#prince gojo my beloved���

[zevrra]

to be worthy—

syn: just a few small thoughts about a fantasy au ft. prince satoru gojo!! also am planning to turn this into a bigger series at some point…if you enjoy this, check out my other jjk works here <3

thinking about prince!gojo who is the only heir and is known to be a wild child. his parents, who don’t believe he’ll ever find a spouse, arrange a marriage for him.

prince!gojo who doesn’t approve of the marriage at all and doesn’t want to be married or tied down but doesn’t have a choice when his parents present you as his future wife.

prince!gojo who laughs as sweet as the sun but is cold towards you when you first meet. not because he dislikes you, maybe a little, but to spite his parents.

prince!gojo who ends up not wanting to be around you but somehow always finds himself bumping into you.

you sweetly ask prince!gojo if he’d like to take a walk with you one day, end up having a sweet picnic in a field of wild flowers.

prince!gojo who watches as your eyes light up at seeing the valley of flowers. he feels his heart skip a beat but tries his best to ignore it because no, he couldn’t fall for you. he had to continue to upset his parents by remaining single.

prince!gojo who ends up sending you a large bouquet of wild flowers the next day. has the gardeners plant plenty of pretty flowers for you to see every day you take a walk in the grounds.

when you ask prince!gojo why he would do that, he claims you looked a little sad and figured the gardens would help cheer you up. not because he likes you but because he “disliked seeing you upset”.

prince!gojo who ends up falling so in love with you. he tries his hardest to deny every time anyone makes it a point, whether it be him staring at you from across a room or asking for your hand at a dance.

his eyes stare solely at you and even if he tries to keep his distance, it will fail. for prince!gojo knows you have his heart.

[teddybeartoji]

guys... GUUUUUUUUUUUYYSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EEEEEE LOOK AT US:3333333 THIS IS THE BEST THING IN THE WOOOORLDDDD AND I AM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSSEEEDDD!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU AGAIN @yuutaguro FOR THIS MASTERPIECE!!!!!!!! I LOVE IT SO FUCKING MUCH<3333333

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[3seven-gambler]

#⌁꒰You using theiɾ shiɾt ; JJK men꒱

⋆ word count: 1276 ⋆ genre: fluff, suggestive. ⋆ includes: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, higuruma hiromi, toji fushiguro. no specified pronouns. ⋆ a/n: this is my first writing in months, so bear with me pls(╥﹏╥) -~~~reminder that english is not my first language~~~

࿐♡Ꮐꮻꭻꮻ Ꮪꭺꭲꮻꭱꮜ

Gojo had -surprisingly- woken up before you after a rough night you both share. He put on some sweatpants and made his way into the kitchen, deciding on preparing breakfast for both of you. While he was making your favorite dish, he sensed a presence behind him.

-"Good morning, beautiful" he said while turning around to face you. -"How's my princess/prince doing?" he then took complete notice of your choice of clothing that morning, this being one of his shirts, which showed just enough of your body for him to go feral. He could see all the marks he had left the night before all over your tights, as well as some of the marks in your collarbones, marks for only him to see (along with some others that might be for the public eye).

-"Seems you like what you see" you said with a sleepy but teasing voice.

Satoru kept looking at you for a few more seconds. He dropped what he was doing and walked over you, grabbing your face softly with both of his hands. -"You look stunning" he said with a soft smile while giving you small pecks all over your face, and then he gave you a grin -"Maybe I should fuck you more often~"

-"Gojo this is the fifth time we do it in less than two days-"

࿐♡Ꮐꭼꭲꮻ Ꮪꮜꮐꮜꭱꮜ

Geto was reading a book while laying on the bed of your shared bedroom. He was patiently waiting for you to come out of the shower so both of you could cuddle for a while before preparing dinner.

-"Hey, sorry for making you wait" You suddenly say while opening the bathroom door.

Suguru drifts his eyes from the book to your figure, watching as you grab one of his shirts to put above your breath taking body.

-"Don't worry, my love, I don't mind waiting for you." He said while staring at you.

-"Is something wrong?" You said as you take notice of his staring.

-"Mh, no, not at all." He said smiling fondly at you.

You crawl into the bed and Geto leaves the book by his side, turning your way to hold you. You notice how he still has his eyes glued to you. Before you could ask again, he spoke.

-"Maybe I should toss all of your clothes and make you wear mine." he said while softly while caressing your tights. -"But at the same time, if you wear my clothes everyday, I don't think I could hold myself..."

࿐♡Nꭺɴꭺꮇꮖ Ꮶꭼɴꭲꮻ

For Nanami's dislike, he had to go home later than usual. It was Friday, meaning that you and him were going to spend time together. Every weekend you would spend time in each other's houses, and this time it was your turn to stay in Kento's house. He phoned you earlier, telling you that he was going to be late and saying how sorry he was. You brushed him off saying it was ok, that you would make dinner alone for you both. He told you it wasn't necessary, that he could grab some food on his way home but you insisted of making it yourself.

Later on, you went to his house. Opening the door with a spare key he had given you a while ago, you made your way inside. Before starting to cook, you went into Kento's bedroom to get change into more comfortable clothes, but noticed that you haven't brought your pajamas.

-"Oh, what should I use then?" you asked to yourself. You looked up and saw a pile of old shirts that your boyfriend usually uses in the comfort of his house. You smiled mischievously and grabbed the one he uses the most, and then you were ready to start making his favorite dish.

A few hours later, when dinner was almost done, you heard some noise coming from the front door. -"Y/N, I'm here" you heard your beloveds voice.

-"Kento! Hi! I'm in the kitchen!" You said happily.

Nanami quickly made his way into his kitchen where he was greeted not only with an amazing smell coming from the oven but with the most stunning view he had been waiting to see all day. You, all cute in his shirt. Wait, his shirt?

You took notice of this and said -"I'm sorry for this." You said grabbing a bit of the shirt -"I forgot my pajamas at my place so..." You couldn't finish since Kento's lips were on yours.

-"Move in with me." He says in a pleading yet mandatory way.

࿐♡ꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮜꮇꭺ ꮋꮖꭱꮻꮇꮖ

It was late. As it usually happends. And he knew. But he couldn't do much about it. Work has been more troublesome these recent weeks, and all Higuruma could think about was coming home to you. He was more than thankful to have found someone as patient as you, since this is not the first time he comes home late. As he goes inside the house, he calls your name, quickly making his way to the living room. His anxiousness calms down when he sees your angelic sleeping form, hugging a pillow as if your life depended on that. He lets out a soft chuckle and before waking you up he takes full notice of what you were wearing.

-"Of course you grabbed one of my shirts" he said smiling to himself. It isn't the first time he sees you in one, since you had asked him a few times before for his permission to wear one. But every time he sees you wearing his clothes, he gets giddy with excitement.

-"Hmm? Hiro?" You said almost in a whisper.

-"Hello baby, I'm home" He said sitting by your side.

You let go of the pillow you were hugging before and you sat on Higuruma's lap, hugging him instead.

-"I missed you" you said hiding your face against his chest.

-"I missed you too sweety, you have no idea how much I did" he said hugging you back.

࿐♡Ꭲꮻꭻꮖ 𝖥ꮜꮪꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮻ

He told you not to worry about the rain, since he was sure that it wasn't going to drop. The both of you had planned to go out on a date, but it seems that the weather had other plans for you.

-"I'm never trusting you with this again!" You said while running to his place.

All he could do was laugh. When you were both at the entrance of his flat he said -" 's just water, sweetheart"

-"I know that! But I'm all soaked wet and cold!" You said pouting.

-"Mhhm? Is that so?~" he purred into your ear -"I think I can help with that~"

You just push him away from you -"You can help me by giving my dry clothes" you said crossing your arms.

-"Whatever... You can grab something from there" he said pointing to his bedroom.

You went on and opened the wardrobe door. You were about to grab just one of his regular black t-shirt when you notice a white shirt hanging out there, being one of the only -if not the only- white piece of clothing there. You quickly changed and went over where your boyfriend was.

-"Are you going to take a bath?" You asked to get his attention.

-"Yeah, wanna jo-" he stopped talking as soon as he saw you -"Where did you find that?"

-"There" you said pointing to his bedroom as he had done before. -"Do I look good?" You said playfully smiling.

Toji felt no shame as he scanned you from head to toes. He suddenly grabbed you and tossed you on his shoulder. -"T-Toji?! What are you doing?! Put me down!"

"You, me, bath. Now." Is all what he said.

❥ 𝖱𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽. || 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖱𝖤𝖯𝖮𝖲𝖳/𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖭𝖲𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤.

[driaswrld]

🪷 — A ROYAL AFFAIR . . . THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT

LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *

🪷 dearest gentle reader, what is a princess to do when she's caught between two dashing princes, both of which are her childhood friends? — one her betrothed and the other her past love... 4.7k words.

🪷 prince gojo x reader x prince geto jjk regency/royal au, use of regency era terminology, longing and more longing.

🪷 taglist : (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @angelshimaa @yunymphs @todorokies @satocidal @maeby-cursed @rinniessance @cinnabooonn @shegetsburned @starry-grace2 @selfishdoll @shuuennovirche @wishmemel @riaki @yazzzmints @aphroditisxc @gojorbit @izakyun @satoruoo @irisxyphium @zwtari @/lollipop974 @r0ckst4rjk @softgirlgonehaywire @lilvampirina @brianmaysclog

CHAPTER ONE. . . ˚ ༘ *

L'INCOMPARABLE.

Talks of betrothal began in the last Spring of your youth.

Under the cherry blossom trees, you sit in silence, fuchsia petals decorating the length of your hair in messy scatters.

Satoru Gojo, crowned prince and heir to the Gojo throne, picks the fallen remnants of flowers from your hair one by one as the nobles watch on.

Whispers of ‘they would make such a beautiful match’ and ‘look how the Prince dotes on her’ echo in the brush of the gardens, women whispering among themselves and the men chortling between swings of their mallets — in a near deathly game of pall mall.

“Don’t hide from me,” Satoru dips his head, breath fanning the shell of your ear. If possible, the whispers intensify, cutting past your ears and you bite back a giggle, stifling down the thought that crosses your mind, attention whore.

“I’m not hiding, your highness.” You counter, shifting to the side, your smile hidden behind a porcelain teacup, swift sips of ginger warming your cheeks.

“It’s improper, you know.” The words linger in the air between soft wisps of wind, flurries of foreign fabrics and bright layers of skirts pass your vision — and yet, all is drowned out by him.

Your anointed Prince, the attention whore.

“Improper to gaze upon my companion?” Satoru scoffs, grinning wide, toothy, dimples.

Childhood found you both tethered like bee and nectar, always close, always coming back.

At first, it was through duty, sharp tongued ten year old Satoru Gojo, a prince born with a halo and the title of the realm’s strongest to his name, meeting you, the humble princess of the Western kingdom, born in valor and sprouted in pride, a warrior’s code.

It was a disastrous first few encounters—

(—but then he was your bestfriend, and you his. )

His dear mother, bless her soul, had taken the time out to host this marvelous garden party to welcome the newest maidens into their debuts – moreso, to marry Satoru off quicker than he could leave for another battle, chasing another war – and yet, he cared not to meet with any of the women or entertain them beyond an inch of his being.

Not around you, at least.

“You shouldn’t jest about these things—!” A snort leaves your mouth, and whereas the ever uppity ladies of the palace court gawk at you in utter disbelief and mild disgust, Satoru finds himself bellowing a boyish laugh.

That was the last time he’d laugh like that with you, before a warm spring of youth turned to a burning summer, hot with passion, scorched with lust.

THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT.

Dearest gentle reader,

As all royal scandals do,

It started with an invitation.

We cordially invite you to the Gojo palace grounds to celebrate the betrothal of our crowned prince Satoru Gojo and his bride to be [name] [name].

This author finds herself compelled and rather . . . intrigued.

What a match made in heaven! Our beloved Prince Satoru and his most dearest childhood friend!

Your fingers tremble at your sides, the aura that is the strongest permeates your very being. The soft hum of piano keys coupled with string and bow becomes near inaudible – the power Satoru Gojo has on you is like a moth to a flame, lamb to slaughter.

But I assure you,

When it comes to matters of the heart —

Carefully, your feet carry you across the crowded ballroom, mass of bodies parting the instant they catch a glimpse of your eyes – that desperation is familiar in young women like you – and they pity you.

You, who should be above them, who should be the next Queen, the current Princess consort to be.

And yet.

“I’ve told you endlessly, I will take no wife!” Satoru’s voice is a staccato, bouncing off the walls of the vacant corridor adjacent to the ballroom, echoing past your ears.

Dare I say, our beloved crowned Prince

Is not the strongest.

“Some nerve you have, boy.”

Satoru’s father, the King, is a stoic man.

You’ve come to know this well in your youth. He rules firm and his word remains law. By no means is he the strongest or possesses any more battle capacity than that of any other noble, but he remains a political stronghold.

And his grip over his family — his subjects, remains unwavering.

“I don’t care for your affairs or your crown,” Satoru’s gaze remains hard, even as he meets his father’s ire in tow, and in such a barely secluded place too. “Let one of your bastards have it, my place is on the battlefield doing what you are too cowardly to.”

Your mind runs rampant, palms pressed against the cold wall concealing your presence.

You wonder what Satoru might be thinking — if he’d be so foolish as to forsake his lineage and do away with his duty, if he’d give up simply because his fate was not his choice — he wouldn’t.

No, Satoru is good and kind, and he would see this kingdom to a new realm of peace just with his bare hands alone.

“And that is all? You wish to do away with it simply because it does not suit your childish desires? I have given you everything! And the one thing I ask of you—”

You still yourself at the near animalistic growl that leaves Satoru’s lips.

“She will never be Queen.”

It cuts through you like blades of grass, familiar, scratching at your skin softly, pinpricks of green drawing blood from your calves.

It reminds you of when you were younger, more naive and susceptible to the follies of men and matters of the heart.

“Who’ll marry you if you spend your days swinging a sword and broadening your shoulders?”

“Aren’t there girls your age you can follow around? I don’t care if you’re a princess, we’re not friends.”

“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d ever want to court you.”

Three months, thirteen days.

Your betrothal has long exceeded and broken the record of engagement wait time.

Most women would be married within the same month of betrothal, the longest and most respectable wait time being a month and a half, only due to cases of overdue dowry payments.

Three million dollars was your reverse dowry.

Paid directly from the royal treasury to your father, and four million dollars paid in return. That was how much yours and Satoru’s hands were worth to your families, a testament to the weight you’d both bear by wearing a crown.

Except, you hadn’t been crowned yet. Or married for that matter.

“—summer solstice hunt!” It’s Yuji who exclaims, voice filled with childlike wonder. Recently knighted by Satoru himself and a renowned protege of the Kingsguard, the boy is eager to please. “Who will you cast your bets on, your grace?”

The confines of Satoru’s private study function as a meeting room for idle chatting — he leaves the letters to his advisors when they are of little importance.

Or discards them entirely when he has company, like now.

You sink deeper into the cushioned seat, Satoru’s arm draped over the back of your chair. A tuft of snowy hair falls over his forehead and he breathes a chuckle, your weight curling in on itself with every rise and fall of his chest.

why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don't you want me

“It’s out of question to bet on one’s self, no?” Satoru chuckles and it earns a cackle from Yuji, who, despite himself, has already casted his own bet on his annointed Prince. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone’s head bigger than it ought to be.”

The summer and winter solstice brings with it two separate ceremonial festivals — the hunt being the most anticipated due to its cutthroat competition among nobles and peasants alike.

