elliewrites77

[elliewrites77]

Royal Advisor!Nanami

this was an idea I had around the same time I started writing the Uncle Sukuna series but i didn't have many chances to work on it. it's short, but sweet (i think), and i do intend on turning it into a full fic one day. i hope you guys enjoy <3 also, Nanami might be ooc, so i apologize if that bothers anyone.

Royal Advisor!Nanami who has been a trusted ally to the royal family for many years. After rising up in the ranks, starting as a lowly soldier, he made a name for himself in the higher circles. After being knighted, his reputation only improved. The nobles would praise him for his bravery and intelligence, and constantly offer high coin to pay for his services. Women (and some men) would fawn over his handsome looks, and all would admire his skills on the field.

Royal Advisor!Nanami who becomes the official Royal Advisor the same day you become Queen. Despite being pretty familiar with each other from over the years, you didn't know much about the man at first. But you quickly realized he was the one person you could always rely on and trust, which means he becomes the person with whom you spend most of your time.

Royal Advisor!Nanami who seemed to know what you needed before even you did. When you return to your chambers after a particular long day to a nice, relaxing bath already made with your favorite bath salts and your favorite scented candles spread around the bath, you know Nanami was the one who ordered it to be ready. When a long-standing member of the council is practically harassing you about marrying, constantly bothering you with the importance of finding an appropriate husband, is suddenly issuing a formal apology for his persistence, you know that you have Nanami to thank (though he never takes credit-you see the twinkle in his eye).

Royal Advisor!Nanami who you can't help but grow more and more fond of. You try to tell yourself it's simply because you knew that you could trust and rely on him, that he was good at his job and at being your confidant. But eventually, when you found yourself absentmindedly admiring the sharpness of his jaw, or how handsome he looked in the light of the lit library fireplace, you started to realize your fondness of him wasn't entirely friendly or appropriate considering your position. As more time went on, and you slowly allowed yourself to accept these feelings, you started noticing how he behaved and acted around you as well. You started noticing how he sought you out at times, just to be in your presence, how he protected you on instinct even when it wasn't necessary, how he listened to your rambles on the books you likes even when he had no interest in that, everything. It gave you hope, hope that you were reluctant to accept, that perhaps your newly-acknowledged feelings weren't unrequited. With that hope, you started to think of ways to finally get the truth, preferably without offering your whole heart beforehand.

Royal Advisor!Nanami who had disliked most of his previous positions. He became a soldier because of duty, and rose up in ranks because he was efficient, disciplined, and strategic. Even then, he only accepted those promotions because they allowed him to live a good life, and because he felt it was his duty to take on the jobs he was the best man for. Even when he accepted the position of royal advisor, his original motivation for doing so was because he felt he could improve certain aspects of the council and royal government.

Royal Advisor!Nanami who wouldn't admit to anyone, not even himself, that he liked this position the most because of you. Even though his duties were plentiful, and he dealt with frustrating and persistent nobles on a daily basis, he enjoyed being your advisor. He enjoyed being the one you spent most of your time, the one you confided in, the one who's opinion you valued above all else. He found himself enjoying spending time with you, whether for duties or for leisure. In fact, his favorite part of the day was when he would meet you in the library after supper. At first, it had been a coincidence that you both were there at the same time, but it quickly became habit. Despite spending most of your days together, you two would still meet every night after dinner, in the peace of quiet of the library, where neither of you were burdened by the weight of your responsibilities. It was a small retreat that gave him immense comfort, just as it did for you.

Royal Advisor!Nanami who doesn't know how to explain the feeling in his chest when Satoru Gojo, the next-in-line to the Gojo throne, and a particularly important ally, visits your kingdom. Of course you welcome him with open arms, insist that he have the best care from the servants while he is here, and you even start preparations for a small ball to be thrown in his honor. Nanami wishes he could pretend the jealousy and anger he felt every time he saw Gojo anywhere near you didn't exist, wishes he could ignore the stabbing feeling he got every time he saw how well the two of you got along.

But he cannot.

Royal Advisor!Nanami knew that Gojo and you were friends in childhood, being allied kingdoms and all, and you still shared some things in common to this day. Primarily your status, as Gojo was set to be king of his own kingdom soon. Nanami couldn't help but acknowledge the fact that, politically, Gojo and you would make a perfect royal match. He couldn't deny that it would bring two strong kingdoms together, or even say that it would be a particularly dreadful marriage considering the two of you were at least friends. In fact, the longer that Gojo remained a guest in your kingdom, the more Nanami was forced admit to himself that a betrothal between the two of you would likely be a prosperous and good thing. Despite knowing the logic of it, it still made him feel nauseous and a bit resentful.

Which is exactly why Nanami all but freezes when one night, you ask him his opinion on such a matter.

"Do you think Satoru would be a good husband, Ser Kento?" You ask as the two of you stand side by side along the balcony connected to your chambers. Nanami doesn't look at you, forcing himself to remain composed. He tries to think, but two sides of himself are fighting against each other, and he finds it difficult to choose which side to answer with. On one hand, he wants to say that, yes, Satoru Gojo would be a perfect match for you. The kingdoms would be united, likely prosper and grow more powerful than any other kingdom around, and you wouldn't be stuck in horrible marriage without someone you barely know and/or can't stand.

On the other hand, however, he wants to say that Satoru Gojo would never deserve your hand in matrimony. Not because Gojo was unpleasant or bad, per say, but simply because you were so much more. To Nanami, no man, prince or not, would ever be worthy of your affections (not even himself). You deserve worship, devotion, love. To be looked at as if you hung the stars yourself. But Nanami couldn't just say that he thinks you should remain unwed forever just because no man would be worthy enough. Even he could see how that would be silly for a Queen to do, and how selfish it would be for him to suggest it.

His internal dilemma delayed his response, causing you to turn and look at him. Seeing that, he turned his head slightly to meet your eyes. You had a small smile on your lips, one you always seemed to carry in his presence, and your eyes were soft, kind just like usual. He couldn't help but soften slightly himself upon looking at you. He cleared his throat, trying to remain his usual stoic-self.

"I think Prince Satoru would...be a great match, politically, your majesty. He will soon hold a powerful position, and it would be good to unite the two kingdoms." Nanami forced himself to say, despite the ache in his chest. He looked away, back to the stars to take a breath before he continued. "However, I will say, I do not think you should give up on your desire to marry for love, my Queen. Since you took the crown, you have fought many of the council members on this issue, and while I know that you and the prince are...friendly, and have much in common, I also know that...you do not love him." He adds, eyes remaining turned away. Your eyes remain on him, studying his profile, how the moonlight showers his handsome face. "But if you wish to marry him, then you as always have my full support." Nanami says after a period of silence, his voice tense as if he had to force the words.

Unknowing to him, your smile grows hearing the tone in his words. You hum, turning to look back to the night sky as well.

"I suppose you are correct, Kento, yet again. Satoru is a lovely man, and I enjoy talking to him about shared moments from our childhood. But I do not love him." You say swiftly. Nanami finally brings his eyes back to you. "And I imagine the fact that he is already betrothed to another is a good reason to avoid such ideas as well." You add, glancing at him with a mischievous looking grin. Nanami looks at you in confusion, having heard nothing of the prince being promised to another. And if that was so, why were you asking anyway? You held back a chuckle at the look on his face, turning to face him fully.

"I just wanted to see how you would react to such a proposition, Ken." You said, voice gentle but grin still present. Nanami looked at you in surprise, a light flush appearing on his ears at the fact that likely he hadn't done the best at hiding his true emotions on the matter.

"I'm not sure why that would be necessary, your majesty." He says, clearing his throat again. Perhaps he should see the physician about that.

"It was necessary, Ser Kento, because I wanted to try and see if you perhaps held the same affections for me that I do for you." You reply. Your smile softens, turning the slightest bit shy as you so boldly admit the feelings that you had tried hard to ignore for so long. His eyes widen, stoic facade failing as he stares at you, frozen once more.

There is a moment of tense silence, you heart racing as you wait for his response, wait to see if your admittance has either ruined your your relationship with your most trusted ally, or if it has set the path for a happier future. His heart is racing as he tries to come to terms with what your words meant. Affections? She holds affections for me? Does that mean that she feels for me how I have denied myself the right to feel for her? He is only broken from his own thoughts when he sees you fidget, very unlike yourself. He assess you on instinct, making sure you're okay before he realizes you had done so out of nerves, waiting for him to reply.

"My queen..." He starts, trying to find the words to say. "I am by no means deserving of your affections, your majesty. In fact, I think that no man alive would ever be worthy of such an honor. But...even though I have tried to deny them, I must admit, I do...return your feelings. And despite myself, I think I have harbored them for a long while." He says, a feeling of relief replacing the longing in his chest as he finally admits his love for his queen.

Your eyes light up, smile threatening to take over your face though you tried to remember yourself and not turn into some giddy teen. He can't help the small smile that takes place on his lips at the look on your face. So beautiful he thought. His hand twitches, hesitating to reach for you like he so desperately wants to, but slowly raising anyway when he tells himself to stop denying the truth of what he wants. He cradles your cheek, his touch light but telling of his reluctance to hold you as if you were his. Little did he know, that you already were.

His confidence grows when you lean into him, eyes fluttering a bit as you feel his warmth seep onto your skin, before you look into his own. He steps closer, so much so that you share the same air. The chill of the night is a stark contrast to the warmth he provides, and it makes you lean into his form just a little more.

"May I...may I kiss you?" He asks, voice practically a whisper, as if telling a secret only the two of you shared. Being so close, you could see the blush on his ears, though your sure it matched your own.

"Please do." You return his whisper, eyes shutting when he takes no time to connect your lips.

He kisses you softly, gently but not as if you are fragile, more as though you were precious. He kisses you as though he was savoring it, the plushness of your lips, the feeling of hold your body close to his own. It is soft and sweet, but the longing both of you felt (whether acknowledged or not), the feelings you both hold are clear, felt with every second that passed. It felt like forever before he finally pulled away, yet not nearly long enough for either of you.

As he looked down at you, a softness and openness to him that you had rarely seen, you couldn't stop yourself as another grin appeared.

"Perhaps your next promotion should be to King." You joked, though you meant your words entirely. He chuckles, eyes flicking across your face as if taking you in for the first time.

"As long as I am by your side, my title matters not." He responds, before pulling you in to another soft, loving kiss under the beautiful moonlight and twinkling stars.

Royal Advisor!Nanami who quickly becomes King Consort!Nanami, with little to no objection from the council since he was such a respected figure, so they didn't focus much on the fact that he wasn't a noble. They did object, however, when he asked for no coronation, not seeing a reason to host a large event for himself. He compromised on a wedding coronation, agreeing to be crowned and officially made King Consort on the same day he married you. Afterwards, of course, and he made sure they kept it quick. He simply wanted to get the formalities out of the way so that he could celebrate earning the title he had longed for a long time.

Your husband.

did i finish this at 2 am? yes. is it proofread? barely. could it be shit and i'm just too tired to realize it rn? absolutely! so if this is gone within a day, it's bc i got some sleep lmao. anyways, let me know what you think. any and all critiscim is appreciated and gratefully accepted! also, lmk if there are any typos or anything i need to fix. I hope you guys enjoy, and I hope everyone has a lovely day! <3 don't be like me, get some sleep <33333

[elliewrites77]

this is so cute!!!

✦︎Sukuna x reader All yours.

"'Kuna?" "Hm?" "Are you comfortable with me?"

