bxnfire

[bxnfire]

Hang the DJ - Satoru Gojo

in a world where people let technology figure out their best love matches, there are still those that choose to live in a more, organic way. there is a program in which you get taken out of the matching system and instead have access to a page where you get to see who else prefers to choose their path and contact them. which is how you wound up agreeing to going to a trip with gojo. charming, alluring, funny, gojo. will you be able to break the system? or will you prove everyone else right?

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

content/warnings: minors dni, pwp, smut, fluff, slight angst, black mirror!au, futuristic, p in v, fingering, handjobs, oral, overstim, edging, blindfolding, light bdsm

chapter guide: coming soon…

[bxnfire]

coupled up!

previously on... | currently airing: episode two | episode guide

you've got a text! looks like you're about to spend your summer on everyone's favorite trashy reality dating show searching for love (...or that cash prize at the end) will a certain pretty (annoying) blue-eyed boy catch your attention? or perhaps his dark-haired best friend? it seems this villa has a few bombshells in store too!

pairings: Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Choso x Reader

content: MDNI, fluff and light angst, fem reader!, she's a little bitchy but we love her anyway, gojo is down BAD, teasing, jealousy, reader is going to be unhinged in this one guys, light groping, jealousy, we support women's rights AND wrongs

creds: gorgeous art by @baobei-bu and divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

What the hell had you done to deserve this?

"So, like, should we hold hands when we walk in or-"

"We're not supposed to talk to each other when the cameras aren't on," You muttered under your breath, glaring at the grown man currently pouting like a puppy dog next to you.

"So?" Gojo cocked his head to the side, leaning in until his nose grazed against yours, daring you to glare at him some more.

"You're incredibly annoying," You whispered.

You hated that he had a point.

What were they going to do?

Yell at you? Kick you off the show?

You were starting to think that wouldn't be so bad if your options were a cocky man child and a man who kissed two girls in the span of what? Ten minutes?

Maybe you'd have better luck with the rest of the men.

"You know, the meaner you are, the more I fall in love with you," Gojo teased, craning his neck down to whisper back in your ear, soft lips grazing against your still damp skin.

"I don't think you know what being in love even means," You scoffed at him.

If he did, he wouldn't just throw it around like that.

Love hurt. Ripped you apart and stitched you back together in the shape of someone you didn't recognize. If it was even real at all.

"I think I might surprise you," He hm-ed, and the producer up front finally noticed, cutting you both a sharp look to shut up.

You didn't think that was physically possible for him, but he managed to stay quiet for a couple more minutes on the rest of the drive to the villa you'd be stuck out for the next few weeks.

They quickly ushered you out, guiding you over to they wanted shots of you walking in from. The car with Geto and Manami pulled in a minute later, and you had to stop yourself from glaring when they got out.

Manami's hands were all over him, grabbing his arm as she got up on the tip of her toes to say something to him like her heels didn't give her enough height. He leaned down to listen in, still wearing that stupid relaxed smile, but then his eyes shifted over to you with an infuriating hint of apology, as if he was trying to say, 'well, what can I do?'

Jackass.

"Can I ask you something?" You turned to Gojo, clinically assessing him from the mischievous glimmer in his eyes to the casual way he gravitated closer to you.

"Anything," He grinned.

"You wanna fuck me, right?" You bluntly asked, only loud enough he could hear.

His face flushed pink, surprise making his mouth drop open. You half-expected him to start drooling.

"I-I mean, yeah, more than that, but-" He stuttered a little, the cool guy persona melting a little under the hot sun and hotter lights set up for the cameras.

"We can have sex, but stop acting like you like me, okay? It's fine for the cameras, but please cut the bullshit when it's just us," You hissed at him, brows furrowed together like it'd show him how serious you were.

"What if I do like you?"

He didn't fucking know you. There was nothing to like.

You didn't get to answer that before the producers were shouting you over, new instructions on where to look and what to do when you walked through the arches leading into the backyard, flower-lined with hidden cameras strategically placed for multiple angles.

Geto and Manami got to go first, and you tried not to notice the intense eyes watching you before they started down the path, scooting just the slightest bit closer to Gojo just for him to sling an arm casually over your hip, fingers flexing as they rested over your dress.

Then it was your turn.

Your heels clicked against the wooden platform, Gojo's hand on your waist keeping you tethered to him while you tried to picture what kind of cheesy music they'd be playing over this.

Gojo was probably plastering his smile back on, happy to have you by his side.

It was a weird feeling. Stifling almost, suffocating you under the weight of his unspoken expectations.

He'd be sorely disappointed by the second day when he used more than three braincells to piece together what a bitch you could be.

There was the faint sound of cheers ahead, people probably rushing to greet Geto and the new girl he brought with him before you walked through.

You and Gojo though?

Met with blank faces and bored reactions before returning to chatting with Geto and Manami.

"They don't like you either?" You dryly assessed, his fingers squeezing your side a little tighter. You weren't sure why. If it was reassurance or a rebuttal.

"They just like him better," Gojo said, not particularly bitter, just blunt. Like it was the story of his life.

It took a few moments for a few of them to approach you, a stunning black-haired woman with a scar running across her cheek looked at you with pity before side-eyeing the man next to you. "Sorry you're stuck with him."

She stuck out her palm politely, and you shook it back while getting all the boring introductions over. You tried to sneakily size up who else you'd be stuck with for the foreseeable future. Her name was Utahime, and she was with that blond guy from the last scene the producers showed you, except, he was much more intimidating in person.

His amber eyes were shrewd, clearly scrutinizing your state of dampness, only muttering out three simple sentences. His name. Age. Occupation.

"Excited to be here?" You tried to sarcastically joke, but his unamused expression didn't change, his face flat and his forced smile practiced.

Whatever hot man factory this robot of a guy was produced in forgot to install a sense of humor.

"Hey, Shoko," Utahime called out, drawing the attention of an equally-pretty brunette over. She didn't have a partner, so you guessed she'd probably been paired with Geto before.

All the 'nice-to-meet-you's ended fast though, a few new names you'd desperately do your best to remember in your head.

There was a tall blonde named Yuki, bright and bubbly and effortlessly cool in a way that made you endlessly jealous. But Naoya? The guy she'd gotten paired with? He was insufferable.

Dyed hair and a bratty attitude that made you look like a saint, mocking you within seconds of meeting you by calling you a mess like it was your fault Gojo got champagne all over you.

The producers were the ones who set up the first couples, pinning it on some compatibility test that had surely been set up so they could get the messiest results.

You sorta wished this was the type of show where you had the power to vote people out because you'd be scribbling Naoya in every slip of paper to send him packing.

"I kinda thought there'd be more people," You absentmindedly commented, walking through the Villa's backyard, checking out the pool and all the different seating areas they'd set up with absurd amounts of colorful pillow and decor bright enough to make your eyes hurt.

"They'll add more later, I'm sure," Gojo chuckled, a shadow it seemed you wouldn't be escaping any time soon.

You nodded, glancing back towards the villa.

"Can you show me where the bedroom is?" You asked, scanning over all the oversized windows. The sun had almost vanished, the sky painted in soft streaks of orange and pink and the moon hanging between thin clouds, but your stomach was tangled in too tight of knots for you to appreciate any of this.

"Course," Gojo chirped, taking the opportunity to grab your hand and tug you forward.

He'd probably carry you if you let him.

Not-so-hidden cameras were scattered in almost every corner, some more obvious than others. You tried not to look directly at them, but your skin was crawling thinking of all the people who might end up viewing this.

God forbid you fucking tripped or something and the clip ended up plastered on social media for the next five years.

Your suitcase was already upstairs. Just awaiting your arrival next to a bed with you and Gojo's names scrawled in marked in front of it. There were six beds total, three on each wall and evenly spread, so you guessed that at most there could be twelve people here, or six couples, although there was definitely space for more. You glanced around at the other nameplates, frowning when you read Geto and Manami's names neatly scribbled on the one next to yours.

Yuki and Naoya were in your other side, and you hoped you'd get lucky enough she'd strangle him in her sleep so you wouldn't have to add another asshole to the list of shit you were dealing with.

The one you were currently babysitting was watching you.

Gojo didn't hide his stare. You weren't sure he could if he tried.

Bright blue eyes burning through you, observing every little movement and flicker of your face before he flopped down on the wrinkled blanket, patting the spot next to him with one of those huge palms of his.

"Care to join me?"

What was your other option? Go join the rest of them where you already felt like an outsider?

You slipped off your heels, feet aching as you climbed into bed next to him. Careful to keep a few inches from him while you turned your attention to the ceiling, pretending the mic pack attached to you was irritating the hell out of you either.

"Is Suguru just like that?" You asked, sighing as you tried your hardest not to sound disappointed.

"Like what?" He hummed.

"Nothing," You shook your head, deciding just to drop it.

There was a decidedly awkward pause, his hesitation hanging heavy in the air before he even spoke.

"I do want to get to know you," He mumbled. "By the way."

"Why?"

Or more accurately, what was he trying to to get out of it?

"You're not pretending to be someone else," He shrugged, rolling over onto his side to face you. For a second, you forgot about the fact this was being filmed. Glancing over at his surprisingly serious stare.

"I am, though," You laughed at him, brow arched up in disbelief.

After the past year? You weren't even sure who you were anymore.

"Yeah, but, I mean, you're easy to see through," He grinned, all idiotic and happy like it wasn't an insult.

"You don't know me," You reminded him.

"So let me," He shrugged, leaning in a little closer.

If you moved an inch, it would be easy to kiss him. To brush your nose against his.

Your dress was clinging uncomfortably to your thighs, sticking to you the way his words had. You rolled off the bed, walking back over to the front of the bed.

"Do they even have washing machines here?" You mumbled under your breath, like you could wash away the tension.

You opened your suitcase, bending over to dig through its contents for a different, not wet, dress. You didn't bother leaving the room to change. It wasn't like there was one without cameras.

Gojo held his hand over his eyes, but you just rolled yours.

"I don't care if you look," You wryly muttered.

He'd probably see end up seeing you in a bikini more than in normal clothes anyway. Not to mention you'd be sharing the same bed for who knows how long.

But you didn't think there was even a slice of him that was coy when he literally just moved his fingers so he could literally peek through them.

"Dork," You huffed pulling out a dress and tossing it on the foot of the bed before fumbling to take off the mic pack around your waist, carefully setting it down on top of your suitcase, a little terrified to damage it. You reached around for the zipper of your dress, but your fingers felt clumsy, refusing to work the way you wanted them to.

"Need any help?" Gojo grinned.

"Fine," You grumbled.

He practically jumped up, hurrying around to be of any assistance to you. But the second he was standing behind you, his broad chest too close to your back, he took his time, tentatively sweeping the hair away from your neck and letting the tips of his fingers skim down to your zipper.

You caught yourself holding your breath, chewing the inside of your cheek when he slowly tugged it down, unsure what to make of it or him when it felt uncomfortably intimate.

"Pretty," He murmured, just for the zipper to get stuck halfway down.

He tried tugging again. Nothing.

"Is it caught on something?" You asked, face already flushing.

"Yeah, hold on one second," He chuckled, a hint of embarrassment betraying him at somehow managing to fuck up this up too.

He pulled it up a little before yanking it back down to no avail.

"I can probably just wiggle out of it," You murmured, mortified at the idea everyone you knew - including your ex-boyfriend - would be watching this back.

"I've got it," Gojo huffed, like the last time he insisted on something wasn't the same reason you were changing now.

So yeah, you weren't exactly surprised when you heard the rip.

"Shit."

Your dress, or what was left of it, hit the ground with a soft thud. Left standing in a tiny set of bra and underwear they might have to censor on tv. Gojo gasped - the strangled sort of one that you could tell only slipped out on accident. You wondered if the mic around your neck caught the sound.

Probably not when the door swung open and hit the wall loud enough you jumped.

Gojo's hands were suddenly over your breasts, fumbling to cover you up and shield you from someone else.

Really, it probably only ended up looking like he was groping you.

"It's not-" Gojo started.

Suguru and Shoko were standing in the doorframe. Shoko didn't react, just tilting her head to the side and jutting her thumb down the hall. "We're about to play a game by the fire pit."

"We'll be there," You shrugged, holding your head up high and refusing to surrender any more scraps of your dignity.

Suguru was frowning.

Watching you with a shrewd stare, studying your face for signs of something.

Gojo's breathing was uneven behind you, his palm still pressed against your breast when they left the room after another awkward beat of silence.

Even when the door shut behind them, he still hadn't moved.

"Gojo," You said his name.

"Yeah?" He cleared his throat.

"You don't have to keep holding my tits."

"Oh, shit, sorry," He murmured, letting go of you and stepping back.

You didn't reply, just pulling out a clean dress from your bag and shimmying it up your thighs, turning again so he could pull up the zipper this time, halfway thinking he'd break it too.

"I'll buy you a new dress," He quietly said. "To replace the other one."

You weren't really interested in a man's empty promises.

"Uh-huh," You muttered.

It took another thirty seconds for you to fix the mic belt around your waist while he sort of just stood there all stilted and watched.

"Mind, um, giving me a few minutes?" He asked, his voice all strange and strained.

You realized why when you noticed the quite frankly ridiculously oversized hard-on he was barely keeping contained.

At least he had a big dick.

You hoped he knew what to do with it.

"Sure, um, take care of yourself," You teased, fighting back a smirk when you slipped your heels back on and scurried through the door.

"I'm not going to-"

"Yeah, yeah," You couldn't help but giggle, covering your mouth with your hand as you pulled the doorknob back open and slipped out before he could defend himself.

The door shut with a loud thump, and you let yourself relax a little. Everything already sucked. So why stress even more about it?

It probably would've been easier to keep that sentiment if Suguru wasn't waiting for you outside. Leaning against the wall with his hands slung in his pockets, fixing you in the type of stare that pierced through your apathetic armor.

And you hadn't even fucked his friend yet, but you were pretty fucking positive it was the slightest hint of jealousy you detected in his dark eyes.

"Can I steal you for a minute?"

tags @augustwinesworld @nylve @marrymenanami @potiie @cajunfootrub @stefbroo @basicallyjeankirschtein @beautiful--macabre @luvmeadow @aseqan @armani78 @seizecherry @moncher-ire @tequilya @cuntphoric @issaortiz @crxm-dollx @bxnfire @koreluvsspring @celloccino @candy-s72 @blubearxy @ultgojo @kunareads @orikixx @hellicify @violetpurplez @reyzilla7 @pussydestroyerlya @reixtsu @whotfiskarma @shibataimu @trsh-kitty @emqlyyy @planetzetra @jasminelee324 @akirawhore @yyuyus @suicidollz @satsattoru @cloudxox @sexys-archives @pussydestroyerlya @sukuxna0 @b3bybunny @xingyuluvr @nonamevenus @certifiedsigma

[bxnfire]

✮ yearner!satoru looks at a picture on the wall. it’s back from your graduation, when you didn’t know what the future held for you, but your smiles were so bright it was like y’all did not care at all. he smiles softly, thinking about how he took for granted that sight, having no idea he would lose it soon after.

you are all adults now, and it’s been harder and harder to catch up. and while it was to be expected, it surely wouldn’t sting so fucking hard if satoru did not love you nearly as much as he did.

it’s like he sees you everywhere. in the quiet mornings, where you’d listen to music and lend him an earplug. in the loud cars at night, knowing that was the only way you’d get in one at all. in the smell of coffee, the kind he could only drink when it was more of sugar with coffee and not the other way around. in the restaurants on the street, knowing you’d spend your money on food far more than on anything else, and remembering how cute you looked after getting sweet little treats. the hot summer nights, where you’d dance your worries away on the sidewalk like nobody’s business. anything and everything reminded him of you and it was sickening.

although, the one thing more sickening than missing you the way he does is the thought of losing you. he’s so helplessly in love with you, he’s kept all of your silly drawings, even those in the margins of notebooks with notes he’d never use again, never washed a hoodie that now smelled more like fabric than you, but that faintness is enough for satoru. all of your movie and fair tickets are still safe in his drawer, and let’s not get started on all the birthday gifts from you: they’re his most sacred treasures, which was quite funny without context, knowing how he’s always had the world at his feet and yet any little trinket from you would have a higher value to him than any diamond. it is absolutely dehumanizing really, and the fact that it’s been going on for so long makes it worse, but he’s incapable of seeing a future in which you’re not, one way or another.

so no, distance doesn’t help his aching heart, not when you’re everywhere. he doesn’t need you, but he fucking misses you so much. if only he could express all of it to you, but he’s such a sucker, to the point where all of this comes more naturally to him than even any thought of making his love, the genuine type of love he has for you.

if only he knew you were just as helpless as him.

