't afraid of expressing their love and devotion to him, buying him expensive gifts, taking him to all sorts of dates and indulging in whatever couple activities Yuji proposes, cuddling with him on the couch, giving him those affectionate kisses(cheeks, forehead, the tip of the nose, back of the hand, whatever's in the menu) and just overall the definition of perfect lover you'd see in the books: fashionable, romantic, chivalrous, flirty, teasing and fun to have around. Also for the sake of simplicity, let's just say that Reader is a sorcerer as well.
I am a shameless simp if it wasn't obvious already, also if it isn't much of a bother- could you maybe write a bonus scene where Yuji shows up to Jujutsu Tech with some jewelry(could be a necklace, a pair of wristbands or one of those simple golden earrings) that Reader bought him the day before and Nobara, being Nobara, immediately notices the clearly expensive accessory and confronts Yuji about it, only for the boy to bluntly say something like "oh, my boyfriend gave it to me", cue to Nobara and Megumi swarming Yuji with questions cus they had no idea Yuji could bag someone, let alone someone who had enough money to buy something that you'd only see someone like Gojo wearing so casually.
Sincerely, '🌈' Anon.
★ - wowie you guys really like the rich reader troupe huh,,,
☆ - Yuuji Itadori x Rich! Male Reader!
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You spritzed a bottle of Eros Versace on your wrists, rubbing the scent on your neck and behind your ear. Slipping on a pair of sneakers and making your way to the park where you and your boyfriend, Itadori Yuuji, decided to meet up.
You were taking him out on a date to celebrate your one-year anniversary, a date Yuuji excitedly texted you about at twelve in the morning.
"[Name]!" Itadori exclaimed, crushing you in a tight hug as soon as he spotted you walking into the park. You smiled as your boyfriend lifted you off the ground and spun you around, putting you back on the floor with a smile that rivaled the sun. "Happy anniversary—wow, you smell good! Is that a new cologne?"
You kissed his hand. "Happy anniversary, prince. It is a new cologne, I ordered it yesterday just for the occasion."
Yuuji blushed at the pet name, averting his eyes when you intertwined his hand in yours. "So, um, where are we going? Telling me to dress 'casual' doesn't explain anything."
Itadori was wearing a black jacket over a white zip-up hoodie with a black cross in the middle, paired with black jeans and a pair of red Converse.
"I'm not spoiling the rest of the date, but I will tell you that we're going to a mall."
Yuuji perked up. "A mall? Sweet!" He squeezed your hand as the two of you walked to a nearby mall, humming occasionally as your boyfriend ranted about everything that happened the past week.
The trip to the mall was an excuse to spoil Yuuji. Anything he wanted, he got. If he looked at an item for too long, you bought it. If he expressed any kind of positive emotion towards something, it was his. Hell, if he asked, you'd try buying the entire mall just for him because it was what your prince deserved.
Hoodies, zip-ups, shirts, pants, rings, necklaces, matching plushies, cologne—something similar to yours but not exactly so he smelt like you— and hats. Whatever your boy wanted he got.
After spending at least ten thousand yen at the mall, you went to a small burger chain Yuuji loved for a lunch break. Seeing him happy as he ate... three burgers brought a smile to your face, especially when he was concerned at your minimal order of french fries and ice cream.
Discreetly, you bought a bouquet of lithiasis flowers, tulips, and white roses; surprising him when he walked out of the burger place.
"Oh my God," Yuuji flushed, taking the flowers and pressing a kiss on your lips. "You're so sweet, babe, I love you so much."
"Lithiasis flowers mean an everlasting bond, tulips mean deep love, and roses just mean love." You kissed Yuuji's cheek, a smile on your face as the tips of his ears tinted red. "I love you too, Dear. Happy anniversary, and much more to come."
Yuuji sniffled. "[Name], I'm going to start crying if you keep this up— I promise you."
You giggled and kissed his cheek again. "As long as they're tears of happiness, prince, I think we'll be okay."
That made Yuuji audibly keen, wrapping his hands around your waist and putting his head in the crook of your neck. "You're so perfect... what did I do to deserve you?"
You patted your boyfriend's hair as you kissed the crown of his head. "You did nothing but exist, prince. I'll always love you, no matter what happens. You'll always be the love of my life."
You meant it too. You couldn't love anyone else like you loved Yuuji, and Yuuji couldn't love anyone else like he loved you. You were two peas in a pod, always together, no matter the circumstances.
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"Where the fuck did you get that?" Nobara pointed at the Kirby sweater her friend was wearing. The Kirby sweater that she knew was over nine-thousand yen the last time she checked (which was two days ago).