Sukuna and you had been seeing each other for the past 10 months. Ten. That should be enough for someone to know if a person likes them, right? Of course it should. That's 300 days. Yet whenever Sukuna was around you, every word, every touch felt calculated. Hesitant. You brushed it off for a while, thinking that it's just how this big burly man, with a staggering height and inked skin, is. But the small responses, the quick look aways were bothering you. And you needed to know. So you found yourself at your apartment, lounging around in the living room with Sukuna seated comfortably on the sofa. A respectable distance between you two. Too respectable for lovers. You tried to initiate proximity, sure, you did. But every time you scooted closer to show him a silly cat video, shoving the phone in his face, he would pull back slightly, glancing away. And these little incidents crept through your pretty mind, creating a turmoil, egging you on to ask the said question. Raising a brow, Sukuna looked at you from where he was sprawled out. Sharp eyes narrowing onto you as if to say, 'Where'd this come from?' But the thoughts of him not wanting you, no yearning for you like you did had seeped through and now you were conflicted. Was Sukuna really comfortable with you? "I mean-", you started, a small exhale leaving you. "...do you feel okay with me? Do you not like it when I'm too close to you? You keep looking away. You can tell me if you don't want to, y'know. I wanna make you feel safe-" "I like you." Woah, that was unexpected. Your brows raised up to your hairline, not used to such a statement by him. Sukuna showed he liked you: through small gifts, but not proximity, though never said it. These words changed things. A tinge of red bloomed across Sukuna's ears as he cleared his throat. He shied away, looking down at his lap. "I do feel comfortable with you, I just..." He grunted, a small frown gracing his lips. How could he tell you that he was shy? How could he tell you that he liked you so much more, that his brain fluctuated every time you smiled at him, that he had to look away to function properly? That every time you cooed at him, he had to physically restrain himself from the cuteness aggression and suppress his urges to squish you? Because the big, bad Sukuna never did that. A snort, then silence. You were trying to hold back a laugh, but you wanted him to talk. "Suku, are you shy?" You asked, smugly raising a brow. What a gremlin. Sukuna thought to himself affectionately. Scoffing, he turned his head away, arms crossed defensively. "Hell no.", he snarked but his pink face said otherwise. "Awwww, you're so cute." You shifted closer, causing Sukuna to tense up as your warm hands cupped his cheeks. Shit, he could melt. "You could have told me. And here I was, thinking you hate me or something.", you cooed. "Your stupid questions make me hate you." "You're sooooo cute." "I take my words back. Get off of me this instant." His hands circled your waist. He didn't hesitate, leaning into you. "Too late, mwah." You plant a kiss to his nose, making him turn red as you laugh with genuine amusement. Your lover was the sweetest thing ever. "Don't shy away from me, okay? I want you to feel free with me." That made Sukuna's eyes soften, longingly gazing into yours. A smile like that could ruin his life, and he'd let it. Because Sukuna knew you're the only one he'd ever be comfortable with.

First blog. Constructive criticism is welcome with open arms. I would appreciate any requests and prompts. I hope you like this just as much as this upgraded fire boy likes you. Thank you for reading. -Masterlist-

[elliewrites77]

It's Not Working Out!

When you're their gym buddy (pre-relationship) incl: toji, satoru, sukuna, choso, kento, suguru ex.: just a random smau i had an idea for. since I haven't put much out in a bit, I'm starting small. there are a few mistakes, pls ignore lol. tisn't my best but ah well, I hope you guys enjoy :) kinda suggestive (mostly toji and sukuna) and includes cursing. edit: thank you to @fifigottagoo for the much better title idea <33

[elliewrites77]

The look of love, the rush of blood

Sukuna x reader. est relationship. down bad Sukuna

BoyfriendSukuna wasn't clingy or needy. He's not the type to cry over a day without seeing you, nor is he the type to pester you with constant messages or calls about your where abouts and annoying you to come see him. A simple text about your plans for the day or even a post it note on the fridge -for the days you slept over which was almost everyday - was enough for him. He was possessive, but he can survive a day or two without you.

Or so he thought.

BoyfriendSukuna was dropping you off your best friends house for an impromptu sleepover. Your best friend just got dumped and now you need to be her shoulder to cry on or whatever. That was fine or at least it was until you mentioned that you didn't know when you'll be sleeping over his place cause apparently these things "take time" and are "unpredictable."

Surprising even himself, he didn't like that. He didn't like that at all. He realized if you weren't sleeping over his apartment, he'd usually crawl into your bed late at night. Still he thought it wasn't a necessity, that falling asleep next to you was a want not a need. Yet now that he doesn't have that option..

Vein throbbing, Sukuna can give your best friend tonight, but tomorrow you will be back on his bed where you belong.

You were saying your final goodbyes in front of his car window. Eyes bright and laced with a warmth he believes you only reserve for him, "Bye, Kuna! Ill give you updates everyday!"

He grits his teeth. Why did it sound like you were going on a month long cruise?

"Oi." He calls out before you could turn around.

Tilting your head, "Kuna?"

For a moment he kept quiet. Carmine eyes taking their time drinking you in, having his fill of you as if he won't see you for weeks. They snap to back to your pretty face, tracing every slope and curve. "Come closer, brat."

And you do which makes his lips curl a bit. Always so obedient for him.

With his left hand, his touch firm yet gentle on the back of your head as he pushes your face towards his.

Soft lips against his rough ones, kissing you long and fervently, devouring you whole in one kiss. He feels you melting into it, whimpering such pretty sounds into his mouth. The tension finally eases out of him and it takes everything in him to pull away.

"Ill pick you up tomorrow," He murmurs against your lips, breath mingling with yours.

You blink. Once. Twice, "But Kuna-"

He cuts you off with another kiss, but softer this time. Gentle even. "No buts, brat. Ill pick you up tomorrow evening at the latest. She gets no more than that. You can visit here everyday for all I care, but you're sleeping with me."

A knowing smile teases your lips, "Are you gonna miss me that much, Kuna?"

"Shut up." He grunts, rolling your eyes at how pleased you look.

You burst out laughing and he hates at how pathetically melts at the sound. How it makes his insides warm like some love sick fool.

After brushing a imaginary tear from your eye, you lean back to his face and press a soft kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry. Ill have one of our other friends sleepover tomorrow night."

"Whatever."

Your smile widens into a grin, "I'll just tell them my big bad boyfriend can't sleep without me."

"Don't you dare-"

You run towards the door before he could do anything, laughter ringing out the driveway. And the way you smile makes his chest tighten in the most pathetic way.

The moment you disappear from view. He groans, dragging a hand down his face.

Fuck.

He didn't realized he was so down bad that going home without you felt like a life sentence.

So pathetic. So damn pathetic for you.

[elliewrites77]

one of my favorite mini-series <333

knocked out up!

getting back shots in someone else's bed post-breakup is fun - until you have a bump to show for it a few months later

synopsis: your former best friend has been in love with you long before you ran into him after breaking things off with your boyfriend. and he won't hesitate to show you this time around.

pairing: baby daddy!Sukuna x f!Reader

content: mdni, pregnancy, friends to strangers to coparents, messy relationship history, ex-bf!Gojo, leaving a toxic relationship, one night stand, oral (f! receiving), face sitting, reverse cowgirl, multiple positions + povs, sukuna is obsessed, reader stands up for herself, pining, more tags in individual chapters

index

mistake | first taste

the way things are | criminal

honey | across the universe

dividers by @bronzewasp

[elliewrites77]

Uncle!Sukuna Part 8

Uncle!Sukuna who stayed at yours for most of the morning. To be completely honest, Sukuna got so caught up with spending time with you, sharing kisses and holding you on the couch, that he almost forgot he had to pick Yuji up at some point. He had yet to get a call from Toji, so it simply slipped his mind that he would actually have to leave.

He remembers, however, when he does get a call from the father, answering the phone to immediately hear Toji's annoyed voice on the other end.

"You better be on your way to get this brat. Keeps getting Megs to attack me, saying m'some villain they're fighting. I'm tired of these little shits climbin' on me." Sukuna heard, making him smirk at his friends expense, not even thinking to apologize for not being on his way yet.

"Oh come on, old man. They're just kids. You really can't handle two of them?" He teases, though he does stand from the couch after you move off of him to give him room.

"Yea, wanna call me old? Remember this conversation the next time you need a babysitter to go on your little dates."

"Tsk, don't get your panties in a bunch, I'm just messin'. I'll be there soon. And if you want, I can take Megumi for you some time too." Sukuna was surprised he would even offer to take care of another persons kid, but the words had come naturally, and he couldn't find it in him to hate the idea. If Toji was surprised too, he didn't say anything.

"Definitely keepin' that in mind. Now hurry up." Toji hangs up before Sukuna could say reply, making him scoff as he pocketed his phone.

He put on his shoes, unfortunately the ones from the night before since, while you had clothes for him to wear, you didn't have those. But he didn't complain as he slipped them on, especially not when he saw you smile as you looked at him - dressed in casual, lazy-day attire, except for his fancier dress shoes. It was a little amusing.

Sukuna didn't want to leave, not when he looked at you all lazy, cuddled up on the couch. But he knew he had a responsibility, and while he wouldn't admit it, he did somewhat miss the kid running around like every other morning. So he pulled you up, kissing you in a way that made you a little dizzy, before pulling away with a smirk (when was he not smirking). You said your goodbyes, before you watched him pull away from your house from your doorstep.

When you went back inside, you had a smile on your face as you started to clean up a little before Choso got home.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You were in your bedroom when the sound of your front door opening was heard. You walked out into the hall, hearing the voices of Shoko and Choso, which made you smile.

As soon as you were in view of the living room, Choso lights up, running to hug you, which you of course return. Squeezing him tight, you smile at Shoko.

"Mom! Aunt Leiri took me to the arcade, and we got to play mini golf." Choso informs, excited to tell you about all the details of his day. You grin down at him, rubbing his head affectionally as you make sure to give him your full attention. "I beat her at the zombie shooting game, too! And got a lot of tickets. I was able to get some candy to share with Yuji."

"That's awesome, baby! I'm glad you had a nice time with your Aunt Leiri. Did you remember to tell her thank you?" You say, glancing up to the women when you mention her.

Choso nods, breaking away to hug his aunt.

"Thanks again aunty. I'm gonna go unpack my bag before Yuji gets home!" He quickly runs off, making both of you laugh as you watch him.

"Home, huh? Sounding like the kid already lives here." You can hear the teasing in her voice without even turning to see her.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn and give her a look. Her teasing smile doesn't falter once when you do, making you sigh.

"He doesn't, you know that." You say. You aren't upset by her words, knowing that she was just messing with you as well as knowing that there was truth to what she said. "Yuji is just over a lot, and Choso and him really get along." You try to explain. Shoko laughs.

"Oh, I heard. Choso kept going on and on about the kid when I picked him up yesterday. Mentioned his uncle too." Her brows raise, giving you a look like she knows exactly what's been going on in your life, with you and Sukuna.

You can't hold back a smile, not having any way to honestly defend yourself against her unspoken and correct assumptions.

"Look I was going to tell you, but yesterday was only our second date. I didn't wanna get ahead of myself, make it out to be something it isn't." You say with a chuckle, shrugging your shoulders as though it wasn't a big deal. Truthfully, your feelings for the man were a big deal, but still. It was easier to pretend otherwise, for now.

"And now?" She asks, making you tilt your head slightly in confusion. "Is it something now?" She clarifies. Her words make you flustered a bit, recalling the night spent in Sukuna's arms on your very couch. You wanted to say yes, but could you really? You spent the entire morning with Sukuna, acting like a couple already, but not once did either of you think to establish what you actually were.