[bxnfire]

[bxnfire]

love island ft. toji fushiguro

masterlist

loveisland!toji who is confusing as hell at first. he gives a silent predator type of vibe, and by that nature nobody can tell who he’s actually into. he’ll smile at different girls and talk to some others, and when he's just with the men, he shows no clear preference even when others tend to make it awfully clear, though those that mention you find their things missing sometimes or happen to see toji go flirt with the girls they would mention, just out of spite, though he'd just play it off as "strategic" to hide how down bad he is for you, so nobody really knows if there’s a preferred one, including you

loveisland!toji who is unbelievably amused at the fact that you can’t tell he’s smitten by you. sure, he smiles at everyone and tries his best to give others proper time, but it’s all just to confuse everyone, you best fucking believe he’s already planned out both how to get you AND win over the public’s favor

loveisland!toji who only tells you about his life, only smiles sweetly at you, not sultry, not the type of smile that comes only when he wants to get something, but rather a smile that comes out of his genuine love for your presence

loveisland!toji who has his fun breaking the other girls’ hopes once he decides to take a more proactive approach to getting you. in their talks, he now talks about you and only you. how cute your laugh is, how beautiful you look by the beach, how interesting you are, etc etc etc. the nicer ones in the bunch decide to just give him advice, but others? well, some dirty looks were thrown your way, but it’s something he MADE sure you wouldn’t even notice

loveisland!toji who likes spa/hot tub and picnic/beach dates best. for the former, he’s fucking jacked and he knows how to use it to his advantage, there truly is no other reason than to want to impress you, even his dick in on it! that’s not because he gets to see your irresistible body all shiny and smooth because of the water/steam, noo, his dick would never act against his will, not even at such mouth watering sight of you, surely it will only grow oh so quickly, veins all over his girthy length, so obscenely obvious not even 2 towels could cover it up. the only downside being him fucking losing 2+ hours of sleep because it wouldn't just go down, he's been sitting far away from everyone, in some corner of the beach covered by bushes, furiously pumping his cock in hopes this time it would fucking stay down, but after cumming from the 4th time that night, he knew it would take loooonger as his awfully sensitive dick, red and sticky from sweat, cum and saliva combined from the previous sessions coated it, found a way to stay rock hard. he'll make you pay for it eventually. as for the latter, he likes to just talk to you and chill with more privacy in a way that allows him to be super casual, unlike some fancy dinner, and also so it doesn't require you guys to take much attention off each other, so a picnic in which everything is already laid out for you or at a beach in which the activities truly just come down to chilling in the water or the sand is perfect to him. you soon come to learn that toji is quite a fan of the treat between your thighs, as after you're done telling him all the stories you'll quickly forget left your mind at all after you've been sitting on his face for god knows how long about to cum for the nth time, rocking your hips, arching your back, eyes rolled all the way with tear-stained cheeks, and yet still finding energy to fuck his face, he did tell himself he'd make you pay after all, it's your fault he's been losing so much sleep lately! to top it all off, what's a picnic without a meal for two? 69 sure is a staple of your picnic menu, though for having his dick so far down your throat you still quite have an appetite after it all, but don't worry! you could have a sandwich, some fruits, or toji filling you up again, and again, and again

loveisland!toji who's cutscenes with you are actually adorable. you already act so used to each other, your dynamic so pacific, synergy unmatched, as if you were truly made for him, to the point where no other pairing truly makes sense compared to the two of you. such mundane things such as him massaging you, playing with your hair as he listens to you speak, your lack of reaction when he smacks your ass or just has his random bursts of separation anxiety and starts to put his hands all over you quickly let everyone in both the audience and villa altogether know that you're forever

loveisland!toji who has been a cheat, a bum, a lowlife, a scammer, but none of those really even begin to compare to the lover you've made out of him. sure, he can break noses, lose money in the blink of an eye, and even somehow manage to fix all those messes, and yet he has never felt the need, nor the want to reach his full potential, as he felt as though he was undeserving of proper happiness. of peace, love, a safe place. but the second he sat down by you at the beach one night and felt so seen, so accepted by you, he discovered a want deep rooted in his soul, one that had been dormant all his life and yet awoken by your embrace, full of the love and peace he had searched for so long, and the moment he realized that, he knew he'd have one last, fulfilling feat: to steal your heart

[bxnfire]

been so obsessed with nerdjo lately it’s getting pathetic.

[bxnfire]

the king's cock crown

it's easy to fall in love - and perhaps even easier to fall out of it when you discover the penpal who captured your heart might not be the man whose signature is on his letters

synopsis: a poor princess. a playboy emperor. and a devoted duke at his aide. heavy is the head that wears the crown - and heavier is the hand that wears the ring binding them together. what happens when you're up for the role of a bride? or the future empress?

pairing: emperor!gojo x princess!reader, duke!Geto x princess!reader

content: mdni, angst and smut and fluff, royal fantasy sort of au (any sort of historical accuracy is thrown out the window here lol), she falls first, he falls harder, gojo is a spoiled brat at first lol, gojo getting brutally humbled, Geto trying to steal reader from him, falling in love, heavy pining/yearning, hurt/comfort, accidental voyeurism, oral (f! receiving), kidnapping, mentions of murder/injury/torture, handcuffs, character growth, possessive geto, political schemes, unprotected piv sex, light breeding kink, fingering, loss of virginity, multiple povs and positions, creampie, backshots, marriage, making out, extremely protective gojo, proposals, confessions

Satoru Gojo was born lucky.

Beautiful and blessed. The sole heir to an empire that spawned over centuries, more wishes and wealth than any man could dream afforded to him before he could even walk.

Anything he wanted was his.

And if he didn't want it?

"I don't like her," Gojo complained, glaring through the stained glass at his afternoon play date, a potential bride - although at age twelve, he was still at least a decade away from dealing with something as dreadful as marriage.

"Please be nice," His attendant reminded him, fixing the collars on his shirt and huffing as she hurried to fix a stray strand of hair. "She's a princess too, you know."

"She's strange," He muttered under his breath, watching you sit politely at the table, hands folded in your lap, only occasionally smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

It was too big on you, probably passed down from a sister or some other family member. Frayed at the helm, like it'd been worn quite a few times before.

Some princess you were.

You'd been clinging to the shadows his whole life, attending bi-annual balls with your family just to cling to the background like a piece of art no one bothered to look at. He wouldn't have noticed, really, but your attention was annoyingly always on him.

He promised to be on his best behavior before they shooed him out to greet you, rolling his bright blue eyes the second they turned around and sticking a bug in your tea ten minutes into your so-called date just to see you squeak.

You pushed off the table trying to stand up, but it just made your cup spill in your lap instead - bug included.

It was almost cute to watch you panic, brows pushed together in a frustrated pout as you desperately tried to clean yourself, maids and attendants rushing out to see the commotion and their young master responsible for it.

But somehow, you were the only one who got scolded for it. Watching you get the blame made him feel bad, a harsh stab of guilt pricking at him, but he was quick to push it down.

Just the perks of being a prince, he supposed.

You were the unlucky one here.

Gojo always got his way - so why should he marry you?

He didn't even have to complain this time - whatever distant family member that brought you to the palace caught some grave illness, and you returned with them to whatever impoverished kingdom you came from.

Occasionally, he'd receive letters from you over the next handful (or two) of years, time passing while they went unopened, shoved off on his aide while he busied himself with politics and parties. Going from a prince to an emperor while you were gone after his father passed. Geto halfheartedly scolded him for not replying to you, insisted he should maintain a positive relationship even if he wasn't going to marry you, but what was the point of listening when he was supposed to be the man everyone listened to?

You didn't attend the balls anymore, but your letters grew more frequent, at least two a month left in the stack on his desk before Geto snatched the pile to reply for him.

"Why is she sending so many?" Gojo groaned, picking up one and squinting at the neat script on the front of the envelope, the ornate wax seal carefully stamped on. He reclined back in his office chair, legs sprawled out as he traced over the ink splotches on the ivory.

"Hm?" Geto murmured, too distracted with whatever form he was filling out to look up. Despite being his aide, he was a Duke too, technically in the line for the throne and with people of his own to manage and business to attend to.

"Our favorite princess," He dryly replied. You'd become something of a joke, more with himself than to Geto. A constant that was never even there, a shadow that followed him despite the years and distance that separated you. A running gag of a girl who couldn't take a hint.

He caught a whiff of a surprisingly intoxicating perfume, blinking a few times before realizing it must be from your letter. Geto noticed what he was holding a second too late, but Gojo was already cutting the envelope open and pulling the papers out.

"Wait-"

"It's addressed to me, isn't it?" Gojo teased, standing up and walking over to the sun-lit window to read it.

And the first line in its pretty cursive and swirling letters had him laughing already.

"My dearest Satoru?" He repeated incredulously, glancing back over his shoulder at his very much guilty friend.

"Look," Geto started, dark eyes narrowed as he let out a sigh.

"Is she under the impression I'm the one writing to her?" Honestly, before this moment? He'd never considered what Geto did with any of yours letters after he received them. Perhaps just polite replies?

Nothing that would make you comfortable enough to call him that.

"Yes," Geto curtly answered, his face still stoic, unreadable as Gojo gaped at him.

"Suguru, seriously-" He scoffed, returning to reading the letter once more as he shook his head.

He wasn't sure really what he thought he'd find in it.

Something to laugh at? A few short paragraphs somehow still stammering about something random.

Not your sincere words, asking him questions and inquiring about his health and the last set of reforms he rolled out, as if you were genuinely interested in all of it. Casually writing about something that happened back near your own capitol, dropping names he didn't know and discussing the possibility of adapting similar laws there too.

"She's rather sweet," Geto murmured, standing up and brushing off his uniform as he walked over to snatch the letter back.

Gojo wasn't done reading though.

He scampered away, holding up the letter and squinting at the last paragraph, skimming over it just to freeze. "She's coming here?"

"She is an Empress candidate," Geto bluntly reminded him, his lips pushed together in a tight frown before he tugged the letter free from Gojo's hand.

A handful of women would be showing up this week for him to officially meet, despite knowing half of them for most of his life anyway. People were starting to get impatient with the way he was dragging his feet to the alter, rumors swirling and complaints piling that he hadn't picked a bride. Even internally, the staff was starting to get annoyed picking up the slack from the duties an Empress would typically take care of.

It made sense you'd be included. A princess from an ally kingdom, no matter how impoverished, was still a princess. Trained and molded for the role of a ruler from birth.

How could he pick a bride when no one held his attention? Was it just meant to be a boring business decision for everyone else's benefit but his?

"What? Am I supposed to pretend I'm the one who's been writing to her this whole time?" Gojo groaned, trying to imagine how that would even go.

Perhaps it would be like when you were kids, back when the last time he'd seen you was a fucking decade ago, and you were too shy to stutter out more than a few syllables.

Or maybe you'd changed so much that he wouldn't even recognize you.

"I will inform her myself that it was me," Geto grunted, smoothing out the letter and returning to his desk.

"No, just," Gojo paused, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just let me read over her letters and I'll take care of it."

"I would prefer-"

"It's fine, I can handle it," Gojo insisted.

If he was going to let you down gently, wasn't the least he could do was learn a little about you first?

✧

He still hadn't meant to stay up all night reading the letters Geto had saved.

Sweet couldn't cover it.

You were a mystery book he thought he'd solved just to get proven wrong page after page.

The shy wisp of a worm that would so rarely return has stare had morphed into a bright butterfly, speaking so comfortably in perfume-soaked letters, flower petals you dried added between the pages.

Your prose would go from soft to snarky, telling stories of your home, shaping tales of holidays and the hard months in-between of managing your family's estate and fulfilling the duties expected of you on a tight budget. Barely speaking of yourself, but painting him a picture of the world that surrounded you in pretty stokes, always devoting a page to asking about him, bringing up the details Geto must've given you.

It wasn't polite. It was intimate.

Real and raw in an odd sort of way, more than casual concern or anything close, carrying a weight he was unaccustomed to when you finished a letter off with the wish he'd be in your dreams that night.

And strangest of all?

Gojo found he didn't dislike it. Not one bit.

Rather, a faint flame of regret had been born, small and quiet in the pit of his stomach as he poured over your pretty cursive and wondered if perhaps he should've been the one responding all this time.

It might've been his face your first fallen for, these words were for Geto.

Would you still have replied so often it had been him?

Shared your adoration so ardently? Or would you have gotten sick of his humor? His bluntness and overbearing tendency to kill the joke before he'd finished telling it?

He spent the rest of the week reading them again and again once he retired back to his room, like some strange bedtime story.

He'd fallen asleep with the last one still in hand, the corner crumpled under his grip when he woke the next morning to the harsh sun.

Yawning as he rolled out, the palace in somewhat of a frenzy for today's guests, a commotion he could hear even from upstairs. And honestly?

His heart had worked itself in a frenzy too.

Would you be arriving today too?

What would you say when you saw him? Would you throw your arms around his neck or kiss his cheek?

So what if Geto happened to be the one who wrote you back?

Gojo felt like he knew you too. Knew the names of your family members and what the weather was like back home. Had memorized enough lines, etched the swirls and sweeps of your penmanship into his brain, the way you signed his name and how you dotted and crossed your letters. Studied up on your kingdom in his spare time, shame creeping in that he'd never bothered to before.

He padded across the room barefoot, stretching his long limbs and snagging a silk robe from off his armchair, tying it loosely around his waist before walking out to the balcony.

Carriages were pulled up in front of the open gates, luggage being unloaded onto the maintained path.

And as luck would have it, you were there.

He wasn't sure how he knew, or what even caught his eye, a familiar flash of your hair color, a glimpse of your face, but he knew. And fuck, you were gorgeous.

Pretty in a way he never paid attention to before.

An idiotic idea took shape in the back of his brain.

Who wouldn't be honored to have the Emperor personally come out to greet them?

ᡴꪫ

The palace was precisely how you remembered it.

Sprawling and sun-bathed, all the colors warmer, brighter than the rest of the world. Deep green grass and blossoming flowers lining the paths, vines climbing up the sides of the walls.

"Can you please send my bags ahead to my room? I'd like to look around the garden first," You smiled at the attendant, trying hard not to pick at the nails you'd spent so long painting last night at the inn you'd spent the night at. Bathing and exfoliating, waking up far too early to prepare for today. The first time you'd see your Satoru again.

The attendant curtly nodded, carrying your bags and hurrying up the path, and you wondered what else you might find here.

You weren't delusional enough to think Satoru would actually choose you when there were other more capable options. Women with more wealth and finer families, prettier too.

But he was your friend at least, wasn't he?

And sometimes, some people fell in love with their friends, right?

You walked down the weaving side paths, heading for a fountain you used to toss coins in as a child, wishing for the man you might marry now.

The stone sculpture sitting atop it was weathered, cracked and worn by rain and age, but the water was still a crystalline blue, coins littering the bottom and the sun bounced off the surface. You sat by the edge, fingers skimming over it and sending ripples across.

You didn't have any coins on you today.

What would you have wished for this time?

"Oh? It's bad luck to steal those, you know," A playful voice called out, starting you as your head snapped to the sound of it.

Satoru Gojo in the flesh. And uh, a robe.

Nothing else.

You blinked, blushing at the sight of his broad chest on display, his robe tied low enough you could fucking count his muscles, his hair mused and messed up like he just rolled out of bed, blue eyes still hazy with sleep.

"I wasn't planning on it," You wryly muttered, averting your gaze back to the fountain to stop yourself from staring, suddenly embarrassed. Still, there was a slight sense of familiarity, the way he smiled so easily at you, his knee brushing against your leg when he strolled closer.

"You're not excited to see me, princess?" He teased, plopping down next to you on the edge.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" You tilted your head to the side, studying his face, the barely-there dimple by his smirk, the thick lashes framing his eyes. They looked ever more beautiful than you remembered, the sky and the reflection from the water reflecting back in them.

"I should apologize for my truly terrible behavior back then," He chuckled, not entirely sorry at all, but confident enough you'd forgive him for it anyway.

He'd never been hated in his life.

Even at his worst, you couldn't crush the feelings that'd sprouted in your heart when you were younger and only bloomed with each letter he'd sent.

"Apologize then," You dared, something about his presence bringing out a boldness in you.

He leaned in a little closer, and you couldn't help the way your eyes flickered down to the soft pink of his lips as they formed the words. "I'm very sorry."

"Okay," You shrugged, feigning far more nonchalance than you felt.

"Do you forgive me?" He pouted, sticking a flower he must've plucked on the way here in your face.

"Did I say that?" You rolled your eyes, grabbing the flower and carefully examining the petals of the bright orange lily. "I suppose you must not know much about flowers."

"They're pretty," He hummed. "Like you."

"This one symbolizes passion," You murmured, picking a petal off and setting it afloat on the water. "Or hatred."

It was bad luck back home.

He laughed, leaning in closer while you picked off another petal, playing a crude game of he-loves-me-not in your own head while he watched.

You were on not when you heard someone approaching.

"Your Imperial Majesty," A cold voice called out, and you both turned to see a shrewd blond man pushing a thin pair of glasses up his nose.

"Nanamin, have you met-" Satoru grinned, slinging a muscled arm over your shoulder.

"You were supposed to meet Mei Mei half an hour ago," The blond man interrupted with a scoff, glaring pointedly at your host.

A flicker of jealousy shot through you, pierced your heart at the reminder you were just one of several women he was meant to entertain in the coming weeks.

"She'll live," Satoru dismissed with his hand, yawning as he shifted, spreading out his long legs like he was content to stay all day.

"Please don't make preferential treatment a problem on the first day," Nanami muttered, exasperated. "Even if the princess was was penpals with your friend."

"Satoru?" You glanced over at him, confusion probably scrawled over your face. But he was just wincing, well-aware of whatever he meant.

"It's not," He hesitated, jaw pulled tight. "I mean-"

The horrifying realization set in, all the hope draining from your body.

"Were you not the one writing to me?" You bluntly asked.

"Well, no, but-" Gojo admitted, and you suddenly felt ill. The breakfast you'd barely been able to get down threatening to make a reappearance, but a hot lump formed in your throat, and you couldn't swallow it. Choking on the idiotic dreams you'd had of him actually coming to like you at all. "I, I read your letters and-"

"I apologize if my letters were an inconvenience on your time," You politely said, switching on your manners before you shouted obscenities at him.

"I read them," He insisted again, as if that made it much better.

"You have a meeting to go to. Don't let me keep you," You coldly replied, holding your head high and tossing the rest of the flower in the fountain. You should find your room anyway, collapse into a real bed to cry in.

"Can we talk for a few moments? I don't want to end-"

"Your Imperial Majesty," You curtly cut him off, brushing off your skirt to stand. "I have no interest in your pity."

"Could you give me a chance?" He stood up after you, but you refused to give him so much as a second glance.

Your letters didn't deserve a reply. Why should he get any answers now?

✧

"What am I supposed to do?" Gojo groaned, head in his hands.

"Leave her alone?" Geto casually suggested, flipping through a newspaper and reclining back in an oversized armchair.

"She refuses to even speak to me at meals, ignores all the gifts I send her, I mean, what girl doesn't like flowers?"

"What do you want me to do?" Geto grunted.

"I dunno," Gojo shrugged, rubbing his eyes. He'd barely been sleeping, rereading your letters and struggling to understand why he was so stuck on whether or not you liked him.

It shouldn't matter.

It shouldn't bother him that you wanted nothing to do with him. It should make his life easier, really, one less person for him to pick from, one less person to disappoint.

Although he didn't really want to pick at all, desperate for another excuse to postpone the whole marriage charade.

"You'll be expected to dance with her at the banquet tomorrow night," Geto dryly muttered, probably just annoyed he'd also have to be in attendance too.

Gojo had been dragging him around everywhere he went, using him as a shield to keep the more forward women somewhat at bay. Most of them could be sorted in two groups. The ones that wanted what was under his clothes. And the ones that wanted what was on his head.

Mei Mei was the worst offender, making crude and cruel jokes disgusting by a glittering smile, always trying to threaten her way into the seat next to him, aiming for his throne next.

Money hungry and greedy in a way that gold still didn't fully suffice. She wanted everything.

Gojo would rather die than slip a ring on her finger, despite her influence on the other court ladies, despite her already substantial wealth and ties to some of the more powerful lords and merchants.

What power was theirs compared to his?