"Huh?" Yuuji looked down at his hoodie before smiling. "Oh, my boyfriend got it for me!"
Megumi looked at the pink-haired boy from over the couch. "Boyfriend?" He and Nobara said in unison.
"...yeah? My boyfriend got it for me for our anniversary! It's super comfy, probably my favorite hoodie other than my yellow one!"
"Yuuji," Nobara started, "It's not April first, and you're a shit liar. C'mon, tell me where you got the hoodie from because I know you don't have nine thousand yen as pocket money."
"Dude I'm being so serious! You believe me, right Fushiguro?"
Megumi shrugged. "Not really."
Itadori gasped. "I told you guys like three days ago I was going on a date!"
"Yeah, with yourself." Nobara rolled her eyes. "Now stop lying and tell me where you got it from! Did Gojo-sensei buy it for you? I knew he had favorites but I always thought it was Megumi 'cause, you know, he's his dad and everything."
"Gojo-sensei isn't my dad." Megumi interrupted.
"Yeah, and I'm Jennifer fucking Lawrence."
"Don't disrespect Jennifer like that!"
Nobara groaned. "Yuuji, I swear on everything I love if you don't tell me where you got that and all the other expensive shit in your closet I'm hammering your hand to a wall."
"I told you already, my boyfriend got it for me!" Yuuji exclaimed, pulling out his phone to show them a picture he had taken on his anniversary.
Megumi stared with a blank expression. "It's photoshop."
"It's not fucking— do you want me to call him right now?"
"Sure, call this so-called 'boyfriend' of yours. We all know your charisma is horrible, Yuuji."
Itadori pouted as he clicked on your contact. "My charisma isn't horrible," he muttered, putting the phone on speaker as the call rang.
You picked up on the first ring. "Prince? I just woke up, apologies if my voice sounds weird, but did you need me for something?"
"Yeah, remember when we had our anniversary three days ago?"
"...yes?"
"Just checking, you bought me that Kirby hoodie from Hot Topic right? With all the other stuff I put in my closet?"
"I did, is the hoodie not to your liking anymore? I can go buy a new one if you want."
Yuuji stared at his friends surprised expressions, a smug grin forming on his face. "No, I just wanted to make sure. Sorry for bothering you, go back to sleep!"
His boyfriend laughed on the other end. "Alright, love. I'll call you when I wake up, good night."
Yuuji kissed into the mic. "Sweet dreams, I love you!"
"I love you too, Dear." He ended the call and placed his phone back on the table. "I fucking told you so."
"Where the hell did you find a guy that has Gojo-sensei money?!" Kugisaki yelled, pointing an accusing finger in Yuuji's face.
"Where did you find a guy who can sit through you talk about the Human Eathworm?"
Yuuji crossed his arms. "You guys are acting like I'm ugly or something!"
A silence stretched and his friends looked the other way. "Well... you aren't exactly good looking that's for sure."
"Shut the fuck up, Kugisaki!"
"You wanna go? Don't think just because you have a ten-thousand yen worth hoodie on I won't beat the shit out of you!"
"I thought it was nine-thousand?" Megumi asked.
"Shut up Fushiguro!"
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meiieiri · 10 months ago
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JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST
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❀ -> fluff, slice of life | ★ -> highly recommended | ⛆ -> angst level on a scale of five (e.g. ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ ⛆: proceed with caution) | ❆ -> smut
assume that all works have mild 18+ sub-themes in them since i am indeed quite old, and in my late twenties, but i will specify if a fic is purely 18+ by placing a dni notice on it. thanks~!
last updated: march 29, 2024
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GOJO SATORU
to have and to lose -> angst (gojo satoru x reader x ex baby daddy!geto suguru) | ⛆ ⛆ ⛆, ★
synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.
water’s edge -> angst, royal au (prince!gojo satoru) | series | ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ (on hold)
synopsis: in a world where titles define their fates, gojo satoru, the crown prince of japan, and his wife-to-be, face a tempestuous court of deception and schadenfreude. as they waltz on the edge of ruin, can their love endure the treacherous waters that threaten to pull them apart, or will the whims of the enigmatic chrysanthemum throne prove strong enough to drown them both?
beguiled -> fluff, angst (clan head!gojo satoru) | ❀, ⛆
synopsis: gojo just can’t get his little servant girl out of his head.
stolen moments with them -> fluff (ft. geto suguru, nanami kento, gojo satoru) | ❀, ★
late night snippets with them -> fluff (ft. geto suguru, nanami kento, gojo satoru) | ❀, ★
the north face -> slice of life, angst | ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ ⛆, ★
synopsis: in every other universe and lifetime he has yet to lead, megumi will always cherish the painfully brief time he felt the warmth of a proper family and would have gladly referred to himself as the son of the strongest.