"I'm..not entirely sure." You say, feeling a little awkward when she rolls her eyes. There's no malice behind her action, and you know she is probably exasperated with your inability to go after what you want, at least when it comes to something such as relationships and romance. "We just haven't really talked about it yet. But we will, and I promise you'll be the first person I call to tell all about it when we do." You playfully try to appease. She shakes her head with a smirk, and you're positive that she plans to hold you to your words.

Before either of you can say another thing, the sound of her phone ringing loudly cuts through the hair. It makes her huff, rolling her eyes -this time in real annoyance- before pulling it out and looking at the ID.

"Damn it." She mumbles, putting the phone back into her pocket with the ringing continues. "I've gotta go. Work emergency. If I make them wait any longer, they'll be on my ass even more. I'll be in town another day or two, but I doubt I'll be able to stop by." She says. You nod in understanding, moving to walk her out. It sucks that your time with her was so short, but you know that her job is demanding, and she's too much of a work-a-holic to heed your advice to take some more time for herself.

"I get it. Thank you for spending the day with Cho, Shoko." She smiles at you, shrugging one shoulder as if her actions were nothing. They meant a lot to you, though, considering she was the only actual connection he had with his paternal family (the only one worth having, to be fair). But you knew she wouldn't want to get all sappy and sentimental, and she was in a rush, so you let it slide. "Please text when you can, and don't forget to not overwork yourself too much."

"I'll try not to, but you know me." She jokes (not a joke), walking to her car.

You wave her off, closing the door behind you when she's out of sight. Then you walk towards Chosos room, seeing his door wide open.

You see his unpacked duffle bag on the bed, next to a dumped out bag of candy and cheap prizes. He's putting stuff away in his dresser, and you take a moment to watch your little boy, who didn't seem so little anymore. This thought reminds you of the necklace that remained around your neck, your hand moving to touch it.

"So who's your dealer, honey?" You ask, smiling when Choso jumps, not knowing you were there. He turns to you, a grin lighting up his face when he sees you fiddling with the necklace.

"Can't say. I wouldn't want to incriminate myself." He jokes, playing along with a cheeky grin.

You chuckle, shaking your head fondly at your son.

"Did you use any means that I would disprove of?" You ask, needing to make sure. You didn't mind if your son had some secrets, as it was a normal thing, but you would always make sure that he was being safe, and smart.

He didn't hesitate to shake his head, and knowing your son, you knew he was telling the truth. So you gave him another smile.

"Good. Thank you for the necklace, it's beautiful." You say, walking further into the room. You kiss the crown of his head before brushing some of his hair out of his face. "You're gonna need a cut soon." You think out loud, pushing his thick strands back a bit. Choso groans, making you chuckle. He hated going to the barber.

"Can Sukuna do it?" He asked, giving you puppy eyes before you even have a chance to reply. "Please? He cuts Yuji's hair." He explained, which clears your confusion on why he was the immediate option. You smiled.

"We can ask, and if he's okay with it, sure." You answered. Right after you speak, you both hear rushed knocking from your front door. Leaving his room with furrowed brows you go to the front window.

Right away, you see Yuji excitedly standing on your front porch, still knocking. Choso, who was looking with you, immediately went to open it with a grin, one that Yuji eagerly returned. Yuji barely says hello to you as he races inside your home, lead by Choso to his bedroom. You breath a laugh as you watch them race away, before your attention is brought to the much larger man now standing in your open doorway.

"Miss me, baby?" Sukuna teases, coming inside as if he lived here. You didn't complain. You smile at him, rolling your eyes playfully.

"I might have missed you if you had stayed away longer. You got back so quick it almost seems like you were missing me." You tease back.

He hums with smirk, moving towards you. Wrapping his hands around your waist, he pulls you into a kiss. Even just a slow, sweet kiss has your heart racing just a little faster than normal. He is still smirking when he pulls away.

"Maybe I was, just a bit." He jokes. You smile again, pulling him into another kiss.

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That evenings, Sukuna and Yuji join you and Choso for dinner. You ask Yuji how his weekend was at the Fushiguro household, and listen as they two boys excitedly talk about the arcade that Choso had went to and how they want to got together. You laugh as Yuji asks Sukuna to take them, giving him an adorable pleading look that you know Sukuna can't resist (understandably). The man grumbles before promising to take them both sometime soon, to which both boys cheer.

After dinner, while Sukuna insists on doing the dishes, you help Yuji and Choso get ready for bed, and get their things ready for school the next day. Sukuna had gone across the street to his house to get Yujis' things, after the boys asked if they could have a sleepover. So you were making sure they had everything ready.

"Now just because we let you have a sleepover on a school night doesn't mean I want either of you staying up past your bed time, understood?" You say, stern but not unkind, as the two were brushing their freshly washed hair.

"Yes ma'am." They both say, giving you equally innocent and adorable grins. Your eyes flick between them, knowing that despite being good kids, they were still kids. Meaning their innocent looks weren't to always be trusted. But still, you believe them, and give them a smile.

You leave them to their devices, telling them you'll be back soon to put them to bed, before going out to your kitchen. Sukuna is just finishing with the dishes, and turns his head to look at you when he hears your enter.

"The brats giving you trouble?" He immediately questions. you shake your head, amused.

"No, the boys are just finishing getting ready for bed." You answer, leaning against the counter next to him. He smirks, putting the last dry dish aside before turning to you.

He looks at you for a moment, and the longer he goes without speaking, the more you feel like there's something on your face. Before you can question him, though, he relieves your confusion.

"Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" He asks. You blink, the randomness of the question requiring you to take a moment in order to process. Sukuna, surprisingly, doesn't get worried by your pause. He just continues to smirk as he waits.

You blush eventually, your smile turning shy as if you were still in highschool. To be fair, Sukuna made you feel that way most of the time, like you were a young girl with her first crush, asking to be girlfriend and boyfriend. You do manage a small chuckle though, pulling him closer to you.

"I'd love to." You say. Sukuna grins, leaning down to you and embracing your lips in a long kiss, relief and what feels a lot like love flowing through the both of you all the while.

Neither of you see the two young boys watching from behind the corner as they high five each other quietly and share excited grins.

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most of this was written before my small break, but I had wanted to try and make it longer. Now that I'm back though, I kinda just wanna get it out, so if it's a little short or badly paced, I apologize. I'm already working on part 9 tho! I hope yall enjoy, and i hope everyone is having a lovely day <3 barely proofread (im sorry)

[elliewrites77]

HEWWWOOO I JUST WANTED TO SAY I ADORE UR SOULMATE AU SO FAR! i know u said sanji isn’t ur fav straw hat but i think u wrote him very well!! thank u for ur service, i always go rabid for a good soulmate au 🫦🫦🫦

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!

I did my best when writing him, so im so glad you enjoyed it!! I love a good soulmate au too!! I will make sure to do my best when writing the other straw hats, and each one's part 2 <3

also, thank you for your ask and I hope you have an absolutely wonderful day!!!!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[elliewrites77]

For the Dancing and the Dreaming

Vinsmoke Sanji x fem!reader Soulmate AU

Masterlist ⟶ More

this has been sitting in the drafts for months, but it's one of the only finished things I've got to break the hiatus I've been on lol

As you walked through the lively town, the houses and buildings were decorated with vibrant banners, flags, and streamers. People were already dressed up in elaborate clothes, musicians already getting set up throughout the village.

Tonight was the annual Tori Festival, and the village went all out every year. People would start setting up a week prior, and the festival would last until tomorrow morning. It was a beautiful event, and you were excited. However, it did make getting through town much easier, even though it was hours until the festival actually began.

You were trying to make your way to the local tavern, needing to pick up an order of ingredients for a festival-special meal your Nan made. But with the people already crowding the streets, you had a harder time then usual getting there.

Once you make it, you're not surprised to find the tavern packed full, visitors and locals taking up every table and seat at the bar. Making your way through, you find a part of the bar to lean against, looking around for the owner.

Once you get his attention, you greet him and chat for a moment, before he leaves to get your order. As you're waiting, you see a group enter the packed room. Seeming unfamiliar, you turn your head to get a better look. Before you can examine them, the owner returns with your things.

As you take your things and say your goodbyes, you turn your head to seek out the group you had briefly seen come in, something in your head telling you to seek them out. When you couldn't see them through the crowd, you gave up and made your way out.

On the way home, you couldn't help but wonder if you might see that group again. You hoped so.

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

Later that evening, your Nan was all set up at a small booth to hand out her food, and your baked goods. It was a lot of work, making so much food for the festival, but it was tradition. Plus, you always enjoyed having a specific spot along the side to watch as the festival truly began. The sun was setting, but the streets remained well-lit by the torches and lanterns scattered about. The music playing throughout the village made it difficult to even try to have a conversation, so you were content with people-watching. Dancers moved throughout the streets, their colorful garbs creating an array of colors and shapes. Even the people simply watching the festivities were dressed up in costumes that resembled that of the birds the festival was in honor of.

Everyone in the village was in the spirit. You couldn't help but imagine what an outsider might think if they saw the joyful chaos that was happening in your home without proper context. As you think that, you see some of the members of the group you saw before, at the tavern. There was a man with a straw hat, one with three swords, one with a long nose, and two (stunning) women, one with black hair and one with orange. As soon as the 'Strawhat' saw the banner above your families booth, advertising the traditional dish, his face lit up, and he took off towards you. His eagerness made you and your Nan laugh, and like always, you stood as he reached you. You made him a plate instantly, not even trying to communicate with how loud everything was around you. He didn't hesitate to take it, scarfing it down like a starved man. Again, you laughed, before making some more plates as they others reached you.

They all seemed to enjoy the dish as they ate, Strawhat coming back for more so many times that your Nan cut him off. Even through the music, you heard his whine of disappointment. With a grin, you directed him to the pastries. He didn't get nearly as excited, but his eyes still lit up. So much so that you wondered if he had been starving. He sure acted like it.

Eventually, they wandered off, each leaving with a wave and a smile to enjoy the rest of the activities and booths. With that, you decided to take a little break. The festival was fun, of course it was, but the volume and proximity of others could get overwhelming. Plus, you wanted to dance at some point, but that wouldn't be as enjoyable if you were already too overwhelmed. So you left your family to the booth, taking a few alleyways till you reached the edge of the main village. Here, the buildings started to have more distance between them. The music could still be heard, but it was more muffled and distant. You took a moment to breath, leaning against the wall of a building.

You close your eyes, soaking up the moonlight and the night breeze. You loved the festival, but you could admit that this tradition could be a lot to prepare for and work, and the past few weeks have been busy because of it. The chance to take a break was rare, so you wanted to enjoy this one as much as possible.

It allowed you a chance to breath, but also let you think about your recent plans. You had been dying for a chance to venture off the island. A few weeks ago, a pirate crew, friendlier than most, had stopped by and you had heard about their adventures. The story of their travels had sparked something within you, something that longed to see the world beyond the same beaches you've known your whole life. You had been planning to wait till after the festival, till when things are a lot calmer and not as busy, but you intended to leave. Maybe not forever, but for a while, just to experience new things. You already had a plan to get a ride on a supply ship that would be coming in a few days, and go wherever that took you. So, maybe not a very good plan as there were a lot of unknowns, but you had been saving up as much as you could, working extra hours in the bakery too. At least money wouldn't be an issue for a little while.