You stayed clear of the rest of the candidates, but Gojo kept dragging you back in to every event planned, your clipped voice and cold exterior only making him try harder to squeeze himself between the cracks in your armor.

Making a fool of himself by convincing the chefs to prepare cuisine from your kingdom just for you to politely decline and shut your bedroom door in his face. Consulting the gardener to get fresh cuttings for a bouquet of all the flowers you'd ever sent him, even rare strains from the conservatory, but you'd only grabbed the bundle before shutting the door on him again. Asking if you'd care to accompany him to tea when you bumped into each other in the hall just for you to decline.

He could probably count the number of real conversations you had on both hands, when you were stuck sitting next to him and he asked question after question, desperate for something he couldn't even name. Forgiveness? Your favor?

You were the most frustrating woman he'd ever met and he couldn't shake the feeling he wanted you to frustrate him for the rest of his life.

Every sharp sentence and pointed glare just dragged him deeper under your spell, pushing his head underwater just by rolling your eyes and scoffing his way, drowning in his own despair and desire.

"You think she'll let me?" Gojo murmured, sitting back down at his desk and pulling a clean sheet of paper from a drawer, snagging a pen.

"Probably not," Geto dismissed, grabbing a book from the shelf and heading for the door, only glancing back once before he pulled it open. "I wouldn't get your hopes up."

Gojo would just have to try anyway.

ᡴꪫ

You hated Satoru Gojo almost as much as you used to love him.

He was nothing like the letters. Not suave or smooth, no words layered with hidden meanings for you to unravel and savor. He didn't say all the right words or know what would soothe your hurt. In fact, everything he said was wrong.

Abrasive, blunt, cheeky, you could probably assign an adjective for every letter of the alphabet to him and still not run out of words. Even worse?

He was cute - in the most annoying way.

His persistence in persuing pestering you had started to grow on you, more like a mold than a flower. But still, you'd found yourself searching for him in the corner of every room, waiting for him to show up and slide into the seat next to you.

Asking an absurd amount of questions, always pinning his focus precisely on you like there'd be a quiz on your answers.

Every time you'd get close to having fun, you'd remember what you'd forgotten.

He could've asked you any of it in a letter.

So yeah, you loathed those pretty blue eyes that haunted your dreams, glittering and gleaming with freedom you'd never have. You could feel them on you even now, skimming over you with silent appraisal. Judging if you were up to his standards.

You hadn't been before, had you?

He had never bothered to put a pen to paper to personally write you back until now, a single sheet slipped under your door while you were getting ready for this insufferable banquet.

Save me a dance? - S

Was that the most he could muster?

You were such a fucking idiot for thinking someone like him would ever fall for someone like you.

"Mind if I join you?" A honeyed voice snapped your attention away from this evening's third glass of wine.

"Why not?" You shrugged your shoulders, glancing over to find the dark-haired man Gojo was usually with.

Was there something in the water here?

He was nearly as handsome as Gojo, just in a different way, his features sharper, more sweeping, his intense stare warm to disguise how calculating it really was, pretty lips curled up in a deceptively kind smile.

Still, your recognized him from the long hair alone. He was a Duke, a knight too if you recalled correctly, but really, it was his association with Gojo that had you so wary.

"I'm Suguru Geto," He introduced himself anyway, his eyes flickering down to your hand as he waited for you to offer it to him.

"I'm aware," You forced a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room for some other empty corner to slink off too. Gojo was watching both of you, probably displeased that his friend was infringing on his favorite joke? Pastime?

You weren't positive what box Gojo had put you in.

But then Geto grabbed your hand anyway, gracefully bending down to kiss the back of it. Sturdy fingers pressing into your palm and soft lips on your skin as your cheeks flushed with heat.

"Is it alright if I confess I know you too?" You froze, still staring down at the gorgeous man holding your hand and grazing his lips over your skin, the rest of the room forgotten.

"You do?" You breathed, too unsure to even move.

"I was the one replying to your letters," He admitted, and the flicker in his eyes held a fire you'd never seen directed at you.

"Oh?" Your voice pitched a little too high, sounding more like a squeak than seductive.

He chuckled, standing up straight but not letting go of your hand. He stepped closer, and you noticed how tall he was, probably the same height as Gojo, hovering over you all broad and strong, his frame well-built from years of training.

His stare was too intense to meet, your eyes flickering away just to notice a white-hot glare directed your way. Or, well, his way.

Gojo's stare was glued to the two of you, obviously jealous and jaded in a way you hadn't conceived he might be capable of. A thrill ran up your spine, sucking in a shallow inhale as Geto's other hand found your waist.

"Would you care for a dance?"

✧

Gojo was seething in silence.

He knew he was staring, he knew other people were probably staring at him. But he couldn't manage to tear his eyes away from you.

You looked almost ethereal, makeup and hair carefully styled by the maids he'd sent over, subtle and soft and glowing. You were wearing a gown he'd custom ordered last minute, a pretty shade of silver that was supposed to match the medals and pins adorning his own outfit. Meant to be a pair.

And yet, there you were, being swept off your feet by Geto, his hands on your waist and yours crossed around his neck. Grinning at something he was saying, having fun.

Jealousy tasted worse than he ever imagined.

Acidic and sour, unable to focus on the conversation surrounding him, too absorbed in the way your face lit up when you laughed.

He was approaching before the song even ended, pawning his drink off to a passing waiter, the crowd naturally parting for him until he approached you and your dance partner.

"I trust you're having fun?" Gojo greeted, putting on his best smile to hide the fact he was fuming inside. Geto's hand lingered on your back, just a little too low to be proper and polite.

"If I say yes, will you return to your harem?" Your smile was barbed with thorns, hurt and humiliation still burning under its surface.

"I'm a one-woman man," He protested with a pout. And sure, he had a bit of an, um, unsavory reputation for being a flirt, but he was technically still a virgin.

Having sex when just a single slip-up could carry repercussions for the rest of his reign was a bit of a turn-off.

"Oh, I'm sure you're much too busy to entertain women when you have someone else handling your matters for you," You coolly replied.

"Would you allow me to apologize to you properly then? Over a dance?" He asked, trying to ignore the way Geto stiffened, his fingers digging a little harder into your side. "Just one and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the night."

"Fine," You relented, glancing up at Geto with a look he wished you'd give him instead. "Perhaps we can finish this conversation afterwards?"

"Of course, Your Highness," Geto murmured, clearly teasing judging by the way your lips curled up in a smile at the cheek tone he used your title.

Taking his place by your side, Gojo pulled you close, a hand on the your back as you reluctantly slipped your much smaller hander in his, wishing you weren't wearing gloves so he could feel the warmth of your palm.

You matched his steps, your focus always just past him, refusing to meet his eyes as he lead you through the dance.

"Sincerely, I am sorry, I should've just replied to your letters myself," He murmured, hoping you could hear it in his voice that he meant it. "I don't have an excuse."

"I shouldn't have expected you to write me back, I suppose," You sighed, swallowing hard.

"No, it's my fault," Gojo admitted. Sure, Geto usually read through his letters and decided what to pass on to him anyway, but still, he'd seen your name, had made the decision himself to let Geto take care of it.

"Am I supposed to beg to be your bride now that you've graced me with an apology?" You wryly said, and the way your lips curled up in the faintest smirk when you mocked him made his heart stall in his chest.

How was he supposed to say he was starting to consider begging you to be his bride?

"I wouldn't be entirely opposed," He tried to joke back just for you to stomp on his foot. It was worth the pain to see you smile.

"Oops," You shrugged, and he just squeezed your hand, pulling you in closer by your back before dipping you down low.

And fuck, he wished he could capture the enthralling expression on your face forever.

The way your lips parted in a surprised gasp, your eyes going wide and lashes fluttering while he held you. It felt like someone had knocked all the air out of his chest, unable to catch his breath when you looked at him like that.

"Mind if I cut in?" Mei Mei purred, grabbing his arm before Gojo had even brought you back up to your feet.

"Be my guest," You murmured, a little dazed as your gaze flickered from him to her. Resigned.

"Wait a moment," Gojo started, spit looking in the back of his mouth.

"Have a good night, Your Imperial Majesty."

"The song's not over yet," He pleaded, a hint of panic seeping in at the last few seconds he'd get to spend in your company this evening. Geto was watching with a drink in hand, an annoying smirk curled up on his lips. A snake waiting to strike.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

✧

Would it be so bad for him to behead a bitch?

She just wouldn't stop talking, and that was coming from him.

"I really must return," Gojo interrupted her story, glancing around the deserted part of the garden Mei Mei had dragged him to. The moon was hanging high overhead, stars dusting the sky, thin clouds threatening to cover them up.

It was dull, really.

You were prettier.

Was this what falling in love felt like?

Finding you in the stars and in the flowers, a song that never left his head and made his heart ache, your laugh a melody stuck on loop in his mind.

"Is that so?" Mei Mei hummed, unamused.

He blinked, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. But she didn't leave.

"Has your mind already been made then? On our next Empress?" She slyly asked. Not on his bride, or his wife. Just who would get the title.

"Excuse me?" Gojo still feigned innocence.

"It's obvious who has your favor," Mei Mei simply said, a razored edge to her voice.

"I haven't made my decision," He shrugged, like it wasn't just because he was pretty sure you'd say no if he asked. His time was running out though, only a few days left until he was expected to make an announcement or extend everyone's stay.

"Well, I suggest you reconsider," Mei Mei chided, barely even bothering to disguise her threat. She disappeared down a path, not stomping, but clearly displeased.

Gojo ignored her, folding his arms and watching a cloud drift by lazily above, wispy but just enough to conceal the moon anyway.

Would you still be inside? Or had you slipped back to your room at the first opportunity?

He was planning on keeping his promise to you, but he'd prefer it if you stayed even if he could only stare from afar.

And would it be completely delusional to believe tonight was progress?

He glanced back up at the stars, thanking them silently for sending that headache of a woman away when he heard it.

Your laugh.

His head whipped around, searching before he spotted you. With Geto.

You were leaning back against the railing of a nearby balcony overhead, giggling at something he was saying to you, head tilted to the side as you nodded along.

Gojo wasn't really thinking, brain unfortunately utterly blank as he stepped closer.

"Does your silver tongue typically work on women?" You were teasing Geto.

"I've never tried," Geto purred back. Liar.

"Oh?" You didn't believe him either.

"Is it working on you?" He inquired, and Gojo wanted to shout or scream to stop the seconds from slipping by and your heart slipping away with them when he saw the smile on your face, the subtle way your stare drifted over his friend before you shrugged.

He wasn't sure how it happened, only catching Geto's mouth moving before your own parted, surprised and unsure before you hesitantly nodded. Then Geto was leaning in for a kiss, a calloused hand cupping your face and adjusting it just slightly so he could kiss you how he liked.

You kissed him back.

Gojo knew he should leave.

Pretend he hadn't seen a second of your private exchange.

But just as quickly as his lips were pressed to yours, they were ghosting down your throat, leaving a trail of delicate pecks as Geto's other hand hiked up your dress.

Getting down on his knees and holding your hips steady while he left love bites across your thighs, sharp teeth sinking into your soft flesh.

But Gojo's gaze had already shifted back to your face, the way you leaned your head back as your fingers sifted though his silky strands of black hair, tugging Geto closer when two of his own fingers hooked over the thin band of your pretty lace panties.

He almost wondered if Geto had anticipated an audience, set the stage with you as an unwitting performer, your eyes fluttering closed and a gorgeous gasp escaping when he did, in fact, prove just how effective his tongue could be.

Gojo dismissed the thought, dissolving back into the shadows as he forced himself to follow the nearest cobbled path as far away from this evening's show as possible.

It felt like a declaration of a cold war.

Who was Gojo to turn down a challenge?

✧

Conceiving a new strategy was harder than he thought.

He's stayed up half the night creating plans just to crumple up the paper and toss it in the trash.

You were cold and considerate and could probably break his heart in a million different ways, but he was tempted to just glue it back together for you to break again.

Eventually, he'd requested for Geto to come to his room the next morning, halfway debating dropping hints that he'd seen his risque rendezvous before deciding to just pretend he was oblivious to whatever was brewing between the two of you.

"You called?" Geto murmured.

Gojo fixed his own shirt collar and noted his friend's reflection in the mirror, the long, dark hair tied off his neck in a low ponytail, bangs sticking to his forehead and uniform wrinkled from wear.

"Would you mind arranging breakfast with her?" He heard himself ask, knowing he didn't need to specify who and studying Geto's expression in the mirror, the drop of hostility that disappeared just as quickly as it flashed over his face. "In the conservatory?"

"I'll go by her room and request she join you," He nodded, a sharp jerk of his head. Sweat was still sticking his bangs to his forehead, worn from an early-morning training session Gojo had missed.

Geto left before Gojo could ask for anything else.

Was it jealousy?

Did he just not want Geto to take something he thought was his?

He almost wished it was, almost wished he could pin the blame and point a finger at some shitty side of himself for the growing feelings stirring in his chest.

It was need.

The pathetic kind that festered on his denial, that grew more the harder he fought it.

He'd been handed everything his whole life, and you were the first he was painfully aware he'd never deserve.

He had a chance and fucked it up.

You weren't exactly the most forgiving type.

Wouldn't bend to his will or beg him for affection. And for some bizarre reason, it just made him crave yours all the more.

He had a feeling even if you did show him an ounce of it, if he was actually lucky enough to be showered in your adoration, he'd be still chasing you for more until he was bones, buried somewhere and probably bound to follow you even into the next life.

Gojo found himself double and triple checking the plates and utensils in the conservatory, rearranging the placemats and adjusting muffins on trays to stop himself from anxiously glancing over to the entrance every five seconds.

Did you decline?

Feign an illness or fake an accident just to avoid him more?

When the doors finally opened, it wasn't you. It wasn't even Geto.

A panicked cluster of his staff and a few guards, hurrying over to him with nervous expressions. He spotted Nanami amidst all the chaos, a deep crease between his brows as he bypassed the rest of his companions.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Nanami coldly greeted with a small bow. "There seems to be an issue."

"What kind?" Gojo was grinding his teeth, icy dread seeping into his blood, veins freezing over while he examined the panic in everyone's eyes.

"It seems the princess is not in her room this morning," Nanami bluntly said.

"Or in the palace," One of the guards nervously added.

"I don't understand," He simply said. "Where is she?"

"W-we're not sure, Your Imperial Majesty, we've searched and-"

"Search again," Gojo commanded.

You couldn't be missing. You promised him. Okay, perhaps not promise. But you said you'd see him tomorrow. And it was tomorrow. You were probably curled up in a hidden nook of the library, or perhaps taking an early morning nap in some unused corner of the garden. Fuck, he'd even rather you be sleeping in under Geto's sheets than just gone.

They just weren't searching hard enough, right?

ᡴꪫ

The rest of the world was dark.

You tried to move, but your hands were tied behind your back, ankles ensnared together and after a few panicked seconds, you realized that there must be some kind of blindfold covering your eyes too.

The harder you tried to wiggle out, the tighter the bindings felt, and a fresh wave of terror immobilized you. If you screamed, would someone here and come to save you? Or would it bring whoever kidnapped you back?

Fear for the latter forced you to freeze, only subtly feeling around for anything nearby once you realized you were laying on your side on something soft. You tried to roll over, but you only dropped down to land on the cold wooden floor of what you guessed was a cabin, hitting your cheek hard on the solid ground.

Your memory was hazy. There was the banquet, dancing with Gojo before Geto walked you back to your room and dragged you out to the balcony. His hands on your body and his warm mouth dancing over your skin. But he'd kissed your forehead good night after it was over, suggesting you sleep well before and leaving while the moon was still high. Afterwards, you vaguely recalled getting ready for bed, changing and drinking a cup of tea before last night? Two nights ago?

It wasn't like you had any way to know how much time had passed.

You were a unfortunately starving though, throat parched and lips cracked.

Would anyone bother looking for you?

Satoru was probably busy picking his future bride, a position you'd been a fool to think you could ever fill. You barely knew Suguru, despite the letters and the longing you'd felt in his stare. Not nearly enough to come to your rescue and risk himself.

If it was about a ransom, your family wouldn't pay it.

Winter would be there soon, and feeding the mouths of many were more important than the life of one. You weren't an exception.

You didn't know how long you laid there, listening out for the slightest sounds and trying to make judgments of where you could be and why they'd even bother taking you.

"Should we feed her?" A guy grumbled, his voice muffled and hardly audible, separated by at least a wall.

"No," A woman's huff, haughty and irritated.

"But what if-"

"He's going to make the announcement tonight. He can't delay it any longer," She condescendingly scolded, and the voice clicked. One of the other candidates. Mei Mei. Just another misfortune in your life with Gojo to blame at the helm. "We'll let her go afterwards."

"A-alright," The guy probably responsible for guarding you grunted.

"Just dump her somewhere she'll be found after midnight," Mei Mei instructed, and then there was the sound of heels clicking, a neigh of a horse in the distance, a carriage probably waiting to return her to the palace.

They wouldn't bother investigating if you were recovered safely after all. No point wasting resources on a poor princess who'd be leaving without a ring soon.

Just so Mei Mei could claim her new crown.

A burning stake of indignation stabbed through you. She'd gone through the trouble of kidnapping you for what? As if Gojo would've ever actually chosen you.

All you'd shared was a handful of awkward conversations and a slow dance.

You couldn't decide what you thought of this current hin. His easy smiles and burning eyes. The way he wore everything he felt on his face when he was around you, like he was just as conflicted as you.

Who was he really? A spoiled man who thought a sorry could did everything? Or was there sincerely in those pink lips?

You supposed it didn't matter.

He wouldn't come for you.

✧

"I'm not announcing shit," Gojo growled, ripping up the fourth letter slid under the crack in his door in the past thirty minutes from impatient advisors and worried maids about whether or not they needed to set up the ceremony hall.

"It's unfortunate, but-"

"Unfortunate?" He scoffed, interrupting Geto mid-sentence. "She's clearly been kidnapped."

"And she'll be returned," Geto calmly explained. "It has to be someone associated with one of the other candidates. Mei Mei would be my guess."

"So let's arrest her," Gojo whined, boots squeaking as he paced the floor.

It'd been three days.

Three long days of looking everywhere, organizing searches and setting up shifts to find you. Rumors had started to spread that perhaps you'd run away, hiding somewhere and pretending to be a peasant just so you didn't have to marry him.

Gojo refused to believe that. Not when there was the slightest sliver of a possibility you needed his help somewhere.