That, and the prize.

The winner of the hunt, the man or woman to capture the famed primordial stag — which is really a regular stag trained and bred to elude even the most skilled knights — would be rewarded a grand jewel from the Queen’s vault.

Gentle reader,

The famed jewel for the taking

This summer, is none other than—

“I’ve placed my bet on you,” you comment plainly with a shrug and Yuji beams.

It isn’t unlike you to root for one of Satoru’s proteges, the ones fairly skilled and new to knighthood – you’ve always found yourself cheering for the peonies in a garden full of roses — the underdogs full of potential . . .

Satoru glances over to you, and for a second you miss how his gaze lingers.

“You’re too kind, Princess…” Yuji sighs, near dreamily. “I will no doubt do well now that I have your favor on my side.”

( losing dogs, satoru wants to say. all you ever do is bet on losing dogs. )

“You have her bet, not her favor.” Satoru scoffs dramatically before you can even think to lend Yuji your well wishes. “It isn’t something given, it’s something won. And from a maiden, not a Princess consort.”

She’s spoken for, is all you hear though.

There’s an air of uncertainty that passes between you and Satoru that only thickens with your closeness.

A pale palm curls around the cross rail of the back of your chair and you lean into his touch subconsciously – it’s warm, secure – he’s saying, I have your favor, don’t I? Tell me I do.

—The champion’s jewel,

A wraith necklace fit for a Queen.

The L’Incomparable.

“Nevertheless, you have my good faith.” You interject, followed by a sharp inhale, and you stand abruptly from your seat. Satoru’s hand falls to his side. He knows what you're thinking.

Three months, thirteen days.

You’ve sat by and watched Satoru deny you marriage – his excuse, that he’s waiting for his coronation first – you’ve watched him continue to entertain the women around him like he’s done since he was merely a squire, plastering a smile on his face from this glass castle he calls home.

He’s close, but never too close. Stringing you on then letting you loose— it’s routine.

It’s eerily similar to your childhood.

“Yuji,” Satoru speaks, soft yet firm. The young boy is on his feet immediately and offers a swift bow to his majesty, handing his service in tow to the call. “Leave us.” Satoru commands, and just as swiftly as he came, Yuji is bowing to you and exiting through the study doors.

L’Incomparable.

The largest internally flawless diamond in the kingdom and the most expensive chain sitting in the Queen’s vault currently, worth eight billion dollars alone.

Allegedly, it was handcrafted as a gift from an ancient Gojo king to his mistress — whom he had knighted and sent off to fight in the war at her wishes once their affair had been brought to light and scrutinized.

A gift he only got to place on her corpse.

Even in death, he loved her. More than he loved his own wife and Queen.

And though many attempts had been made to destroy the necklace, it remains near indestructible.

“Something troubles you.” Satoru murmurs the moment the door clicks shut. His gaze remains strained forward on your form, from where you fiddle with the frayed hem of your gown, back turned to him.

“I simply think of the prospects of the hunt,” you retort. “There are many promising young competitors traveling to partake— I fear my Prince would simply be. . . thwarted, is all.”

L’Incomparable is not a jewel of love.

It's a sickening story of a woman who loved a man who could not love her back in the way she deserved.

A woman who took what she was given, secret meetings, hushed whispers and fleeting gazes.

And when he did, finally love her back wholly and ardently, unable to bury it behind a locked door in the dungeon he called a heart — she was already gone.

“You doubt me?” Satoru’s voice is closer now, and you wonder when he even stood up – if he'd been taking small steps toward you the entire time.

“No.” It leaves your mouth like a prayer, an oath, worship. Every ounce of confidence you have is in him. He has protected you, kept you, safeguarded your sanity and treated you with grace— “Never that.”

( —he is your friend. nothing more than that. )

He exhales, and you hear the faint sound of a swallow, the click of his tongue. Your ear feels hot with the proximity, yet, he inches closer still.

“Will you give this to me, then?” He whispers, faint, uncertain — almost desperate.

And you turn, faces inches apart, breath mingling. “What is it you wish of me, my Prince?” Your pupils dilate.

“Your Prince,” Satoru repeats, like it knocked the wind out of him. It's a common way to address the monarch, you’ve said it before as have others. “. . . asks for your favor in the upcoming hunt.”

He keeps his hands folded behind him, curled into fists and trembling. Your Prince. Yours. Yours.

He’s a gentleman. He was raised right.

This urge—

( you’re his friend. his advisor. his confidant. this is not what he wants. )

The urge to strip you down to nothing but your chemise, lay you on his desk and hike your legs over his hips, show you things you’ve only seen in dreams or read in books — like he’s done to so many women before — he promises himself he’s not a rake, he’s just a man, but when you look at him like that and say his title so softly—

( it will pass. )

“Then,” your breath slows as he steps forward, so easily leaving you pressed back against the hardwood desk, caged by him. “I will grant my Prince my favor.”

Satoru watches in earnest, places his hands on either side of you on the desk as you remove one of your gloves.

Pure white, pearl decor, lace trim.

He would've laughed if he wasn't so enthralled by such a simple thing. Satoru wants to pull the other glove off with his teeth.

“I’ll return it to you,” he says, a promise. He takes the glove as you hand it to him, leaning forward and chasing the remnants of your fingertips against his once you pull away. “When I win.”

( and maybe then, you’ll understand i am devoted to you, wholly and utterly, if only in these moments and never again. )

There's a knock at the door, brief and soft. A maid, come to drop off another stack of letters.

And just as quickly as Satoru had found himself against you, he’s across the room, opening the door.

As if you had never been there.

The only evidence that he had even touched you is the lace cupped in his palm, middle and index tracing over a minute pearl.

L’Incomparable is a jewel of longing.

Morrow brings with it the beginning of joyous festivities.

You woke to another trousseau. This time, from a distant cousin in the Easternmost kingdom.

Attached was a letter of the newest development in her love life – said development being a defected knight nonetheless.

It made you giggle.

The palace corridors are bustling with life.

Servants and attendants eager to welcome early visitors who have come for the summer solstice, robust back and forth on decorations and food and gossip and many a’ things outside the realm of possibility to be discussed in one sitting.

Your lady in waiting, Areta, whom you’ve known since your youth, creeps into your room with a grin as wide as a war banner – you immediately assume the worst, mischief is your pastime but you fear the poor girl takes ‘eavesdropping on court gossip’ to another level.

“My lady, you would not believe—” Areta huffs, journeying to sit with you on the balcony, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. “The things I’ve heard today!”

“You hear things everyday, I fear.” You indulge her, as always. And she begins to talk your ear off, all in good faith of course.

Down below in the courtyard, is the sound of smacking wood and the occasional chorus of baritone conversation.

Satoru, who should be attending treaty meetings with his father, bides his time sparring on the cobblestone with the other men of the Kingsguard – the noise wakes you most mornings.

“—talking to Julietta, you know? The girl who attends to the countess? And she said—”

You hum along to Areta’s words, eyes peering over the edge of the balcony, gaze fixed on the crown Prince.

His snowy hair is damp with sweat, Victorian style dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, every swing of his wooden sword causes a commotion — muscles in his back flexing under the sunlight, so easily seen beneath the thin white fabric.

“—that her lady told her that she heard from a cousin-in-law who works at the docks that—”

You wonder what expression Satoru has as he pummels through his underlings playfully, hardly sparring but more play fighting. You imagine he’s grinning wide, crystalline blue eyes shimmering with glee—

“—that Prince Geto is coming for the hunt!”

You choke. Audibly.

Areta is quick to shut her mouth and lend you a concerned gaze. “Princess, are you—”

“I’m alright.” You wave a hand, catching your breath. Prince Geto. If you think about it too hard, you fear your chest might burst open and spill out your insides.

Oh, fair reader, it seems

Our dear protagonist has come upon

A treasure trove of memories.

“You were, ehem, saying?” You twirl your index finger in the air as if to prompt a rewind. “About. . .”

Areta raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. “About Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law?” The girl questions, dim.

“No!” You interject immediately, twirling your finger in the other direction. Fast forward. “The other thing— the thing you heard!”

“Oh, about Prince Geto!”

Dearest reader,

Suguru Geto enters.

A man of great mystique,

the northern Prince.

And striking opposite of

our beloved crowned Prince Satoru.

“Yes! About him—”

Suguru Geto.

In many ways you could say he was Satoru’s best friend, his greatest rival and worst enemy all at the same time.

Through solstice events, formal gatherings and other royal duties, the same way you met Satoru, you met Suguru through him.

“Well, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law works at the docks,” Areta begins again, regrettably. “You know? The private harbor where all the spirit and wheat shipments come in, but that's besides the point—”

( suguru was your bestfriend too. in every way it counted. )

“Areta.” You coo, coaxing her to get back to the main point. Why was Suguru coming for the summer solstice hunt? After being away in the North for so long, why now?

The only correspondence you’d had with him was a few letters years ago. And then he stopped writing.

“So, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law saw the Geto family's ship dock in the private harbor!” The girl exclaims hushedly and you hum to yourself, curious.

Rightfully, you’d hold a grudge about never hearing from Suguru.

But in this moment, you feel no resentment or hurt. Instead, excitement that you might see your old friend once more.

And maybe, you, Suguru and Satoru could spend the summer solstice together— just like old times.

( and that’d be enough to get rid of the heat in your chest when satoru gets too close to you. )

Faithful reader,

she could not have been

more wrong.

Four days remain until the summer solstice hunt.

Satoru is scarce around the palace in preparation for his coronation coming soon and treaty arrangements.

You, on the other hand, have exhausted all your hobbies, biding your idle time helping the other ladies at court pick their gowns for tomorrow's feast — the first of seven nightly ones during the solstice.

Another trousseau is delivered to your chambers when you wake.

This time, you’re taken aback.

Instead of an elaborate stack of gifts, a box of jewelry or even a scandalous collection of seductive corsets and nightgowns to remind you of your predicament—

There's a long wooden box, coupled with a sealed parcel.

Inside the box is a beautiful gown, deep burgundy and shapely. Fitted with a low bust cut and short sleeves. It's a mouth watering dress, one you would've bought yourself if you even knew it existed.

But you've never seen a dress designed like this before, down to the intricate details of the underskirts and the hemming.

It's almost intimate.

When you finally open the parcel, you expect a note, but there's none. Instead, inside is a pair of black silk gloves, so smooth it melts in your palms – your mind immediately goes to Satoru and the glove he still holds hostage for you.

You don't think twice before telling Areta that this is what you’ll be wearing to tomorrow’s feast.

( you ought to thank satoru for this gift by wearing it, no? )

˚ ༘ *

The lights in the dining hall are dimmed perfectly to match the moonlight.

When you slip in from the adjacent corridor, greeting visiting nobles and residents of the palace court alike, a sense of nausea floods the pit of your stomach – what will Satoru say when he sees you? Will he like how the dress looks – or rather how you look in it?

Wait, why do you even care?

You’ve never really cared for these things— it must be the tea you had earlier. You nearly feel faint.

Darling reader,

it was in fact,

not the tea.

Your thoughts don't get the chance to linger very long, as the soft hum of music slows to a halt, and everyone begins journeying to their assigned seats.

Naturally, you fiddle with your gloves, not wanting to sit down at the second table yet.

One, it would be very impudent of a lady of your caliber to be seated without a proper escort by a gentleman.

And two, even though you did decline the few men who asked to escort you, you can't help the anxiety that floods your veins when you begin to realize that so many people are sitting already and you're not!

Sure, you're a Princess, but can't a girl be a little shy?

( not that you were waiting for satoru or anything of course. )

Devoted reader,

our protagonist

is in denial.

“It pains me to see such a beautiful lady left unaccompanied.” A voice flits past your ears, so close you can taste it on your tongue — incense, sandalwood.

( oh god, no. )

Your body turns in an instant, almost too quick, and your underskirts almost trip you as the weight sends you wobbling forward.

“Easy—” Suguru Geto’s arm darts out to curl around your waist, steadying you.

“You're here—” “You’re still clumsy—”

The both of you lock eyes at your shared unison of speech, then chuckle to yourselves.

You let your eyes wander over his features, how much he's grown over these past years.

He’s still as ethereal as the royal painters would describe. Prince Geto, the joy to paint, once in an era type beauty, born to be depicted in art, they’d say.

You don't doubt that.

“You look well,” you say. Suguru glances down at you and shakes his head, as if that is too much of a compliment for him to take. “No, honestly— I don't tease, you look very. . . stately.”

“Are you trying to call me old in a polite way, my lady?” He feigns offense, tilting his head to the side a little. You cover your mouth to laugh.

You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your gloves.

( oh, the gloves ! )

“Your highness,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, half teasing, half regal, and you give a brief curtsy, which he counters with a swift bow. “Would you do me the pleasure?” You grin, extending your hand to him.

Suguru — never Prince Geto, not to you at least — had been your solace, your comfort and your refuge.

The greatest friend you could have asked for in your youth.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Suguru whispers, taking your hand in earnest, escorting you over to the table and pulling your chair out for you — settling himself in the seat across from you, on the other side of the table.

( what a coincidence. )

˚ ༘ *

Time passes in waves.

People are whispering, no doubt. As they always do about you. No matter how hushed, you always hear them.

‘Look at the poor Princess consort, sitting beside an empty chair.’

‘You’d think she’d refer to herself as Lady now instead of Consort—’

‘To think even a Princess is not immune from such things. . .’

‘These things happen when you're sold off to a future King.’

“Bitter.”

Your head snaps up at the sound, dessert fork halting mid stab into your slice of cake.

Suguru’s eyes meet yours, as if he’d been looking at you the entire time, like he reads your thoughts as his own.

The people sitting at the table alongside you both fix their attention on him, the whispers halting.

“The cake,” he leans back in his chair, shrugging strands of his hair out of his face, looking down the length of the table at the spectators, nonchalant. “It's terribly bitter.”

You think you’d open your mouth to scold him a little, to not joke about what people say, royals should never engage in such petty gossip – but instead, you smile in gratitude.

( bitter. everybody's so bitter in this place. )

“That's quite unfortunate.” A familiar voice rings out, your fork sliding out of your hand to rest on the edge of your plate. “I hoped it would be rather sweet tonight.”

When you look over your shoulder, Satoru is already at your side, bending a knee and outstretching an open palm to you. “My Princess.”

He looks. . . disheveled.

Not completely out of order, it's something so small — so minute that only those who know him well would be able to point it out. From the crease of his vest to the shaky rasp in his voice—

And the woman in your peripheral stumbling back into the dining hall from the garden entrance on shaky legs. . .

( so that's what he was doing. )

“Your grace,” leaves your lips in a whisper and he kisses the back of your palm before sinking into his seat.

The way he presses his middle finger against his bottom lip like he’d been burned by the silk makes you raise an eyebrow. Does he not even have the common courtesy of pretending to like the gloves he gifted?

“I’m pleased you took time out of your busy schedule for us regular people.” Suguru chuckles, and Satoru’s mother, sitting near you all at the head table seems far from pleased.

“Well, a small act of kindness goes a long way.” Satoru parries and you force a smile, stabbing your dessert once more. “Especially for someone as regular as you, Prince Suguru.”

If you had initially thought this would be a quaint rekindling of an old childhood friendship, you never felt more wrong than in this moment — the air settles thick between you three.

“Isn't the future King Gojo just so kind?” Suguru addresses you, and you swallow, stifling your laugh.