Now that the festival was finally here, the upcoming leave date you set for yourself looming over you, you couldn't help but second guess yourself. Was it really wise to leave behind everything you know? With no plan, no destination, no one to join you? Logically, no, it wasn't. But something in your heart battled with your mind, telling you that more was what you needed. Even if that was a complete mystery.

In your contemplation, you absentmindedly rubbed the tattoo along your collar bone, a habit you developed ever since it was engraved onto your skin. One reason you knew you longed to leave was because you knew your soulmate was somewhere out there. Maybe traveling into the unknown would result in you finally finding the person you've longed to know for so many years.

You thoughts are interrupted by the sound of fireworks being set off, the colors lighting up the sky above you. The suddenness startles you, making you jump off the wall with a small scream, eyes jerking to look at the sky.

"Are you alright, mon cher?" You hear suddenly behind you, another small scream leaving you as you whip around.

Behind you, a tall blonde man stands with a slightly concerned look on his face, a cigarette between his lips. You stare for a second, startled by his sudden presence and trying to connect why those words sounded so familiar. But when it hits you, you gasp.

"It's you!" Is all you think to say. You see his eyes widen, his hand moving to his own collar bone, the same area as yours. He takes a moment to process it, just like you had, before giving you the most charming grin and moving closer.

"Finally, you have no idea how eager I have been to meet you, mon cher. I'm Sanji." He introduces himself, grabbing your hand as you tell him your name with a smile. You grow flustered when he brings your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it like a storybook prince. He stares at you with hearts in his eyes, as if you were the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He also doesn't release your hand, but you make no move to pull it away.

"May I ask why you are hiding away here, love? Not enjoying the festival?" He asks, watching the way the fireworks reflect in your eyes, the way the colors light up your face.

"No, I was. I just needed a break. I needed a moment away from the noise and people." You explained. At the reminder of the festival, you looked at him in thought. "You're new here, aren't you? Oh wait, you're with that Strawhat dude!" You realized, grinning. That explains why he seemed a little familiar.

He laughs, amused by how quickly his captain had already left an impression.

"Yes, mon cher, I am. Luffy insisted we stay the night once we heard about the festival, but we were only here for supplies." He explained, to which you nodded in understanding.

"Luffy, is that strawhat? He came by my families booth earlier, ate most of what we had." you laugh, a sound that makes him grin more. "And the people he was with, looks like an interesting group."

He rolls his eyes fondly, knowing his crew is a strange bunch, but they compliment each other perfectly. Except for moss head he thinks, reminding himself why he was out here in the first place.

"You could say that, love. Speaking of my crew, have you seen the idiot with the green hair anywhere?"

"Not since they left the booth. Why? Did something happen?"

"Other than him having an annoying habit of getting lost, no. But I was sent this way to find him, before I got distracted by a beautiful sight." He flirted, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. You chuckle, shaking your head. Such a flirt.

"Well forgive me for the distraction. But no, I haven't seen him, or anyone else come this way. Unless he did before I made it here. It's kind of easy to get lost here, especially with the festival." You say, beginning to tug him back down the alleyways, towards the festival once more.

"I can help you look for him though. We should start with asking some of the folks with booths out, maybe they saw him pass by. He is pretty recognizable."

♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪

Once the 'moss head' was found, who you learned was named Zoro, you watched the two argue back and forth, the sight making you laugh as you followed them to reunite with their group. You still didn't know exactly what this 'crew' was, but you assumed they were pirates. Figuring you would find out eventually, you didn't bother asking.

Sanji didn't release your hand the entire evening, but it didn't bother you at all. You would expect your hand to feel sweaty or cramped but it didn't. Being soulmates, they just fit. When you approached the rest of his group, not a single person questioned your presence once they saw your hand in his, knowing what that meant. They were all happy for the cook.

You were introduced properly to the crew, actually being able to talk since they had found a quieter place to rest. You could still hear the festival going on outside the building, not having calmed down yet. After getting to know them for a while, Sanji invited you to dance, leading you outside to where the crowd was, people still dancing the night away. As the two of you joined them, you felt like you were living a dream. Dancing with your soulmate, the music bringing you and Sanji closer together. It was just as you had always wished.

But as the night came to an end, at least for yourself and the Strawhats, you could feel a sense of worry creep in. Doubts about the future were starting to form, not knowing what it meant that your soulmate was (most likely) a pirate. Sure, you planned to leave the island anyway, so you wouldn't be opposed to joining them, but that's if they even wanted you. What could you offer a pirate crew anyway? You were a baker, you had no fighting skill or special gifts. Would they want someone who can offer them nothing? Just because of a tattoo on one members skin?

As Sanji walked you to your families booth, these were the thoughts running through your mind. And he noticed, glancing at you with concern. He pulled you to the side, getting close so that you could hear him speak.

"Is everything alright, mon cher?"

You looked up at him, giving him a small smile that was a little forced.

"I'm..not sure. I'm just thinking, about what happens now. I mean...clearly you and the others aren't planning to stay, and that's okay, because I was planning on leaving. But...if my assumption is correct, and you guys are pirates, then I'm not sure if I'd even be welcome to come with you." You spoke honestly. Sure, it was a bit early to be talking so seriously, but this wasn't a normal relationship, it was a soulmate connection. You believed in honesty and communication, so sharing your thoughts and feelings when it pertains to the two of you was important.

Sanji felt slightly shocked when you mentioned them being pirates, finding your intuition attractive. Nothing about them screamed 'pirates' so it was a pretty good guess, in his opinion. He smiled at you.

"You are correct, love. What gave us away?" He joked slightly, lighting up when a real smile crossed your lips. "But I know Luffy would love to have you come aboard. You are my soulmate, that is reason enough. And I know there are things you can offer the crew, so please don't think you'd ever be a burden." He continued, hoping to comfort your worries, hoping you would trust that he knew his captain well.

You nodded, sighing in relief. The confidence in his words made you feel better, trusting that he was right.

"So that..means you'd want me to come, right?" You asked, a bit hesitant, needing a little reassurance that this was something Sanji actually wanted.

"Of course I do, amor, without a doubt." He said, no hesitation in his words. At this, you grinned, pulling him to you. You wrapped your arms around his midsection, laying your head on his chest. He was a little surprised by the hug, but in a matter of seconds, his arms wrapped around you, hugging you back tightly, resting his head on top of yours.

After a minute there, simply holding each other, you resumed the walk, seeing your family almost finished with packing up the booth. The food had been finished, your pastries included, and your family was tired. The festival was still active, but it was time for you and your family to go home.

Saying your goodbyes, you promised to meet Sanji at the tavern tomorrow, before leaving him with another warm hug and a shared smile.

You couldn't wait to see what the future holds.

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I'll be completely honest, Sanji is not my favorite straw hat. So it was a little difficult to feel motivated to write for him, but I hope I did an okay job!

I do plan to do a part two, one that actually focuses on them, because I know this has a lot of back story and stuff that doesn't actually have to do with Sanji. But i'm a rambler, what can ya do.

So just so it's known, there will be a part 2 for each of the strawhats I do for this AU, but that won't be until I've gotten each part 1 out.

Barely proofread

[elliewrites77]

A Mothers World

This is technically part of my Uncle!Sukuna series, but it is not required to read nor do you have to read the previous parts :) this was just a little idea I had when writing part 7 that i wanted to write about but didn't know how to add naturally into the story. so instead, here's a little snippet/flashback of Chosos' birth/reader going through labor! I have not given birth or know much about it, so if there's any incorrect info or inaccurate descriptions, i apologize. I hope yall enjoy!!

36 hours. That's how long you had been in labor. 36 long, sweaty, painful hours. 15 of them, you spent alone. Well, other than the nurses and doctors that surrounded you.

By hour 10, you were already feeling drained. You just wanted him out, wanted to be done with the stuffy hospital and the overwhelming smell of chemicals.

By hour 21, your patience had worn too thin. So went Shoko finally rushed into the room, you barely looked at her before demanding to know where she had been. Shoko didn't even blink, not at all put off by your short behavior, as she told you she got on the first plane she could to get here, but could only do so so fast. She also didn't blink when you started crying, apologizing for snapping at her unfairly. She just held your hand, telling you drink water, making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

By hour 30, you were about ready to reach inside and pull him out. Contractions were bad, getting worse by the hour it felt, and you were starting to question every decision that led you to this point. Shoko smirked every time you insisted that you would never go through this again, despite having always said you wanted multiple children. She tried to comfort you with distractions, asking about work, telling you about hers, boring things like that. Nothing worked for too long.

By 36, you were pushing. Shoko stood by your head, holding your hand. You were squeezing her hard enough that she had to grit her teeth, but she didn't mention it at the time. You were screaming, barely able to hear the doctors and nurses attempts at soothing you with words. At the final push, you were sure you were about to pass out. Maybe you did. All you remember is one moment you were screaming, pushing your baby out as hard as you could, and the next, you could hear the sounds of his cries.

Between the effects of labor, and hearing your son cry for the first time, you laid in the hospital bed with tears running down your cheeks as you waited to be able to hold him. It didn't take long before you saw a nurse bringing you your baby, wrapped in a blue blanket and one of those hospital hats. You couldn't stop the tears or your smile as you carefully take him into your arms.

You smile down at your son, already falling in love with the beautiful boy. His small hand grips your finger as you gently rub his cheek, and you swear your entire world brightens when his little eyes open and he looks up at you.

"Hi my precious boy." You whisper tearfully, watching him with stars in your eyes. He squeezes your finger slightly, and although you knew he didn't know what he was doing and had no muscle control, you let yourself believe that he was saying hello back. You gently kissed his head, holding him to your chest. Unable and unwilling to take your eyes off of him, you watch as his eyes close again, the smile never leaving your lips as you look down at your world.

The rest of it is smooth sailing, and when you finally get back home, you immediately take your son, Choso, to his nursery. He wouldn't be sleeping there yet, but you had designed it just for him, and you wanted it to be one of the first places he knew. So as you sat with him in the rocking chair you had in the corner, quietly humming and watching him once again, you imagined him growing up in that very space.

Thinking about the years to come with your son made those painful 36 hours worth it in every way.

i got this idea from the phil collins song "You'll be in my Heart" lol it's short, and very vague cause i know next to nothing about child birth, but i hope yall can enjoy :)

[elliewrites77]

Hello!

I'm back! after a VERY busy April and May, I finally have time to write again!

I apologize for the long pause, but as I mentioned before, I graduated college! And immediately after, I went on vacation with my family lol. Now, I am looking for jobs and such, but I will have a lot more time to write. So there will be updates!

For now though, I am gonna be posting a couple of things that I've had in the drafts (finished or almost), just to get more stuff out there. And below is a list of things to expect in the upcoming weeks!

Royal Advisor!Nanami x Queen Reader JJK x Alien Reader (teaser) Robin Hood!Suguru x reader (teaser) Uncle!Sukuna Part 8 JJK Smau Usopp soulmate fic

[elliewrites77]

yall🙃

what in the world am I supposed to do with this 😭😓

prob my fault for having voting open for so long, ngl. But i figured it was more considerate bc I know people have lives and stuff. Now i genuinely don't know what to do lmao

JJK x Alien!reader was in the lead for the most part I believe (i accidentally voted, but thankfully was able to see), then neck and neck with the Robin Hood!Suguru Geto one. But still.

I don't think it would be worth it to do another vote (?)