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GETO SUGURU
flickering light (dad!geto series)
synopsis: “akari. heaven’s light.” that’s what he and his wife named her. after the events of his last mission with satoru gojo, suguru geto is convinced he is cursed, but how could he continue thinking that whilst he is holding the little blessing in his arms?
little nymph of his heart -> fluff (dad!geto suguru) | ❀
synopsis: in which suguru meets his newborn daughter.
when she loved me -> fluff, angst (dad!geto suguru) | ❀
synopsis: in which suguru wakes up from his nightmare and is comforted by his little light.
to have and to lose -> angst (gojo satoru x reader x ex baby daddy!geto suguru) | ⛆ ⛆ ⛆, ★
synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
fucking the star plasma vessel’s sister -> angst, smut (toji fushiguro x younger!reader) | ⛆, ❆
synopsis: after the two brats from tokyo jujutsu tech took the star plasma vessel, toji momentarily sets his eyes on an uncompensated target, you.
harmony in the twilight hour -> heavy angst (ex husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill ex wife!reader) | ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ ⛆ ⛆, ★
synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.
hidden inventory: the lost tapes series -> angst, fluff (toji fushiguro x reader) | ★
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NANAMI KENTO
ps: you’re beautiful -> heavy angst, hurt/comfort (scarred!nanami kento x fiancé!reader)
synopsis: [redacted, tba]
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OTHERS
…tba
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sp1der-wid0w · 11 months ago
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NAVIGATION ★ ™!
my name is ivy!
21. black. bi. she/her
multifandom. miguel o’hara. jennifer check. hobie brown. miles morales. spider noir. peter b parker. jason voorhees. michael myers. billy loomis. stu macher. carrie white. gwen stacy. maddy perez. cassie howard. jules vaughn. rue bennet. feszco. lexi howard. chanel oberlin. damon salvatore. harley quinn. patrick bateman. omniman. invincible. atom eve. choso. yuji itadori. saturu gojo. kento nanami. princess tiana. prince naveen. charlotte la’bouff. johnny cage. kitara. mileena. nitara. liu kang. scorpion.
rules — minors are welcome, but be aware. no rape, underage, non-consent, otherwise creepy and controversial requests! no racism, sexism, or zionists are welcome here either.
spiderverse
slashers
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sweetheartmotives · 1 year ago
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ᯓ★𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷ᯓ★
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≻─────────────‎˚₊‧𖥔୨🍨•🍡୧𖥔‧₊˚─────────────≺
⋆₊ ⊹★More about the author⋆₊ ⊹★
Hello, and welcome to my blog! My name is SweetheartMotives but you can call me sweetheart for short. Some information about me is that I'm 14, I go by he/him, and I enjoy characters like Madoka Kaname from Puella Magi Madoka Magica and Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen! ^^
≻─────────────‎ ⋆₊ ⊹★♡★⊹ ₊⋆ ─────────────≺
✶⋆.˚More about my blog˚.⋆✶
I mainly write yandere oc content, ranging from fluffy, smutty, or angsty fics. If you're uncomfortable with this type of content feel free to step away from my blog ^_^ But if you enjoy this type of content, woohoo! Me too! Drop by and say Hello, my inbox is always open! (≧▽≦)
Oh, and speaking of my inbox, my inbox is almost always open! Sometimes it's closed for long periods but that's because I get burned out super quickly 😭 But whenever my requests are open, feel free to drop an idea or request for a new or current yan! (,,>ヮ<,,)!
[Pssst! Side note: I do not condone irl Yandere behavior, this is all silly writing I do for funsies and your guys' enjoyment!]
≻───────────── ˚₊‧꒰ა 🥞 ໒꒱‧₊˚ ─────────────≺
˗ˏˋ ★ <My and this blog's opps> ★ ˎˊ˗
@arcadephantom [Boob guy], @yxamilover420 [Patrik], @woahbuckroo [lex], Gege Akutami, and adult writers who write smut abt minors and say MDNI.
≻───────────── ⋆⭒「♡」⭒⋆ ─────────────≺
★⭑My Rules!⭑★
I know I know, blehhhh, rules!! But they're important so please read them!
Firstly, if you support or participate in, homophobia, transphobia, racism, ableism, pedophilia, zoophilia, proshipping, incest, stepcest, and age-play, please DNI! I am uncomfortable with those things and they are not welcome here. Secondly, Before you request, check my wills and wonts for writing! I may not write for what you are looking for and I do apologize for that. Lastly, please be patient with me.