“I pray for your marriage. . .” One of the Dukes seated at the table jests, to which you fiddle with the hem of your dress, the burgundy falling over your palms as a chorus of laughter ensues.

Marriage.

Suguru notices your gaze on him – or rather far away – and he smiles to snap you out of it. “Lady name?”

Just then Satoru’s hand reaches for yours under the table, halting your fiddling with the fabric, his grip steady and soft.

“Princess Consort.” Satoru interjects with a flat lipped smile, which could be perceived as kind, but to Suguru. . . “She changed titles.”

When was the last time someone called you by your name and not Princess consort? Always that. Not even Princess name.

“Pardon me,” you mumble beneath your breath, your grip on your dress going slack. You shrug your hand free from Satoru’s grip, abandoning your seat in an instant.

Satoru rises from his chair only four seconds afterward.

“Name—” he calls to you, following you out of the dining hall and down a vacant corridor.

Your footsteps evade him as he chases after you wide steps.

But he stops dead in his tracks when he hears you slam the door to an empty side room shut.

My dearest reader,

brace yourself for the

next publication.

Your kind author

bids you farewell.

[saturngas]

gallery full of you

[🪐] scenarios of gojo's developing obsession of taking pictures of you after a heated session.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: established relationship; big cock gojo; size kink; lewd usage of the phone camera; creampie; breeding kink; p in v; blowjob; my attempt at dirty talk;

word count: 3.2k

...

..

someone's digital gallery was part of their privacy. some people don’t mind showing off their gallery, as they claim they have nothing to hide or be ashamed of. some other people do mind and prefer to even have a password lock to open the gallery app.

some people, like satoru gojo, simply don’t care. if it were up to him, he would exhibit his gallery in a museum, which would be named after you of course, because that's all his gallery is full of. 

hundreds of pictures of his beloved girlfriend, dozens of pictures of his precious of students, and just a couple of pictures of his old friends. 

you were the star in the majority of them. from the early stages of your relationship, to a photo he took just the night before of you in his sweatshirt. 

satoru loved taking pictures of everything around him: a beautifully made strawberry milkshake, you in a new dress, a bee pollinating a flower, a beaten up megumi, yuji with snort coming off his nose, you in your worst angles, a sleeping nanami with a piece of cheese on his forehead. 

many of them were innocent, safe to work, sinless. but the hidden album sitting at the bottom of his gallery app said otherwise. 

numerous pictures, videos, live photos of you in such lewd situations were adorning such obscene album. your face being the cover of most photos, however your shiny skin would also be in repeated media. 

he certainly had developed a habit of taking pictures of you before, during, and after sexy times. your fucked up face making his softening cock stand back up. he loved it. and you loved the attention he gave you. 

and oh how much he would abuse of such dirty album when you were away. either your boyfriend was in a mission overseas or you were out of town, he would often feel alone, his fist running down his sculpted abs while his long fingers danced around the screen, finding a photo or video to jerk off to. 

it had started as an innocent picture taken after one of your first make out sessions. your tall boyfriend wanted to capture the moment forever, engraving it infinitely in the memory of his phone. 

you two were sitting on the couch, both your legs on top of satoru's lap while your arms surrounded his neck, short nails caressing his baby hairs. 

two pairs of blue eyes looked at you with such love and devotion you were feeling your face heat up even more. you noticed the smeared lipstick on your boyfriend's flush lips and you giggled. 

"what's so funny, princess?" he smirked. 

"mmh, nothing, prince charm," you returned the smirk while tucking a few strands of white hair behind his red ear. "it's just my lipstick that's all over your face."

"oh?" satoru dramatically faked a gasp. "are you sure it's yours, sweet cheeks? mmm, could be mine, I use cherry flavored," he joked while taking one of his hands off your waist and stroking his thick thumb over your lips, ruining the little rest of your remaining lipstick. 

"toru stooop," another giggle escaped your mouth while you pushed his larger hand away. you grabbed the glossy lipstick from the table and applied it on, using satoru's black glasses to see your reflection. 

as soon as you finished, your mouth went flying to your boyfriend's face, loud kisses pressing on his rosy cheeks and corners of his lips. the tall man couldn't help but letting out a fit of boyish snickers while tightening his grip on your waist. 

his mouth would chase after yours before you would kiss another area of his pretty face, leaving no place untouched. until your lips finally landed on his.

colored lips painting smeared ones. you would swallow the agitated moans from your boyfriend, who couldn't stop his hands from roaming through your entire upper body and legs. wet sounds coming from your twirling tongues and spit-coated lips touching each other. 

satoru's mouth opened slightly, giving you space to explore his wet cavity with your muscle, the position you were in helping you hold onto his face to let your tongue work. 

after exchanging such quantities of saliva, you finally pulled away as satoru's whines filled your ears. 

"that was so hot, muffin' cake... got my dick all hard," he panted and you blew him a kiss while caressing his pretty face. you wanted to eat him. 

"you look pretty with my lipstick all around your face, toru," you placed a small smooch on the tip of his nose. 

your boyfriend could only grin wider as his hand went flying to his packet to grab his phone, opening the camera app to see himself on the screen. 

his usually wan skin was all pink. pale pink from his overspreading blush and a glittering magenta pink from your lip gloss. 

he couldn't help but snap a picture of himself and then two more of you in frame. one with you jutting out your kiss bitten lips while grabbing his chin. the other from a high angle where your entire bodies were displayed, his other hand grabbing firmly your waist while your arms were again around his neck, a big smile on both of your flushed faces. 

as your walls were clenching around satoru’s aching cock, the only thing on his mind was how good you made him feel. your warm face displayed on his view as you sat below him, your body moving at the rhythm of his hammering thrusts. 

"ah ah ah, toru," you panted while repeating his name like a mantra. the filthy aroma coming from the drying cum on your inner thighs filled your nostrils. satoru had already came on you once, and he was going big with a second one and probably a third one. 

"yeah, yeah... you take it, baby, c'mon, I know you can take another one," you could only tighten your grip around his length at his words, making him crunch his face cutely and moan loudly. 

you grabbed his biceps in a hurting hold when he increased his speed, pounding and beating your poor pussy, as if making sure his cock went all the way up your lungs. his mushroom tip caressing deliciously your cervix, his throbbing veins kissing your overly sensitive inner walls, the perfect curve of his lengthy cock molding your vagina in a way that made you wheeze. 

a pair of big hands grasped your waist tightly to kept you from moving so violently from his brutal pace. you enclosed your legs around satoru's narrow waist, although you could barely keep them up from the heavenly pleasure and the heat forming at your core. 

greedy pussy tensing impossibly snug around inches of delicious cock once you let your orgasm take over you. satoru let out one of the filthiest moans you had ever heard as you pussy claimed him. his full balls thudding against your ass cheeks, ready to expulse the cum inside you. 

"c'mon baby, give it to me, come inside me," you breathlessly pleaded as your hands moved to his nape, taking him closer to your face. "cum for me, my pretty boy," you kissed his rosy nose. 

satoru cried out loud as he felt his knot untie, becoming abruptly stiff to let his creamy liquid fill you again. your hands held his cheeks, his long white lashes touched his hot cheeks while his pretty lips kept letting out whines and small gasps. his long eyebrows furrowed at the luscious bliss he was feeling. satoru had such a beautiful orgasm face. 

as he came down, he started moving slowly, pushing his cum inside you even more. 

"oh baby cakes, that was so good..." he kept writhing slightly on top of you, trying not to collapse completely on you. "I love you so much."

you kissed lovingly his nose again and then pecked his lips. "I love you too, toru." 

once the big man above you deigned to sit up and take his softening dick off you, he eyed the sinful scene in front of him. your pussy hole was stretched out from his unkind girth, though it was mostly covered and spilling out his loads of his creamy sauce. your bruised lips painted in white and your inner thighs masked with love bites and marks from his previous foreplay. 

"look at you, sugar plum," satoru's ghost touch danced around your thighs and near your crotch, finally placing his large hand on your belly as he grabbed his phone. "I need to capture this moment, I don't know when I'll be able to see you like this again."

"you say it as if we didn't have sex like three times a week," you deadpanned as one of your hands went to your leg to keep it from slightly trembling after such intense session. your other hand intertwined itself with satoru's one laying on your belly. 

"may I?" his blue eyes pleaded as he raised his phone, showing you the camera app icon. you nodded a bit sheepishly. this was a new little fixation your boyfriend was developing so you weren't used to it yet. "thank you, baby. you look incredibly good."

even though you averted your gaze, the flickering flashlight made you crook your neck, seeing your unduly excited boyfriend taking multiple photos from different angles, moving your legs to get a better shot and even placing the tip of his hardening cock at your entrance. 

another picture of his favorites resembled the moment you gave him one of the craziest and sloppiest heads you have given him. 

it had been a day you were feeling hot the moment you rose from bed, probably due to some ovulation occurring inside your body. or perhaps it was the pretty face and angel eyes of your boyfriend on your wallpaper that made you agitated. 

either way, you assaulted your boyfriend the moment he walked in your shared apartment, approaching him with a sly smirk and wondering hands that went straight to his fat tits and sculpted abs. your lips enveloped his in a heated make up session, your hands unable to leave his body and his hands gripping your waist and hips, gripping your ass furiously. 

you swayed your hips along his until he was pushed onto the couch, manspreading automatically, making his lap deadly inviting. 

“feeling eager, aren’t we?” he grinned coyly while you made your way between his muscular thighs, your hands dancing through his lap. his larger hands moved anxiously as they removed his uniform jacket and the expensive undershirt, leaving his burly upper body exposed to the chilly inside breeze, rosy nipples perking up. 

“sorry baby, you just look so… delicious right now,” you mumbled between agitated breaths as your lips left open kisses on his abs, slender fingers playing with the waistband of his pants. 

“don’t ever apologize for something like this, cookie pie,” satoru’s hands played with your hair; messy locks falling on your face were rapidly pulled out by his thick digits. 

you giggled softly at his sudden aroused state, your voice making the hardening length beneath you twitch. it jumped so violently that it tickled your collarbone, as you were still focused on his abdomen, your chest was met with his hot crotch. 

“princess…” satoru moaned softly as one of your fingers played with his hard nipple, your lips trailing down his happy trail. “you can’t make me this hot the moment i come home and do too much foreplay,” he wanted to shove your pretty face down his dick already, stretching the muscles around your lips. 

a smirk locked itself on your face at his words. your hands finally daring to lower his pants along with his underwear. satoru lifted his hips to help you. and just like that, his pretty enlarged cock sprung out almost hitting your face. 

the moment your hand gripped the base, satoru let out a long satisfying sigh, his hands lightly encouraging you to get closer to his length. 

you started pumping his cock up and down, smearing his pre-cum on his head down the length of his cock. your mouth salivated at the sight of the pretty cock in front of you, several inches of thick meat, a red needy head, and two pair of heavy balls. they all were waiting for your warm tongue to embrace them. 

the more you jerked him off, the more liquid exited his mushroom head. to add more natural lubricant and make it easier to fist his cock, you spit on it. viscous blob glittered satoru’s length all the way down his full balls. 

eager hand pumping him and tugging occasionally at his tip, drawing loud moans and whines from satoru. once your lips kissed his red tip, large hands nudged you into his cock, feeling a stinging sensation in your lip corners from the heavy stretch of his thick member. 

“oh yeah… yeah… huff, just like that…” you could hear your boyfriend’s pants once your head started moving, recreating the same rhythm of your hand. bobbing your head up and down, letting his tip caress the deep of your throat, relaxing your muscles so it could reach deeper. satoru had such a long dick that was always a challenge to suck, though it was delicious. 

“i love your mouth so much… it feels so warm, you are so perfect for my cock…” he cursed under his breath as you hummed, vibrations causing his cock to shoot various amounts of pre-cum, which went straight down your esophagus. “yeah just like that schnookums,suck my soul off.” 

you hollowed your cheeks to apply pressure to his thick cock, sucking him while using one of your hands to pump the inches your mouth couldn’t reach. your other hand massaged his balls, which were damp with your spit and his pre-cum. the pubic hairs belonging to his sexy happy trail were wet just as much. 

“baby, baby, baby,” satoru huffed repeatedly as his massive hands tugged at your hair, one of them cupping your chin. that was the signal that your boyfriend was nearing to his release. 

however just as you were about to focus solely on his thick sensitive head, a flash blinded you for a second. your eyes looking up at satoru grinning widely between heavy breaths, his phone held high in his hand. 

“smile for the camera, princess, you look incredibly gorgeous with my cock in your mouth,” another flash on your face as satoru took a live picture, which also captured the intense release of cum spilling from his tip. a groan escaped his rosy lips as the palm on your cheek urged your mouth to open wider to take his cream. your hand stroking him tightly to extract the remaining droplets of cum. 

satoru cursed breathlessly as his thumb unconsciously kept pressing the button, snapping pictures of your mouth full of his white liquid, lips just as white. 

countless of pictures of your ass and tits adorned satoru's hidden album. they were his favorite to take, positioning his phone camera in a certain angle to make your ass and his cock stand out. most of the tits pics on his gallery were initially sent from you to him, saving them immediately to his device and going straight to his hidden album. 

it had become an habit for satoru to yank out his phone when he was pounding you from behind, your ass glowing from the constant sweat. 

massive palms holding your hips firmly as he was hypnotized by the sizable stretch of your pussy, fat cock disappearing into a pair of swollen lips. your arms were aching from holding your upper body, opting better to give up and plump over the expensive sheets. 

"what happened, muffin? already feeling tired?" you heard the teasing voice of your boyfriend from behind, the raspy sounds going straight to your core where your orgasm was building. "if i remember correctly, you were the one claiming for going for multiple rounds," he panted as his thrusts were becoming a bit erratic. 

the side of your face was glued to the mattress, as your spine arched even more at the pressure of his mushroom head hitting your sweet spots. whines and incoherent mumbling could only leave your mouth. 

one of his large hands began messaging your bum, squeezing at the fat of your hips, as it continued its way down your bent back, caressing your hot skin. his long fingers tracing the curve of your waist and rubbing the underside of your boob. 

you weren't quite sure what it was, but the coil holding up your release unraveled at the soft feelings of satoru's big hands on your back. your own hands snugly gripped the sheets underneath you as you came, kiss bitten lips agape, and eyes tightly shut. 

"ohh baby..." the tall man choke at the tightening of your walls around his enlarged cock, crushing his throbbing length. "fuck you are so goddamn tight..." he struggled to breathe as his oxygen-deprived brain filled with endorphins, wishing nothing more than to live this moment over and over again. your own moans and mewls claiming his consciousness. 

just as he used all six eyes to scan the messy room, his gaze landed on his phone laying on the night stand. the hand stroking your spine sprinted to grab his phone. you watched him through lidded eyes as he strove to open his camera app, fingers moving anxiously as mind-blowing pleasure took control of his muscles. 

rapture was threatening to break him apart, hard cock hammering your puffy pussy, small gasps leaving your mouth at each thrust. 

the clicking sound coming from satoru's phone buzzed distorted, you were certain you were at the verge of passing out from the overstimulation from the slamming. 

satoru was about to take the fifth picture of your ass eating up his cock as he felt his belly whorl, hips becoming rigid as his balls tightened, hard cock resenting the blasting pressure of his release. a loud moan coming from your boyfriend rushed to your ears as you felt his warm creamy liquid paint your insides.

after gaining composure from such luscious discharge, satoru kept snaping pictures of your ass, especially taking a series of continuous pictures of him withdrawing his big cock. white creaming his cock as viscous leakage oozed off your stretched hole. 