"What if she decides to get rid of the evidence then?" Geto argued, attempting to be the voice of reason while Gojo's panic ran free.

Would Mei Mei get rid of you?

She was clearly fucking crazy enough to kidnap you.

"What do you suggest then?" Gojo grunted, struggling to reign himself in, to keep himself collected enough to have the same objectivity.

"Proceed with the announcement as planned," Geto murmured. "They'll probably leave her for us to find at some village or town close to wherever they're hiding her at. Just pretend you don't know anything and we can arrest Mei Mei for her part in it once we have proof."

Gojo guessed it made sense if Geto's suspicions about their motives were correct. It would give him a reason to re-do this whole fucked up charade of choosing a wife. Give him a second chance to prove he was going to pick you. To convince you he cared.

He still felt absolutely useless now though.

What good was power if he couldn't use it to keep even just one person safe?

"What if they don't?" His strong shell was cracking, broken bits and jagged edges revealed with every frustrated word.

"I'll keep looking for her anyway," Geto reassured.

It didn't make him feel better.

It was stupid and selfish, but Gojo wanted to be your hero for once, play the knight who swept in at the last minute to save you from someone evil. Show that he could love you too - if you just let him.

"Go look," Gojo muttered, running his fingers through his hair and swallowing hard, the regret growing roots in his guts already.

He might not be the man of your dreams today.

But he was a better one than yesterday. Learning to be the kind of guy who'd let someone else take the spotlight if it meant you'd be safe.

To know you're okay.

And maybe?

He still had a chance to be yours someday.

ᡴꪫ

You never actually expected to be rescued.

Or, at least, you hoped that's what the commotion was outside. Swords clanging and the gross sound of squelching through the door before it swung open with a creak, banging into the wall as the floorboards groaned.

You flinched and something sharp grazed against your skin. But then you felt warmth, a large hand grabbing your arm before you heard him.

"Stay still for me," Geto murmured, holding you in place while he cut off all your bindings. You tried not to move, relief flooding through you once all your limbs were once again free, and he tugged the blindfold off.

It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the light, blinking as he helped you to your feet just for them to collapse from underneath you. He hurried to remove his cloak, covering up your torn and tattered nightdress with it with a quiet chuckle, picking you up and cradling you against his warm body once he sheathed his blood-stained sword.

"Sorry it took so long," He hm-ed, his voice honey in your eyes, soothing over your injuries and soaking into your skin.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing would come out, your throat too sore to form words. He pulled out a leather waterskin with his free hand, unscrewing the top and bringing it to your lips.

You only managed a few short sips, just enough to dull the ache before he brought it back down to his belt.

There were other voices, men you couldn't see, talking amongst themselves, fellow knights you guessed. Your heart felt a little strange at the thought Gojo had actually sent more than one person to search for you - that he hadn't just given up.

Or was it all Geto's doing?

"We have to head back now," He murmured, brushing your hair away from your face with a soft sigh. "We're running a little late."

Late for what, exactly?

"No," You managed, shaking your head and clinging to his shirt harder. What would await you there next? Being dragged to the altar? Or forced to watch Gojo announce he belonged to someone else?

"No?" Geto echoed, amusement reflecting in his dark eyes.

"Can't we go somewhere else?" You croaked, voice cracking every couple words. "Your estate?"

Would that be considered a scandal? One of the Empress candidates ditching Gojo for a Duke instead?

You wanted to believe that maybe that wouldn't be so bad. You'd be safe. Secure.

He wouldn't make your stomach flip or your heart ache. Wouldn't weigh on your soul the way Gojo did, wouldn't claw his way into each waking thought no matter how many times you scratched him out.

A quiet love that grew over time. One you could live with.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Geto slyly said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I'll take care of you."

✧

"I'm glad you came to your senses."

Gojo was just glad he'd be able to throw Mei Mei in a cell and toss the key down a drain in two hours.

But first?

He just had to make it through this fake announcement, plastering on a polite smile and put on a show in front of his people to promise he'd found their next Empress.

Even if standing next to someone who made him sick.

Mei Mei kept edging closer, leaning down to probably murmur another mocking assessment of the situation before the wide double doors swung open to the ceremony hall, whispering and gasps erupting from the crowd as everyone turned around.

Seeing you in Geto's arms with another woman clinging to his was a kind of cruelty Gojo had never known.

The way your cheek was pressed against Geto's chest, fingers holding onto his shirt like he was your savior made Gojo's breath hitch in his throat. He was halfway down the first steps when his fake bride-to-be grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

Your wrists were raw, you lips parched, a bruise on your cheek making it apparent to anyone with eyes you hadn't just run away. A cloak draped over you like you were in something indecent under it, hopefully just a nightgown instead of something worse.

"Are you ok-"

"Don't come closer," Geto called out, and there was the soft clink of someone reading for their sword. It wasn't him, but the guards by his side.

"What?" Gojo almost laughed, blinking hard like he was waiting to get the joke.

He was flanked before Geto even got to the punchline.

"You're under arrest for treason," He coldly answered, and Gojo was too stunned to put up a fight when they put him in heavy iron cuffs.

How the fuck could he commit treason?

He was the emperor, the sun and the stars and the sky. He supposed he'd failed to consider it meant little if he didn't have support, if the pillars upholding him crumbled and cracked.

The sky had fallen. His luck has run dry.

"For the murder of your father, the previous Emperor, as well as-" Geto listed names like a death sentence, family members he'd never spared a second thought for when they passed, all accidents or early illnesses he hadn't even considered suspicious.

His most trusted advisor, his closest friend, was fucking framing him.

Had he been set up from to start?

Chained up like some animal while Geto delivered the charges stony-faced with you clutching his clothes and watching the scene unfold. Mei Mei was being cuffed too behind him, read off her own offenses for orchestrating your kidnapping. Or had that been apart of Geto's plan too?

This wasn't a mistake or misunderstanding.

This was a coup.

Judging by the hurt in your eyes, the pretty part of your lips as you stared at him in disbelief, you were just as confused and clueless as him.

He'd forgotten happy endings were typically reserved for children reading fairytales.

He wasn't prince charming. Wasn't the guy who got the girl.

Was it even destiny or was Gojo was just damned to be the villain in your story.

ᡴꪫ

Something was wrong.

A certain heaviness in the air, the strained looks cast your way every time Suguru took you somewhere new, a bakery to buy you fresh pastries or the seamstress designing your wedding gown. Somber and grim, like they knew a secret you didn't.

Gojo had ruled with strength, sincerity.

People were just scared of Suguru.

You supposed your rushed marriage was a sign in itself, the diamond on your finger a collar of a different size. Getting married in a month was fast even by royal standards.

But Suguru insisted. It was important to seal the union between your family's kingdom and the already oversized empire he'd stolen from under Gojo's nose.

Stolen wasn't the correct word, you guessed.

But that's what it felt like, didn't it?

Blindsided and burned by his most trusted ally and dragged to the dungeon to wait for a trial that kept getting delayed.

The accusations were hard to accept.

The idea that the same guy who showed up to your door with big bouquets and offered to share his dessert with you during meals, asking approximately a hundred times if everything was to your taste, desperate for the smallest bit of approval could also be a stone-cold murderer? Serial killer if what Suguru was saying was true?

You couldn't picture him poisoning his own father.

Setting up hunting accidents or pushing someone off a high ledge.

But what else were you supposed to believe when Suguru had suggested marriage just two days after they locked Gojo up? Swearing it was for the stability and safety of both of your people. Promising that he'd loved you long before he met you. That somewhere in between all those letters he'd been longing for you all this time.

But the weeks had only brought growing unease about the entire situation, walking into hushed conversations and asking questions just to get shut up with firm kisses and a hand up your dress.

So you kept your suspicions to yourself.

Let him show you off and concealed your thoughts in your letters back home to a family whose only replies concerned how your future would benefit theirs.

"You're distracted," Suguru commented, peppering kisses across your collarbone while you stared at the window of what you supposed was previously Gojo's office.

"Just a little strange, I guess, everything moving so quickly," You absentmindedly replied, gasping when his canines scraped suddenly against the thin skin over your tendons.

"It'll settle down soon," He reassured, the hand on your back pulling you closer, readjusting your position on his lap.

You just weren't sure if you'd like what you'd find after the dust settled.

Someone knocked.

Quick and quiet, waiting for Suguru to call back out before coming in. You recognized the man, Nanami, the same one from the first day you arrived, but the most you'd seen him since was nose-deep in paperwork, always someplace to be and something to do.

"My apologies for interrupting," He stoically delivered the words, deliberately avoiding addressing Suguru since his title had yet to be changed.

The coronation wasn't scheduled until after your marriage.

"It's fine," Suguru murmured, dismissively waving his other hand while the other discreetly slipped lower down to your thigh.

"Do you have the documentation and ledgers for the trial?" Nanami asked, removing his glasses and cleaning the lenses off on his clean and tidy shirt, pushing them back up his nose with a bored expression.

"Sure," Suguru muttered, pulling out a drawer to grab a short stack of papers, all bearing the same name.

Satoru Gojo.

"Evidence of him purchasing the herbs he used on his father," Suguru tsk-ed, sliding them across the desk to Nanami.

Your stomach churned. There was just one small problem.

The signature was one you recognized well. You spent years memorizing it after all.

So you could say for certain it didn't match the only note the real Satoru Gojo had ever left you.

ᡴꪫ

The dungeon was cold, the stone floor freezing as you hurried to pad over as silently as you could to the cell at the end. You guessed you only had about five minutes before the guards would return from the change in rotation.

Iron-wrought bars stretched from the floor to the ceiling, only a small window allowing a sliver of moonlight in, a cruel reminder of the outside he couldn't reach.

This was an awful idea.

One you might even be risking your life for.

But wasn't Gojo's on the line already?

"Am I lucky enough to get a good night kiss, angel? Or is it goodbye?" Gojo wryly teased once he saw you through the dark, his sense of humor unfortunately still in tact. It was bitter, the sound of a man that'd been betrayed.

"Quiet," You hissed, glancing over your shoulder down the corridor. "I'm not supposed to be here."

Suguru might be looking for you already.

You'd excused yourself from dinner early, feigning a headache and pretending to sleep through the three different maids periodically peeking in to check on you before you guessed he believed you really did feel ill. But who knows if he'd still send another? Suguru was the only person more paranoid than you.

It was getting increasingly more difficult to act normal around him. What if you were apart of some plan or next on his list?

He clearly had no problems deceiving you.

Honestly, the longer you thought about it, the more you found wrong with him. How he'd taken over Gojo's life so seamlessly. How convenient it was for him to find you right on time to make his grand entrance. How rumors had started spreading that he'd taken Mei Mei's tongue just so she couldn't even confirm if he had any part in the scheme.

"Yeah?" Gojo chuckled, softer now, pushing off the grimy ground to stand, his hands still cuffed and a heavy collar around his throat chained to the wall. Not even afforded the smallest freedom here. They knew he wasn't going to escape. It was about humiliating him. Shrinking him down to some humble size. He managed to take a few steps closer, stopping just short of the bars between you. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company then?"

"Are they feeding you?" You whispered.

"Occasionally."

You tugged out the loaf hidden inside your cloak, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you hesitantly stuck your hand through the slats, stretching your arm so the tip was grazing against his lips. You had to sneak into the kitchen to steal it, a few candies you'd been saving also tucked into your pocket.

"You must be hungry then," You mumbled, refusing to meet his eye as he took the first few nibbles.

"Why'd you come?" He grunted through hungry bites, and you could feel the way those brilliant eyes sized you up, refusing to dull even after who knows how long without food.

They were treating him like a feral mutt, something that'd snap his jaws around your throat if released. But he looked more like a puppy like this, tilting his head the side and eating out of your hand. If only his collar was lined with gems instead of made from heavy metal.

"You didn't do any of it, did you?" You asked, even if just forming the words felt like a betrayal to Suguru.

"My only crime was trusting my, ah, your friend," He corrected himself with a huff, like his attitude could hide how much he was hurting. Bruises littered his face, his fancy outfit filthy. "Or is he your fiancé now?"

You didn't answer, but his eyes flickered down the the engagement ring perched on your finger.

He made a noise, half a grunt and half a laugh.

"Of course."

"I don't think I have much choice in the matter," You excused. You hadn't wanted to believe that at first, but the past couple days had you considering how much of your control was just a carefully crafted illusion.

What would Suguru have done if you said no to him? If you insisted on going back home?

You swallowed hard, meeting Gojo's sharp stare, squinting at you with more sadness than suspicion.

"You should leave," He finally said, as if he was telling you to take the last life jacket on a sinking ship. Trying to convince you to save yourself.

"I have a duty," You murmured, unsure of what it even meant anymore. Raised to rule correctly, to be just and fair in all matters. To put everyone else before yourself.

It wasn't a risk of Suguru retaliating if he discovered your deception - it would be a reality. For all you knew, you could be locked up right next to Gojo just for being here.

But for some stupid reason, you just couldn't let this go.

Couldn't stay silent while Suguru condemned him to death or a miserable life locked in a cage.

"You don't. Not to me," Gojo frowned, ignoring the rest of the bread. Freeing you from the burden of his fate. "So go. Get as far away from him as possible."

You wished you could.

"I'm going to get you out of here," You promised, hating yourself for giving him hope you were hardly confident in. You tucked the bread back under your arm, snagging one of the sweet candies from your pocket and unwrapping the shiny gold paper.

"I won't hold you to that," He chuckled, his voice raspy.

The man you thought he was didn't exist anymore. Maybe never had.

Even here, he was hellbent on making you second guess and get stuck on every word that left his lips.

So you pressed the candy to them instead and they partied for you naturally, letting you place the drop on his tongue. His lips were probably soft before, now cracked as they grazed over your fingertips.

Funny how it felt like a kiss.

Funnier how you were thinking about it still sneaking back into bed an hour later, carefully hanging your coat back up and hiding the last of the bread to discard later.

You had to come up with an excuse to scribble on a note to Suguru the next morning, claiming to need a few final addresses for wedding invitations to approach the one man you suspected could assist you.

He certainly hadn't expected you, the only evidence you had hidden in your dress when you stepped into his office.

"I need your help."

✧

Your promise lingered in his brain like the taste of candy on his tongue.

Really, you owed him nothing. No kindness. No assistance.

You were risking everything. Your kingdom, your chance at being Empress, even your own life just to help him.

The fact you didn't expect anything from him made it worse.

No debt you wanted him to owe or reward to be received.

Was that what the duty you spoke of was? To do the right thing at the cost of yourself? Why were you so willing to pay it?

Waiting in the dark and the grime with no distractions. His only company the guard dropping by once in the morning to release his cuffs and offer his lone meal for the day and the second one in the evenings coming back to bind his hands again.

They never removed the collar.

All the old wounds of people passing ripped open again. The harsh truth of being left and only that had scarred over his heart split open and needing new stitches.

He understood why Geto did it. For the power. The control. Having the world at his whim and word.

Gojo just didn't understand how he could do it to him.

Geto had helped him plan the funerals, easing the burden and bringing him food when he forgot to eat, promising to handle the paperwork and take some of the pressure off of him. Knowing damn well what really happened.

Now he was mourning all the lives lost - including his own.

The pale light from the window cut into the stone to mark the passage of time, but it only reminded him of his miserable conditions more.

The barren cot and blank walls, the toilet in the corner for him to use. Nothing to compare to his lavish bedroom just a few floors away.

Was Geto using the suite now? Taking you to his bed, your plush thighs pushed to your chest and your dress discarded on the thick rug or wooden floor somewhere? Hair splayed out across the silk sheets as your head tilted back on his pillows, letting out some lewd moan?

God, he'd rather just get executed now if that was the case.

Days passed without your return, occupied only by the thought of your face, the way you smiled at him, just that once, the crinkle by your eyes when you laughed after you stepped on his toes.

Another morning had come.

Today's guard was particularly smug, a crude grin on his scarred face when he barked orders at him to turn around so he could remove his cuffs.

Except, the second the heavy weight fell away, his left ring finger was grabbed, and in two short seconds crushed, a sick snap echoing in the small chamber. A gutteral sound escaped Gojo, strangled and pained.

"Big day," The guard mocked, letting go and walking away without another word.

For a second, he wondered if this was it. If they had bypassed a trial entirely and he'd been sentenced to his death without a second thought. But then he looked down at his hand, clutching his broken finger as he bitterly realized what the brute was hinting at.

He didn't want to believe it.

But the movement over his head, the busy bodies and voices filtering through the ceiling from the floor only reinforced the idea.

A royal wedding.

Geto was going to marry you.

Take his place in every way possible.

Tighten your leash too, pin your fate to his to prevent you from coming to Gojo's rescue.

The hope he'd been holding onto had faded, only left with the heartache of knowing he was stuck. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go.

Trapped in a stone tomb.

He wasn't sure how long he stood. Lead limbed and broken in more places he could count. But the ache in his heart was all you.

Trying to imagine what how you felt. If you were wearing a white dress. How a tiara would look sitting pretty nestled on top of your hair. Or maybe a custom crown made to match the one he used to wear.

If he was granted a final wish, he hoped it'd be your forgiveness, or maybe that goodbye kiss.

Footsteps approached, and he wondered if the guard had come back to break another finger. And honestly, he was thinking about just letting him if it meant his mind would be torn away from thinking about you.

But the man in front of him removed his polished silver helmet to reveal the last person he expected.

Who would've guessed Nanami would be his knight in shining armor?

"Shut up," The blond preemptively scoffed before Gojo could get a joke out, key in hand as he hurried to unlock the heavy door, careful to push it open slowly so it wouldn't creak.

"Where is she?" Gojo hoarsely asked, throat sore and aching from the limited water he'd been living on lately.

"Getting married," Nanami muttered, brows drawn together in a deep scowl as he flipped through his keys for the right one to unlock the collar around Gojo's throat, the skin rough and raw when he finally yanked it off.

"Over my dead body," Gojo gritted his teeth, as Nanami removed his armor as quickly as possible, passing him pieces for him to quickly get dressed in. A clever disguise to get out of here unnoticed.

"Geto would certainly prefer that," Nanami sarcastically sighed as Gojo tugged on the silver helmet at the end.

"What's the plan?" Gojo asked, out-of-breath already, his body not used to the exertion.

"Remind the people who their real emperor is," His former secretary tsk-ed, as if it should be obvious to him. "I'll handle the proof."

Sneaking out was easier than he expected, the guard that was supposed to on-duty passed out drunk when they walked by. Gojo guessed Nanami had somehow slipped sleeping pills in his bottle.