≻──────────── 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖🍬˖  ๋࣭ 𓏲 ─────────────≺
⟡˙⋆ What I will and won't write ⋆˙⟡
What I will write: Yanderes of any gender and sexuality, reader of any gender and sexuality, angst fics, smut fics, Platonic fics, and fluffy fics. I'll write most things so get creative! :]
What I won't write: Incest/stepcest, smut that has anything included with body fluids like pee or period blood, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, torture, non-con, urine or feces in general, pedophilia, age play, cuckolding, public sex, stuff to do with feet, and PREGNANCY FETISHES!! I WILL NOT WRITE SEXUAL STUFF THAT HAS TO DO WITH PREGNANT PEOPLE !!
≻────────────── ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ──────────────≺
☆๑◇Masterlist◇๑☆
Micah, The yan Bartender:
First Appearance Pt.1
Jaakobah, Evil Yan Cupid!:
First Appearance
Harper, The yan Eagle Hybrid:
First Appearance
Damian, The yan deep diver:
First Appearance pt.1
Taiyō, the Yandere Cafe Host:
First Appearance Pt.1
Yumako, The yan magical girl:
First Appearance improved fic
Isla, the Platonic!Yandere witch:
First Appearance
Kaan, the yan vampire:
First Appearance Pt.1 Pt.2
Tomen, the Clumsy Yandere:
First Appearance pt 1
Kaden, the yan Stalker:
First Appearance pt.1
Apollo, the Yandere Otter Hybrid:
First Appearance
Yandere Arctic Fox Hybrid:
First Appearance
Yandere prince:
First Appearance
Semi-truck
Holiday specials:
Christmas, Valentine's Day,
Enjoy my yan oc dumps!
≻────────────‎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖[🌸].𖥔 ݁ ˖ ────────────≺
☆ミAnons!☆ミ
🍮 anon, 🍀 anon, 🍯 anon, 🍓 anon, 🪷 anon, 💥🌈anon, 🌟 anon, Kraken anon,
≻─────────────── ✮⋆˙˙⋆✮ ────────────────≺
Side notes:
I am no longer a writer for yans, sorry!! (;´_ゝ`)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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animemusicbrackets · 2 years ago
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HERES THE BRACKET. FINALLY. GOD.
sorry for the wait u_u
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(Text version, with dates under the cut below)
For franchises that had more than one submission, I grouped them together so that after round 2, there will only be one contestant per franchise. to try to be fair or whatever, so that a small number of franchises dont dominate the bracket
yes i know mdzs and tgcf arent anime but its my poll tourney and i do what i want godbless
this might be too much to ask but please watch the videos if you can and vote based on that! idc how much you like or dislike the anime, how much do you like the OPENING. obviously this is for fun so you can do whatever but if possible i dont rly want this to be a popularity poll :')
propaganda welcome :)
Tag List: round 1 round 2 round 3 quarterfinals semifinals finals third place round propaganda bracket updates matches (the actual polls, not including any reblogs)
ROUND 1
PART A (5/6 12:00pm ET)
Match 1: "Peace Sign" - Kenshi Yonezu (My Hero Academia) {VS} "Hitamuki" - SUPER BEAVER (My Hero Academia) Match 2: "THE DAY" - Porno Graffitti (My Hero Academia) {VS} "H. T. [Humanoid Typhoon]" - Tsuneo Imahori (Trigun 1998) Match 3: "Kaen" - QUEEN BEE (Dororo 2019) {VS} "Naru" - PON (Tsurune: Kazemai High School Kyudo Club) Match 4: "DANZEN! Futari wa Pretty Cure" - Gojo Mayumi (Futari wa Pretty Cure) {VS} "Bye Bye" - 7!! (Kimi To Boku) Match 5: "Hikariare" - BURNOUT SYNDROMES (Haikyuu!!) {VS} "FLY HIGH!!" - BURNOUT SYNDROMES (Haikyuu!!) Match 6: "Gun's & Roses" - Paradise Lunch (Baccano!) {VS} "Flyers" - BRADIO (Death Parade) Match 7: "MAN HUMAN" - Denki Groove (Devilman Crybaby) {VS} "Goya no Machiawase" - Hello Sleepwalkers (Noragami) Match 8: "Maji LOVE 1000%" - STARISH (Uta no Prince-sama: Maji Love 1000%) {VS} "KICK BACK" - Kenshi Yonezu (Chainsaw Man)
PART B (5/8 12:00pm ET)