If yall have any ideas, or wanna comment which one you'd like to see more, idk, anything, let me know lol. As it stands though, I'm considering just choosing between JJK x Alien!reader or Robin Hood!Suguru Geto bc they were in the lead for a while as far as I could tell. Probability the latter bc i accidentally voted on the other one sooo

side note- genuinely surprised the Usopp one got as many votes as it did, but I am pretty happy w it :)

but anyway! Thank you guys genuinely for voting. I know the results are very unhelpful lol, but I do appreciate everyone actually taking the time to provide their input and letting me know what you guys want to see. I appreciate every single one of you <3

I hope you guys have a wonderful day :)

[elliewrites77]

WIP Poll

Hi!! These are some of the works I've been planning, mostly for JJK, but a one piece one is in there too. I have some written already for these options. Some are drabbles (?), some fics, and some are drabbles that will be fics in the future!

I know that most of my followers are here for my Uncle!Sukuna series (thank you sm btw!!), and that series is left out of the poll bc no matter what answers I get here, I intend to work on it as a priority as well, so either way, part 8 will be getting posted (hopefully) soon!

So please, let me know what yall would like to see!

These aren't all I have in the drafts nor the only ideas, trust me, but these are the one's I tried to be comfortable with putting up for show and have some already written :) so I hope these options are interesting enough to peak yalls attention.

*For the royal advisor! nanami, this poll is for a drabble, but that drabble will one day be a fic! *For the alien reader one, the love interest is undecided, but the JJK men and (some) women will be involved in the story.

I hope everyone has a lovely day! <333

These are all my own ideas. Do not steal/plagiarize or or take credit for my works.

[elliewrites77]

Are there gonna be any more parts of your uncle sukuna series?? No rush, just wondering! 🫶🏾

Hi, yes there will be more! I'm sorry for the wait, I know it's been over a week since part 7. I've been working on part 8 (and 9 tbh). I've just had trouble being motivated, and am going through some writers block. Im writing bit by bit, but on top of the little motivation, I've also just been busy.

I'm in my last month of college, and I graduate in early May, so I've been very busy with school stuff. That has been another reason I haven't been able to post in a minute.

So yes, there will absolutely be more of the Uncle Sukuna series! And there are a few other ideas I've had in the JJK fandom that I'd love to get out soon as well. It just might take some time for posts this month, but I promise that I haven't abandoned this series or anything.

thank you guys so so much for 300 followers btw!!! I hope you guys can be patient with me rn, and I can assure you that I'm trying my best to get more out for you guys <3

if anyone were interested, I could do something like a poll, just to show some of my works in progress? that way, you guys could tell me what you'd like to see the most, and I can prioritize it. idk if that's worth doing, but if anyone liked the sound of that, pls lmk!

I hope everyone has a lovely day!!!!

[elliewrites77]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ when I'm with you

street racer sukuna x fem!reader

streetracer!sukuna is arrogant and cocky for a reason. he knows he's the best and no one can compare to him when it comes to being the fastest.

streetracer!sukuna has had a few run ins with the police here and there for speeding ofc and reckless driving, but he has enough money to pay off the tickets. the police have gotten so many complaints about him that they are on a first-name basis with him, but sukuna has always managed to get out of trouble with them

streetracer!sukuna may seem like the biggest fuckboy but finds hooking up and relationships to be a waste of time. he doesn't know why he has a reputation of being a fuckboy when he hasn't been with a lot of girls. why would he spend his money on flowers and date nights when he can use it to buy parts for his car?

streetracer!sukuna drives 2 different cars - the car he often uses for racing is his custom-wrapped burgundy red supra mk5, modded to the gods. the other one is his daily car, a black gt4 that is his baby. both of his cars are unique and anyone knows that the dark red supra is his.

streetracer!sukuna is wealthy enough as it is, but with all he races he's won, he's able to provide himself without his family's money. his parents wanted him to take over as he's the oldest but refused to do so, feeling that his calling in life was not being in suits and meetings all day. his parents aren't happy with the career he chose but they support him by giving him a huge monthly allowance.

streetracer!sukuna met you for the first time at a gala he was forced to go to in place of his father. he was getting annoyed of the other guests asking when he'll be working with his father over and over again so he took off to an empty part of the building, hoping to relax before he goes back in again. sukuna loosens tie and opens the door that leads to the balcony, not expecting to see a lady already there. "oh sorry I didn't know someone was here already."

"oh no don't worry, I was just about to leave," you reassure him and smiled. sukuna sighs and walks over to the spot beside you, resting his arms on the top of the balcony railing. "you don't have to leave. did you come out for a breather too?"

you nodded, "yeah a little. it's my first time going to a gala and I wasn't expecting it to be so..."

"snobby? pretentious? all of the above?" he butts in, his interruption earning a laugh from you. "yeah just a little."

both of you kept quiet for a bit when sukuna speaks up to introduce himself and you reciprocate the action. he's silently glad that you don't know him, either through his family or as the reckless street racer. he ended up staying with you longer than expected but he wanted to continue getting to know so he asks for your number before heading back to the gala.

streetracer!sukuna usually spends his friday and saturday nights driving around when he's not racing. usually he cruises with gojo and geto, but sometimes sukuna prefers the silence of being by himself. he's used to it now though, often choosing to race with no passengers compared to the other racers.

streetracer!sukuna finds himself wanting your company after meeting you at the gala. with races taking place at night, sukuna likes that he has the daytime to meet with you. whether that was picking you up from work or taking you out to a breakfast date, sukuna is always wanting to spend time with you somehow.

streetracer!sukuna is uncharacteristically bashful when you ask him about racing and his cars. he usually loves talking about it and always brags about his cars whenever he gets the chance but when it came to you, he has a hard time. (it's because he's worried you'll think he's living a dangerous and irresponsible life and if it was anyone else he wouldn't care but you're the first person whose opinion he cares about). he makes sure to only tells you half-truths when you question him about racing - yes he goes fast (and has crashed into road barriers), yes the police have stopped him a couple times (he's been arrested a couple of times but is released the day after). he cares about how you perceive him so he tries to not inform you of the dangers he experiences with the career he's in.

streetracer!sukuna usually drives fast but when you're in the passenger seat, he is not going any more than 10 above the speed limit. he's a professional racer so he's used to driving at high speeds but he doesn't want to risk anything with you in the car. sometimes you'll ask him to do a pull which he reluctantly agrees to, but he doesn't even try to reach the red line. he knows his cars well but he thinks about the off-chance that something could go wrong.

streetracer!sukuna is elated that you don't judge him for what he does for a living. he knows that it's a non-traditional job and it can be unstable but for sukuna, it's a lucrative occupation. he asks you often to come with him during races with a large prize because he says you're his lucky charm, he actually just wants to show off. ever since you got together, he's earned more than enough for the both of you to live very comfortably.

streetracer!sukuna only lets you drive his car. word spread around that someone that's not sukuna was in the driver's seat of his supra AND his gt4, and even some of the guys texted sukuna to see if it was true. he asked you first if he can tell them that you guys are together, and immediately said yes when you let him. to confirm everyone's suspicions, sukuna posts on his instagram a photo of his cars side by side with you sitting down on the hood of the gt4 posing cutely with the caption "everything I love". it's the only picture that he has pinned on his profile (yess we love a king who shows off his girl)

streetracer!sukuna is the epitome of gentle giant to you. everyone knows him as the intimidating tall racer who has a resting bitch face and does not like talking to anyone, but he's such a giant softie when he's with you. when you're beside him, all of a sudden he's smiling and doesn't look like he wants to murder someone. other racers only come up to sukuna when you're with him because you force sukuna to be nice and actually talk to them (they're thankful for you).

streetracer!sukuna is 2 words - THE CLINGIEST! because he races at night and when he hasn't seen you for a long time (1 day), he'll come over to your place and sleep over. he doesn't care if he has to drive to the other side of the city to do so, he wants to see you now. he gets grumpy if he doesn't feel you in his arms when he wakes up. mans just wants to wake up being cuddled and who can blame him

streetracer!sukuna was insanely nervous when he met your parents. he wasn't worried when you met his because he knew that they would love you (spoiler alert they do), but his palms were sweating when you said your parents wanted to meet him. he knows that his appearance is not the most conventional with his pink hair and tattoos all over his body, especially his face. he wanted to make a good impression so he opted to went to his mom to get help for his outfit and how to impress your parents. his mom thank you after he left because she never thought she'd see the day her son son would willingly wear a shirt with a collar.

streetracer!sukuna contemplates if he should stop racing when he misjudged the distance of the car when he was trying to take over and got into a really bad crash. he recovered quickly and is fine now, but the image of you crying at his bedside wouldn't leave his head. he knows you want to be supportive but he notices how hesitant you get when he tells you he has a race. he would do anything for you, even if it that means giving up his dream so that you could have a peace of mind.

streetracer!sukuna loves you unapologetically. he's never met anyone so encouraging and so patient with him, and he would be the world's biggest idiot if he fumbles you. he doesn't care if anyone calls him a simp for prioritizing you first above all else, he loves you too much to care about being name called. he knows you deserve the world and does his best to give you so, treating and spoiling you with whatever you desire. he's never going to let you go, and he doesn't care what anyone thinks because he knows that you're his endgame.

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

I wanna make a smau for this but like idk if I should, what do you guys think? again, not proofread hehe

[elliewrites77]

roses bloom the prettiest in ruin

pairing – prime minister's son!gojo x modern day princess!reader

summary : as the princess of a fallen monarchy, you were raised to uphold tradition, even in a world where your family’s power is little more than ceremony. as the son of the prime minister, satoru gojo was raised to rule.

your families have always been at odds—yours clinging to the past, his shaping the future. but satoru has never cared for politics, not when it comes to you. from the moment he met you, he’s been impossible to ignore—too bold, too persistent, too certain that your story was never meant to end in polite distance.

but in a world where power dictates fate, some lines aren’t meant to be crossed.

satoru has never been one to follow the rules.

tags –> modern & royalty au, political intrigue, high society drama, forbidden love, slow burn but inevitable, gojo satoru is a menace but he’s your menace, power imbalance but he makes it so sexy, privilege and duty, crown and dagger, elopement but make it dramatic, longing stares in grand ballrooms, love like a loaded gun, he would burn the world for you, angsty but he's too freaky for the angst to actually angst

you were six years old when you first met him.

it was at a grand gala—one of those glittering, suffocating events where chandeliers dripped with light and the air smelled of imported champagne and expensive perfume. women in floor-length gowns whispered behind painted fans, their laughter soft and practiced, while men in tailored suits exchanged nods that meant more than words. your mother’s grip on your tiny hand was firm, guiding you through the maze of political smiles and calculating gazes. you were dressed in a satin gown the color of moonlight, your hair curled into delicate ringlets, a perfect little doll for the cameras. “posture.” your mother reminded, her voice a quiet warning against your ear, and you obediently lifted your chin. everything was rehearsed, every movement precise—but then you saw him.

a boy with hair like freshly fallen snow, sticking up in wild tufts as if he’d fought off every attempt to tame it. he stood apart from the other children, his tiny navy suit crisp but slightly disheveled, a stark contrast to his bored expression. a lollipop dangled lazily from his lips, his fingers tucked into his pockets like he had no interest in the stiff elegance of the evening. his eyes—impossibly blue, like the sky at its brightest—found yours, pinning you in place. you had been taught to be polite, to be charming, to be untouchable, but something about the way he looked at you made your heart skip. he tilted his head, considering you, and then grinned—wide and unapologetic, like he had just found something interesting in a room full of dull, gray figures.

and then, with all the reckless confidence of someone who had never been told no, he pulled the lollipop from his mouth and declared, “i like you! wanna get married?”

a hush fell over the room like a dropped veil, murmurs rising in its wake. your mother’s nails pressed into your palm, a silent warning, while prime minister gojo’s sharp gaze flicked toward his son with the weight of unspoken reprimand. but satoru only rocked back on his heels, unbothered by the sudden attention, his grin unwavering. your mind, young as it was, processed the absurdity of the moment—marriage? at six years old? but even then, you had been raised to know your worth, and so you gave him the sweetest, most well-practiced smile in your arsenal.