"these pictures are going straight to the fav album," satoru cursed under his breath. once he was fully out of you, your limp body collapsed over the bed. his strong arms twirled you around, raising chest now facing the ceiling. you were so fucked out, about to lose consciousness and allow serenity flow over your dilated veins. 

"fuck sugarplum, you look heavenly," satoru said softly, his fingers clicking once more on the snap button. "thank you so much for allowing me to capture this moment forever, im simply a lamb next to you, goddess..."

your sprawled body, nipples hardened due to the chill air, belly full of satoru's cum, white-painted leaking pussy, and your cock-drunk face made such perfect wallpaper in satoru's mind, he couldn't waste this opportunity to snap a few more pictures of you. 

after all, his gallery was actually yours, since your body and face occupied most of it. 

taglist: @snwvie @fanficsforkicks @soulaires <3

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

@softgirlgonehaywire

The dynamic that could have been-

[neo-nomatrix]

The Head of Aphrodite

Aphrodite!Gojo x Ares!reader

word count: 1072

summary: You, goddess of war, go into battle with your beloved, god of love.

banners by: @cafekitsune and @saradika

warnings: idk historical inaccuracies? i tried to follow some parts of the iliad. i was originally gonna do this with aphrodite!reader and ares!gojo (or toji) but this happened. coercion by gojo. uhh gods fight mortals??? idk i needed an excuse to put them into battle and realized that it doesn’t make sense in the middle of writing

You betrayed your own mother for your beloved.

Since the beginning your mother and you had sided with the Greeks during the Trojan war. Your mother despised the Trojans. After Paris, the prince of Troy, had said Gojo was more beautiful than her. Although you agreed, she was still your mother. Yet, you were only in love with one. Gojo Satoru, God of beauty and love, the most gorgeous being through the living and the dead.

“Please, my love,” Satoru begged from beneath you.

He often did this, groveling at your feet at any chance he could get. You’re sat on your throne, a beautiful creation made of leather, metal, and skulls. It’s a drastic difference from your dark demeanor to Satorus constant beam of light following him. Your skin is adorned in your armor, face resting on your hand in boredom. His white tunic slips off his shoulder as you look down at him, revealing a chest chiseled by Pygmalion. His skin glowing radiance. He caresses your bare legs in his arms, kissing up your calves and thighs. Whispering sweet nothings to you, in hopes of convincing you.

“My loyalty is supposed to lie with the Greeks, you know this, my love,” you say back.

“No. Your loyalty lies with me,” Satoru says back, his eyes turning suddenly dark before shifting back to his mesmerizing blue ones.

“My mother would-“ you begin before Satoru cuts you off.

“To hell with Hera! She only wants you on the side of the Greeks because the Trojans worship me instead of her. You really believe she is worth more than me? Your lover?” He begs, voice almost whimpering in despair.

“What do they have to offer me?” You ask.

“Brutality. The Trojans are men of war! They will not rest until the battle is done, they are true soldiers,” The God says, knowing you would take a liking to a barbaric nature.

“You’ll be fighting by my side, my goddess,” He continued.

“Joining the Trojans would be joining the losing side. I only win,” you argue with him.

“why must you be so difficult?” Satoru thinks to himself.

“You would rather fight against me? Is that how you see me, my dearest?” He says, knowing it will push your buttons.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” you say, irritated by him.

“But you did! You would rather fight with me, your lover, the god who is the reason for all your pleasure, because it means you would win a war that doesn’t even matter to us!” He reasons.

“Satoru, you started the war! You are insufferable, i’m beginning to actually want to fight against you,” Your fuse is about to blow.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Satoru muses at you.

He begins to make his way up your body from his pathetic position. Slowly touching your body, from your ankles up to your face. He presses soft, pleasuring kisses, to every part of your body he can reach. He easily finds the sweet spots on your neck and teases at them.

“Join me, my goddess. My all powerful being, creator of destruction and war,” he whispers against your skin.

“Fine,” you mumble back.

It’s not your proudest moment. A goddess who has put men on their knees due to a simple look. A goddess who has won, and started, hundreds of wars. The goddess that has been broken down so easily. A small bit of begging and touching makes you crumble. Gojo knows he has won. He smiles against your lips.

“I knew I would win.”

You’re drenched in the blood of mortals. You know none of it is yours because no warrior has yet to even come close to you with their blade. You are the Goddess of the war. Subsequently, many did not take a liking to you. Most did not worship you, and you don’t mind. You relish in slaughter and bloodlust, why would a few (thousand) mortals hating you make a difference? If it really mattered to you, you could just kill them too.

Satoru looks ethereal on the battlefield. The god of beauty really doesn’t take a day off. When you spot him he’s wiping off blood from his face, bodies surrounding him. He pulls out his grand sword from the body of a soldier, face turning into disgust when he sees the gruesome scene around him.

In contrast to you, many worshiped Satoru Gojo. They adored him. He was charming, handsome, kind, handsome, funny, and was handsome on the list? Satoru Gojo is a sight even among Gods. The mere thought of him to mortals was enough to send someone into shock.

It was no surprise when you heard a soldier talk about taking his head as some sort of trophy. Even if not surprising it still enrages you. The thought of disgusting mortals even thinking of taking your lovers head made you want to wipe out every living being on the planet.

You create a path to these said men. The aura surrounding you smelling of death. Your sword gripped in your hand. You wish for them to suffer. Your steps hold so much power the ground shakes beneath you, causing the men to fall. You begin stabbing into their chests, piercing their stomachs through the armor. Until you take one by the hair, and in one swift stroke their head comes off their body. Face going limp, stuck in an expression of fear.

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo was watching you. He was taken aback by you. The sheer power you held with you. Your muscles gleaming in the smoky air, sweat and blood decorating them. He has never seen something so attractive in his life. If he were to describe true beauty, he would say you.

You turn to him with an angry smile on your face. The once living head turned into a skull at your command. Simply another death to add to your collection.

Still seething you approach Gojo. Looking him in the eye. A dark presence follows you while your lover is surrounded by a light one. His head pounds in adoration for you. He has never felt like this in his entire life. You throw your sword into the ground, eager to touch Satoru. You calloused hands wrap around his biceps. You stare at Satoru in the eyes, his hand wrapped around your waist.

“No one touches what’s mine.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo Satoru Masterlist

Multi-Chapter Stories

How you ended up as Gojo's fiancé in a fantasy tale masterlist Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

Opposites Attract Being the daughter of the Zenin clan made it your mission to defeat him. Him, Satoru Gojo, the honored one. Him, who makes your life a living hell. Him, who begins to get so much more than your curse...

One Shots

Touch her and you'll burn Your boyfriend Gojo goes berserk after finding out that Toji kidnapped you.

You saved me After Suguru tried to kill his former girlfriend, Satoru is there to cure your depression.

She is my weakness While you are on the brink of death through Suguru's hands, Satoru realizes just how much you really mean to him.

A word of power When his wife is sent to missions over and over until it visibly gets to her, Gojo decides to do something against it.

Lies in the dark You boyfriend Gojo cheated on you with another woman, leaving you heartbroken. Did he, though?

Keep doing it Satoru loves coming to your office everyday to finally win your heart. But it seems like you're more subborn than he thinks.

Having to share a bed with Satoru Gojo at a love hotel ... no words needed.

Golden girl Satoru Gojo really hates everything about you, especially the fact that you are stronger than him. Is it even possible to get along with you, let alone like you? (Spoiler: yes)

The heart wants what it wants 18+ The farewell of your boyfriend Suguru left a wound so deep that it seems like no one is able to fix it. Is the Satoru Gojo, who's secretly in love with you, able to pick your pieces back together?

Promises you can't keep When Sukuna realizes that you did not only break your oath to wait until he returns back to you but married Gojo Satoru after 1000 years of him waiting for you, he goes insane.

Don't touch her Gojo going berserk when you get injured by a curse

Gojo eavesdropping on his wife when she's talking about him While you kept your relationship with Satoru private, you always admire him when you meet at work. However, when your students ask you about your type in men, you can't help but describe the love of your life who hears every single word

Gojo recklessly flirting with Choso's little sister at Shibuya After being set in Shibuya to distract and exhaust none other than Satoru Gojo, Choso's little sister soon learns that the rumors about his charm are true.

Gojo teasing the heck out of you after realizing you get flustered by his eyes After working with smooth operator Gojo Satoru for years, he slowly but surely began to realize what your true weakness is: his bright blue orbs. And he wouldn't be Satoru Gojo if he wouldn't use that against you...

Gojo's and (y/n)'s son wanting to marry (y/n) no words needed

Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.

Gojo getting flustered by his sweaty wife and smacked at their training session Your beloved husband never fails to beat you without mercy when training together. But this time, something seems to catch his eye - your chance to finally hit him with your best shot.

Megumi accidentaly calling Gojo's wife "mum" no words needed

Gojo calling (y/n) a burden to keep her safe Despite the fact that Satoru Gojo was the one who lifted you up and gave you the confidence to go on your very first solo-mission, it was also him who shattered your confidence in order to keep you safe.

Gojo's wife showing her maniac side when it comes to protecting her precious students (Part 1) Despite Gojo's wife spoke vehemently against sending the first and second years on a way too difficult mission, the elders decided against her suggestion. Her calm and collected self changes drastically when she makes them regret their decicion...

Gojo's wife going berserk in order to protect her students (Part 2) Like your bad feeling already suggested, especially Toge's and Yuji's lives hang on a threat when their mission doesn't go as planned. Good for them that Gojo's wife and their teacher rushes to their side and shows everyone just how much she cares about them.

Gojo's girlfriend being there for Shoko when no one else is Shibuya brings even a strong and collected woman like Shoko down to her knees. Especially when you, the only person who seems to truly care about her, ask her about her well-being when your boyfriend just got sealed....

Gojo dressing up as Santa for his girlfriend, Megumi and Tsumiki Satoru Gojo expected a lot of things, but not his girlfriend and two rescued kids making fun of him after he put on a Santa costume only for them.

Gojo being your enemy (or lover?) Your family told you over and over, pounded it into your head since childhood: Satoru Gojo is your enemy, you are simply not allowed to feel anything but hatred towards the Gojo clan. But why do you find yourself lost in his arms each and every night, begging him to love you right?

Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...

Geto's little sister finding out her husband got sealed by her big brother You thought you lost him forever, your big brother. Until Shibuya brings you back to reality, until your beloved husband gets sealed by none other than your dead big brother. Until you show your enemy what you're made off...

Gojo's wife supposedly getting executed by kicking ass instead When Sibuya is finally over, you find yourself facing none other than the elders who want to execute you. Little do they know you are no one to be messed with, that even without your husband by your side, you are a true threat if you want to...

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Gojo's and (y/n)'s daughter buying a prom dress for her mum because she never had one When you told your little one about the fact that you never got to wear a prom dress, it was clear for your husband and daughter they needed to change that for your birthday.

(y/n) comforting her husband after he was forced to kill his best friend The man who seems goofy all day, who never takes anything serious breaks down in his wife's arms after he killed his best friend.

Satoru Gojo trying to make bun with his daughter's kinky hair It always looked so easy to him, the way you put your thick hair into the most breathtaking hairstyles. But when his daughter asked him to do a sleek bun on her, he was confronted with the stinging fact how difficult styling kinky hair can be. But that doesn't stop the dad of the year from learning... (POC reader!)

Reader going from being Gojo's lover to being his worst enemy You were always the perfect girlfriend for Satoru Gojo: innocent, quiet and weak. Until something inside you snapped. Until you decided you don't want to be weak anymore. Until you realized that Satoru Gojo isn't your lover, but your enemy...

Gojo's daughter insisting on him brushing her hair because he's so gentle You are pretty suprised when your daughter insists on your husband brushing her hair depite the fact that this is normally your job. Until you find out why...

Reader finishing Gojo's missions for him when he's sick and he finds out When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way…

Realizing your true feelings for Gojo when he stands up for you You told yourself countless times that you aren't able to like Gojo Satoru, that he is nothing but a jerk. Until he stands up for you, until he shows you what he really thinks of you...

I Love You When I Drink Champagne In the late hours, with champagne in hand, Gojo’s teasing fades into something deeper. Beneath city lights and whispered confessions, you begin to wonder if his midnight promises mean more than he’ll ever admit in daylight.

[ushiwhacka]

IT'S A KINDNESS, HIGHNESS | gojo satoru + fem! reader | 4,500 words | mdni | royalty au, gojo is the most obnoxious, annoying, charming prince ever <3

⇥ summary: your betrothed is unlike anything you ever imagined. he's improper and brash and delights in embarrassing you - but he wants you. and he always gets whatever he wants. ⇥ warnings: corruption, oral (f! receiving), spit, pussy job, food play (just a tiny little bit), reader is a virgin, satoru is so impatient

for my most beloved char <3 thank you for being so patient and for this super cute request (and also for reading but shh)

You were bred to marry royalty. It’s what you’ve been told since you were old enough to know the meaning of it. You were raised to marry royalty. To sit with your legs flawlessly tilted. To sing like a delicate bird. To speak low and curtsey even lower still. A perfect daughter destined to become a perfect wife. 

A resounding click as you close the locket once more. The intricate flowers are warm under your skin, worn out with how many times you’ve run your fingers over them. Clutching it to your chest, giddy with thoughts about the man who looks back at you through the heart-shaped frame. The many nights it has spent tucked under your pillow as you dream of chaste hand kisses and dancing with your betrothed as everyone else looks on. 

“Do you think he’s as handsome as his portrait?” You peer down at the now opened heart again, sighing wistfully as you think of looking into those shining eyes. 

“Keep your head straight.” A sharp reprimand before you feel another pin scrape at your scalp. And you do your best to swallow an audible wince. “It does not matter if he’s handsome, he’s a prince. And one day, he will be king and you will be queen.”

“But, mother —”

“And you will provide him with as many heirs as he wishes.” Her thumbs press into your bare shoulder blades as she regards you in the mirror. A familiar expression on her face, her mouth taut in a thin line, she levels you with steely eyes. “This will do.” You swallow your questions. “Now go.”

There is a whirlwind of kitchen maids and footmen carrying silver trays overflowing with food, dusting the railing, adding wood to the already roaring fireplace. It all comes to a sobering still at the sound of galloping horses and wheels rolling over gravel and the clamour turns into concealed whispers and feet scurrying away. 

Two years since your betrothal. Two years of waiting and wondering. Two years worth of daydreams and fantasies of saccharine words and stolen glances and promises made tucked away behind secret corners. The air lodges in your lungs.  

The silence in the room is so heavy that you can hear your heart thumping in your chest, faster and louder as the steps in front of the door grow nearer. A click. Then the thumping stops. 

He is just as beautiful as his portrait. And yet, he looks nothing like it. There’s something so brazen about him, how strands of messy, white hair fall over his eyes. How his shirt is too loose and untied, the deep opening showing the pale skin of his chest. 

You follow the contour of it. Wide eyes taking in the dip of his throat, the swell of muscle just underneath. It feels forbidden, something you shouldn’t be allowed to see. And still you cannot peel your eyes away. Watching as he draws closer with every long step. Your feet feel like lead sinking into the hardwood floors. 

Curtsey. You’re supposed to curtsey, low and steady. You’re supposed to bow your head before the prince. 

“Ah, my future wife.” It’s too late. “You look ravishing.” 

Before you know it, your hand is in his hand and you can barely breathe. Your chest straining against the fabric of your dress. He looks at you in a way no one has before, like a predator who’s about to devour his prey. Then he brings your hand to his mouth, his lips warm against your skin. 