Gojo stole his sword and sheath as he stepped over him.

His finger ached, swelling up under his glove. But he gripped the handle tighter, refusing to switch it to the other hand if not for his own proof of the pain Geto so casually inflicted.

He only sheathed it after Nanami brought up it might blow their cover.

Nanami led him through corridors he hadn't even been in before, back hallways that connected and bypassed the heavily-traveled ones, but the chatter kept growing closer as they approached the ceremony hall.

Were you already in there? Had you walked down the aisle? Was Geto's hand in yours just waiting for you to say your vows? To bind your soul to his?

"Can you walk faster?" Gojo impatiently huffed, jaw clenched.

What if they didn't make it in time?

What if-?

They made it to the an open door, Nanami giving the guard by the side entrance a curt nod as they found a gap just big enough in the knight's scattered formation for them not to stand out.

The priest was going on a long drone about commitment, consideration, the connection between hearts in love. Gojo wasn't sure if Geto even had a heart anymore.

His sharp blue eyes focused on you, drowning in your wedding dress, the corset cinched too tight on purpose to push your chest up, the skirt a ridiculous pouf of fabric below the waist, covered in a shimmery fabric that glittered every time you moved.

Something to distract the crowd from noticing your face, your forced smile painted pink and the eyeliner and mascara smudged around your tear line like you'd been crying.

You were still the most beautiful bride he'd ever seen, his chest straining and heart jumping into his throat to choke up his breathing.

"If anyone objects to this union, speak-"

"I object," Gojo stepped forward without a second thought, his focus solely on you, watching your eyes widen the second they met his.

"Satoru," You breathed his name, shaky and sincere and hopeful.

"How the fuck is he here?" Geto hissed to the closet knight, stepping in front of you to block your body from his sight.

You pulled away from him, trying to rush past him but his arm caught you by your waist, pulling you back into his chest. Gojo was moving forward on instinct, panic surging through him at the sight of Geto putting his hands on you, only hesitating to draw the sword in case he might hurt you. But you hurt Geto first, elbowing him just hard enough to catch him by surprise and slipping away before he could catch you again.

Your heels were giving you trouble, nearly stumbling as you tried to slip between the confused crowd, already whispering between themselves as the slow realization started to set in at who was under the helmet.

Gojo met you halfway, a hand protectively pulling you up, but you were clinging to his armor the second you were close enough.

Whatever happened, you were in this together.

Gojo took off his helmet, tossing it to the ground, a collective gasp breaking out at the disgraced former emperor wedding crashing.

"You murdered my family, framed me, and now what? Trying to marry my lady?" You would probably slap him for that last line later, but it made the impression he wanted in the audience, redirecting all the suspicious stares back to the man left at the alter.

"You're pathetic," Geto cooly dismissed, glancing back to the knights guarding the doors he'd just came in through. "Seize him. Careful with the princess, it looks like the former emperor has used some kind of witchcraft to convince her of his lies."

Feeding into the hysteria of magic and conspiracy with a slimy lie, coming up with whatever excuse he needed to get Gojo back in jail and you back under his thumb.

But Nanami stepped out of the shadows, pulling out a stack of papers and a slip of a note.

The knights approaching hesitated, unsure if they should really follow Geto's command. Nanami was intimidating in a different sort of way - commandeering a certain respect an authority without trying.

"Arrest the Duke. More evidence has surfaced to suggest he's the suspect behind the crimes we're currently investigating," He somberly instructed, gesturing to Geto. "The signatures on the documents he provided were forgeries."

"You know me," Geto called out to you, not really a plea, but like he wanted you to understand. Like he wanted you to think this was for you.

"I don't think so," You swallowed hard, and you were physically shaking next to him.

"He's not what you need," Geto's voice was harder this time, shrugging off the few knights that had dared to approach him.

It happened in just a few seconds.

His former best friend stealing a sword from the closest knight, the silver catching the sunlight streaming in from the grand stained windows, and then coming down swiftly.

Gojo was just faster.

Stepping in front to shield you, drawing the sword and meeting Geto's with a loud clash. The crowd was scattering back, a few surprised shouts and screams echoing in the large hall.

His muscles screamed at the extension, underworked and starved for weeks. But the idea of losing was inconceivable.

Geto had already embarrassed him enough in front of you.

The second swipe of Geto's sword nearly landed, narrowly avoiding getting skewered at the last second, pushing you back enough to land in an annoyed Nanami's arms.

Gojo sucked in a sharp breath, steadying himself and getting ready to strike just for something to smack Geto in the face, a heel clattering to the floor by his feet.

You had thrown your fucking shoe at him.

Gojo seized the opportunity, the single second Geto was still stunned to knock his sword hard enough to send it skittering to the floor out of reach.

The knights hurried to grab him, no handcuffs prepared this time, one taking each arm as they took Nanami's word for it.

Geto didn't say anything.

No big proclamation or sudden profession. Just held his stare, not sorry in the slightest as they lead him down the same path Gojo walked a month before. Down to the recesses of the dungeon.

His only regret was probably not covering his tracks properly.

Thinking you were the type of girl who cared about wearing the crown in the first place.

Gojo wasn't sure which domino fell next.

Tossing his sword. The people surrounding him. The cheers. Crying that they'd never believed the lies as if he hadn't been there when they stayed silent.

But it was still his people. The ones he'd been born to protect and serve until his last breath.

He tried to smile, wave his hand that every swivel of his wrist didn't send sharp pains up to his broken finger, laughed and grinned like he was happy to be back.

But when he turned, he only caught a glimpse of your dress, the glitter of it and your hobble as you hurried into the hall.

It seemed chasing after you had become second nature.

"Wait," He called out, forcing his way between people, rushing to get to you before you could disappear out of sight.

He could've grabbed your hand again, but simply?

Gojo was too excited.

Once you were withing reach, he was grabbing you and pulling you into an almost crushing hug, squeezing your waist and burying his face into your hair.

"Thank you," He murmured, sharp nose nuzzling against your neck without meaning to, mostly just trying to stop himself from sniffling.

He half expected you to shove him off, to scoff and dismiss it as your duty again.

Bur you hugged him back, arms tentatively wrapping around him.

"You smell awful."

ᡴꪫ

His bath, however, smelled like sugar and roses.

You shouldn't know that. Yet, you stayed anyway.

Let Gojo lead you back to his chambers, insisting he needed the company and didn't want anyone else. You just didn't want to admit you didn't want to leave him either.

A maid delivered fresh clothes at his request, laying them out neatly on the bed after promising to be discreet when all three of you knew the rest of the palace would know by the end of the day.

He unlaced your wedding dress for you, a nervous flutter in your stomach at how nimbly he freed you from the too-tight corset. You still shoved him in the bathroom so you could finish stripping, a heap of shimmering fabric left on the floor as you traded it in for an almost as embarrassing gown that looked more like lingerie.

Anxious, you knocked on the door to the bathroom, leaning in to listen to the sound of running water.

"I'm finished, um, Gojo?" You weren't sure what to call him now. He would have to be coronated after getting stripped from his role. Did that make him a prince again?

"I like it when you call me Satoru," He hummed inside.

"Well, Satoru, should I fetch food, or perhaps a doctor for you?" You chewed on the inside of your lap, looking around for something to cover yourself up if you were going to leave the room.

Everything was rich and warm in here, funny little glass animals on shelves and expensive tapestries on the wall. His huge four poster bed carved with intricate woodwork, silk sheets and luxurious blankets spread over it. Well-worn and well-loved.

What would your life be like, you wondered, if it'd always been him from the start?

"Could you come in first? I can't reach the soap," He called out.

You pushed the door open, peeking inside shyly to find him already submerged in the tub, water up to his chest and bubbles concealing everything underneath. He shut off the faucet, another reminder of just how wealthy he was to have one of the few rooms with heated water in the whole estate.

His head was reclined back on the porcelain rim of the tub, white hair freshly washed. His face still had a few flecks of dirt on it, his cheeks and jaw far sharper than they'd been a few weeks ago, and still, he was so handsome it hurt. But it was the raw skin where the collar had rested that caught your attention, the once smooth complexion pink and irritated.

He turned to look over, cracking open a single eye just to freeze and immediately open both when he saw what you were wearing. Another day you probably would've laughed at how hard the lump in his throat bobbed before he tried to pull his charming mask back on.

"Are you just going to stare?" He teased, throwing a frustratingly cute lopsided smirk over at you. "I don't mind, I mean, I'm flattered-"

"Does it hurt?" You blurted out, your hand returning to your own neck as if you could feel it. But that just reminded you of the engagement ring still on your finger, and you hurried to take it off, embarrassment pricking at it as you glanced at the diamonds glittering in your palm.

"I'm fine," Gojo said, soft now, blue eyes narrowed as he watched you with concern. "Are you?"

"Yeah."

Perhaps you were both just liars.

You left the engagement ring on the sink, half hoping it'd fall down the drain before grabbing the soap and the basket of washcloths from the wall. Getting down on your knees next to the bath and looking to him for permission he gave you with a surprised nod.

Damping a washcloth before scrubbing his smooth skin, weeks of grime washing off with a little work. He closed his eyes, letting you gently get him clean again, humming a song you'd never heard before.

He'd lifted his hand up, about to comb through his hair with his fingers when you noticed one crooked and swollen. A choked-up gasp escaped you, surprised at his injury.

"Hey, don't worry," He soothed, wiggling it even though it made him wince. "I'll get the doctor to set it when I get out, okay?"

You let him comfort you. Let him tell you stupid stories so you could remember what it felt like to laugh. Let him hold your hand and squeeze softly to remind you where you were.

It was nice.

This small comfort, this idea of intimacy where you didn't need to speak or ramble to know you were appreciated. The closeness in knowing he'd protect you - and you'd do the same for him.

Maybe he'd write you back when you left this time.

ᡴꪫ

Satoru insisted you stay another month.

You obliged him. You weren't even sure why. What would you have to go back to now anyway?

A family who never bothered to write now that you wouldn't be Empress? Wouldn't have a husband with the kind of power or connections they want?

Maybe you could find a quiet cottage somewhere warm - somewhere you'd just have a piece of land and a serene place to sleep. It sounded a little unfulfilling, a far cry from the dreams you once again deemed out-of-reach.

But you guessed it was better than being unwanted.

The world's most gracious host has given you a frankly absurd amount of gifts anyway, more dresses and jewelry than you could pack or even conceivably wear. If you sold enough, you could certainly scrounge up the funds you'd need for it.

He was too busy to notice, buried under a mountain of paperwork and planning to reinstate himself as emperor, juggling duties he'd previously neglected on top of settling the trail with Suguru. You hadn't seen the sentencing. Hadn't asked.

Only written out your testimony against him, claiming it'd be too much for you to be in the same room as him.

Satoru was quick to put his seal on that document, apparently as anxious as you were about you seeing Suguru again.

His finger was still crooked. Might be forever. You'd accompanied him to his last doctor's appointment where they'd suggested breaking it again to try setting it again. Gojo declined.

His throat had mostly healed, faint scars left that he'd been hiding under high collars or cloaks unless he was with you.

Gojo always stopped his paperwork to search for you at least once or twice a day, hunting you down in the library or gardens or convincing you to have to take a break and have tea with him.

No bugs this time.

He'd sneak into bed with you at night sometimes, too late for any nosy attendants to pay attention, rubbing his tired eyes and murmuring about nightmares before he clambered under the blankets next to you.

It was stupid to allow him in. When he made your heart stutter and stop every time he pulled you into his body in his sleep, stroking your hair softly and making promises under his breath.

You needed to move on.

The bond you had was rooted in something you weren't even sure was romantic. He hadn't tried to kiss you, although there had been a few times you thought he would. Nights where you'd be so close your noses would almost touch, mornings where you'd wake up in his arms.

Sometimes you considered just kissing him to know what it felt like. Just a single second to see what you'd spent so long dreaming about before you shelved it entirely.

But Gojo was preoccupied with his own dreams.

You woke up to an empty bed the morning of his second coronation ceremony, the scent of his soap and shampoo still on your pillow when you rolled over, tracing your fingers over the faint indent his body had left.

A note has been left on your nightstand, accompanied by a pretty white flower cutting of heliotrope, probably just picked because it was the same shade as his hair and swelled sweet. You still smiled, rubbing the corner of your eyes before reading the note.

See you later, S

You saved it. Changed clothes and slipped it into the pocket of your dress, something you were sure you'd have every inkblot memorized of by the time you were four hours away this afternoon.

And who knows?

Maybe you would see him again some day.

✧

His crown was once again perched on its proper place, gold and gems glittering on top of his moon-white hair.

The crowd cheered louder for his second coronation than they had for his first.

But the only face he hoped to find wasn't there. Showered with praises and poems, returned to his rightful status while he mourned the future he was meant to have before.

One where maybe he had the decency to open your first letter and replied his damn self. One where he'd married you and his best friend was the best man instead of stuck in the same cell he'd just spent a month in. Might've spent the rest of his life in if it wasn't for you.

Too busy missing the signs and making mistakes he would be paying for until he was buried.

He was terrified he'd made another one without realizing it.

You hadn't left yet, had you?

He slipped away from the party, not offering explanations or excuses to anyone who attempted to stop him, scratching his neck around the collar of the stupid fur cloak they'd insisted on dressing him in and hurrying through the hall until he found your room.

Gojo paused, holding his breath before twisting the knob, his stomach curling at the realization it was unlocked before he pushed it open.

The bed was neatly made, the balcony curtains drawn to let in the sun, light bathing the room that refused to warm his skin without you there. The note he'd left, the flower he handpicked for you, had both disappeared, taken too.

You were gone. He walked in, touching every surface like he was searching for some sign of you. There wasn't even a note.

He paused, glancing through one of the pretty stained glass windows overlooking the front garden, the cobbled path to the street packed with carriages outside.

And you.

Handing over a suitcase to the driver, glancing past your shoulder and shielding your eyes to look over the palace one last time.

His legs were moving for him, ripping open the balcony door and calling your name.

You didn't hear him.

He didn't bother judging the distance, or even looking down at the drop. It was only the second floor after all.

And then he was jumping over the railing, landing in a bush and losing his cloak in the process, branches and leaves getting stuck to his outfit as he scrambled to get free, his ankle aching as he broke into a jog to catch up to you. It was a miracle his crown hadn't fallen off. Sprinting down the street and shouting to you like he was fucking crazy, and he supposed he really might've lost it when he watched you climbing in to the carriage and the door shut behind you.

The driver saw him first, freezing and squinting at him before gawking the second he realized who this stranger was.

Already starting to bow his head before Gojo was begging him to wait, fumbling through an explanation that he needed to speak to you.

You must have heard something, the door opening back up and your cute face scrunching in confusion when you peeked out.

"Satoru?"

He couldn't let this be the last time you called him that.

Gojo wasn't sure what he was doing, didn't have a single fucking clue, really, but he was down on both knees before you could get another syllable out.

"Don't go," He murmured, a desperate plea shining in his eyes. "I just, I know I'm a mess and I've put you through enough, but fuck, I can't lose you, okay? I love you, and I-I need you, and you're just-"

"I'm what?" You asked, soft and surprisingly sincere when he half-expected you to shut the door on him while he rambled.

"You're too good for me," He confessed, blunt and broken in a way he didn't know if he'd be able to put back together on his own. "If I was a better man, I'd let you leave and never look back, but I'm selfish and stupid and-"

You grabbed him by his collar and tugged him inside the carriage, shutting the door behind him with a slam.

"I'm sor-" He started to apologize again just for you to huff and shut him up with a kiss.

There was nothing soft about it.

It was hard and hungry and heated, your hands on his face and your lips between his, the taste of mint lingering on them as he desperately kissed you back.

He was grabbing your waist, awkwardly maneuvering until you were straddling his lap, soft thighs spread over his sturdy ones, squeezing you every few seconds to make sure you were real and this wasn't some incredibly long dream he'd been having inside his cell still.

"Is this-" He stammered, barely breaking away just to breathe in your skin, the perfume on it and the smell of his soap on your body. "Are you sure?"

"Kiss me again and find out," You murmured, fingers tracing up over his collar one and getting tangled in his hair, careful not to mess up the crowd he'd forgotten he was still wearing.

His mouth found yours again, hungrily sucking on your bottom lip when your hips suddenly rolled down on the growing bulge barely concealed by his pants.

Gojo's fingers felt clumsy when he fumbled for his crown, taking it off just to delicately place it on your head between kisses, grinning at the way you pulled back just to giggle and smile at him.

"Oh?"

"It's yours," He promised. It wasn't much for a proposal, but he needed you to know he meant it. He'd give you the palace on a platter if you wanted it.

"I'll think about it," You teased.

And hey, that wasn't a no.

You tilted your head to the side, and he took that as permission to leave more proof of his affection down your throat, littering the skin with bites and sucks. You moaned, just barely audible at his teeth nipped at you, and his cock practically jumped, throbbing to be touched.

He felt his jaw stiffen, trying to hold himself back, kissing you softer to keep himself together.

"Satoru," You said his name, and it was only when your smile subtly curled up in time with his cock twitched again that he realized you knew what you were doing, knew what effect you had on him.

"Princess," He breathed, struggling not to stutter when you readjusted on his lap, your hips moving just right, the pressure and friction making his already hazy head more lost in you.

"Do you really want me?" You asked, blinking a few times, lashes fluttering and eyes begging him to say yes. Offering him a vulnerable sliver of yourself.

"More than I've ever wanted anything," He answered truthfully.

"Then take me," You shrugged, maybe to make the moment feel smaller, like it was something you could contain.

He kissed you again, starving every second his lips weren't on you.

"Not here," He murmured.

You huffed at him, letting your canines graze a little too harsh against his bottom lip, but he couldn't help but hope you'd bite, leave his lip bruised and swollen so everyone could see your claim on him.

"Where then?"

He had you splayed out in his bed twenty minutes later, carrying you over his shoulder like a piece of game or grand trophy he'd won, ignoring the cheers and congratulations of staff members he passed by and the flustered few who tried to shout at him to return to the after-party. You were giggling the whole way there, keeping the crown on your head with one hand.

Gojo took his time peeling off every layer you were reveling in the softness of your skin and the shape of your body, tracing over the dimples and curves, holding his breath when he finally pulled your panties down your thighs.

"Are you just going to stare?" You mimicked him, but he could see the uncertainty in your own face, nervousness betraying you.

"I've never, um, y'know," He awkwardly began to admit, but he was sure his touch made it obvious, the tender way he skimmed over your breasts instead of immediately groping them.