Match 9: "Papermoon" - Tommy heavenly6 (Soul Eater) {VS} "Resonance" - T.M. Revolution (Soul Eater) Match 10: "Hyadain no Kakakata☆Kataomoi-C" - Maeyamada Kenichi (Nichijou) {VS} "Parallel Hearts" - FictionJunction (Pandora Hearts) Match 11: "Easy Breezy" - chelmico (Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!) {VS} "Bara wa Utsukushiku Chiru" - Koji Makaino (Rose of Versailles) Match 12: "Tank!" - The Seatbelts (Cowboy Bebop) {VS} "COLORS" - FLOW (Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion) Match 13: "Melissa" - Porno Graffitti (Fullmetal Alchemist 2003) {VS} "Golden Time Lover" - Sukima Switch (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood) Match 14: "Rain" - SID (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood) {VS} "Again" - YUI (Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood) Match 15: "Monochrome Kiss" - SID (Black Butler) {VS} "Brand New World" - D-51 (One Piece) Match 16: "Smile Bomb" - Mawatari Matsuko (Yu Yu Hakusho) {VS} "Dream Island Obsessional Park" - Susumu Hirasawa (Paranoia Agent)
PART C (5/10 12:00pm ET)
Match 17: "R★O★C★K★S" - Hound Dog (Naruto) {VS} "Lovers" - 7!! (Naruto: Shippuden) Match 18: "Far Away" - Asian Kung-Fu Generation (Naruto) {VS} "Blue Bird" - Ikimonogakari (Naruto: Shippuden) Match 19: "Hero's Come Back" - Nobodyknows (Naruto: Shippuden) {VS} "BLOODY STREAM" - Coda (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure) Match 20: "Aoi Hana" - Kikukodan (Sweet Blue Flowers) {VS} "Unravel" - TK (Tokyo Ghoul) Match 21: "Setsuna no Ai" - GRANRODEO (Bungo Stray Dogs) {VS} "Gurenge" - LiSA (Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba) Match 22: "Scar" - Tatsuya Kitani (Bleach) {VS} "Eternal Blaze" - Nana Mizuki (Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha A's) Match 23: "Sono Saki e" - RIRIKO (Children of the Whales) {VS} "Rondo-Revolution" - Masami Okui (Revolutionary Girl Utena) Match 24: "Motteke! Sailor Fuku" - Aya Hirano, Emiri Katou, Kaori Fukuhara, and Aya Endo (Lucky☆Star) {VS} "Moonlight Densetsu" - Dali, Moon Lips (Sailor Moon)
PART D (5/12 12:00pm ET)
Match 25: "99.9" - MOB CHOIR feat. sajou no hana (Mob Psycho 100) {VS} "1" - MOB CHOIR (Mob Psycho 100) Match 26: "99" - MOB CHOIR (Mob Psycho 100) {VS} "Kibou no Uta" - Ultra Tower (Food Wars) Match 27: "Departure!" - Masatoshi Ono (Hunter x Hunter) {VS} "Sakura Kiss" - Chieko Kawabe (Ouran High School Host Club) Match 28: "History Maker" - Dean Fujioka (Yuri!!! On ICE) {VS} "Kaikai Kitan" - Eve (Jujutsu Kaisen) Match 29: "Drunken Dreams of the Past" - Lin Zhixuan (Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation) {VS} "Connect" - ClariS (Puella Magi Madoka Magica) Match 30: "No Parting" - Jeff Chang (Heaven Official's Blessing) {VS} "Delicate ni Suki Shite" - Ota Takako (Mahou no Tenshi Creamy Mami) Match 31: "Kiss Me" - Celeina Ann and Nai Br.XX (Carole & Tuesday) {VS} "Sudachi no Uta" - Anemoneria (Wonder Egg Priority) Match 32: "A Cruel Angel's Thesis" - Yoko Takahashi (Neon Genesis Evangelion) {VS} "Shinzou wo Sasageyo" - Linked Horizon (Attack on Titan)
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chuulyssa · 1 month ago
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prince!gojo somehow knows exactly when you need him.
tw nightmares + mentions of a horrible past, angst
the hallway was dark, save for the faint glow of the moon seeping through the cracks in the curtains. most of the house was asleep, and it was so quiet that you could hear the crickets chirp from even the closed windows. you were lying in bed, trying to shut out the unease that gnawed at your insides. it had been like this for weeks — these strange, suffocating hands gripping at your throat, your hair and your feet, pushing you into a cage that was slowly inching towards a floor filled with lava, in front of which sat a large crowd of chattering people, no doubt enjoying the scene of torment. and then the place would evaporate again, showing an old kitchen, burnt food in a plate and torn and stitched hand-me-downs, until you grew tired of the images and forced yourself to wake up.