And he looks at you. Impudent eyes burnt into yours for too long. It’s lewd. It makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks heat in embarrassment. 

Your head is reeling, hand clutched into fists as you follow the group into the dining hall. You had only read of such behaviour in forbidden books hidden in the depths of your family library. It was inappropriate, a stolen moment of intimacy. Still, you can feel the shape of his lips on the back of your hand, stinging like a brand. Thumb pressing into it as you sit on the table with your hands in your lap and head hanging low. 

He sits with his chin propped on his fist, looking around with lidded eyes, the very picture of boredom painted on his fair face. Every word out of his mouth comes drawn out and lazy. But you can still feel his gaze following you, the bob of your throat as you swallow, the tiny drop of red wine sauce on your lips, the nervous fidgeting of your fingers. 

The rest of the world feels like noise, blurs, falls away under the weight of his curious eyes until it’s just you and him. And there’s nothing else to feel but how he drinks you in, how he lingers in all the forbidden crooks of your body. Like you’re already his and his alone.

You’re almost afraid to look at him. The way he stretches in the chair, legs spread wide and slouching over the armrests. Every attempt of your father’s to make polite conversation is thwarted with a disinterest that is almost insulting. Current affairs, politics, and tomorrow’s hunt pale in comparison to the way your hands trembles around the fork. How it clatters against your plate when you feel his hand brush the side of your thigh under the table. 

“Are you feeling unwell, My Lady?” The conversation halts when the prince speaks, heads turn to focus their attention on you. 

“I — I am quite alright.” You feel as though you might choke on the very air you breathe. “You are kind to ask, Your Highness.”

It must have been an accident. You try to reason with yourself that it was an accident. But you suspect it wasn’t. Not when his companion turns to glare at him. Not when his mouth quirks up ever so slightly in satisfaction.

Not when he looks at you as a child looks at a new toy. His new toy. There for his amusement.

Feet patter softly against the floor as you pace around your chambers, watching the sky turn black then lighten again. The pillows feel too warm and your bedding is scratching against the skin of your legs. And every time you close your eyes, you see him, you feel the warmth of his hand on yours, his plush lips on your knuckles. 

You press your mouth to the patch of your skin he kissed, you wonder what it would feel like if he kissed you. Would he be loving and tender? Or would he simply take and take some more, leaving you breathless and trembling? 

It is your duty to give, give him whatever he asks for. That’s the purpose of a wife. You had heard the same lecture nearly daily for over two decades of your life. But there was never an explanation. What must you give? Which part of you would he want for himself?

There’s a fluttering feeling in your belly. Like a sense of frustration that builds and grows with each new thought. Spreads lower still and your whole body comes alight. Like you might not mind giving as many parts of yourself to him as he may want, even if it’s all of you. It makes your chest heave and sweat bead at your hairline. Persists until you succumb to the mercy of exhaustion.

You spend the next morning avoiding anyone with a pulse — the gossiping servants, your mother, and especially him. Walking softly and peeking around corners until you find refuge in the library. The tips of your fingers grazing across dusty books as you read the titles. None of them particularly exciting. And either way, none of them have answers to the questions swirling through your mind. So you resign yourself to your thoughts, fingers dancing over the spines of dusty tomes.

“There.” Before you even know you are no longer alone, your body is pressed forward into the shelves, a chest flush against your back. “Just what I was I was searching for.” 

The sound of his melodic voice makes the blood simmer in your veins. He’s toying with you. You know he has no interest in any book your library could offer. And you’re angry. Angry because you know none of it is an accident. Angry because he is not the man you had imagined. 

And all that rage turns to ice in your veins when you turn around to face him, neck craned upwards only to be met with his bare chest peeking out of the crisp white shirt and a wolfish grin. 

“Your Highness, you —”

“Did you like my portrait?” His fingers inch towards you, rest on your collar bone as he examines the little silver heart that hangs around your neck. “I sat for it just for you.”

“It is in your likeness.” 

“You wound me.” His face is much too close to yours, so close that his breath fans over your skin when he breathes out a laugh. You’ve never felt smaller. “Do you think I’m handsome?”

“Your Highness —”

“Satoru.” He interrupts you again. His lips brushing against your ear. “If you are to be my wife I want to hear you say my name.” Your skin prickles up as he whispers, raw where his words fall over your neck. 

There’s an eerie quiet wrapping you together. Like anything beyond those towering shelves falls away. And all that’s left is the sound of his calm breaths and your heart pummelling against your ribs.

“Satoru.” It feels foreign in your mouth, fills it up. Sits heavy on your tongue.

“Good girl.” 

Then he leaves you. He walks out of the grand room with a spring in his step and a wave. And you’re gasping for air, one hand splayed over your chest where he had touched you, the other digging into the wooden shelves as a means to keep you upright. 

You feel watched, his shining eyes follow your every step. He finds you in the library again even when you’ve tucked yourself away in the most private of nooks. He finds you in the kitchens late at night, sneaking a few bites of cake and milk before bed. He finds you in the garden too as you sit on a bench overlooking the pond, tucked in the thick shade of a weeping willow. 

You’ve grown used to his presence in a way. Used to the quickening of your heart at the mere sight of him, at the sound of his voice. Used to the way your tummy coils when he touches you with near unbearable familiarity. 

Satoru sits next to you and puts the tray of lemon cakes on his lap. He’s too close again, his knee touching yours. And you allow it. Again. 

He shuffles in his seat, taps his fingers on the bench, then sighs deeply — making his presence known, waiting for you to acknowledge it. 

You don’t. 

The silence only lasts for one brief moment. “Have a taste.” He brings the sweet to your mouth and nudges your hand away when you try to take it. “No, no. Open wide for me.”

That feeling that sits low in your belly comes back, twists your insides. But you do as you’re told and part your lips. You’ve learned by now that he enjoys watching your face twist with embarrassment. Just loves that you will disregard every lesson in proper behaviour you’ve been taught for him. 

The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, lingers there too long. The cake crumbles on your tongue, tangy and sweet. And his mouth hangs slightly open as he watches the way the cream sticks to your teeth, his lithe fingers resting on your chin. It’s suffocating, like the air has thickened in the space between you. Like you cannot breathe until he tells you to. 

“Why are you squirming?” 

The question catches you off guard. “I’m not.”

“Do you like it when I touch you? Does it make you feel strange between your legs?” He leans into you as he speaks. “Is your cunt all wet?”

Your eyes widen in shock. He’s not supposed to say that word. So filthy and unbecoming.  And it makes you feel all… wrong. Too aware of how your body preens for him.

“That is not an appropriate way to speak to a lady.” It takes every drop of strength you possess to not trample over your words. To ignore how he looks at you, barely surpassing his amusement. To stand on your feet and stomp away from him. 

But still, when you slam the heavy doors to your chambers closed, all you can hear is his voice, deep and sanguine. And all you can think about is how it feels to be so close to him, to breathe in his scent and feel the warmth of his skin on yours. How you sink into every touch and every brush of his knuckles. How you feel dazed and light-headed when he speaks words he shouldn’t. 

How you wish to know more.

He finds you again that same night. Walks into your bedchambers wearing a shirt pulled further apart than usual. Feigns innocence as you regard him with stern eyes and your mouth pressed into a disapproving line.

“You really cannot be here.” You fold into yourself, suddenly aware of how he can see you, see all parts of you through the nightgown that’s turned translucent in the candlelight.

“I must have lost my way.” His voice hushed, but you can still hear the insincerity in it. “It’s a big house.”

“I’m certain you’re used to bigger.” You pull your arms closer to your chest. “Now go.”

He doesn’t. You can feel how his eyes rake over you, take in every detail as you stand almost bare before him — how your hair looks when it’s not neatly arranged and adorned with pearls, how your fingers dip into your shoulders, how the tops of your breasts peek from behind your forearms with every heavy breath.

“You’re beautiful.” He takes a step toward you, long fingers brushing over your hair. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Satoru, please.”

“Tell me you want me to leave.”

You swallow thickly, throat tight around your words, swallowing them. Your eyes dart away from him as embarrassment climbs up your legs, warms your cheeks. 

He reaches out, holds your chin between his thumb and index finger. Tilts your head so that you have to look at his face, so that he can see up close the quiver of your lips as you succumb to him. “I’m waiting.” Because you will succumb to him.

The air between you feels suffocating, sticks to you. You turn your head, desperate to breathe, to escape what feels inevitable. But you’re met with the palm of his hand, searing in its tenderness as it pulls you closer to him. 

His lips hover above your own, impatient but still waiting for your resolve to fracture and crumble in his grip. The flicker of your eyes brimming with anticipation is enough of an answer. A shared breath and the distance between you dissipates as he kisses you. 

You’re standing on the tips of your toes, your body extending to dissolve into his. Like it knows its place. He’s gentle, his lips plush and soft and oh so warm as they press on yours. And you feel like you might lose yourself to this feeling, to his touch, consumed by his hunger. And when he pulls away you chase after him.

But he stops you with a hand around your jaw. “Don’t be greedy, now.” His thumb swipes across your lips. “You’re such a good girl, yes?” A dazed nod and his finger pushes inside your mouth, runs over your teeth and pushes onto your tongue. He stakes his claim on you. You’re his. Every last part of you. All of you. His to touch as he pleases. To have as he pleases. His and his alone. “And did they teach you what husbands and wives do together?”

You shake your head.

He swipes over the plump of your lips again, coating them in warm spit as you struggle to keep upright, light-headed, feet tingling with trepidation and something unfamiliar. “Would you like me to show you?”

“Y-yes.” It comes out shaky and breathless, like it should have remained in your throat, died there. Like you should have said no. But there’s that feeling in your belly again, starved and growing, and it wants him. And everything that may entail.

He kisses you again. This time it’s different, firmer, he forces you to open yourself up to him, his tongue licking inside your mouth. Holds you in place with a hand wrapped around the back of your neck. Devours you. Your every sense is alight with the feeling of him, forbidden and yet there in between your eager fingers. 

There’s drool dripping down the sides of your chin, so unbecoming, so embarrassing. Yet it doesn’t compare to the sting that spreads to your cheeks when his tongue darts out to lap it up, lick you clean. Then he kisses you once more, even deeper than before and no drop of himself he has so graciously given you goes to waste. 

You can’t escape the scrutiny of his crystal eyes, shining with pride at the result of his efforts as they take in the sight of you. From your swollen lips, down your neck, to your chest heaving with every laboured breath, and your arms folded together in a feeble attempt to protect your modesty. 

“Let me see you.” His voice trembles just for a moment. As if he, too, is being held together by delicate seams, bursting with want, with the need to have you. 

His fingers snake around your wrists and your breath hitches. But you still let him peel your arms off your body, let his knuckles ghost over the thin material, let him undo the bow that holds your nightgown together. 

You can hear how hard he swallows, see how his throat bobs with the effort, how his mouth goes slack at the sight of your perky nipples peeking out from underneath the white cotton. “Are you nervous?” 

“A little.” 

Knuckles ghost over your clavicle as he hooks a finger around each strap of your nightgown. He looks into your eyes as he pulls them over your shoulder. “Don’t be.” And the dress falls around your feet in a rustle.

The look on his face is unlike anything you have ever seen before. Something primal and fierce. Like a starved animal, a wolf about to devour the lamb caught in his paws. He will take everything, carve it out of your core and grind it between his molars. And you will let him. And you will ask for more.

Feverish lips leave a trail down the column of your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. You hold onto him, nails digging into the base of his neck as he moves further down, watching in awe as he licks a stripe in between your breasts. He’s watching you too, eager to see how your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure, how you try to bite back the moans that tumble out anyways.

His hands move to cup your tits and he takes his time watching how the fat spills from in between his fingers. Touches your nipples so lightly it tickles, then latches his mouth onto one. It’s obscene, the prince on his knees, your skin glistening with a thin layer of his spit. And oh the noises he makes, whining as he sucks on the hardened buds, the pop as he releases one, only to move to the other side and do it all over again. 

The blissful smile on his face as he looks at you coming undone in his arms. 

But it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to fill the emptiness that’s spreading inside out you. “Please, Satoru —” Your voice weak and desperate, begging for something, anything that will make you feel whole again. 

“What’s wrong, My Lady?” He stands to his feet, curving into you. “What do you want?”

“Satoru…” You say his name like a prayer, like it’s your only salvation.

“Do you want me to touch you —” His fingers dip between the fat of your thighs “— here?”

And you gasp oh so sweetly as his middle finger presses into your folds. Your legs buckle, nails digging deeper into his skin. You want more. And you squeeze around his hand like your body knows what you need when even you don’t. But it’s too late. He’s already holding his finger in between you, dripping with your slick. Then he pops it in his mouth, looks into your eyes as he swirls his tongue around it. 

“Mmm, sweet.” It’s like he delights in embarrassing you even now. “I want more.”

He carries you to the bed, sets you down gently before pulling the shirt off his back. He can see you and, at last, you can see him too. The peaks of his chest, drops of sweat running down between the ripples of his abdomen. So broad. Not even marble statues, perfectly carved works of art, can compare to him. 

His hands are smoothing over your legs, firm, like he’s trying to commit every dip and curve of them to memory. His kisses start chaste, airy over the bone of your ankles, tickle the back of your knee. Slowly, they turn hungry, demanding as he buries his head between your thighs. He sucks on your soft flesh there, his mouth hot and needy. Then his tongue laves over the teeth marks imprinted into your skin, soothing the sting of it. 

He stops for a moment. Desperate eyes taking in the sight of your pussy, wet and sticky with arousal. He runs his fingers over the sensitive skin, listens to you sharply inhale at the contact. 

“You’re mine.” The world stops. “Say it.”

You can only manage a strangled whisper. “I’m yours.”

Then you feel it, the warmth of his breath as his mouth hangs just above your core, how wet and thick and hot his tongue is when it licks between your folds. How it curls around that spot that makes you whimper and call out his name. And he wraps his lips around it, sucks on it and you cannot stop the cry that erupts out of your mouth. 

Your belly tightens. And you have to hide your face behind trembling hands, hide your panting and the way your cheeks could burst with shame. But you cannot stop how your body leans into him, how your legs wrap tightly around his head, pulling him closer still. 

“You’re doing so well.” His voice vibrates against your centre and you moan, high-pitched and strained. “Just let go for me.” 

You can feel the sheets grow wetter beneath you, him cursing under his breath about how perfect you are, his tongue all over you, lapping up your slick and dipping into all the perfect places. And that feeling snaps, spreads until your legs are shaking and you can do nothing but wail and scratch your nails across his scalp. 

Lips move across your tummy, sloppy wet kisses mix withe the damp of your skin. He kisses you again, cradles your neck, holds you in place. It’s forceful and his mouth is so hot on yours, dripping, covers you in a taste that’s salty and sweet and intoxicating. 

His hair is tussled, face shiny with you. And he looks at you with some kind of twisted pride in his eyes. “Have I won My Lady’s favour?”

A weak nod.

“Then —” He starts as nimble hands undo the ties on his breeches, “— I should show you what you have done to me.”

It’s a sight unlike any other. His cock, with soft white tufts of hair at the base, thin veins curving around his length and a blush pink tip leaking something clear and thick. And when he rests it on top of your tummy it feels heavy and it goes all the way up to your belly button. 

“When we’re married I intend to have you like this every day.” His eyes are glued to where your bodies connect. “Perhaps more than once. We need heirs, don’t we?” Excitement tingles in your fingertips.