"Had sex?" You scrunched your face up, like you really never guessed.

"Yeah," He muttered, still fumbling for the buttons on his shirt, pulling it off and discarding it on the floor by your dress. "Have you?"

"No," You shook your head, biting down on the inside of your cheek, a little embarrassed yourself. "I've done, other stuff but um, never this."

"Just tell me if it's too much," He murmured, getting out of bed to stand and properly take his own pants off. The way you watched him made him self-conscious, aware of the scars and his body still too lean for his liking. He'd resumed morning workouts and eating as much as he could to makeup for the days and weeks stuck in a cell, but he'd been in a better shape before.

"You're so attractive it's annoying," You confessed with a soft sigh, your eyes trailing down to the v of his hips, lingering on this pink and aching cock beneath the thick patch of his happy trail.

"You think so?" He hm-ed, not realizing his badly he needed the reassurance.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. Now come here," You impatiently teased, just as needy as him.

He climbed back in bed, but he laid down next to you, pulling you up on his chest so your back as reclining on him, one hand slipping between your thighs while the other found your breast, toying with the nipple while he dipped two fingers inside your entrance.

Slick and soaked just for him.

"W-what are you-" Your voice broke, shattered like glass as you suddenly gasped when he pushed past that first tight ring of resistance, your walls clenching around his fingers.

"That feel good?" He hummed in your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it when you shivered under his touch, twitching when he rolled his thumb over your nipple.

"Mm, mhm," You nodded, craning your neck up to make eye contact with him, your stare glossy, full of something he hoped was love rather than just lust or longing.

Pumping his fingers faster, crooking them in deeper just to watch the way your lips parted with pleas of his name, studying the shape of your mouth when it formed the syllables.

His cock was painfully hard, throbbing with every moan, desperate for some release stuck between your back and his abs, barely able to keep his hips from bucking up.

He wasn't even sure if he'd be able to last more than two seconds when he was actually inside you.

So he tried to focus on your pleasure, stretching you open with a third finger, barely able to slot it in, watching the tears prick at your lashes.

"P-please, S'toru, need you," You whined, shuddering and moaning when his thumb ghosted over your clit.

He had you flat on the mattress in two seconds.

Back arching off the bed, his hands on your hip to hold you up while he pressed the tip of his leaking cock to your entrance. You gasped, silently nodding at him to put it in.

"Fuck, my pretty lady needs me?" He gritted his teeth, jaw clenched as he used every last drop of self-control in his body to ease his way in, watching inch by inch of his thick cock disappear into your warmth, veins pulsing as you sucked him in.

He felt like he might pass out.

Seeing the way your body connected with his, feeling your hips under his hand, the way you melted into a puddle in his palm, peering up at him the same way he'd pictured in his head so many times.

You made a sound, trying to speak and stuffed too full to get the words out.

And fuck, he was right there with you when he bottomed out, tip pressing into what he guessed was your womb, pleasure burning through him in hot flashes.

"I love you," He groaned, leaning down to kiss you, his cock throbbing when he refused to move, refused to budge, showering your face in kisses while you wrapped your wrists behind his neck and crossed your legs behind his back.

The closeness of all of it was too much.

You felt like his.

"Promise me," You murmured, inhaling hard between heated kisses.

"I promise," He easily repeated, pulling out his cock and pushing back in for the first unsure trust your chest rising and falling like he'd knocked the breath out of you. "Forever."

"Even if the next life?" You lightened up, your teasing once again turning into a whine when he buried himself down to the hilt inside you.

"Every life."

He made sure to fuck you like it.

Demanding thrusts, claiming you inside and out, his cock pumping in-and-out, his grip bruising on your hips and his lips leaving hickies all over your neck. Drawing moan after moan from your mouth, flipping you onto your stomach to keep going, pushing your back into that pretty arch for him and splitting you open on his cock with borderline mean pumps.

"Mine," He muttered, trailing kisses back up your spine to the nape of your neck, brushing the hair away and groaning at how hard you squeezed him, trying to milk him for all he had. "Tryin' to make me cum, princess?"

"M-maybe," You huffed. Your voice was a broken whisper, strained from the strangled noises he kept ripping from you.

The heat in his chest was building, skin damp with and loose strands of hair stuck to his forehead as his muscles burned and tensed.

He slipped a hand underneath your body, finding your clit and rolling it between two fingers, your body shuddering, pressure building in your own stomach at the friction.

"Breathe, baby," He teased, and you tried, your cries muffled into the mattress when you unraveled beneath him, cumming hard right as his own tension snapped, abs briefly pulling taut as he painted your insides white.

Cum leaking down your thighs by the time he pulled out, mesmerized by the way it slowly dripped down onto his silk sheets. His tip was still swollen, resting on your ass and dripping more as he sucked in a sharp breath, tracing over your skin with adoration before pushing his cum back inside you just to hear the filthy squelch.

"Did so good f'me, princess," He praised, not quite able to steady his breathing still as you rolled over to face him, your own chest heaving.

"Just princess?" You hummed, limbs weak and exhausted as you grabbed his hand and tugged him on top of you.

"Would you say yes if I asked you to be my Empress?" He asked, running his thumb over your lip before leaning down to get another taste of you.

"Perhaps," You smiled, soft and sweet and everything he'd been dreaming about for months.

And the idea of it being his, of you smiling at him like that every day, was irresistible and intoxicating and absolutely addicting. Imagining you with him all the time, in his office and on his throne, waddling around with his baby in your belly or cradling an infant in your arms, he wanted all of it.

The good days and the bad, every broken and bent piece of you and all the best ones too.

Truly the luckiest man on earth just to exist in your warmth for however many moments you allowed.

"Hey, baby?" He yawned, leaning down to rest his head against your collarbone while your soft palms slid up his back.

"Mhm?"

"I think I sprained my ankle."

[bxnfire]

I’ve read just your Sukuna love island hcs, and it’s soo good!! I don’t even watch love island (aside from Dylan is in Trouble taking about it), but reading fics about it seems so fun, so I’m excited to read the rest of the characters love islands hcs!! Also, I think I’d be so funny having a reader in a love island hcs, where she’s just a last minute replacement for a different contestant that had to drop out suddenly and they had to scramble and someone on set knew her and just, put her in there (they asked first and agreed cause she thought, “hey, I never did this before, but this may be fun!!). And at first, she feels sort of out of place in this show, especially since she was never in a relationship prior to this and never had a crush on someone before, but as she slowly gets to know people (especially the other girls) and coming out of her shell slowly, which moves her past her shyness and being a more chaotic and bubbly side of her and an enthusiastic energy. She hits it off with one of the male character and he becomes so smitten with her, ah!!

OMGGG TYYYYYY SMMM 🥹🥹 im so happy you liked it. truth be told ive only sat through a couple of eps of love island but haven’t watched the full thing. and honestly thats a good idea i may make an edition where its the readers pov and more on how she got on the island!! i’ll finish the ones i got rn and then see what the move is. i was already thinking of giving the most liked contestant (suguru so far) their own one-shot, either on a date or a specific thing i wanted to spand on!!

[bxnfire]

𓁼ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Weirdcore graphics ⊹ ࣪ ˖𓇢𓆸

Got sucked into those 2021 backroom videos on TikTok and threw these up, enjoy! *+*☁️👁️📺🏠*+*

₊˚ʚ 🦷 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. Credits!!: ☆, ☆, ☆, ☆, ☆, ☆, ☆, ☆, ☆, ☆ ☁︎༄°✧

[bxnfire]

[bxnfire]

love island ft. ryomen sukuna

masterlist

loveisland!sukuna who isn't interested in you at first (or anyone for that matter) but due to his little feud with gojo he decided to spend time and time with you, as it seemed as though gojo was smitten with you. but his scheme ended up with him actually being into you, oh boy!

loveisland!sukuna who isn't as charming or sweet as the others, and he doesn't pretend to be. for a place where men are encouraged to be on their best behavior he sure sticks out like a sore thumb, but you'd be lying if you said that it didn't attract you to him

loveisland!sukuna who is just passionate. the second he decides you'll be his, he makes it known to everyone, specially you. in your dates, he never shies away from any "hard" questions, nor does he acted like he has mixed feelings. sure, maybe he doesn't call you my love, nor does he tell you sweet nothings at all times, but when you ask him if he'd actually be in a relationship with you when this all is over, or whether he's genuinely into you, his answers make your doubts go away, as if there was never a reason to have them to begin with. he's not quite the talker, but you come to realize that he's a good fucking listener. sure, he looks annoyed about half the time, but you best believe he remembers the names of your plushies, your favorite dressing, the show you've watched 17 times, and the exact spot in your neck where you'd rather be bit than sucked on, the pace at which he should thrust into you, and what sounds let him know that you need more, that you're about to cum, or that you want to change the pace. he truly does make you wonder if anyone's truly known you before him

loveisland!sukuna who always wins the heart rate challenge, for the only one who spikes his off the charts is you, and everyone else is well, just there. this always earns him dates with you, in which he makes sure he spikes your heart rate off the chart. be prepared to wake up sore, because no matter how active you may or may not be, this man is fan of multiple rounds, and even if that was just part of the game, he believes you owe him for getting him all riled up, and he makes you pay for it. you must want to kill him by showing everyone in the cast and crew, who struggle trying to censor the obscene bulge he's worked up after your little performance. whether it is by fucking your throat relentlessly until he feels like you've earned pleasure, or by putting you in all fours and gripping your waist and hair so damn hard that you barely have time to notice he's about to go all in with no mercy, though the way your pussy clenches and gets even wetter lets him know you don't mind one last bit, or maybe even by making you sit your cunt on his tattooed face and not stopping until you're a crying, whimpering mess begging for a break, which spoiler alert! he's not giving you

loveisland!sukuna who is feisty. he's quick to get into a fight when he overhears the other contestants talk about you as if they could get you, or if god forbid, someone disrespects you. if it weren't for the public absolutely loving his twisted temper and how he is towards you, the black eyes and broken noses he's caused would've made him get sent home wayyyy sooner than planned

loveisland!sukuna who loves adventure dates and dinner dates. horseback riding in a forest or mountain can be super romantic, he gets to tease you and let his competitive side shine through, but you shouldn't be surprised to find that he was on a quest to find the perfect hidden spot where he could take you without interruptions, as it was already rough focusing on riding the horse while all you wanted to do was ride him, and he had made it clear he had about the same intentions when he "helped" you get on your horse, which sure, yeah you were secured alright, but you heavily doubted the rubbing of his fingers on your clothed pussy did anything to adjust your seat, or the fact that he explained everything to you between kisses along your neck and shoulders as his breath landed right on your ear had actually helped you on your journey. if anything, it made you wish you had worn a bikini instead of your cotton underwear, which was soon to be torn to shreds. as for dinner dates, he actually loves listening to you speak. he may always bitch when you ask to taste his food, but as he rolls his eyes he pushes his plate towards you, and makes sure to look back just in time to see you've liked his choice, not that he ordered something that would be of your taste, his taste just so happens to be excellent, the mere coincidence it has with your favorite meals is purely random, not him trying to impress you, don't be stupid. and sure, maybe he's making mental notes of your favorite desserts when it's time for those, but he makes sure you can't tell he's scheming by having you as his dessert, because who the fuck would have a spoonful of ice cream when they could easily be nose deep in your cunt instead?

loveisland!sukuna who's cutscenes with you are just hilarious. he loves to banter with you and see how witty you can be with him, and he loves the way your mouth never gives out on him, whether in argument or bed is his favorite is a big dilemma, but he knows he doesn't need to settle it

loveisland!sukuna who has always been secure of everything he's done in this life. who has never known what fear means. but the second he realizes he's fallen for you, he begins to question whether he deserves you at all, and he's fucking terrified at the thought of losing you. it pisses him off terribly to have met his match, and you make him oh so weak, it's agonizing. and yet, in the quiet of the night where it's just the two of you, he comes to realize that maybe, just maybe, he only feels safe with you, only you have lit the fire on a heart that he swore was born cold, and he'll go to the end of the fucking world for you, if you need him to, because even if he thought he preferred his life the way it was, you've given it a meaning, something to yearn for, and he'll be damned if he backs down, because truly, what fool would shy away from earning the greatest treasure of all?

[bxnfire]

i missed love island content on here. ty for bringing it back❤️❤️❤️ it’s sooo good

OFCCC POOOKIE MUAHHHH. idk what rlly gave me the inspo but im planning on finishing writing for all our options 😛 and whoever is liked the most will prob get their one shot

[bxnfire]

love island

come to the burning hot island filled with heartrobs and bombshells! who will you choose from all your bachelors? cocky but charming satoru, deep and sultry suguru, intense but magnetic sukuna, dangerous yet protective toji, sweet and caring choso, or maybe determined and grounded nanami? come read and see!

content/warnings: minors dni, afab!reader, smut, p in v, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), exhibitionism, dates, flirting, love island plot-ish?

our contestants:

satoru gojo

suguru geto

ryomen sukuna

toji fushiguro

choso kamo

kento nanami

[bxnfire]

love island ft. satoru gojo

masterlist

loveisland!satoru who is obnoxiously forward and is utterly convinced he will get you. he's the best bachelor in the show, isn't he?

loveisland!satoru who flirts by teasing and complimenting you evenly. he'll make sure you're always amused, and it would please him if it was you laughing or blushing, and if he gets lucky, both at the same time

loveisland!satoru who doesn't play about you, even if he was just testing the waters at first. he’s cocky and loves attention, so he was enjoying the girls fawning over him (can you really blame them?), but the moment he had a conversation with you, he was done for. yes, you were attracted to him, but you knew better than to fall for the pretty boy’s charm. besides, what's the fun in this set up if you don’t test how far a man is willing to go for you? bonus points for being the 2nd most wanted man (a close second to suguru, as maybe satoru’s got the looks, but suguru is just alluring, sultry)

loveisland!satoru who spends a lot of time reassuring you. even if he’s really cocky, he understands that you have your doubts when it comes to him, and he is fucking good at making you forget your worries in the first place

loveisland!satoru who watches as you give attention to the other guys, and he's so petty, but you'd be fucking lying if you said it didn't turn you on. you could be taking a walk on the beach and he'd be teasing you, per usual, but eventually he'd say things like "wouldn't you rather be doing this with suguru, hmm, sweets?" or "betcha sukuna would pay to watch you act like this, or has he already? no need to lie to me." and yeah, maybe you should be ashamed of your reactions, but there is little you can do when you have 6in fingers deep in your cunt, thrust into you meanly, as the man behind it all is oh so skilled, so fucking hot, and possessive just for you

loveisland!satoru who loves adventure dates and boat/yacht dates. the former is just due to his fun-loving nature. he's an adrenaline junkie, and it's hard to imagine him liking jet skiing more than he already does, but it just so happens to be more fun riding at ungodly speeds when he feels your hot body pressed up against his, so much so that he can feel your boobs in his back, your breath straight into his skin, and your scratches from hanging on to him so strongly. fuck, even the cold saltwater is no match to his hard-on, which you so nicely take care of once you're back in the shore. satoru isn't scared of getting caught, and the way your cunt is damping your swimsuit lets him know you aren't either. as for yacht dates, he's always been used to luxury, and he feels as though those type of dates assimilate more to what it'd be like if you were his. sunbathing is a whole different experience when you have him rubbing your sunscreen so sensually, eventually moaning into his touch, which makes him ditch his glass of champagne completely as the juice in between your thighs is so much more delectable. tongue so relentless against you, your thighs are quivering, even if his enormous hands are gripping them so harshly, and your moans are so loud he starts to wonder if the others could hear you, some part of him telling him to go rougher to make sure they do

loveisland!satoru who can be a tease, but if you need him to be, he can be all ears, or the most supportive man you've ever met. it could be the stupidest of things, such as a meal not coming out right, or something serious, like your problems or worries beyond this whole show, and he is there for it all. every time you speak to him you feel lighter, as if the world was just quieter, time slower, and you and satoru were all that mattered, which for the record, in his world it was true, you and him were all that mattered, and he'd be damned if he didn't make it clear

loveisland!satoru who may seem all over the place, but when it comes to you? he's got you all figured out. almost as if he had a sixth sense activated by you. he knows what things you like, your tics when you get nervous, when you laugh out of courtesy vs when you're genuinely amused, even how to find your g-spot and how quickly you like it done, which moans mean that you're close, how your stomach bulges when he's so fucking deep inside, what spots you like to be bit on, which you'd rather get sucked on, and what he must do to make you squirt, once, twice, enough to make him forget it all and map you out all over again, and again, and again

loveisland!satoru who's life you've changed entirely, and if you give him the chance, he will do anything in his power to change yours. the most expensive meal could not compare to the taste of your kisses, the most beautiful sight didn't compete to your smile, not one bit, and no drug on this universe, or the next for all he fucking knew, measured up to the high he felt just being next to you

[bxnfire]

love island ft. suguru geto

masterlist

loveisland!suguru who wouldn't truly be all up on you, but would conveniently be near you on games, and even if he wasn't always loud about it, everyone would just know he was into you

loveisland!suguru who is one to get you thinking, fireside heart to hearts wouldn't be something rare with him. he'd make you voice things you'd never said to anyone, and if anyone in the villa, or in your life, makes you feel seen, it's him

loveisland!suguru who is determined. first coupling? you. would he like to switch it up? no, but thank you for asking. boys village with new girls? they all know about you by the end of it all. if someone were to walk away from what you two have going, it'd have to be you

loveisland!suguru who progressively gets bolder. on the first dates he was just fun, flirty, casual. later on though? hands always on you. he would somehow find the way to give you little papers with compliments or poems on them, just to let you know you're always on his mind

loveisland!suguru who isn't outwardly jealous. no, he doesn't fight the others when they try to get your attention, and if he happens to see you enjoying yourself he won't mention it, but you best believe he's undermining them with his wit, making them seem stupid. they might get riled up, but please don't blame suguru, a gentleman just likes to keep what's his, no?