you squeezed your eyes shut after waking up this way for the twelfth time that night, waiting for sleep to come again, but it didn’t. instead, you only felt the shadows in the corners of your room grow longer, and the whispering voices growing louder, cold fingers brushing the back of your neck. you shook your head vigorously as if to push the ghosts of your past away, but they always came back.
and then, you heard it.
the soft tap-tap of footsteps down the hallway, just light enough that anyone else would have missed them. but you didn’t. you knew those footsteps. they were the ones that always came, no matter how late it was, no matter how much time had passed since you last heard them. the door to your room creaked open quietly, and there he was.
satoru.
he didn’t say anything — he never did — but you felt the familiar warmth of his presence before he even stepped inside. even you could never figure out what dream you would have the next day, but somehow satoru always knew. and you never questioned it.
his steps were quiet as he made his way over to your bed, and you could hear the soft rustle of his clothes as he sat down beside you. he was close now, so close. you lifted your head up to greet him and he saw your moist cheeks. wiping them gently without a word, he tugged the covers back, slipping in beside you. his arm came around your waist, pulling you close, and for a moment, you could breathe again.
“go to sleep. don’t worry about these things, i’m here now,” he whispered softly.
you wanted to argue; you didn’t need to be coddled like a child. but the words never came. you didn’t want to push him away. not now.
you could hear his breath steadying beside you, the rhythm of it calming you. the weight of his arm around you was solid, like it could protect you from anything. and for the first time in the entire night, the nightmares seemed a little less real. the shadows weren’t so dark. the whispers were drowned out by his steady breathing, and him. everything about him. from the scent of his hair to the softness of his palms. it was all him you could think about right now.
“close your eyes,” satoru whispered again.
you nodded against his chest, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt. his thumb stroked small circles on the small of your back, and you felt your body relax into his. his arms, always so strong, were so gentle around you. 
but then, the years passed.
it wasn’t a sudden change, not at first. it was more like the gradual fade of a dream when you wake up in the morning. when one night, you found yourself lying awake, needing him, but the door didn���t creak open.
when you waited night after night for the gentle sound of his footsteps, but they never came. for the way your bed would softly sink when he climbed up on it, but you never felt it again. when you needed him, but he never came.
you couldn’t understand why. was he busy? were the two of you too old to do this anymore? now he had his own life, his own friends, his own world outside of you. but you hated it. you hated the looming shadows laughing at your pathetic prayers to reach him. you hated the hushed whispers that asked where he was now mockingly. you hated the emptiness in your bed more than any nightmare.
and the morning would come, and you would go to school, but he would never talk about the darkness under your eyes. he knew. and yet he never came.
and you missed it. you missed him.
but satoru didn’t come anymore.
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tteokdoroki · 3 months ago
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ᯓ★ ONCE UPON A FUCK ME !? — kinktober 2024 !
mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the filthiest fairytale of them all? your favourite storybook characters, reimagined.
✧ there’s a note from your fairy godmother - hello my angels !! welcome to another kinktober. i hope you guys are as excited as i am. wave your magic wand here ! to join the taglist. rb for a happy ending ₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡.
✧ read the blurb - each of the following fairytales contain nsfw and dark themes. fem!reader. each fic comes with its own warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact.
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✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER ONE RAPUNZEL - satoru gojo.
[OCT 1ST ★ BONDAGE] once upon a time, a girl trapped in a tower with nothing but her extremely lavish, long hair as company decides…fuck it and sleeps with a handsome stranger to get what she wants.
additional kinks. orgasm control, sensory deprivation, edging, thigh riding, spit kink, outer-course, begging, switching.
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✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST - katsuki bakugou.
[OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING] once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while.
additional kinks. bath sex, soft sex, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, body modifications.
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✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER FIFTEEN CINDERELLA - tobio kageyama.
[OCT 15TH ★ MUTUAL MASTURBATION] once upon a time, a soon-to-be crowned princess, once down on her luck, says fuck it and settles on consummating her marriage with the crown prince before they’re actually due to be married.
additional kinks. oral sex, clothed sex, cherry chasing, first time, corruption.
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✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER SIXTEEN THE LITTLE MERMAID - eijirou kirishima.
[OCT 16TH ★ FUCK OR DIE] once upon a time, a princess decides — fuck it! fuck the engagement. who cares when a sexy half-man, half -fish…prince? whatever! needs to drown her in an ocean of pleasure in order to survive…
additional kinks. underwater sex, ritualistic sex, voice kink, pain kink, choking, quickie.
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✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO SLEEPING BEAUTY - seishiro nagi.