He runs the fleshy tip over your slit so agonisingly slowly. Follows every little movement with such intensity. And he feels like velvet against you, warm and throbbing over your core. Each buck oh his hips catches that sensitive peak between your folds and you feel your insides coil again. Writhe with want, with need to feel that release again. 

You reach out to touch him, feel how he ruts into you. And he moans at the contact, a little choked out and whiny. You run your hand over his length, encouraged by how his lips part so prettily. And he feels so thick, so firm in your grasp.

“You’re a fast learner.” His mouth stretches, a picture of satisfaction.

But his tip catches against your entrance, and his eyebrows knot uncomfortably and he grinds his teeth. Knuckles white around the crumpled sheets as he tries to ground himself. Resist. Just for now. But never again.

His thrusts become more erratic, reckless as he surrenders to the tenderness of your flesh. And you follow closely along, hips bucking into him, looking for more friction, more of him. Your name falling from his lips, and his from yours. Like a sacred choir chant, or a cry for mercy, or something no words could ever convey. 

He finds his release with his head hung and a low grunt. Spilling all over your belly, white and sticky and hot. He’s spent, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, chest heaving. You like the way he looks at you, bright eyes dimmed and hazy. Softer. And you think you must have taken a part out of him too.

He clings to you, lets you lay your head on his chest, your ear just above his heart. Its steady beat is oddly soothing. And so is the way he gently rubs little circles into your back, grounds you, binds you to him. Unexpected but not unwanted. 

“Do you want to marry me?” He looks so different. Vulnerable and entirely too human, gaze locked onto the carved wood of your ceiling. As if he’s afraid of your answer, the truth in your eyes.

“Hm.”

“Hm?” His chest tightens.

“Only if you promise to sleep in my bed for as long as we both shall live.”

He turns to you with a click of his tongue. “I think they will have to drag me out by my arms and legs.” A wistful sigh. “There might even be casualties.”

thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[meiieiri]

water’s edge | concept dump

₊˚.༄ pairing: crown prince!gojo satoru x f!reader | setting: modern royal au

₊˚.༄ summary: 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?

₊˚.༄ warnings: mean!gojo (but that’s not even the worst of it oh my god what monstrosity have i created), arranged marriage, illness, allusions to criminal activity that may include reckless homicide, physical battery and attempted murder. mentions of depression, cheating, physical and emotional abuse, trauma, adultery. fictional depiction of the japanese imperial family, etc.

LINK TO FULL FIC MASTERLIST HERE!

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who is the only son of the emperor and empress of Japan, the beloved and long-awaited child of his parents. As a child, he had been showered with endless praise and veneration as the one, true, legitimate heir to the chrysanthemum throne. The entire imperial household had expected the prince to inherit an unwavering sense of duty to the crown and to his people much like his fore-bearers, only to be severely disappointed when the prince turns out to be a pathological card shark with ambiguous morals, and a serial womanizer who has slept with countless women from aristocratic backgrounds during the height of his bachelor years.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who finally incurs his father’s wrath after a nasty bar brawl that leads to him getting unceremoniously arrested and is stripped of his title and properties as crown prince, favoring his half-brother, Prince Suguru Geto, who had been born of the emperor’s affair with one of the empress’s ladies-in-waiting. This incident has prompted his mother, the empress, to help in ratifying his public image by arranging Satoru to marry a commoner with an impeccable standing in Japanese society in a bid to re-portray Satoru as a responsible, married man. The empress, in turn, offers to grant you, Satoru’s future wife-to-be, anything your heart could ever desire.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who engages in a pantomime act of being a loving husband to you during a state banquet by showering you with endless praise in his speech addressed to all the world leaders in the Akasaka Palace’s reception hall. When he was asked to introduce you, his new wife, the honeyed words came so easily to him. “You see, the princess (Y/N) is no ordinary woman,” he chuckles into the microphone causing the guests to giggle at the sight of what looks to be a bashful newlywed.

“Other than being the first breath of fresh air our family has ever had the pleasure of knowing in so long, and the most active member in our family when it comes to supporting the many royal charities and foundations, she is…” he trails off. You dared to follow the wandering gaze of your husband, who seems to be searching for another pair of eyes in the room. His eyes eventually stop their search, softening at the sight of the one he loved. For a second, you think he is looking at you, and your heart naively skips a beat in your chest as if all these months of inattention and animosity were finally coming to an end.

“…My better half, the keeper of my own heart.”

Many of the ambassador’s wives who sat beside you nudged you in congratulations for being so blessed with such a devoted husband. You crane your head back to smile warmly at them for the kind words only to have ice coat your veins instantly when you see his Chief-of-Staff, Himiko Zenin, sitting about two seats behind you, staring directly at your husband with a wistful look in her eyes, exchanging words of love in a silent oath — one that is far more certain than the rising and the setting of the sun as each day passes with your husband hating you a tad bit more than yesterday, and one that is far more truthful than the wedding vows you shared.

Of course, writing this godforsaken death march-like speech was easy for Satoru, simply because these words of devotion and love were never intended for you anyway; this poetic spiel was written with another woman ensnaring his mind.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who sneaks out of bed during your wedding night, sparing one last cold glance at your sleeping form before he saunters out the imperial villa to meet his girlfriend in a nearby mountain resort, about half a mile away from the villa. His personal chauffeur had been sworn to secrecy, else, he would incur the wrath of the crown prince.

“I thought you couldn’t get away,” Himiko moans wantonly into his mouth as he roughly takes her from behind, the lewd wet sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the room. He had taken the liberty of secretly bringing Himiko along to your honeymoon, by booking the most expensive suite in the resort for her under another name.

“The bitch is too fucked out to even notice I’m gone— mmph—“ he throws his head back, releasing a pleasured groan when Himiko meets his sharp thrusts, grinding teasingly on his cock as she does so. He grips her hips tightly, readjusting his hips to pound into her from another angle, the muscles on his abs tightening as he gets lost in the feeling of her tight, luscious walls. “Sh-shit, ‘m-m gonna cum—“

“—Ah! S-Satoru,” she was close too, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as the fat tip of his member roughly prods at her cervix.

He half-expected Himiko to be angry with him for engaging in intimate acts with you, but she simply acts like she didn’t hear him. And even if she was upset, why should he, of all people, apologize? She should have known that becoming his mistress entailed having to endure these kinds of things as these were simply Satoru’s marital duties, and by extension, his duty to the crown.

His high washes over him like a tidal wave crashing into the rock shore, grunting as he involuntarily thrusts as he releases inside her, Himiko collapsing onto the pillows as he does. “O-oh, haaa- agh,” his deep tenor moans into her long black hair as his seed paints her walls, holding her close to his form, their heartbeats racing a million miles an hour.

He pulls out his flaccid cock, plopping down next to her, pulling her small frame for her head to rest on his chest. “I just need to have father reinstate me as heir apparent and return all my estates, then,” he kisses her once, his lips moving in sync with her soft ones.

“…We’ll get rid of her.”

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who blatantly and publicly humiliates you by bringing along Himiko Zenin to a state visit to the imperial family’s counterpart in Monaco rather than you, his rightful wife. And when asked of your whereabouts, Satoru simply replies with a casual shrug, his hand squeezing Himiko’s smaller ones as she usurps the banquet thrown in your honor by the Monacan royal family while you watch the horrific scene unfold on your television screen, your heart shattering into a million pieces as Himiko and Satoru uncaringly waltz with one another in front of the watchful eyes of the entire world throughout the evening.

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who crucifies you for your acts of sincere charity, believing you to be actively humiliating Himiko despite having no intentions whatsoever resembling his baseless accusation. “Did you honestly think your little publicity antics would go unpunished? I bet you were just itching for the attention, weren’t you?” he snarls at you the second you come back from a visit to one of the hospitals you had commissioned for the treatment of children with rare diseases, a compassionate act which had been heavily televised by national broadcasting stations and even international news agencies. “If you wish to compete with Himiko, wife, then, by all means. But I swear to you, I will do everything — everything I can — to make the entire world know just how much of an opportunistic whore you are—”

You gaze up at your husband with fear in your eyes. “…I was not competing with Himiko, can I not care for our people — your people? I’m sure they need someone to promote their interests when their own prince couldn’t be bothered to do so!” you retaliate but are quickly shot down when he throws his scotch glass at the wall, causing you to flinch when it shatters on impact.

“I will make sure this humiliation you dealt to Himiko will return to you tenfold, (Y/N),” he dangerously seethes, coming to the aid of his mistress. “Celebrate your victory all you want, wife, but make no mistake, this is far from over.”

₊˚.༄ Crown Prince!Gojo who indifferently scoffs when you crumble into a sobbing mess after yet another argument with him. “W-what can I do to make you not hate me so much? P-please tell me, Satoru.” The only response you receive is your husband dangerously moving closer to you, his eyes, dark with pure loathing. Instinctively, you step backward, only to be met by the cold wall of your shared bedroom. “S-Satoru—“

“—Here’s what you can do: do exactly as I say, without question,” he traps you between his arms, his breath hot on your skin, his lips dangerously close to yours, his voice dripping with the venom that could turn every silver thread in your heart into a hue that resembled charcoal black. “If I tell you to kiss me, you kiss me. If I tell you to get out, you get out. If I tell you to shut up, you sew your mouth shut or rip your tongue out, I really don’t give a damn. If I tell you to die…”

…

…

“…You drop dead.”

a/n: meh, just wrote this at the top of my head to get rid of this stupid writer’s block since hehe i have like eighteen drafts of jjk smut and drabbles in my tumblr folder rn help :’)

might turn this into a multi-chapter fic depending on how it is received. so lemme know your thoughts by reblogging, liking or commenting on this post!

[teddybeartoji]

I LOVE PRINCE GOJO KSHSISNDJDLFN i got so sad from the last part tho wtf :(((( IS THE NEXT ONE COMING ANYTIME SOON?

EEEE I AM VERY HAPPY THAT PPL ARE STILL THINKING ABT HIM!!!!!!!! i think i have most of the next part but i haven't had motivation for it lately, so many other things on my mind😔😔😔 my apologiez nonnie... but thank you thank you thank you for the love though<3333333

[aesthetically-dying101]

Tying the knot (and pulling hair)

A/N: okAY so more 'the catalist for anguish' content cause apparently ppl rlly liked it (pls im so happy u guys did) A dear commenter said: "Okay this was amazing but now I feel like you HAVE to show us reader meeting geto and shoko... 😇" AND I JUST COULDNT NOT SO!

Based on: OG thing and kinda second part

The palace garden was a picture of perfection, with the late afternoon sun casting long, golden shadows across the immaculate paths. The preparations for the wedding were in full swing, the air alive with soft chatter and the distant sounds of servants and musicians. The grand ceremony was just a day away, and yet, here you were, feeling anything but calm.

It wasn’t that you weren’t excited about marrying Prince Gojo—because you were. But today was important for another reason: you were meeting Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri for the first time. Gojo had spoken of them often, but always with a mix of humor, pride, and a hint of something deeper. They were not just his closest friends; they were his family, and he’d only recently mended a year-long rift with Geto.

(Recently being like a day ago- and only because you had insisted so hard on sending that damn invitation)

“Oh, my beloved future wife!” Satoru Gojo called dramatically, his white hair catching the sun as he strode toward you with two figures in tow. “Prepare yourself, for I bring you greatness.”

“I thought you were the greatness,” you said dryly, standing to greet them.

“I am. But these are my backup greatnesses,” he replied with a smug grin. “This is Suguru Geto and Shoko Ieiri—my closest friends and, frankly, the only people who tolerate me for extended periods.”

Geto, tall and elegant, gave a small bow. His long hair shifted over his shoulder as he smiled warmly.

“It’s an honor, my lady. I’ve heard... stories.”

“Oh, have you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Let me guess. He told you I couldn’t resist his overwhelming charm?”

“Something like that,” Geto replied, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But from the way you’re glaring at him, I’m starting to think the story had some... creative liberties.”

Shoko, who had been studying you like a curious specimen, finally spoke. “So, you’re the one marrying this guy. You’re either incredibly brave or completely insane. Which is it?”

“A mix, I think,” you replied, trying to match her deadpan humor despite the nervous flutter in your stomach.

“I like her,” Shoko declared, tipping her glass of wine toward you. “If you ever need an escape, I’m pretty sure I can bribe a stable hand to hitch a getaway carriage.”

“Noted,” you replied, cracking a small smile despite yourself. “Though I’ll need the carriage more for him than me.”

Shoko snorted. “Smart. You’ll fit in perfectly.”

Gojo slung an arm around Geto’s shoulder, gesturing grandly at you. “See? Isn’t she amazing? Witty, gorgeous, and she puts up with me. Truly, a miracle.”

“Hard to argue with that,” Geto said, eyeing you with a mix of amusement and approval. “Though I have to ask—what’s the catch?”

You crossed your arms, pretending to ponder the question. “Well, I did sell my soul for this position. Turns out the devil has white hair and sunglasses.”

Geto burst out laughing while Shoko gave you an approving nod. Gojo, feigning offense, clutched his chest. “Ouch, my lady. My fragile heart!”

“Fragile?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the least fragile person I’ve ever met.”

“Emotionally, though,” he said, grinning. “I’m very delicate.”

Shoko leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. “He’s lying. This man’s ego is bulletproof.”

"I noticed."

*-*

The wedding was a grand affair.

And now the night was alive with music and celebration, but out in the palace gardens, things had taken a… different turn.

Geto and Gojo were.. some drama queens.

Both well past any reasonable limit of alcohol consumption, had decided to engage in what they called a “battle of honor.” To everyone else, it looked like two oversized children on the verge of toppling over from sheer drunkenness.

Gojo was well beyond the point of graceful inebriation. His posture was more akin to a ragdoll than royalty.

“I swear, Geto, I’m the better man. Better hair, better fighting style, better... everything!” He flung his arm out for emphasis and almost knocked over a passing servant, who quickly dodged.

Geto grinned lazily, his eyes barely open.

“You wish. The only thing better about you is the fact that you can’t go a minute without annoying someone.” He hiccupped dramatically, and then, with a swagger, pointed at Gojo, who was teetering dangerously. “You think you can take me? Try it, prince.”

“Bring it on, loser!” Gojo slurred, leaning his weight on a nearby pillar to steady himself. The two stumbled around, circling each other in the most uncoordinated way possible, like a pair of toddlers pretending to duel with oversized wooden swords.

“I’m warning you, Gojo,” Geto said with a grin, wiping away a stray drop of wine that had spilled onto his chin. “I’m about to unleash my secret weapon.”

“Oh yeah?” Gojo’s smirk grew wider, and he puffed out his chest in exaggerated confidence. “I’ve got a secret weapon too. Watch me!” He spread his arms dramatically, nearly toppling over in the process.

In the blink of an eye, Gojo lunged toward Geto, but he was so unsteady that he missed, slamming into a large statue instead. The impact sent a soft thud through the stone, making Gojo blink at the piece of art like he had never seen anything so perplexing.

Geto staggered back a step, trying to hold in his laughter. “Nice one, Satoru. You’ve really got that royal grace.”

“You’re next!” Gojo shouted, slapping his own face as if to revive his focus. “This time, I won’t miss!”

Geto wasn’t ready for the second round, but he wasn’t going to back down. He threw his arms wide. “Come at me, your highness!”

The two collided with a sound akin to two drunken bulls crashing into each other. Arms flailed and legs tripped as they grappled, their movements a confusing blend of wrestling and absurd hand-to-hand combat. Every time one of them gained an inch, the other would trip over his own feet and take them both down again.