loveisland!suguru who loves cooking/baking dates, and dinner dates. as for the first, he likes messing around with you, but at the same time demonstrate that he could take care of you if you so desired. besides, if some chocolate syrup gets on your chest, well, who's he to let you walk around dirty? sure, maybe he didn't have to suck it right off you, but a gentleman is a gentleman, no? as for dinner dates, he'd like to learn your favorite foods in a nice, elegant place. of course he likes long table linens for the aesthetics! not because he gets to finger you under them without anyone noticing, curling his digits to that sweet spot that makes your eyes tear up, and testing how much it takes to break your composure, of course not! never that

loveisland!suguru who loves hideaway nights. he truly shows the extent he's willing to go to please you, and he does it rock fucking hard. dessert? no thanks, why stuff himself with cakes when he can get his dose of sugar between your thighs? movies? sure, so long as you're both covered by a blanket, and his dick covered by your soft, plush walls. shower? of course! he'll even let you choose if you'd like to get pounded into from the back where you can feel his breath on your lower neck and his swollen tip hit your g-spot, or if you'd rather he hold you up and thrust into you so hard you can't even make cohesive sentences, and it sure doesn't help when he chooses to suck on your nipples as he has his way with you. sleep? well, some people like to count sheep, but you soon learn that suguru prefers to count how many times you cum before you can't no more, or so you think, upping his count every night he gets the chance

loveisland!suguru who may have been skeptical about this all, but genuinely, the second he saw your smile, he knew he'd do anything to make it happen again, and again, and again, until you were as crazy about him as he had always been about you

[bxnfire]

touchstarved!gojo who becomes immensely aware of your presence, six eyes acute to your every move

touchstarved!gojo who turns off his infinity just in the small chance that you touch him

touchstarved!gojo who suddenly, is very clumsy around you. papers he graded? all over the floor when you walked past him. that sandwich he had for lunch? the ingredients all started falling, making a mess on his mouth, chin, and shirt. if you knew any better you'd doubt all this given his agility and usual calculated moves (jokes on you he calculated this all), but he knew you'd help him, and looking a fool was worth it if it meant your hands momentarily touching his in attempts to help him gather the papers, or to feel the pressure on his chest and your thumb on his cheek as you help him tidy up

touchstarved!gojo who always brings you back souvenirs from his missions, but don’t pay much mind to his playful demeanor! if he’s not just giving you the souvenirs and instead holds it up as high as he can to see you struggle to reach it. he loves it best when you try to climb him like a tree, hoping you don’t notice an “extra branch” grew on your trip to the top, and silently wishing to find out what you’d do if you noticed

touchstarved!gojo who’s mind you can’t seem to leave, as he often thinks of you in the most random times. the only thing all those instances have in common is how they end: red fat tip with pre oozing from the slit, big hand wrapped around his shaft vigorously stroking it, eyes rolled back, head tilted and pretty groans escaping him. as much as he should be ashamed, that’s his nightly ritual, and sometimes if he manages to see you a lot around the day, might become a side quest for the moments subsequent your encounter

touchstarved!gojo who almost short circuits the second he happens to walk past your classroom one time, and short circuits when he hears his name leave your mouth from the other side of the door. he was just about to knock, but upon hearing better, he was able to make out the vibrations and little moans in-between, were you truly as pathetic as he was? he sure had a hard on to hide right after that! but for the first time, he thought of a better way to get rid of it

[bxnfire]

symptoms and causes | ch. 03

ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader

ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

ღ wc 6.9 k

ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

ღ author's note hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡ (fanart in the header)

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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"So, anyone else feeling like their brain is about to explode?" you half-joked.

Yuta looked up from his notes and nodded. "Definitely. I keep getting the side effects of beta-blockers and ACE inhibitors mixed up."

The university cafeteria buzzed with the nervous energy of students prepping for exams. You joined Toge, Yuta, and Maki at a corner table, each of you clutching a much-needed coffee. The air was thick with the scent of caffeine and the sound of pages flipping.

"Statins?" Toge muttered as he rubbed his temple. 

"They're primarily for lowering cholesterol levels," Maki answered quickly.

Yuta let out a frustrated sigh. "Right, right. And anticoagulants? I still can't wrap my head around those."

You leaned forward. "Anticoagulants inhibit clotting factors in the blood. They're essential in preventing thrombosis and strokes."

Yuta gave a resigned look. "You two sound like walking textbooks. I'm sure I'll fail."

"No, Yuta, you've got this," you reassured him, though he seemed to be brainstorming backup career options already.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the cafeteria shifted as Gojo and Geto entered. Gojo's eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on your group. His gaze met yours for a brief moment.

Your stomach fluttered. Was it the intensity of his gaze or the fleeting memory of the dozens of painkillers in his car?

Perhaps both.

Geto also turned around. He broke into a warm smile as he saw you. 

Hm, at least he was not angry with you anymore.

"Looks like the big guns are here," Yuta joked under his breath, nodding toward Gojo and Geto. "Do you think they ever get exam jitters?"

"Doubt it," Toge said.

Maki rolled her eyes. "Focus, guys. We need to ace this exam."

Your group returned to your notes. Gojo and Geto picked up their coffee and found a seat not too far from yours, granting you an unobstructed view of Gojo. You tried to concentrate, but part of you remained acutely aware of his presence. 

Every so often, you stole glances at him, watching how he discussed something with Geto. His muscles flexed subtly with each animated gesture he made. There was an undeniable air of confidence that radiated from him, making him stand out effortlessly in the crowd. 

He was dressed in his usual white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the intriguing play of veins along his well-defined forearms. The dark blue slacks he wore were tailored to perfection.

His disheveled white hair was slightly tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it. You could see his jaw flexing as he articulated his points, each movement emphasizing the sharp lines of his face.

The sight was distracting, to say the least.

As you watched them, you couldn't help but think back to what Gojo had said to you in his car-how he had the audacity to accuse you of wanting to have a threesome with them. Heat rose to your cheeks.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Maki's voice pulled you back to reality.

You blinked. "Sorry, just got distracted for a moment."

Yet Gojo's presence lingered in your periphery. You stole another glance at Gojo, only to find him already looking at you. His lips curved into a faint smile.

Suddenly, you noticed that Geto's eyes were on you as well. The moment his gaze met yours, you felt caught like a deer in headlights. You quickly looked away. Geto said something to Gojo. Gojo merely shrugged, his expression unreadable, but the faintest smile played on his lips.

The rest of the time in the cafeteria passed in a blur. 

While you and your friends were engrossed in a last-minute review, Gojo and Geto began gathering their things to leave. They stood up and chatted casually as they strolled towards the exit, which happened to be in your direction.

Yuta checked his watch. "Time to head out for the exam." You all started to pack up. As you rose from the table, a sudden presence brushed against your back, making you turn.

"Oh, sorry about that," Gojo said. But there was a twinkle in his eye that suggested the touch wasn't entirely accidental. Before you could react, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Good luck with the exam. Though, something tells me you won't need it."

Gojo straightened. His gaze held you captive. You watched as he and Geto made their way out, with Geto swatting Gojo on the back of his head as they left.

"You're so fucked," Maki commented dryly, catching you watching them.

─── ·✧· ───

A week had passed since the exam. 

Life at the university had returned to its usual rhythm. You were in class with Toge, Maki and Yuta, the lecturer's voice a steady drone in the background as you all scribbled notes. Midway through the lecture, your phone that lay on your desk lit up with a message.

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Meet me in the lab after class. 

[3:32 PM] Gojo: Btw, you passed your exam. Congrats. Got a little gift for you too.

You stared at the message, puzzled. It was unusual for professors to have exam results ready just a week after. How did Gojo know?

[3:33 PM] You: What gift?

[3:33 PM] Gojo: It's a surprise. Why spoil it now? Come and see.

[3:33 PM] You: What about my friends Okkotsu, Zenin and Inumaki? Did they pass too?

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Can't say. I may have obtained your exam result in an unethical way.

[3:34 PM] You: Oh, too bad. Guess I must skip the lab today then.

[3:34 PM] Gojo: Are you fucking with me?

You didn't reply to that. 

After all, he wasn't the only one capable of playing games. You set your phone down, a slight smile on your lips as you turned your attention back to the lecture.

[3:52 PM] Gojo: They also passed.

[3:52 PM] You: Great. See you in the lab.

You turned to your friends. "We all passed the exam," you announced in a hushed tone.

Maki's eyes widened. "Seriously? How do you know that already?"

"Unethical ways."

Yuta let out a deep sigh. "Shit, that's some great news," he murmured, his usual worry lines smoothing out.

Toge nodded with a satisfied sound.

Suddenly the professor, who had been lecturing about biochemistry, paused and glanced sternly in your direction. "If we could have less chatter and more focus, please."

Your group quickly composed themselves and turned their attention back to the lecture. Yuta shot you a last smile.

As the lecture came to a close, you and your friends gathered your belongings and made your way out of the auditorium. The hallway outside was bustling with students discussing the lecture and making plans for the rest of the day. 

"I can't tell you how relieved I am. I was sure I botched the beta-blocker section," Yuta said as you walked.

You suddenly spotted Gojo casually leaning against a wall across from you, his arms crossed over his chest. His piercing gaze instantly locked onto you as you exited the auditorium. He tapped his fingers on his folded arms.

As your group began to drift towards the exit, you halted in your tracks. "You guys go ahead. I've got something to take care of after class."

"Alright, catch you tomorrow then," Yuta replied, clapping you on the shoulder.

You lingered in the hallway, waiting for the last students to leave. The corridor quieted, leaving you and Gojo alone. His intense gaze never wavered. He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled over to you.

"You've got quite the nerve, first-year," Gojo remarked.

You met his gaze squarely. "I could say the same about you, professor. Perhaps we should be more careful about being seen together outside the lab."

Gojo flashed a mischievous smile. "Concerned about starting rumors?"

"It's your reputation on the line, not mine."

"Ouch," he said, putting a hand over his heart in mock offense. "And here I am, offering to escort you. That's quite gentlemanly, don't you think? Even after you managed to rile me up."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of walking myself."

He leaned closer. "I know, perhaps I just want to spend more time with you." He started to walk towards the lab. "Come, I have something to show you. Something tells me you'll love it."

─── ·✧· ───

Once inside the lab, Gojo led you to a table where a mysterious box lay hidden under a cloth. With a dramatic gesture, he pulled away the cover, revealing what he had teased as a 'gift'.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight. "A brain?" you said, then turned to Gojo. "You have quite a unique way of pleasing a woman."

Gojo's smile broadened. "It's a human brain, specifically for us to practice on. I figured some hands-on training might be beneficial for the surgery, so I got us a few. It's a first for me too, so I thought, why not be thorough?"

You stepped closer to the table and peered at the brain encased in its protective glass. You grabbed the preserved organ and held it up, mesmerized by the sight.

Gojo watched your reaction. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It is." You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away. "Where did you get them?"

"Let's just say I had to pull some strings. Rest assured, they're from deceased donors, ethically sourced, of course."

"I know you've been worried about making another mistake in surgery," he said, his voice softening. "So, I figured the best way to prepare us is with hands-on practice."

You turned to face him. 

"We'll use these brains to meticulously go through each step of the procedure," he continued. "It's the closest we can get to the real experience. Practicing on actual human tissue like this will provide a depth of understanding that no model can match. By the end, you'll be thoroughly prepared for the surgery."

You placed the brain back on the table. "You did this for me?"

"I would do anything for you." Gojo closed the distance between you. He stood unusually close, his presence almost enveloping you. He leaned forward slightly, placing his hands on the table on either side of you, holding you captive between his arms.

Your back hit the edge of the table. You leaned back, trying to regain some distance. "What are you doing?"

He held your gaze, a hint of playfulness returning to his voice. "But just so you know, I have my ways of pleasing a woman. And not just by gifting her a human brain."

You leaned back even more. "Is that so?"

However, the distance was quickly closed by Gojo as he leaned in even closer. His breath warm and close, his lips almost grazing yours. "Absolutely," he murmured. "I'd be more than willing to demonstrate, if you're interested."

You raised an eyebrow, your heart racing. "Forward as always, Gojo."

Suddenly, in one swift motion, he reached out. His hands grasped the back of your thighs. Before you could react, you found yourself falling back onto the table. Your breath hitched. Gojo leaned over you, his blue eyes intense and piercing.

"You have no idea," he murmured, his voice deep and resonant. "If you weren't my student, I'd have already shown you just how forward I can be." His words were laced with an implication that sent a thrill through you. "'Be sure, I am a patient man, but even I have my limits."

His hand traced a path along the back of your thigh, the other firmly planted on the table above your head. Trapped in his gaze, you were acutely aware of every point of contact, the heat emanating from his body, and the undeniable pull you felt towards him.

"Maybe you should consider not seducing your student, then," you countered, your voice faltering slightly, betraying the effect he had on you. Your body seemed to act on its own accord, your legs instinctively drawing closer to him, as he stood between your parted legs.

"You could tell me to stop at any moment, yet you haven't," he said. "Interesting, isn't it? It's almost as if you're as curious as I am about where this might lead."

His face drew nearer, the space between you shrinking with each passing moment. Your breaths mingled. Your hand wandered to his arm, grabbing onto him, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt.

Your body craved his touch, despite the rational part of your mind screaming caution. But in that moment, it was impossible to resist the magnetic pull that drew you closer to him. You found yourself inching closer, your heart pounding in your chest. 

His gaze held you captive, and you felt as though he had the power to steal your very breath with a simple look.

Oh god.

If anyone were to walk into the lab now, there would be no plausible explanation for this compromising position.

His breath was warm on your skin, tantalizingly close to your collarbone. "But don't worry, first-year. I do love a good challenge. Especially one as intriguing as you." 

His body pressed against your open legs. In this position you could clearly feel the stretch in his pants. Your core melted. "There's just something about the way you resist, yet-not quite."

His hand ventured to the inside of your thigh. His fingers traced a path along your skin, edging daringly close. You arched into his touch. His lips caressed your collarbone, his touch light as a feather. The anticipation was nearly unbearable, a delicious torture that held you in its grip. 

"Even though your body betrays you every single time," he said before tightening his grip on your thigh. He pressed closer to you, the unmistakable hardness of his erection grinding against you. 

A moan escaped your lips and you could feel him smile against your skin. He lifts his head just enough to peer into your eyes. "Oh sweetheart, I'm dying to hear you moan my name."

Just as Gojo's fingers came dangerously close to brushing the sensitive area between your legs, he withdrew abruptly, leaving a void where his warmth had been. He straightened, a semblance of control returning to his expression. "Perhaps it's time we should get to work, don't you think?"

Was he for real?

You lay there for a moment, panting heavily. Pulling yourself up to your elbows, you managed a breathless, "What?"

Gojo, now a few steps away, nonchalantly adjusted his pants, something inside of them clearly troubling him. "We have a surgery to prepare for, remember?"

He said that as if he hadn't just nearly fucked you on the lab table.

You sit up completely. "I hate you."

Gojo chuckled. "You're so easy to play with, first-year," he remarked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Consider it payback for making me 'borrow' your friends' exam results from my colleague's laptop."

You watched him for a moment, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. The way he could shift so effortlessly from intense intimacy to professional demeanor was both infuriating and intriguing. 

With a groan, you let yourself fall back onto the desk and stared up at the ceiling. As you lay there, you heard Gojo walk away, his footsteps echoing through the lab. "Leaving already, Gojo? Need a quick break to blow off some steam?"

Gojo returned a moment later with a tray of surgical tools. He shot you a sly grin. "Why? Interested in watching?"

"Keep dreaming."

Gojo laughed. "You're quite amusing, first-year. We both know you'll surrender sooner or later. But don't worry, I can wait."

He began meticulously arranging the surgical tools, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. "Ready to begin?" he asked, glancing over at you.

You nodded.

─── ·✧· ───

In the following weeks, your routine consisted of meeting in the lab every day after class to prepare for the surgery.

The sessions were rigorous. Gojo's dedication to perfection and precision became more apparent with each passing day. He was a taskmaster in the truest sense, his expectations high and his attention to detail almost obsessive.

You thought Geto was strict, but Gojo operated on an entirely different level. His standards were exacting. He accepted nothing less than absolute precision. Every incision, every maneuver you practiced under his watchful eyes had to be flawless.

Maybe he was a maniac.

He sure was a maniac.

It was late.

You were hungry and tired.

However, once more, you and Gojo stood side by side to rehearse the procedure yet again.

"Now, stabilize the area while I insert the implant," Gojo instructed. You reached for the micro-surgical tool on the nearby desk and followed his directions precisely, maintaining a calm and steady breath to steady your hands.

Gojo led the way with inhuman precision. You mirrored his movements flawlessly. "Gently retract the meningeal layer," he guided. "Perfect, now hold it steady."

As the hours ticked away, you repeated the procedure over and over. With each repetition, you drew closer to seamless synchronization, your actions becoming increasingly fluid and intuitive. 

"Stay concentrated, we're almost there."

You slowed your breathing. "Inserting the implant now," Gojo said. Your eyes followed Gojo's hands as they maneuvered the tiny neuroimplant. "Hold steady," he murmured. "Slight adjustment to the left, that's it."

It was then that you noticed the slight trembling of his hands. In the blink of an eye, the tool in his hand slipped ever so slightly, causing a visible tear in the brain tissue.

"Damn it," Gojo muttered. "I'm sorry. Let's reset and try again."

The second attempt began much like the first, perfectly in sync. You both worked in silence. The only sound your synchronized breathing and the steady hum of the overhead lights.

But the second attempt didn't go as planned either. A small but significant misstep by Gojo resulted in further damage to the fragile brain. After the third failed attempt, Gojo took a step back from the table. His hands trembled.

"Fuck," Gojo hissed again, tearing off his gloves. He ran his fingers through his hair.

You set the instruments back on the table. "What's wrong? You good?"

It was unusual. He never made such mistakes. He always had the most steady hands, so why was he struggling with every attempt now?

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just need a break," he said, frustration etching lines on his forehead. He walked over to a nearby bench, where a forgotten cup of coffee rested. He picked it up with a shaking hand. You observed him closely. 

"Gojo, your hands..."

"I'm fine."

Oh, he was so clearly lying.

You walked over to him. "Don't tell me shit, what's going-?"

But before the words fully escaped your lips, Gojo's hand cramped. In an instant, the porcelain succumbed, shattering in his clenched fist. Coffee spilled over the bench in a dark, staining flood. A sharp curse escaped him as he released the jagged remains of the cup.

You bridged the distance between you. "God, Gojo," you exclaimed, quickly clasping his injured hand. "You're hurt."

"It's nothing."

"Yeah, keep lying to me," you retorted, locking eyes with him. "Sit down."

"It's merely a scratch."

"Just sit down, Gojo. Let me take a look at your hand."

With a sigh, he sank into the chair, watching you as you gathered the medical supplies.

"Fortunate it's your left hand," you remarked, pulling up a chair to sit beside him. You cradled his hand in your lap. Porcelain shards were buried in his palm and fingers, blood began to pool around the punctures. "Looks like you'll need a few stitches."