[OCT 22ND ★ SOMNOPHILIA] once upon a time, a brave knight, destined to marry someone she’d never met, says fuck it and plans to reap the rewards of saving the prince from eternal slumber. without realising that he’s already awake…
additional kinks. hold the moan, overstimulation, cockwarming, dacryphilia, outer-course, free use, dub con, cumplay.
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✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER TWENTY NINE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD - yuuji itadori.
[OCT 29TH ★ KNOTTING] once upon a time, a curious little girl says fuck it and disobeyes her mother’s only wish. stay on the path when you visit your granny, you don’t want to get snatched up by the big bad wolf.
additional kinks. wolf hybrids, mating season, oral fixation, sweat + scent kink, pregnancy kink, lactation, breeding, a/b/o.
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✐ᝰ.ᐟ BONUS CHAPTER: GOLDILOCKS & THE THREE BEARS - bachira, isagi 'n nagi.
[OCT 31ST ★ CUCKING] once upon a time, a sweet little bear hybrid on her own in the woods decides... fuck it! she'll teach that pesky thief goldilocks what it really means to share. with the help of friends, of course.
additional kinks. bear hybrids, double penetration, mutual masturbation, deep throating, brat taming, exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, foursome, dub-con, coercion, marking, oral sex.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
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haykawas · 1 year ago
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★⋆. ࿐࿔ wips
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✩•̩̩͙*˚ JUJUTSU KAISEN
THE PROPOSAL – coworkers!to lovers, power dynamic, boss!gojo, enemies!to lovers, forced proximity, fake!dating, only one bed trope. Your world turns upside down when you suddenly have to marry your unsufferable boss in order to keep your job. Hey, at least you'll get a promotion out of it, right?
SIX EYES – superhero!AU, enemies!to lovers, hero!gojo, villain!reader, fluff, eventual smut, infatuated!gojo. Everyone knows and loves The Six Eyes, the city's top hero who has done more headliners than you can count. He got everything and could get anyone, but why is it that he only wants you, public enemy number one?
CURSED – pirate!au, pirate captain!geto, slow burn, angst, enemies!to lovers, eventual fluff & smut. As a mercenary, you'd harbored countless ambitions in life. but to find yourself surrounded on all fronts by the infamous Curseweaver and his crew, his sword pointed right at your neck, was a scenario you never imagined.
TANGLED – tangled!au, rapunzel!geto, strangers to lovers, fluff, romance. Seeking refuge in an abandoned tower seemed like the perfect escape at the time, – Until you came face to face with a very sweet-looking, brooding prince, and his very lethal pan.
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last updated : 02/12/2023.
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teddybeartoji · 10 months ago
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✎ SATORU GOJO
— "i hunger to commit the act of touch" m.list (prince!gojo x gn!knight!reader, crack, angst, fluff)
— boyfriend!gojo m.list
— roomie!gojo m.list
— hybrids m.list
— pov: you’re megumi’s kindergarten teacher and his guardian is kinda cute and you feel like you were meant to meet him (gn!reader, fluff, 3k)
— making out with gojo and geto at a party (f!reader, suggestive, hc's)
— touching teeth with him (gn!reader, suggestive, 1.2k)
— coworker!gojo thoughts (office!au, 1k)
— making out with coworker!gojo at work (m!reader, mature, 0.7k)
— a meet-cute with a handsome stranger on the bus (gn!reader, fluff, 1.5k)
— going skinny dipping with best friend!gojo (gn!reader, fluff, 1.2k)
— random headcanons
— ways that the jjk characters show their love to their autistic beloved (headcanons, gn!reader, fluff)
— con-artist!gojo and con-artist!reader are scheming. are they doing it together though? (gn!reader, crack, 1.2k)
— puppy!gojo and blue balls (gn!reader, mature, 1.6k)
— toji the brat tamer vs you and satoru (gn!reader, mature, 0.6k)
★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆ - ★
✎ SUGURU GETO
— a meet-cute with a handsome stranger in the park (gn!reader, fluff, 4k)
— roomie!suguru and his dirty thoughts (gn!reader, mature, 1k)
— spending a morning with roomie!suguru (gn!reader, fluff, 0.7k)
— a tired suguru dozing off on top of you (gn!reader, fluff, 1.2k)
— making out with gojo and geto at a party (f!reader, suggestive, hc's)
— afab!suguru headcanons (fluff, and like two paragraphs of mature content)
— ways that the jjk characters show their love to their autistic beloved (headcanons, gn!reader, fluff)
— hybrids m.list
★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆
✎ SHOKO IEIRI
— shoko might have an itty bitty little crush (gn!reader, fluff, 0.6k)
— ways that the jjk characters show their love to their autistic beloved (headcanons, gn!reader, fluff)
✎ TOJI FUSHIGURO
— "blinded by the light" m.list (apocalypse au, gn!reader, horror, crack, fluff, angst)
— bf!toji learns how to apologize (gn!reader, mild angst w comfort, 2.3k)
— toji goes grocery shopping with little gumi and miki (fluff, 0.6k)
— toji fucking you in prone bone (gn!reader, mature, 1.1k)
— toji finds out that you're a little freak (a little piss never hurt anybody<3) (gn!reader, mature, 0.8k)
— toji the brat tamer vs you and satoru (gn!reader, mature, 0.6k)
— toji loves "bad" blowjobs (gn!reader, mature, 0.7k)
— cat dad toji (all fluff, 0.9k)
— ways that the jjk characters show their love to their autistic beloved (headcanons, gn!reader, fluff)
— going to the club with bsf!roomie!toji (fem!reader, mature, 0.5k + thank u lunar for this treat ily)
— hybrids m.list
— toji's sensitive nipples
— toji and biting (gn!reader, mature, 0.6k)
★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆ - ★ - ☆
✎ KENTO NANAMI
— ways that the jjk characters show their love to their autistic beloved (headcanons, gn!reader, fluff)
★ - ☆
✎ YUUTA OKKOTSU
— giving your cute virgin friend a handjob (f!reader, mature, 2.7k)
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luvymelody · 1 year ago
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masterlist!