“silly,” you giggled, folding your hands in front of you like the perfect little princess you were trained to be. “princesses don’t marry commoners.”

for the first time, the boy’s expression shifted—not to disappointment, but to something else, something sharper, something amused. the grin stretching across his face didn’t falter; if anything, it widened, as if he had just been given a challenge. “then i guess i’ll just have to become a king.”

the murmurs that followed were no longer just of amusement. they carried something deeper, something weightier—speculation, curiosity, quiet calculations of what a union between the royal family and the prime minister’s bloodline could mean. your mother’s fingers tightened ever so slightly, enough to tell you that you had done something wrong, even if you didn’t quite understand what. but satoru, in all his childish arrogance, seemed entirely unbothered, as if the world would bend to his whims simply because he willed it to.

“a king?” you echoed, tilting your head in consideration. your tutors had taught you that kings were powerful, that they ruled with wisdom and strength, that they carried the weight of nations on their shoulders. but satoru didn’t look like a wise ruler—he looked like a mischievous prince, untamed and unyielding, someone who had never been denied a single thing in his life.

“mmhmm,” he hummed, hands on his hips, as if he could already picture himself wearing a crown. “and when i do, i’ll make you my queen.”

you only giggled, because at six years old, marriage was nothing more than a fairy tale, a distant dream wrapped in lace and golden crowns. besides, you knew—knew with the quiet certainty that only children possess—that your father would never allow it. still, something about the way he looked at you, with that unwavering confidence, sent a strange little flutter through your chest.

a palace attendant appeared at your side, quick and efficient, murmuring something about your father expecting you at his table. your mother’s sigh was nearly imperceptible as she turned you away from the scene, her fingers firm on your wrist. but even as you were led through the sea of glittering gowns and polished shoes, you could feel it—his gaze, lingering, unwavering, like a promise not yet spoken.

when you glanced back, he was still standing there, lollipop tucked back between his lips, watching you with an expression that made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t quite understand.

“i’ll come find you again, princess!” he called out, his voice brimming with the kind of certainty that didn’t allow for doubts.

and somehow, in that moment, you believed him.

true to his words, satoru gojo became a fixture in your world—loud, impossible, and utterly relentless.

satoru was always too much. too loud, too clever, too untouchable. he had that insufferable grin, the one that made you feel like he already knew how this story would end—like he had already seen you in white, standing beside him. from the moment he decided you were his, he followed you around like a stray cat who thought he owned the palace, when in truth, he only ever snuck his way in. the difference was that satoru wasn’t sneaking—he had the power to walk through the palace doors without consequence. his father, the prime minister, held the entire country in his palm, and satoru, his only son, carried himself like a prince, even without a crown.

“we should get married,” he told you every chance he got, as if it was inevitable. “i’d make a great king.”

“you’re no king, satoru.” you would scoff, adjusting the perfect bow at the back of your dress. “you’re a tyrant in the making.”

but he only ever laughed, because you never actually said no.

your fathers hated each other. the prime minister saw the royal family as nothing more than a ceremonial relic, a bloodline propped up by tradition with no real authority, while your father saw the gojo administration as a dictatorship in disguise, unchecked power wrapped in empty promises. the conflict between them was a cold war played behind closed doors, in councils and boardrooms where policy was made without your input. yet somehow, despite the quiet battle waged between them, you and satoru were always in the same rooms, always within reach of each other. whether it was diplomatic banquets, charity galas, or private functions where power was traded in hushed conversations, he was there. and oh, did he reach.

when you were eight, he stole your tiara during a diplomatic dinner and perched it atop his own head, flashing a smirk that made your cheeks burn. “look at me, i’m a king now.”

“give it back, satoru!” you huffed, arms crossed, lips pressed into a stubborn line.

“hmm… nah,” he hummed, tilting his head as if considering. then, with an impish glint in his eyes, he leaned forward and whispered, “but you can have it back if you give me a kiss.”

scandalized, you yanked the tiara off his head with a furious huff, your face burning as he cackled like a devil in silk.

when you were ten, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from the ballroom, dragging you through the empty halls until you burst onto the palace balcony. below, the city stretched endlessly, glittering against the night.

“you’re bored, aren’t you?” he murmured, voice softer than usual, those sky-bright eyes searching yours. “let’s run away.”

“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoffed, but you didn’t pull away.

instead, you let him hold your hand, let him be the one reckless thing in your carefully measured world.

when you were twelve, he found you curled beneath the oldest willow in the royal gardens, fists clenched in the fabric of your dress, trying to keep the sobs inside. another argument. another reminder that you would never be enough—not as a daughter, not as a princess, not as anything you were supposed to be. the sky was overcast, gray and heavy, the scent of rain thick in the air. you hadn’t heard his footsteps, hadn’t noticed him until he crouched in front of you, head tilting, gaze sharp and knowing.

satoru hated seeing you cry.

so, without a word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a lollipop, and unwrapped it with the ease of someone who did this often. “open,” he said, pressing the candy against your lips before you could argue, his tone light, teasing, but unyielding. the sugary scent hit you first—something cherry, something artificial, something that had no place in a world of gold-plated cutlery and imported delicacies. you hesitated, your pride warring with the quiet comfort he offered. but then, slowly, you parted your lips, and he pushed it onto your tongue, watching you like he was waiting for the weight in your chest to ease.

“sweet things always make you feel better.” his voice was softer this time, something careful beneath the teasing.

he was right. the taste melted against your tongue, sharp and cloying, and for the first time that day, the ache in your ribs loosened just a little. satoru grinned like he had just won something, bright and self-satisfied, always too pleased with himself. “see? tastes better when it’s from me, huh?”

you only nodded, small and quiet. he only laughed, the sound easy and unbothered, like the world hadn’t just collapsed around you.

in that moment, beneath a darkening sky, in a life that had never truly been yours, satoru became your first and only act of defiance. he became your escape. your rebellion. your one and only soft, sweet thing.

despite the tension in politics, despite the warnings and whispered disapproval, you and satoru always find each other.

your lessons are held in the same grand estate, halls lined with portraits of ancestors who once held the world in their hands. golden chandeliers hang heavy above you, casting a soft glow over the polished marble floors, the silence between lectures filled only by the ticking of antique clocks and the distant hum of the city beyond the palace gates. you see him in the brief moments between lessons, in the gaps between grand affairs, when the adults aren’t watching. but, of course, satoru never cares if they are. he walks into your space like he belongs there, like he has never once been told no in his life. and when he does, you pretend it doesn’t make the air in the room feel heavier.

“you’re such a fake,” he drawls one afternoon, lounging lazily in your study while you sit perfectly poised by the window. sunlight filters in behind you, casting you in a glow that makes you look untouchable, distant. “all that bowing and smiling—you don’t actually believe in any of that, do you?”

your fingers tighten over the silk of your skirts, nails pressing crescent moons into your palms. “it’s called duty, satoru. something you wouldn’t understand.”

he snorts, tipping his chair back on two legs, balancing with the ease of someone who never fears falling. “right. duty. you mean playing pretend.”

“i’m not playing pretend,” you snap, rising so suddenly that your chair scrapes against the floor, the sharp sound cutting through the still air.

but satoru only leans forward, elbow propped on the desk, chin in his palm, watching you with that infuriating, knowing look. “sure you are,” he says, like it’s fact. “you hate this. you hate them. but you smile and curtsy like a good little princess anyway.”

heat crawls up your spine, your breath catching in your throat. “what would you have me do? throw tantrums like you? break things until people listen?”

his smirk deepens. “at least i don’t lie about who i am.”

the words hit something raw, something you refuse to name. satoru has always been able to see too much, pick you apart with those impossibly blue eyes until you feel like nothing more than an open book in his hands. you hate that he can see through you so easily.

so you don’t answer. instead, you turn on your heel and storm out, the echo of your footsteps chasing you down the hall. when you reach your chambers, you throw the balcony doors shut behind you, and that night—for the first time in years—you leave them locked.

for a week, satoru does not show up.

no pebbles tapping against your window at midnight. no insufferable interruptions during your lessons. no infuriating, knowing glances across the dinner table when you’re forced to sit across from him.

at first, you tell yourself it’s a relief.

but the days stretch on, and the silence in your chambers grows unbearable. your eyes flick toward the balcony doors more times than you’re willing to admit, your ears straining for the sound of footsteps, of something—anything—that signals his presence. when you pass by the study, you hesitate just outside the door, waiting for a scoff, a teasing remark, anything to prove that he’s still there. but the room is empty, and all you have is the hollow weight of missing him.

when you finally unlock the balcony doors, the wind feels too cold against your skin, the vastness of the sky stretching too wide, too empty.

and then, at the next grand event, just when you begin to think that maybe he’s left you behind, that he had realized how asinine your friendship with him is, you feel it.

a gaze too familiar, too sharp, too knowing.

when you glance up, satoru is already watching you from across the ballroom, standing just beyond the golden glow of the chandeliers, half-shrouded in the dim candlelight. he is dressed in the sharp blues and silvers of his family’s colors, the embroidery on his suit catching the light, but his gaze is the brightest thing in the room. too familiar, too focused, too knowing—like he’s been waiting for you to notice him. the conversations around you dull, the clinking of crystal glasses and rustling of silk fading into something distant, inconsequential. because in a room full of dignitaries, of nobles and politicians vying for power, satoru looks at you like you’re the only one who matters. and it makes something tighten in your chest, something you refuse to name.

“your royal highness.” he greets smoothly, voice laced with amusement as he steps forward. the space between you is swallowed instantly, overtaken by his presence—too much, too overwhelming, like the weight of a storm pressing against your skin. he bows, just deep enough to be proper, but there is no real deference in the motion, no real submission in the way he tilts his head and looks at you through pale lashes. this is not a greeting; it’s a challenge.

“gojo.” your voice is even, perfectly poised, as distant as diplomacy demands. but he sees through it like he always does, like he always has, and you know this because his smirk deepens.

then, before you can stop him, he takes your hand—too bold, too improper, too much.

he lifts it to his lips, the movement deliberate, calculated, yet as effortless as breathing. your breath catches as his mouth brushes just above the lace of your glove, against the sliver of skin left exposed. his lips are warm, his breath soft against your wrist, but the effect is anything but gentle. it sears.

your pulse betrays you, a single, sharp beat against his touch.

his smirk spreads, slow and knowing. “you missed me, didn’t you?”

and the worst part—the part you loathe, the part that makes your throat tighten—is that you have no idea how to lie. not to him.

satoru gojo has always been insufferable.

he is a storm in human form—loud, reckless, impossible to ignore. but sometime between childhood games and midnight rendezvous, something shifts. the edges of him sharpen, shedding the remnants of boyhood, his limbs stretching into something longer, leaner, more dangerous. the mischief in his gaze is still there, but it is different now, laced with something you do not have the words for. something that makes your pulse stutter when he looks at you too long.

and yet, despite it all, he still finds you. always.

at thirteen, he corners you in the royal library, where the scent of parchment and ink lingers in the air. dust motes dance in the shafts of afternoon light, a quiet world away from the weight of courtly expectations. you are searching for an old genealogy record when fingers, long and deft, pluck the book from your hands with infuriating ease.