"I'm not sure I should trust someone to stitch me up who struggles to even find a vein," he quipped. "You know, this is a surgeon's hand." 

His attempt at humor fell flat. You were not in the mood for jokes. He flinched when you started to remove the porcelain fragments with tweezers.

"Don't worry. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's stitching up wounds," you said quietly.

You meticulously removed each fragment. The room was silent, punctuated only by the occasional clatter of tools. After ensuring no debris remained, you cleansed the wounds. 

Unfolding a suture kit, you glanced at Gojo. "This might sting," you cautioned, beginning to stitch the deeper gashes.

Gojo's jaw clenched. He remained silent, his eyes following your every move. After a while, he spoke, breaking the quiet. "You're pretty good at this. How did you learn to stitch so well?"

Your hands paused briefly, surprised by the question. "I mentioned my mother wasn't the same after my father's death. That's how I learned it."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his gaze shifting away.

You completed the last stitch and bandaged his hand carefully. "There, all done." Standing up, you began to clean the area. Gojo flexed his fingers, testing the mobility.

"Thank you," he said. "It's really good."

Without facing him, you asked, "You won't tell me what's wrong, will you?"

His silence was your answer.

A sigh escaped you. Gojo then stood, breaking the momentary stillness. "I need to grab something from my office. I'll be back soon," he said, his tone somewhat distant.

You nodded and watched as he left the lab. The door clicked shut, its sound echoing faintly in the now empty space. The quiet hum of the lab enveloped you.

Time ticked by, and the lab's clock hands moved steadily forward. The quiet was pervasive, broken only by the occasional sounds of the building settling for the night. You glanced occasionally at the door, expecting Gojo to return, but there was no sign of him.

He did not return to the lab that night.

And he was not in the lab the next day.

─── ·✧· ───

"Can you imagine having surgery with these?" 

Yuta joked, pointing at a set of rusty scalpels. His face scrunched up in mock horror.

Maki laughed. "I'd rather not. Makes me appreciate modern anesthesia."

Toge added a quick quip, "Unbelievable."

You and your friends decided to visit the local museum. Today, it was hosting a special medical exhibit, which naturally piqued your interest. The warm sunlight filtered through the museum's large windows, casting a golden glow over the exhibits.

As you walked through the halls, the exhibit unfolded in a series of medical histories and advances. There were sections dedicated to ancient medical practices, rows of archaic surgical tools that seemed more like medieval torture devices, and interactive displays on modern surgical techniques.

Amidst the array of exhibits, one particular section caught your eye. To the casual visitor, the subject matter might seem unappealing, but you found it absolutely fascinating. 

You excused yourself from your friends and approached the exhibit. It was a quiet corner of the museum, away from the more popular attractions.

You were so engrossed in reading a panel that you hardly noticed the approach of another visitor. It wasn't until you heard a familiar voice nearby. Your heart froze for a moment.

"I knew you'd be drawn to this," Gojo remarked, his presence suddenly beside you. He was observing the same exhibit, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Stalking me again, professor?"

"Purely coincidental, I assure you. I couldn't pass up this exhibition. Turns out, today's the only chance to see it."

You turned to face him. "You've got some nerve, Gojo. You left me alone in the lab, disappeared without a word, and then ignored all my messages. You can't just act like nothing happened."

His face softened. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to hurt you."

"If something's wrong, you need to tell me. This isn't just your project, Gojo. It's still Geto's project too. Your actions will not only affect me, but him as well."

"You're right."

Exhaling sharply, turning your attention back to the exhibit.

After a moment of silence, Gojo spoke again. "What are you doing afterwards?"

You turned slightly. "Hm?"

"Go out with me."

His invitation hung in the air between you, leaving you momentarily speechless. You turned to him, searching his expression for clues. "Go out... as in a date?"

"Call it whatever you want," he said. "I just want to spend time with you."

"This will only lead to trouble, you know that."

Undeterred, he stepped closer. His bandaged hand gently lifted your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. His height forced you to tilt your head back.

"I'm aware of that," he said. "But I don't care. I can't ignore this any longer... whatever this is between us. And I don't think you can either."

"Give me a chance," he implored, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "One evening. That's all I'm asking."

Time seemed to stretch out as you mulled over his request. "One evening?"

"One evening."

"Okay, one evening," you agreed.

A subtle smile played on Gojo's lips. "I'll wait for you outside."

Then he leaned in, as if to steal a kiss. But the sound of approaching footsteps quickly halted him. He withdrew his hand, leaving a trace of warmth where his touch had been.

"Talk about a small world," Yuta exclaimed, his eyes landing on you and Gojo, who was already keeping a professional distance.

Maki approached Gojo with a friendly greeting. "Quite a surprise seeing you here, professor."

Gojo responded with his usual charm. "Ah, the future of medicine, all gathered in one spot. Seems I'm not the only one drawn to this exhibition."

"I hope you're not here to quiz us, Dr. Gojo. We've had our fill of exams for a while," Maki said.

"I wouldn't dream of torturing my students outside of class."

Toge muttered something under his breath, earning a playful nudge from Yuta. "Don't jinx it," Yuta whispered.

The group moved through the exhibition together, with Gojo occasionally offering insightful comments. Eventually, he parted ways with you and your friends. He cast one last glance in your direction before saying goodbye.

As you and your friends continued exploring the museum, Maki nudged you playfully. "It's funny how Dr. Handsome always seems to be around you, isn't it?"

"It's just a strange coincidence."

"Yeah, sure."

You rolled your eyes. 

The rest of the museum visit passed in a light-hearted mood, with occasional teasing from Maki about Gojo. The sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful golden hue over the city streets as you made your way out.

"Oh, wait," you said suddenly, patting your pockets as if searching for something. "I think I left something back in the museum. You guys go ahead; I'll catch up."

Yuta looked concerned. "Do you need someone to go back with you?"

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I won't be long. Don't miss the train on my account."

After a moment of hesitation, your friends agreed and continued towards the subway station. You waited until they were out of sight, then went back to the museums's entrance.

"Hey, first-year."

Gojo's voice came from behind, startling you slightly. You turned to find him approaching with two cups of coffee in hand, steam rising into the evening air. His face lit up with a smile as he saw you waiting.

He handed you one of the cups. "Thought you might like some coffee. Just regular, though-no Red Bull mixed in, sorry," he said, a playful tone in his voice.

"How disappointing."

"Shall we go for a walk?"

You nodded.

The bustling sounds of the city surrounded you, the sky painted in vibrant oranges and pinks by the setting sun. The streets pulsed with the city's evening energy. Walking alongside Gojo, you sipped the warm coffee.

"Aren't you afraid of someone seeing us?" you asked, glancing around subtly.

"Are you?" 

"It's not like we're making out or anything," he added. "Unless you'd like to?"

"Don't push it, Gojo."

Your gaze fell on his bandaged hand. "How's your hand, by the way?" 

He switched the cup to his other hand and flexed the injured one. "It's healing well. Thankfully, a really skilled surgeon took care of it."

You rolled your eyes.

"Are you nervous about the upcoming surgery?" he asked.

"I am," you confessed. "You never seem to get nervous."

"Well, that's because I'm an exceptional neurosurgeon."

"Ah, sure, I forgot. You're the miracle doctor."

"Not really," he said. "I mean, I've always had a knack for it, but university wasn't always easy. It took a lot of effort to get to where I am now. Just like you. We're not that different, you know."

You observed him for a moment before asking, "Why neurosurgery?"

"Could ask you the same. What made you choose neurosurgery?"

"Why would I choose any another field when neurology exists?"

He chuckled. "Thought so."

"Plus, the patients are usually sedated, so that's a plus for surgery," you added.

"Ah, the mark of a true neurosurgeon's ego."

The evening had deepened, and a chill began to settle in the air as you and Gojo walked through the city streets. The vibrant energy of the day had given way to the serene calmness of the night. 

Streetlights cast a soft glow on the pavement, and the occasional sound of distant laughter and the hum of a passing car filled the air.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as a cool breeze seeped through your clothes. Without a moment's hesitation, Gojo halted and began to take off his jacket. "Here, wear this," he offered, draping it over your shoulders.

"But won't you be cold?" you asked, concerned as he would be left in just his shirt.

He simply smiled. "I'll be fine."

You slipped into his jacket, the sleeves oddly long on your arms. It was warm and carried the faint scent of his cologne. 

Gojo seemed unfazed by the drop in temperature as he watched you. He raised his hand to your face and ran his thumb gently over your cheek. His gaze fell to your lips. The bustling city street seemed to fade into the background as Gojo's proximity enveloped you. 

People passed by, a sea of faces lost in their own worlds, their voices fading to a distant hum as you and Gojo stood in your own intimate world. His thumb brushed over your lips, parting them slightly.

"Tell me, do you ever wonder what it would be like if we gave in?"

"For someone who says he's patient, you're really pushing it, Gojo."

Gojo's eyes darkened. His gaze locked onto your lips as he leaned in just a fraction closer. The world around you blurred, the bustling street becoming nothing more than a distant backdrop.

Gojo's lips curled into a seductive smile. "Maybe you're just too irresistible."

"Or maybe you only want me because you can't have me."

"Whatever the reason, first-year. The important thing is that we both want it."

The chemistry between you two was undeniable, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. You leaned in closer, your lips tantalizingly close to his. "And what do you want, professor?" you whispered.

You both knew the risks, the lines that shouldn't be crossed, but in that charged moment, it was so damn hard to resist. Every inch of your body craved for his touch.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you closer, eliminating any space between you. "I want to taste those lips of yours, to feel your body pressed against mine."

You breathed in each other's air as his parted lips hovered dangerously close to yours, yet not making contact. "I want to hear you scream my name," he whispered as he pulled you even closer with a sudden tug. His fingers dug into your back in a way that was almost painful. "Hear your soft pleas all night long."

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires. 

Without a second thought, Gojo turned you around, using his own body to shield you from the street. Not far from where you stood, a horrific car crash had unfolded. One of the vehicles went airborne before crashing onto its roof with a sickening thud.

For a moment, you both stood frozen, processing what had just happened. People began screaming and gathering around the site of the accident. Without having to exchange a word, you and Gojo sprang into action, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Gojo sprinted towards the mangled car, while you rushed to help the other vehicle.

As you reached the car, you saw the driver still inside, his head resting against the inflated airbag. You pushed open the driver's door. The man lifted his head slightly, blood dripping from a gash on his temple.

"We're here to help," you said. "Can you tell me your name?"

The driver mumbled something incoherent, his eyes struggling to focus. You carefully assessed the driver's condition, checking for any obvious signs of injury. His airway appeared to be clear, and he was breathing, albeit shallowly.

You continued to talk to the driver, trying to keep him conscious and engaged. "You've been in an accident, but we're going to get you out of here safely. Can you tell me if you're experiencing any pain?"

He didn't respond. You gently touched his head to tilt it towards you. You probed around the wound on his temple, checking for any underlying skull fractures or deformities.

"Do you know where you are? Can you tell me what happened?" you asked, trying to gauge his cognitive function. The man tried to speak, but nothing intelligible came out. His speech was slurred, and he seemed to be losing focus.

Then you heard a strained sound that resembled Gojo's voice. Looking up, you saw Gojo straining against the wreckage of the other car, trying to free the trapped driver. A nearby bystander was helping him.

You turned back to the driver in front of you. "Please stay still and try not to move until help arrives, okay?"

You went to a nearby bystander and instructed him to go to the driver and keep him still and engaged in speech. You hurried over to Gojo. He carefully pulled the woman out of the mangled car and laid her gently on the asphalt. Gojo hovered over her, checking her vitals.

"She's barely breathing." He leaned in to listen to her labored breaths. "She needs an emergency tracheotomy, now."

"What?" 

Your heart raced at the thought. There's no way you could do that here.

"Your jacket pocket, the right one," he instructed urgently.

Still wearing his jacket, you quickly reached into the right pocket. Your fingers found something, and you retrieved it. It was a sealed straw from the coffee Gojo had bought earlier. You handed it to him without a word.

"Now, the inner pocket on your left."

Reaching into the inner pocket, your fingers found a small, elongated case. "What's that?" you asked as you handed it over to him.

He opened the case, revealing a scalpel.

"You keep a scalpel with you all the time?" you exclaimed.

He briefly looked up at you with a sly smile. "Quite handy right now, don't you think?"

Without wasting a second, Gojo made a small incision in the driver's throat, skillfully inserting the straw to create an airway. It was unorthodox, to say the least.

Just then, you noticed a trickle of blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt. "You're bleeding," you said. He must have injured himself on the jagged metal while freeing the woman from the crashed car.

Gojo glanced down at his arm. "It's nothing."

The wail of the sirens grew louder as the paramedics arrived, quickly taking control of the situation. Gojo immediately began briefing them on the condition of the injured.

"I'll go with them to the hospital," he said, preparing to accompany the paramedics. But as he turned to leave, you grabbed his shirt.

"I'm coming with you."

"You should go home, get some rest."

"You wanted to spend time with me, so spend time with me, Gojo." You looked at him. "You wanted a whole evening, and it's not midnight yet."

He pondered for a moment. "Then come."

Climbing into the ambulance, you found yourself in the midst of medical equipment and the paramedics as they worked to stabilize the driver during the transport. The confined space was filled with the sound of medical equipment and hushed, urgent conversations. 

Gojo relayed the details of the incident to the team. It seemed as if he knew them, as he addressed them by name.

As you glanced at Gojo's arm, the bloodstain on his shirt was growing. You turned to one of the paramedics. "I need antiseptic and gauze."

The paramedic seemed a little taken aback by your firm tone.

"Now," you clarified.

"Uh, right here," he replied, pointing toward a nearby drawer.

"What are you doing?" Gojo asked as you moved around the ambulance like you owned the place.

You sat down beside him and seized his arm, rolling up his sleeve. His firm skin felt hot under your touch as you cleaned his wound. "You really are my personal doctor, aren't you?" he remarked, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"You should just take better care of yourself."

His eyes locked onto yours. "I guess I do need someone to watch out for me. Also, with your perfect stitching skills, I'd never let anyone else touch me."

You huffed. 

"Quite a first date, huh?" you quipped as you continued tending to his arm.

"So it is a date?"

"In your dreams, Gojo."

Then the ambulance arrived at the hospital.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the atmosphere was a flurry of activity as medical professionals worked diligently to care for the injured. Gojo quickly turned to you.

"Wait for me in my office," he instructed, handing you a set of keys. "I need to assist here and finish the necessary paperwork. I shouldn't be long."

You nodded. Before you could react, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, without another word, he left. Your heart raced. 

Clutching the keys, you made your way through the corridors of the hospital, searching for Gojo's office number, which was written on the keys. The adrenaline that had fueled your body slowly faded, leaving a trail of exhaustion in its wake.

Entering his office, you were greeted by bookshelves lining one wall, filled with medical texts and various journals, while a desk cluttered with papers and a laptop occupied another corner. The room looked quite different from his office at the university. Still, it had a warmth to it. 

It even had his scent.

You looked down at your clothes, stained and dishevelled from the night's chaos. You rummaged through Gojo's belongings and found what looked like a gym bag. Inside, you found a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants. They were undoubtedly his, large and probably loose on you, but they were clean.

He wouldn't mind, would he?

You looked down on yourself again. 

Yeah, whatever-even if he mind.

It felt strange to change into his clothes, but at the same time oddly comforting as you noticed his faint scent on them. You sank into the couch in his office, the events of the night replaying in your mind. The room was quiet, except for the distant sounds of the hospital at night.

You gazed up at the ceiling, then turned on your side and closed your eyes. Exhaustion gradually overcame you until sleep began to claim you.

Sometime later, the sound of the door gently opening stirred you from your sleep. Through half-closed eyes, you saw Gojo enter the room. He paused for a moment at the sight of you sleeping on his couch, a soft expression crossing his face.

"Gojo?" you murmured, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He moved quietly toward you, dropping to his knees before the couch. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," you replied, still wrapped in the warmth of his clothes. "How are the drivers?"

"They're stable. Don't worry."

Then he stood up again and moved to lie down on the couch behind you. You shifted slightly to give him more space, feeling his presence close to you. "How's your arm?" you asked him. Gojo settled down on the couch behind you, a soft sigh escaping him as he found a comfortable position.

"My arm's fine," he reassured you with a soft smile. "Thanks to you."

You turned onto your back, your eyes meeting his as he propped himself up on one elbow. His face hovered close to yours. "They look good on you." His hand reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "My clothes," he added.

"Sorry, I just wanted to get out of my dirty clothes."

"I don't mind."

A smile played at the corners of his lips. "You should've seen yourself out there," he said. "You really bossed those paramedics around. I'm sure they'll remember you."

"Well, if you keep hurting yourself, guess I'll have to keep patching you up."

Gojo's laughter filled the room, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled at you. "You can stitch me up anytime, doc."

"You better not make a habit out of this."

He chuckled softly, his thumb gently stroking your shoulder. "I'll try my best."

Lying there, side by side, you both gazed into each other's eyes. The room was filled with the soft light of the moon outside, casting gentle shadows across his face. Silence settled between you, the only sounds in the room were the soft breaths you both took.

"We do make a good team, don't we?" Gojo's voice broke the silence. "And I'm not just talking about in the OR."

"Are you implying something?"

"Nah, never."

As you let out a yawn, Gojo adjusted his position, lying down beside you. "Come here," he said softly. His arm encircled your shoulder, drawing you close to him. 

Instinctively, you nestled into him, your head finding a comfortable spot against his chest. His heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your ear.

The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath, brought a sense of safety and calm. You could feel the tension of the day slowly ebbing away. His fingers trailed lightly across your back, drawing absent patterns.

"You know, this is quite close for a student and a professor," you muffled against his chest.

"Is it? Should I go?"

Your fingers gripped his shirt, holding him in place. "No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't go."

A smile played on his lips. "I'm not leaving you," he whispered. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, he cuddled closer, the distance between you seeming to disappear.

Gradually, sleep began to claim you both. You drifted off, entwined in each other's arm. The office was quiet, save for the soft sound of your synchronized breathing and the faint, distant echoes of the hospital's nocturnal life.

Tomorrow, maybe, you would care about the consequences.

But not today. Not in his arms.

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author's note: hope you like slightly longer chapters, i didn't know when to stop with this one really. anyway, thank you for reading and feel free to leave your thought, i love to read them !! if you want to be added to the taglist, pls comment on the series masterlist ♡

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