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key!
꩜.ᐟ= angst ᯓ★ = fluff ᯓᡣ𐭩 = nsfw ᝰ.ᐟ = mystery (ngl idk how to describe)
✧˖° = gn!reader 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ = fem!reader ₊˚⊹♡ = male!reader
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avatar (atla) !
nothing yet
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haikyuu!
karasuno ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ the one regular
` tobio kageyama ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ secretly dating not really
` kei tsukishima ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. bet
nekoma
` tetsurou kuroo ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ hide and seek
seijoh
` hajime iwaizumi ᯓᡣ𐭩 ₊˚⊹♡ focus!
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duty after school!
' wang tae-man ꩜.ᐟ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. wake up
` kwon ii-ha ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ more than friends
` jo jang-soo ꩜.ᐟ ✧˖° just for you
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assassination classroom!
` karma akabane ᯓ★ ✧˖° you are such an idiot
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maze runner!
nothing yet
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ouran highschool host club!
nothing yet
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the disastrous life of saiki k!
` kokomi teruhashi ᯓ★ ₊˚⊹♡ perfect boy
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across the spider-verse!
` miles morales ᝰ.ᐟ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. other universe
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jujustu kaisen!
` itadori yuji ᯓᡣ𐭩 ✧˖° early morning
` satoru gojo ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ my personal bodyguard ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. pt 2
` suguru geto ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. her assignment
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all of us are dead!
` nam on-jo ᯓ★ ₊˚⊹♡ you look beautiful
` lee cheong-san ᯓ★ ✧˖° crush? on y/n?
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avatar!
nothing yet
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boku no hero academia!
' katsuki bakugou ᯓ★ ₊˚⊹♡ grocery store worker ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. making out together ᯓ★ ✧˖° quirk effect ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. new girl (todoroki and bakugou) ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. pt.2 ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. pt.3 ᯓ★ ₊˚⊹♡ sickness
` shoto todoroki ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. pretty girl ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. new girl (todoroki and bakugou) ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. pt.2 ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. pt.3
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genshin impact!
' childe tartaglia ajax ᝰ.ᐟ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. tsaritsa
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attack on titan!
nothing yet
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one piece (live action) !
nothing yet
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lookism!
nothing yet
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high & low!
nothing yet
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harry potter!
nothing yet
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prince of legend!
nothing yet
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komi can't communicate!
` komi ᯓ★ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋. my parents would kill me if you're not safe
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c0kitty · 1 year ago
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★・・・・・・★
WORKS IN PROGRESSES:
things that’ll be out! <333
wanna be yours, part 1 - katsuki x f!reader; 
description: rockstar!geto got popular from his many heartbreak songs about you, 2 years later he sees you at a bar, and its opportunity he couldn’t pass up.
wanna be yours, part 2 - katsuki x f!reader
after the storm, katsuki stays in your bed.
kiss you right now - sae itoshi x f!reader;
description: you and sae were ultimate rivals, enemies, so how did you end up here, straddling him.
stressed - model!reader x pro soccer player!rin itoshi;
description: rin see’s your cover on the vogue magazine, why did you have to be so pretty.
romanticist - gojo x f!reader;
description: at a ball, a white-haired boy captures your attention.  — wait he’s the prince?
rockstar bitch! - midoriya x reader
description: midoriya with a alt!gf
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