“you’re too stiff.” he murmurs, flipping the pages with little interest. “too dutiful. don’t you ever get tired of being perfect?”

“give it back, satoru.”

“make me.”

your patience snaps like a fraying thread. you lunge, reaching for the book, but he is already moving, slipping just out of reach, laughter curling in the silence. it becomes a chase, your breath quickening as he weaves between the towering shelves, always just a step ahead, always teasing. when you finally snatch it back, your heart is pounding, the heat of exertion warming your skin.

he is too close. the dim glow of lanterns catches in his eyes, his smirk lazy, triumphant.

“see?” he hums, voice smooth, teasing. “you’re more fun when you’re mad.”

at fourteen, he finds you on the palace rooftop.

it is past midnight, the city below pulsing with life, oblivious to the girl perched high above it—trapped in a golden cage lined with silk and duty. the wind tugs at your hair, whispering secrets you will never be free to follow. the stars scatter across the sky in cold indifference, the weight of history pressing against your ribs like an iron hand. up here, away from the watchful eyes of the court, you can almost pretend you are just a girl and not a symbol, not a piece on a chessboard carved long before you were born.

“you’re not supposed to be up here.” you murmur, your gaze fixed on the endless stretch of lights below, refusing to acknowledge the presence settling beside you.

“neither are you.” he counters, voice smooth as ever, careless as ever. he sits too close, shoulder pressing against yours, as if he belongs here, as if he always will.

his presence is warm in the cool night air, a stark contrast to the marble halls and empty courtesies you have known all your life. for a moment, neither of you speak. the wind rustles through the banners below, and the sounds of distant carriages echo faintly in the night.

“do you ever think about running away?” he muses, head tilting back, exposing the sharp angles of a jawline that is beginning to lose its boyish softness. his hair ruffles in the wind, a mess of white against the darkness.

“you’ve been talking about that since we were kids.” you sigh, fingers twisting in the fabric of your skirts.

“and you’ve been ignoring me since we were kids.” he points out, words laced with that familiar, infuriating amusement.

“maybe there’s a reason for that.”

he hums, entirely unbothered, as if he already knows the truth you won’t say aloud. “doesn’t change the fact that you never really leave, though.”

the words settle between you, quiet and heavy, pressing against the space where your heart beats a little too fast. you don’t respond because he’s right.

at fifteen, he crashes a diplomatic banquet, just to get a rise out of you.

he isn’t supposed to be here. technically, his father declined the invitation, sending his advisors in his place. but satoru gojo has never been one to follow the rules, especially when they tell him he can’t do something. so, of course, he waltzes into the ballroom as if he owns it, clad in midnight blue with a smirk that could start wars. the chandeliers cast a golden glow over the polished marble, music swelling in a practiced waltz, but the moment he steps in, the air shifts—people noticing, whispers beginning. his presence is an act of defiance, a quiet declaration that even the prime minister’s absence cannot erase the weight of his name.

you barely have time to react before he spots you, his grin widening like a cat who just found his favorite mouse. “your highness,” he drawls, stepping into your space as if he belongs there, as if you aren’t standing amongst foreign dignitaries who would love nothing more than to report this to your father. panic flares hot in your chest, but you refuse to let it show, only gripping his wrist and yanking him into the nearest shadowed alcove. he lets you, amusement dancing in his too-bright eyes, the scent of something expensive lingering on his skin. “what are you doing here?” you hiss, low and sharp, as distant voices hum just beyond the curtains.

“you missed me.” he answers, unbothered.

“i did not.”

“you totally did.”

you glare. he grins.

“besides,” he continues, leaning in, voice dropping to something low and private. “how could i miss the chance to see you all dressed up? you look…” his gaze flickers over you, slow, deliberate, appreciation flickering in those godforsaken, summer-sky eyes. “…stunning.”

your stomach flips, traitorous. you roll your eyes instead, fixing him with a pointed look, ignoring the heat that creeps up your neck. “if your father finds out—”

“who cares?” he shrugs, the picture of reckless ease, of untouchable confidence. “we’re just two childhood friends catching up, aren’t we?”

friends.

right.

but then, before you can snap back, he lifts your hand—bold, improper, scandalous—and bows his head, brushing his lips against the skin just above the lace of your glove. his breath ghosts warm against your wrist, lingering, deliberate, as if committing the shape of you to memory. a slow, teasing kiss, like he knows exactly what he’s doing, like he enjoys the way your pulse stutters beneath his mouth. you freeze, caught between outrage and something far more dangerous, something you refuse to name. his smirk deepens when he finally pulls away, watching you with eyes too sharp, too knowing.

“see?” he murmurs, amusement curling in his tone. “you don’t seem so bothered now.”

at sixteen, things shift again.

it happens during a fencing lesson, though neither of you are properly dressed for it. no heavy jackets, no masks—just wooden practice swords and the simmering tension that neither of you have the words for yet. the vast training hall is bathed in late afternoon light, golden streaks stretching across polished wooden floors, dust motes dancing in the air. you weren’t even supposed to spar today, but satoru had grabbed a sword off the rack, tossed you another, and grinned like he already knew how this would end. where you are disciplined, he is wild; where you are precise, he is unpredictable. he circles you now, blade tapping lazily against his shoulder, eyes bright with something electric.

“come on, princess,” he drawls, voice laced with challenge. “show me what all those lessons are worth.”

you do. you lunge, and he parries; you strike, and he meets you—wooden swords colliding in a flurry of sharp movements and breathless taunts. your footwork is flawless, your technique impeccable, but satoru is fast, too fast, slipping through your defenses like water through cupped hands. then, in a blink, he disarms you—sends your practice sword clattering across the floor. before you can react, he moves, pushing you back until your spine meets the wooden wall, his weight pressing just enough to keep you there. the air shifts, suddenly charged, his breath warm against your cheek, the scent of polished wood and something distinctly him curling in your lungs.

“yield.” he murmurs, voice thick with something unreadable.

you should push him away. should remind him of propriety, of duty, of the countless rules you are bound to. but you don’t—because his gaze is locked onto yours, and you can’t seem to look away. your heart hammers, pulse drumming loud in your ears, and for the first time, you realize how much taller he has gotten, how sharp the lines of his face have become. there’s something dark in his smirk now, something dangerous beneath the teasing edge. something you don’t have a name for yet.

“you know,” he murmurs, tilting his head, the dim glow of the lanterns casting sharp shadows across the planes of his face, “one day, they’re going to try to take you from me.”

your breath catches, fingers curling against the fabric of your sleeve. there is no mockery in his tone this time, no teasing edge to soften the words. just quiet, unwavering certainty, as if he has already seen the war they will wage over you, as if the battle lines have already been drawn. something cold slithers down your spine, something you don’t have a name for, because this—this is not the boy who used to steal your tiaras and drag you onto palace rooftops. this is someone else entirely, someone sharp-edged and merciless, someone who speaks as though he has already decided the outcome. someone you should fear.

“who?”

“your father. my father. the entire world.”

his voice is low, even, but the weight of it presses against you, heavier than the steel of his blade had been moments before. because satoru gojo has never been the kind of person who loses—not fights, not games, not people. and you know, with a sudden, sinking certainty, that he does not intend to start with you. his gaze flickers down, where your pulse jumps at your wrist, where the lace of your glove fails to hide the way your blood sings beneath your skin. he lifts your hand with ease, brings it to his lips, and presses another kiss to the exact same spot he always does—slow, deliberate, reverent. his lips linger just long enough for heat to unfurl in your stomach, for something traitorous to bloom in your chest.

“satoru—”

“they can try.” he interrupts, voice dropping lower, something wolfish curling at the edges of his grin. his breath ghosts over your skin, his hold unrelenting. “but i don’t share.”

then, as if nothing happened, he releases you. steps back. extends his hand, as if this is still the same fencing match, the same childhood game, as if he has not just shifted the very ground beneath your feet.

you don’t take it.

because suddenly, you are afraid. not of him, but of what you might become if you do.

something changed in satoru after that conversation and it must've had something to do with him suddenly messaging you to meet him in the middle of the night because you aren’t supposed to be here.

the castle is asleep, save for the flickering lanterns lining the outer walls, their glow barely touching the darkness beyond the royal gates. but there, just past the threshold of where he shouldn’t be, satoru waits—leaning against a stone pillar like he owns the place, bathed in moonlight and audacity. he sees you before you even step past the archway, his smirk unfurling slow and knowing, like he expected you all along.

“satoru,” you hiss, breathless with fury, your voice trembling as you glance over your shoulder, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “if anyone sees you—” your words falter, your mind racing with the consequences, the scandal, the way your father’s face would darken if he caught you like this. but satoru doesn’t seem to care. he never does.

“then let them watch,” he says, his voice pure sin, a slow, teasing drawl that sinks beneath your skin, twisting deep in your stomach. he’s taller now, broader, his beauty sharper, more lethal—something sculpted for war, not courtly dances. and yet, the danger in him doesn’t make you step back. instead, it pulls you in, like a moth to a flame, even as your instincts scream at you to run. his presence is overwhelming, his gaze piercing, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering, about to fall.

he doesn’t wait for permission. instead, he tugs you forward with infuriating ease, his hands rough yet deliberate, your body colliding with his before you can even think to resist. your fingers curl instinctively into the delicate fabric of your nightgown, clutching at it like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. his touch is heat against silk, against skin, the space between you vanishing before you can catch your breath. you can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours, the way his heartbeat matches the frantic rhythm of your own.

and then he kisses you.

it is nothing like the carefully instructed, polite kisses you’ve been warned to expect. there is no hesitation, no gentleness—only hunger, only greed, his lips pressing, parting, demanding like he has spent years waiting for this. and he has. your first kiss is not sweet or tender; it’s a wildfire, consuming everything in its path, leaving you breathless and dizzy. his hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer, and you can’t help but melt into him, your body betraying your mind as you lean into the heat of his touch.

you should push him away. you should remind him of duty, of war, of the blood-soaked line that has long divided your families. but you don’t. instead, you let him press you against the cold stone wall, the chill seeping through your gown as his mouth abandons yours, trailing lower—along your jaw, down the column of your throat. his breath is warm, his lips softer than they should be, the contrast making you shudder. when he reaches the spot wrist he had been lavishing attention since forever, he bites, slow and deliberate, his teeth sinking in just enough to make your breath hitch.

he feels it, hears it—your sharp inhale, your pulse rushing wildly beneath his lips, your fingers clenching in his jacket—and he laughs, low and pleased, his tongue soothing the mark he leaves behind. “you are so cute, your highness,” he murmurs against your skin, the words a silken promise, a loaded threat. “i might just ruin you myself before they could.” his voice is a whisper, a caress, and it sends a shiver down your spine, your mind racing with the implications of his words. but even as your thoughts scream at you to stop, your body betrays you, leaning into him, craving more of the chaos he brings.

before you turn seventeen, your fathers were at war.

not with swords, not with soldiers, but with power plays disguised as diplomacy, with whispered threats exchanged in the halls of government buildings. your father, the last vestige of a monarchy that no longer ruled, still held influence, still had loyalists willing to fight for the old ways. and satoru’s father, the prime minister, was the embodiment of the new world—modern, efficient, ruthless.

it was a battle for control, for legacy, for the future of a nation that no longer belonged to kings. but behind the headlines, behind the political chess match, there is this scandalous little thing going on between their heirs.

satoru is breathless against your lips, his hands pressing you against the cold marble walls of a grand ballroom. the air around you was thick with the scent of champagne and the faint sweetness of his cologne, mingling with the sharp chill of the stone at your back. hidden behind a velvet curtain, just out of sight, just out of reach, the muffled sounds of the gala outside felt like a distant dream. his fingers traced the curve of your waist, leaving trails of fire even through the layers of your dress, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours.

the dim light filtering through the curtain cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the glint of mischief in his summer sky eyes. you were trapped, not by his hands, but by the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

“we shouldn’t be doing this.” you whispered, your voice trembling as much as your hands, but your fingers curled into his collar, betraying you. the fabric was soft under your touch, but the heat of his skin beneath it was enough to make your head spin.

satoru's breath hitched, a low, almost imperceptible sound that sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and unrelenting. the words were meant to be a protest, a reminder of the rules, the consequences, but they came out weak, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. you knew you should pull away, should step back into the light where everything was safe and predictable, but the way he leaned into you, his forehead resting against yours, made it impossible to move.