In the midst of their chaotic struggle, Gojo managed to grab a fistful of Geto’s hair, yanking it dramatically, causing Geto to yelp in surprise.

“HA! I knew you’d go down like a dog!” Gojo crowed, holding onto Geto’s hair like it was a victory flag.

“Ow! What the hell, Gojo?! You can’t just—” Geto’s protests were cut short as he stumbled backward, dragging Gojo along with him. They both went sprawling into the nearby lake with a colossal splash that startled even the royal guards who were nearby.

"I'm betting on Geto." Shoko sipped her champagne.

"Well I married one of those idiots, so I'll bet on my wonderful husband." You sighed dramatically, making Shoko snicker.

You watched, still chuckling, as Gojo and Geto continued to argue, their words completely incoherent as they struggled to climb out of the lake. “You cheated, Gojo! You’re a hair-pulling coward!”

Gojo, laughing so hard he could barely speak, somehow managed to respond, “You’re the one who made me pull your hair, Geto! No one told you to be so—so grab-able.”

“You grabbed it!” Geto retorted.

“Well,” Gojo said, grinning through his dripping wet hair, “someone had to win. And it wasn’t you!”

With a final round of laughter and splashes, the two of them finally gave up and collapsed onto the palace steps, drenched to the bone. Gojo was still holding Geto’s hair like it was a trophy.

A/N: OKAY SO I HOPE THAT WAS OKAY !!

:)

[chuulyssa]

MELISSA ★ chuuya's beloved & dazai's angel ★ she/her ★ 28th feb pisces ★ asian ★ follow me @luffyssa

★ this blog contains both sfw and nsfw content (18+ blog)

RULES MASTERLIST ABOUT

𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚��𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 explore the tag #recommended ── ★

JJK arranged. [gojo satoru x reader] series tag #prince!gojo ── ★ ୨୧ 𓆩♡𓆪 TELL ME I’M A LITTLE ANGEL, SWEETHEART OF YOUR CITY

★ toji can’t wait for your period to end ★ gojo using his blindfold to tie you up

BSD ୨୧ confessing to them ★ i might have to fuck her on the highway [public sex scenarios] ★ ୨୧ something about me got you hooked on my body [favourite body part]

OP ୨୧ jealous monster trio + law and ace

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 4 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

haha sorry it's a bit shorter than usual I've been really off my sleep schedule, it is 12.30am as i type this and i SHOULD be fixing my sleep schedule but i'm not bcuz i hate myself :)

Part 3 here

Warnings: Brief panic attacks, really shitty time skips because I'm bad at continuity, nothing else really (I promise this story will kick off soon)

Word Count: 3k

“Consequences be damned, we’re husband and wife now,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple that makes the crowd erupt into cheers. A bright smile crosses your lips and you nestle into his side, waving out at the crowd with him, before your father nudges you to stand at the podium beside Gojo.

You take a breath, feeling the sorcerer’s energy channel at your throat as he amplifies your voice, “Dearest Iqorians!” You say, “My beloved people, you have been nothing but kind to me as I have grown within the palace walls, and I understand the newest addition to our family was unexpected and may cause a stir, but I hope you can find it in yourself to continue trusting us,” The crowd has fallen to a quiet murmur as you speak.

“Ryomen L/n is our new Prince, my husband, and I want him to feel welcomed here,” You take his hand and pull him up to stand beside you, “He bears the tattoos of the L/n clan, and if that isn’t enough for you to trust him as much as you trust me, then I don’t know how else to convince you. Trust me as your lady, as your princess, that this man will strive to protect anyone who calls Iqoria home and will be a valuable addition to our defense and strengthen our nation,”

The cheers have grown almost deafening and you take it as a good sign, “We look forward to serving you as Prince and Princess for the long future ahead!”

The speech has drained your energy and you allow yourself to be herded back inside where Ryomen presses a kiss to your lips for the first time since your wedding day. You nudge into his space and lean your head up, following his lead for a moment before he pulls back, “You looked sexy up there,” He smirks, causing a blush to flare up on your cheeks.

You poke him gently, “Ryomen!” You scold, “You never know who could be listening,” He shrugs, “You’re my wife, aren’t you? I’m allowed to compliment you if I please,” Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and you feel emotionally charged, “Well… then I appreciate it,” You nod with satisfaction.

He pulls you back to his chest and you nestle yourself under his chin, breathing softly in the open silence. There are no more words, at least not for today, and you both quietly make your way back to your rooms where a large lunch has been set out for you to share in peaceful private.

-

“Why can’t I go see him?” “He is the Crown Prince my dear, he is tired and they need time to themselves after the long session,” You bury your face against your mothers skirts, “But I want to see him!” You whine.

Your mother sighs softly, petting the back of your head as she crouches down to look into your watery eyes, “Oh my dear,” She murmurs, brushing your tears away with her thumbs, “I am sure he misses you dearly, but we must let him rest as long as he needs, it is a taxing process, one which you will have to endure one day as well,”

You shake your head indignantly, “Nuh uh! I won’t get married, boys are mean!” “And B/n?” She smiles, her eyes twinkling, and you stutter, “B-but he’s different!” She pulls you into a hug, “And one day you may find another man like your brother who is, as you say, different. You just have to keep your mind open,” You roll your eyes, “Yeah yeah, I know mother,”

“I heard you were looking for me?” A voice behind you makes you break away from your mother with a grin, “B/n!” You shout, racing to him and throwing yourself into his arms. He lifts you up and spins you around a little, making you giggle with delight until he sits you on his hip and supports your body, “Did you really miss me that much?”

You nod, clutching at the shirt he’s wearing, “Of course I did! Nobody else would play with me the way you do!” The age gap between the Crown Prince and his baby sister was around thirteen years due to health complications your mother experienced after a miscarriage brought her to deaths doorstep. You were the miracle baby that brought light back into her eyes and energy into her bones.

Forced to marry and have a child young after she took the throne at around 19, she demanded respect and anyone who went against her prior to her miscarriage at age 22 often suffered great consequences. Her husband, the King, was her greatest strength and her closest ally, never overshadowing her and never once making decisions unless she specifically entrusted them to him.

Your mother was 32 years old and still ruling with a kind heart and an iron will, but there were small fractures. She knew her son was lonely, she was afraid of failing him, of failing her kingdom, should she fail to produce another child. She spent most of her pregnancy hiding it from the people until the doctors were sure you would survive to term.

And then when you finally arrived, everything fell into place. Your mother encouraged a bond between the two of you from day one and you were almost inseparable. He was fiercely protective when you were finally allowed to be seen by the people and insisted that he carry you or hold your hand when you were nervous or overwhelmed.

“Well now, we must change that!” He smirks, “Come! We shall go and play out in the gardens, I’m sure mother would like her turn to rest,” You make a quick stop in the kitchen and down in the attendants houses to collect the children of maids and attendants living in the palace before gathering in the garden for a raucous game of tag.

Your brother looked strong and ethereal with his new tattoos, you found yourself distracted by them in the few weeks to come, and he let you trace the ones on his face with your gentle fingers when he came to read you stories to help you sleep. You never asked any questions, aside from one, “Did they hurt?”

He looked down to you in bed beside him, “They hurt a little, but don’t you worry, they prove that you’re strong and you’re part of the greatest kingdom in the world,” He took a knee beside your bed as you shifted to face him better, “I give you my word as an honorable man,” You smiled brightly, “Then maybe I shall get married someday, just so we can match!”

He smiled sadly, “You should marry for the love of your partner, not for your love of me,” He brushed hair from your face, “Dear sister I love you,” You clutched your hands together, looking away shyly, “I love you too, and I promise I won’t do it just for you,”

-

“Sister must you be so rash?” His voice called out behind you and you turned, your arms crossed, “You know they mean well,” He caught up to you and you turned back to the gardens, continuing your walk. “Will you not even speak to me?”

“What is there to say? Do I get a choice of husband? I thought I was allowed to marry for love and not politics, but apparently I was wrong,” You ranted, “Mother can be so frustrating at times,” You can see him move to comfort you but he backs down at the last moment.

“I know you’re angry and upset, but you mustn’t speak to her like that, you can just tell her no and she will listen, you are not yet an adult after all,” “And what is that supposed to mean?” You spat. “Just that you are not ready for that kind of marriage, I meant no offense,”

You finally backed down a bit, crossing your arms and sulking in front of your favourite rose bush. “Sister will you look at me?” You peeked out of the corner of your eye at your elder brother, the ring on his finger catching the sunlight and twinkling cheekily as if mocking your outburst.

“I hope you will apologise to mother, you must know she would not go through with it without your explicit consent,” You felt you should have been angered further by his insistence on an apology but instead you just felt weary. “I will ask her to apologise as well, just promise me you won’t stay mad?” You nodded, if only to placate his fears. You didn’t feel like apologizing at the time, but you might.

-

You gathered your skirts, racing through the halls until you reached the stables. A quick scan revealed nothing, but you soon found him, “Brother! Must you go? So close to her birthday?” You cried, breathless. He looks up at you from where he is adjusting his gauntlets, “I’m afraid so, my cursed energy will be more helpful out there than it will be cooped up in this stone cage,”

He smiled, it was lopsided and reminded you of a rabbit, “Do not worry, I will be back soon, these cowards are nothing but rats, ambushing defenseless people in the middle of the night,” With a frown you raced closer and wrapped your arms around him, a little awkwardly because of the armour he wore but that did not deter you, “Please be safe brother, I beg,”

“I will return to you, do not let your roses die while I am away, alright?” You knew he meant more than just the physical roses you cared for in your part of the garden. You’d always been his rose, and you nodded as you pulled back, hugging yourself tightly, “I won’t let them perish,” Your voice shook but you forced your head high, displaying nothing but confidence.

You believed in his abilities, you believed more than anything that your brother would survive because he always did. “Her gift is hidden in my closet, I am sure you know where to find it,” He winks. A twinge of fear in your heart once again twisted like a knife. His daughter would miss him, she would ask where her daddy was and you would have to assure her that he would return, that he was out protecting her from the evil that roamed the earth.

She would not understand, as you had once refused to, but you would be there for her if she needed you. You stayed at the gate protected by a pair of guards until you could no longer see the light from the torches the battalion carried, allowing yourself to be gently escorted back to your rooms and what restless sleep awaited you.

-

“Your highness! Princess Y/N!” A voice behind you makes you turn from your closet to face the maid who spoke, “Yes?” She’s out of breath from running and you can see there are tears on her cheeks, “M-mail for you,” She whimpers, holding out a letter. You’ve been preparing for a dinner with the few nobles of Iqoria and wanted an out, this might be your ticket.

However you’re reluctant, considering her obvious distress, but you decide you must take the letter from her hand and unfold it. The seal is already broken from someone inspecting it and you smooth it out on your dress momentarily, lifting it to your eyes.

Dearest sister,

Your dearest and bravest brother.

If this reaches you safely, then I’m afraid I am either not long for this world or already gone.

Do not let my efforts in the settlements be in vain, I hear your new husband is strong? How I wish I could have met him, Gojo tells me he is raucous and proud, his energy overwhelming. I knew you’d find someone to match your energy. If only you’d married him a few weeks earlier. My sister, how I wish I could see your smile one last time. How are Mother’s tapestries coming along? How are Father’s hunting dogs? How are your roses? Do you still walk through the gardens under the stars, awaiting my return? It’s been too long since I saw you last, I fear you will be just beside my lovely wife as the last things on my mind when everything fades. I wish I could continue to protect you from the darkness, but alas I have been bested. Take care of yourself for me, take care of our people. I suppose they’re your people now, your husband will help you lead them well. I will miss you forever.

The page is dotted with tears when you clutch it to your chest, letting out an unfiltered cry and falling to your knees. The cry evolves into something animalistic, a scream tears itself from your throat, and suddenly Ryomen and Geto are sprinting into the room, your husbands hands on your cheeks as you wail. The letter is almost beyond readable but Geto manages to pry it from your hands as Ryomen pulls you into his lap on the floor, rocking you back and forth and gently shushing you.

You grip at his shoulders, fistfuls of his shirt pressing into your palms as you gasp for air, “Someone call for her parents!” Geto orders and the same maid who delivered the letter is gone in an instant. “Oh my love,” Ryomen murmurs, brushing his hands through your hair and rubbing your back, “Please, I am here,”

You shake your head, “My brother,” You gasp, chest heaving, “The Crown Prince, he falls in battle!” You sob, your tears streaming as Ryomen stiffens. Realisation seems to hit the both of you simultaneously and you look up, suddenly devoid of the ability to cry. His wife and her daughter will remain a part of the family but as she married into the royal family she is no longer the Crown Princess.

“Hail… the Crown Prince and Princess of Iqoria,” Geto says slowly, as shocked as the pair of you are. “I…” Ryomen’s fingertips dig into your hips as he pulls you closer, tucking his face against your shoulder to hide from the maids remaining in the room, “I’m not ready for this,” He whispers, his voice shaky against your ear. Your hand shoots up to the back of his head and holds him there gently, you feel yourself breaking apart but you cannot allow yourself to grieve for what you’ve lost just yet.

“Ryomen L/n,” You murmur, “Crown Prince of the Iqorian kingdom,” “My father will come for me,” He whispers, “He never intended for this to happen, he would never let me be king, not in Khoccadia and not anywhere else,” His voice rises in panic and you gently shush him, shooing everyone out of the room.

Once alone his tears begin to fall and you rest your forehead to his, your own dripping into your lap and dampening your dress, “He has no authority here,” You say, your voice shaking with grief, “You are mine, and he will never harm you again, do you hear me?” His eyes are frantic and his breaths uneven, “Ryomen, do you hear me?”

“I was never meant to be king, he will come for me, he will do anything to prevent it! You have to let me go, I’m just putting you all in danger, please, you have to let me go!” He shifts underneath you and you struggle to keep him down for a moment, before drawing on your own cursed energy to send an unrefined wave of it at him. He gasps for breath and you plant yourself solidly on top of him, “Ryomen! Listen to me! I’m not letting you go back there on your own, you’ll be killed and I’ll never forgive myself!”

His eyes finally meet yours and you take his face between your palms, “Ryomen L/n, Iqoria is your home now, and if Iqoria needs you to be a king then you will step up by my side like I know you can, do you understand?” He nods, his lips thin and tightly pressed together, “Stay with me,” You murmur, your body and voice softening, “Please,”

“You… need me?” He murmurs, and you nod, tears slipping down your cheeks once more. You push forwards and bury your face against his chest, hands gripping him so tightly as you fear he might shove you off and walk away. “You need me,” He whispers, holding you tightly as the two of you gently fall apart in each other’s arms.

Your big brother… your big brother is gone. You just wish you could have one last time with him, you imagine all the things you would do if you knew he was going to die, but all you can seem to picture is the gardens. Stars stretching above you, love in the words unspoken and golden memories held in each precious twinkle.

The door to your room opens and your parents enter, their faces as crestfallen as yours as you peek over Ryomen’s shoulder, “Oh my darling,” Your mother sobs, stumbling to the floor by your side and burying her face against your shoulder. You reach for your mother, staying on Ryomen’s lap as you hold her close, “It was supposed to be just an ambush, what could have gone so wrong?” You whisper against her hair, feeling her body shake like a feather in the wind.

“None of that matters, it is all up to you now,” Your father murmurs, his hand on Ryomen’s back as he tries to stay strong for the three of you, “You will ascend to the throne within the year, your mother…” His words die but you know what he’s implying. Your mother and father will retire and you will step up in their place, just barely a month after marrying.

“Everything will be alright, for I will be your light,”

hope you enjoyed!

Part 5 here

[noroi1000]

As the events are closing for requests I would like to request Gojo x reader royal au but with jujutsu sorcery

Reader is the general of a kingdom whose king is Satoru's father. Satoru is the crown prince. Reader is the strongest special grade with her powers on par with Gojo. The king orders yn to lead the army to conquer over an evil kingdom and take its people under his reign. Reader and her huge army who she is very close to leave for the mission but her army dies in the war and only reader survives . In rage of losing her army and her mentor who taught her everything she solos the opponent king Mahito and comes with victory. But she is the lone Survivor because she was the strongest.

Reader on coming home has survivors guilt and thus she comes to her boyfriend for comfort. But she finds him sleeping with other women and upon confrontation he blames her for always choosing her work despite the fact that instead of resting in her free time reader would try to satisfy his needs . She goes to her parents who has disowned her because instead of marriage she chose to work for king. They refuse to let her in the house

Reader is lonely, depressed and heartbroken from all of this and goes into depression . She spends two months in her large house crying blaming herself. The king has given her permission to rest . The king decides that yn is best suited as Gojo 's bride who will now become king so she can guide him in his new journey. So he invites reader to the ball telling that he will announce her and Gojo 's wedding there. She dresses beautifully but her mind is not stable due to losing her army, love and parents. Gojo who was already hopelessly in love with reader asks her to dance with him. They dance so beautifully that everyone cheers for them. After which kings announces his decision to get them married. At the end of the party when Gojo wants to meet yn to show her the royal palace and confess his love he finds reader has gone home. He thinks something is wrong because she would not leave until his father asked her to

He goes to her house to find reader crying and he sees that she had cut herself with her sword as self harm. He tries to comfort her and she tells him why she was crying and all her pain. Gojo confessed his love and tells yn he will love her and take her trauma. They get married and they start rulling together and Gojo heals her

You can decide the story how he heals reader and reader starts to love him. No hurry write whenever you want to. Just take care of yourself

Have a good day my favourite writer

Lose everything and regain even more

Prince Gojo x general reader (royal au)

Summary: You've lost an entire army. Your parents kicked you out. Your boyfriend cheated on you and left you. You've lost it all, but you'll gain the love of the prince who was in love with you.

Warnings: blood, death, Self-harm

"I lost everything... I lost my army because I was a bad leader... I lost my lover because I couldn't please him... I lost my parents because I gave myself to fighting instead of a planned marriage..."

"You haven't lost people who believe in you... You have lost a lot for my father's kingdom. Because they weren't enough for you. They weren't enough. They couldn't reach you. That's why they stayed behind. Lost. Because they've lost sight of you. You didn't lose them. They've lost you. So are your beloved and your parents."

"My army... You entrusted them to me, Your Highness..."

"I have entrusted them, freedom fighters and the lives of others, to your care. Under your orders. To guide them with motivation. Because winning with such a monster is something. Every lost life has meaning. Therefore, you must know that people dying at his hands died for something. Most of them died for you to fight. They died so you could keep fighting. and come back. May you defeat the enemy and return home victorious."

"Does the Kingdom need someone who loses everything?"

"There is no man who has not lost something in his life. Even if that person seems to have everything they could possibly want."

"And do you have everything you dream of, Your Majesty? Have you ever lost anything?"

"I have almost lost someone very close to me. Because she thought it would be better if she died on the battlefield with the others. And now he thinks he's losing everything. Even though she will gain a lot more than she already had."

_____

Your legs were heavy as you trudged through meadows and forests on your way home...

Silence Whistling in your ears.

The last time you walked this road, it was filled with the conversations of the people walking, and also the footsteps.

It was so quiet now.

Even though half a day ago you were still at the side of these people...

Their dead bodies lay on top of each other. Their deformed or severed heads when you had to keep fighting.

The stench of blood that entered your nostrils. Just seeing it all hurt.

You've seen many things in your life. But never as horrible as you've experienced so far.

And you wonder why it was you who survived...

Why you and not one of the other sorcerers who fought with you. Why are you alive and people who had families left.

You had little before. Now you have even less.

Besides having a job with the king as a general, you've lost part of your family connection.

And the person you consider family is now lying in the sand, his dead body cold.

Your mentor is gone... Everyone who was in the army you ruled... They're all dead... You're the only one standing and breathing... Why is everything so unfair...?

Even if you managed to stop that horrible King Mahito, at what cost?

They all died. Only you are alive...

You were supposed to conquer the enemy kingdom ruled by him - Mahito. You were supposed to liberate the people who were his subjects. People who begged for help.

However, you didn't know, no one knew, that he uses his Jujutsu to mutate people. His mindless monsters were killing your soldiers. While you were fighting him.

As you were spitting blood from the exertion and pain, you finally managed to calm down.

But when you got to your feet after defeating the evil king, everything was empty.

They were all on the ground. No person stood straight on their feet. They were all on the ground covered in blood. With their bodies completely cold.

Only you stood there and lived.

However, after the blind spot images, your psyche died.

Fields and meadows of dead bodies.

Exactly as it was in the letter from the evil king.

"Let the rivers run with blood. Bloody waterfall. Let brains bloom in the meadows instead of flowers, in pots made of skulls. Let the fields be tilled with fists. attacks. Let the tears be sown. And dead bodies will grow on the ground like the most beautiful flowers."

You were the strongest sorcerer in the whole kingdom. In the world. Only one person has surpassed you. The prince of your kingdom. future king.

Gojo Satoru.

Unfortunately, his Father does not allow him to go into battle in unfamiliar territories. Even if he is the strongest. Untouchable.

And so his Father feared for him so much. Because he is the future king.

He is the treasure of the whole kingdom.

So he didn't want anything to happen to him.

It was understandable to everyone.

The king had you. A person who was almost as strong.

You were the general of the kingdom.

Even if there was someone stronger than you. Your Jujutsu wasn't weak. You weren't weak.

The king has chosen you.

He thought you were the perfect candidate for the position.

you were nice. But also ruthless. You were smart and strong. He liked you. His son too. You had a very good idea of ​​what goes on in wars.

Especially when it's Jujutsu sorcerer wars.

The gate to the city was immediately opened for you, and the guards took you to the medic.

Where it was assumed that apart from a wounded psyche, nothing serious happened to you.

You spent several hours in the royal hospital with the best care.

The kingdom's chief medic used a reverse cursed technique to heal your wounds.

But the reverse cursed technique doesn't work on a human spirit.

That's why Ieiri told you to go to your loved ones for comfort. And you also got a break from work for the next time.

This decision of the king met with support and also with indignation of some people. However, he did not want to change his mind.

Because of all his people, you needed comforting the most.

That's why you went home to meet your boyfriend.

His house.

You live closer to the castle than he does...

He was supposed to be your fiancé. He was supposed to be your husband. However, everything has been moved by the position you got.

You can't be a wife and a general.

You had to choose either your husband or your job.

You had to rethink it all.

To calmly think longer about what you will do in life.

You needed a moment to help you with this.

That's why you took a quiet break.

But now that you were going to go there, you started to think more and more about it.

Maybe you'll give up and stay with him forever? Why don't you give up your life as a general to be in a quiet house all the time?

Without knocking on the door, you walked in, taking off your shoes to walk around the house in socks.

You looked into the rooms. According to the neighbor, your boyfriend didn't go anywhere.

That's why you went there to meet him.

But when you entered his bedroom, you saw his silhouette in bed. And two other women lying there with him. naked.

Her eyes widened and you felt yourself go cold. It's like your heart has stopped.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You entered the room and looked at your boyfriend.

His eyes widened when he saw you.

He thought you died. Since no one came back, neither could you.

But you were standing there in front of him now.

Watching in disgust as the two women cling to him as if they needed protection.

Your energy around is definitely sad. And also furious.

"(y/n). You're back." He said with a slight smile. "Nice to see you."

"Nice? I see you had other fun while I was gone." you growled.

"You were never home."

Your eyes widened when you heard that.

"You can't deny it. Every time I needed you, you weren't there. You have always chosen a job! What for? To be by the king's side! I've been waiting for the moment when I found out you're giving body to the prince! I saw how he looked at you in one moment!"

"You are ridiculous! I never betrayed you! And apparently it was my mistake..." you snorted. "No matter how hard I tried to juggle our common needs with work, you never had enough. Do you think it's so cool for me? Run from the castle all the way here to take care of you?!"

"It doesn't matter anyway! We are no longer a couple! I don't want someone who puts fame, power, and work ahead of a relationship!"

_____

"We don't want a daughter who chose to take a job with the king instead of marrying. It is a disgrace to us that our daughter is doing a man's job."

That's what you heard from your parents when you stopped on their doorstep.

They weren't proud of you. They weren't happy that you were alive after all that.

All they ever wanted from you was that you get married and have children.

They didn't want you to be such a strong sorcerer.

They only wanted you to fulfill your role as a woman...

And because you didn't do it the way they wanted, they closed the door on you, leaving you on the doorstep.

Not letting you into the house.

Because they have disowned you...

When you were banished from your family home, you were supposed to get another home. A house where you're supposed to get so much more than you got from your own family...

"(y/n) (l/n) as the general of my country and at the same time a woman, she is the perfect bride for my son. Please give her a message that I am proposing that she be Satoru's bride in two months. The perfect candidate for him. Similar age, similar strength that will provide a powerful future heir to the throne. My grandchildren. She will lead my son as king. Being his wife, lover and hopefully the mother of his children."

Normally your eyes would shine if you received such a message. But normally you'd have to say no, too. Because you had a boyfriend.

Now your eyes don't shine. They hurt from the tears you shed day and night.

Your whole eyes, red. Aching from lack of sleep.

Tears for what you've lost...

you lost everything...

And you haven't left the house for two months.

You are plagued by dreams of the death of everyone you have led into battle.

You are haunted by the words of your father and ex-boyfriend.

It's all bothering you.

Because you've already lost everything...

And now you were going to be the prince's bride?

You won't say no, because maybe at this point your father will be proud of you. You'll have the perfect husband...

Nor will you refuse because you have nothing else left in your life...

You will let the prince use your body to bear his children. Because you've lost the feeling that you're good for anything else.

Since no one loves you anyway... You can do something useful...

You had the messenger tell the king that you consented to this.

You've been home for two months... For two months the servants from the castle have been bringing you food because you didn't want to leave.

But tonight you had to get ready for the ball.

You got a dress from your fiancé especially for this occasion.

Once you got to the castle, the women started taking care of your hair and little things to make you look perfect at the ball.

"You look beautiful."

You looked at him as he entered the room.

His smile as he sat next to you at the king's table.

You've always had a seat closer to the king than others.

But now you were sitting next to the prince as he looked at you with a slight smile.

His white clothes fit his body.

He ran his fingers over your face as he saw you not eating or doing anything.

There were snacks and drinks on the tables.

He ate what he wanted in front of him.

Some people drank wine in goblets, some ate something. They were talking.

You sat there quietly, staring at the empty plate.

And it wasn't until he touched your cheek that you looked up at him.

The king, seeing this, smiled slightly.

But he knew that you hadn't smiled hard since the beginning of the evening.

And your smiles were more fake.

Your psyche was shattered.

But he hoped his son's love would fix you.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked you as he stood up. He gave you his hand.

After a moment's thought, you took his hand and let him lead you to the dance.

Then you heard his father say something.

And you understood what it was. He announced your wedding.

"Are you okay?" your fiancé asked you as he led you while music played in the banquet hall.

You didn't notice that people around you were looking at you and clapping. They cheered as they saw your movements go hand in hand.

Your body just followed his movements. Exactly as it was supposed to be.

"(y/n)?"

"I lost everything... I lost my army because I was a bad leader... I lost my lover because I couldn't please him... I lost my parents because I gave myself to fighting instead of a planned marriage..."

"You haven't lost people who believe in you... You have lost a lot for my father's kingdom. Because they weren't enough for you. They weren't enough. They couldn't reach you. That's why they stayed behind. Lost. Because they lost sight of you. You didn't lose them. They've lost you. So are your beloved and your parents."

"My army... You entrusted them to me, Your Majesty..."

"I have entrusted them, freedom fighters and the lives of others, to your care. Under your orders. To guide them with motivation. Because winning with such a monster is something. Every lost life has meaning. Therefore, you must know that people dying at his hands died for something. Most of them died for you to fight. They died so you could keep fighting. and come back. May you defeat the enemy and return home victorious."

"Does the Kingdom need someone who loses everything?"

"There is no man who has not lost something in his life. Even if that person seems to have everything they could possibly want."

"And do you have everything you dream of, Your Majesty? Have you ever lost anything?"

"I have almost lost someone very close to me. Because she thought it would be better if she died on the battlefield with the others. And now he thinks he's losing everything. Even though she will gain a lot more than she already had."

Your eyes gleamed slightly as he leaned in at the end of the dance with the end of the music.

What is he talking about?

Someone important to him?

He picked you up and pulled you into a slow dance to match the melody.

"Your Majesty?"

"Call me Satoru. You will be my wife." He said with a smile as he gently placed his hand on your waist.

He suddenly rested his head on his chest, which surprised him, but he smiled. You felt pain as you remembered what you saw.

Why did you survive?

Why are you getting a prince as a husband now, even though you failed as a commander for the army?

"You don't have to worry about anything. I will be with you."

His smile faded as you gently pulled away from him, saying you'd like to go somewhere quiet for a while.

He let you, but you didn't let him go with you.

That's why he waited at the entrance to the ballroom until you came back.

He was not a patient man.

Plus, he was already hopelessly in love with you. That's why he wanted to confess his love to you.

He wanted to hear your opinion about him.

That's why he followed you.

He's been looking for you all over the castle.

He wanted to show you everything around. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to tell you his feelings.

He was so excited about it.

However, you were nowhere.

And one of the maids said you were leaving the castle.

That's why he ran after you to find you on the way.

He wanted to go to your house.

Because maybe you didn't know, but he was one of the people who brought you food when you were tired of your psyche.

He didn't knock on the door when he got there.

He just went inside and looked for you inside.

He walked around your house.

And just as he was about to give up, he heard your quiet sobs from behind the wall.

As he hurriedly opened the door, he saw you sitting on the floor next to the bed, sword in one hand while the blade fragment on the side disappeared into your hand as you cut your own skin.

Quick drops of blood trickled from your hand as your eyes were closed.

Crying mostly from the soul pain that lingers in you.

Not to mention the pain you felt in your hand.

You pulled the sword from your wound, blindly wanting to make another cut.

However, the metal has disappeared from your hand.

You opened your eyes to see the crystal blue of his eyes.

He was kneeling in front of you holding your hands.

He hugged you suddenly and you felt a little lighter.

"What happened?" he whispered as he let you cuddle up to his arm.

"...I lost everything... They didn't lose me... It was my fault... I can't do anything for anyone else... I didn't live up to their expectations... I can't be someone perfect for everyone... My boyfriend left me and cheated on me... My parents cursed me out and kicked me out of the house..."

"No one can be perfect for everyone. Nothing that happened is your fault. Maybe they're not in your life right now... But I'm with you."

You grabbed his clothes as you hugged him.

"I will accept whatever you feel. I'll help you carry it. I will live with you. I will never leave you. I will love you all my life. You will always be loved. You'll never get hurt like this again."

You just fall in love with him. And everything he says will be true. His love will repair all your wrongs.

Falling in love with him will be easy because you have already started falling in love with his smile.

And by losing everything, you managed to gain even more.