“then tell me to stop,” satoru murmured, his lips ghosting over your jaw, his voice an invitation and a taunt all at once. his hands slid up your arms, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of you, and you could feel the faint tremor in his touch. “but you won’t, will you?” his words were soft, almost a whisper, but they carried the weight of certainty, of years of knowing you better than you knew yourself.

and god, he was right. you couldn’t tell him to stop, not when his breath was warm against your skin, not when his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. the world outside the curtain didn’t exist anymore—it was just you and him, and the dangerous, exhilarating thing growing between you.

the older satoru got, the more he loved pushing you, breaking down every fragile, innocent piece of you until you were something else—something that belonged to him.

at seventeen, he kissed you in secret corridors, in the backseats of limousines, in his father’s estate where you were absolutely not supposed to be. each touch, each whispered word, was a challenge, a game he was determined to win. he thrived on the thrill of it, on the way your breath caught when he leaned in too close, on the way your eyes darted around nervously, always aware of the risk.

but no matter how many times you told yourself it was wrong, no matter how many times you tried to pull away, he always found a way to draw you back in. and deep down, you knew you didn’t want to resist.

“if they catch us, we’re finished,” you hissed, clutching at his wrist as he dragged you down a private hallway, past security cameras he had long since learned how to avoid.

your heels clicked softly against the polished floor, the sound echoing in the empty space, but his steps were silent, confident, as though he owned every inch of the estate. his grip on your hand was firm, unyielding, and you could feel the heat of his skin even through the fabric of your glove. the hallway was dimly lit, the only light coming from the moon streaming through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the walls. you could hear the faint hum of the gala in the distance, a reminder of how far you’d strayed from the safety of the crowd, but satoru didn’t seem to care. he only smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he glanced back at you.

“then don’t let them catch us.” he said, his voice low and teasing, as though the idea of getting caught was just another part of the game. he stopped suddenly, pulling you into a secluded alcove, his hands sliding up your arms to rest on your shoulders. the space was small, intimate, and you could feel the heat of his body even through the layers of your dress.

he traced the edge of your gloves with his fingers before slipping them off entirely, his touch light but deliberate, and you shivered as his lips brushed against your bare wrists. “you still taste sweet,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and sending a jolt of electricity through you. “but i want more.” his voice was a whisper, a promise, and when you gasped, his smile turned sharp, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you.

at eighteen, the arguments start.

they are sharp-edged things, honed by frustration, by fear, by the unbearable weight of wanting something neither of you are supposed to have. they happen in hushed whispers behind closed doors, in stolen moments between political meetings, in the space between your duty and his defiance.

the fight happens in the royal gardens, beneath the cold glow of lantern light. the evening air is thick with the scent of jasmine, too sweet, too cloying, pressing in around you like a reminder that this—this moment, this thing between you and him—should not exist. satoru stands before you, white-haired and furious, the shadows casting sharp lines across his face.

“you’re playing pretend.” he snaps, voice low and angry, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“and you’re reckless,” you bite back, every word laced with frustration, with fear. “our families—”

“our families don’t get to decide what i want.” his voice cuts through the night like a blade.

“it’s not that simple, satoru.”

“it is.” he steps closer, unrelenting. “you just don’t want to admit it.”

and maybe he’s right. because no matter how many times you tell yourself this has to end, no matter how hard you try to keep your distance, you always end up in his arms.

one night, he climbs the palace walls just to see you, tapping against your balcony door like a fairytale gone wrong. moonlight pools over him, silvering the edges of his hair, making him look almost otherworldly. he isn’t supposed to be here, in your world, in your life—but he is, always, always finding his way back to you.

“you're insane.” you whisper, glancing toward the locked door of your chambers, every nerve alight with the possibility of being caught despite having done this dance with him a lot of times.

“so stop me.” he challenges, standing too close, breath warm against your skin, eyes dark with something you can’t name.

but you never do.

at nineteen, it becomes something worse—something all-consuming.

it happens in the dead of night, far from the glittering ballrooms and suffocating eyes of court, in a forgotten wing of the palace where the candlelight flickers against aged stone. you shouldn't be here, but then again, neither should he. yet, satoru stands before you, disheveled from the wind, hair messier than usual, his cravat undone like he had run through the city just to reach you. there is something feverish in his expression, something that crackles in the air between you, thick as a storm about to break.

"marry me.” he says, voice hoarse, desperate, the words landing between you like a live wire.

you laugh, light and brittle, because surely this is one of his reckless games, another push to see how far he can take you before you break. “don’t be ridiculous.”

but he doesn’t smile. doesn’t tease.

his gaze darkens, something furious and unrelenting burning behind those godforsaken, summer-sky eyes.

"i’m serious," he says, fingers tightening around your wrist, thumb pressing against the flutter of your pulse. "we could disappear. right now. no titles, no families. just us."

your breath hitches, a treacherous, shaky thing. because the truth is—you want to say yes. want to follow him wherever he leads, want to run until your name is just an echo, until you are nothing but his and he is nothing but yours.

but you can’t.

and satoru gojo is not the type to be denied.

at twenty, it becomes undeniable—you and satoru were never meant to be together.

your fathers made sure of that. your engagement to a foreign prince was inked onto paper, sealed with signatures and handshakes, a carefully calculated move to secure the monarchy’s fragile standing. meanwhile, satoru was no longer just the prime minister’s son; he was the rising sun of the nation, the man poised to inherit an empire built on power, not love.

but neither of you had ever been good at listening.

the breaking point came on the night of your engagement announcement.

the ballroom was suffocating beneath the weight of gold and glass, chandeliers spilling warm light over a sea of carefully curated guests. you stood beside your fiancé—a stranger who held your hand like a possession, like a duty—accepting congratulations with a flawless smile, a mask you had worn since childhood.

and then you felt it.

a gaze that burned hotter than the lights above, pulling at the frayed edges of your resolve.

satoru stood at the far end of the room, silent, still. his presence was a fault line beneath the glittering facade of the ballroom, a quiet promise that everything was about to break. the golden glow of the chandeliers softened nothing—the sharp lines of his face, the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled at his sides as if holding himself back. his expression was unreadable, carved from something colder than you’d ever seen, his usual mirth stripped away, leaving only something raw, something furious beneath the surface. and for the first time in your life, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

that terrified you.

you turned away, the weight of his stare pressing against your spine as you moved, each step measured, careful. past the marble pillars, through the gilded archways, down the quiet corridors where the walls didn’t have ears. your breaths came too shallow, your pulse a frantic drumbeat in your throat, your hands trembling at your sides. the mask was slipping—cracking at the edges—and you just needed a moment. a moment away from the expectations, the duty, the suffocating weight of a future you never wanted.

but the second you stepped onto the darkened terrace, a hand closed around your wrist and yanked you into the shadows.

“satoru—!”

your gasp barely left your lips before your back hit the cold stone wall, the breath knocked from your lungs. the scent of him wrapped around you—something clean, something sharp, something familiar—and it made you dizzy. moonlight cut through the darkness, slashing across his face, catching the bright, seething blue of his eyes. his grip was firm, almost trembling, fingers pressing into your skin as if convincing himself you were real.

“tell me you don’t love me.”

his voice was low, ragged, the edges fraying with something desperate, something reckless.

you swallowed, your throat dry, your heart a wild thing caged in your ribs. you wanted to say it—to end this before it destroyed you both. but satoru was too close, his breath warm against your cheek, his presence a force of gravity you had never been able to escape.

“tell me,” he repeated, his voice an ache, a command, a plea. “and i’ll let you go.”

you couldn’t.

because you did love him—fiercely, recklessly, in a way that made it impossible to breathe. it wasn’t something delicate or gentle, not something you could tuck away behind locked doors and polite smiles. it was violent, all-consuming, a love that sank its teeth into you and refused to let go. a love that could ruin you, that already had.

his grip tightened, fingers pressing into the delicate bones of your wrist, and you knew he felt the way your pulse stuttered beneath his touch. “run away with me,” he whispered, voice low, raw, a plea wrapped in command. “leave all of this behind.”

for a moment, the world shrank to nothing but him—the way his breath ghosted over your lips, the sharp edge of desperation in his voice, the promise in the way he held you like you were something he would never surrender. like he would burn the world down before letting you go.

it was insanity. you were royalty. he was power itself. the country would burn for it.

but that night, when the palace fell silent and the world believed you were safely asleep in your chambers, you slipped out of bed and pressed your palm against the ornate mirror.

it clicked.

the passage behind it was cold, narrow, the air thick with dust and secrets. it had been there for centuries—an escape route once used by queens in times of war. but to you, it had always been his passage.

satoru had discovered it as a boy, slipping in and out of the palace long before he was supposed to. he had shown it to you when you were twelve, smirking as he dragged you through the hidden tunnels, laughing about how he could steal you away anytime he wanted.

now, years later, you were the one stealing yourself away.

you moved quickly, heart pounding, hands trembling as you pushed open the passage’s final door—out into the night, into the city that had never truly belonged to you. the air was crisp, thick with the scent of rain on pavement, the distant hum of traffic reminding you how far you were from the life you were supposed to be living. you had never been alone here, not really—not without guards, not without duty shackled to your wrists like golden cuffs. but tonight, the city stretched before you, dark and endless, a freedom you had never known how to grasp. and in that vast, unfamiliar quiet, he was waiting.

not at the gates, not where the guards stood watch. no, satoru gojo was leaning against the hood of a brand-new, custom-designed car, sleek and untraceable, its glossy frame catching the glow of the streetlights. his suit jacket was unbuttoned, tie loose around his collar, a portrait of effortless rebellion wrapped in money and recklessness. but it wasn’t the car or his defiant stance that made your breath hitch. it was where he was waiting. the old, abandoned chapel—the one the two of you had found as children, where you had once played pretend, weaving stories of running away, of rewriting fate, before you were old enough to understand how impossible that was. except now, as his sharp gaze found yours across the empty street, you realized he had never stopped believing in it.

“satoru.” you whispered, stepping closer, the word barely more than breath.

he didn’t speak. instead, he reached into his pocket, fingers curling around something small, something that had been weighing him down the entire night. for a moment, he only stared at it, thumb brushing over the edges, hesitant, as if still debating whether to do this—whether to let himself want this. then, with a quiet breath, he flipped open the velvet box, revealing what lay inside.

“marry me.”

your breath caught.

it wasn’t a question. he didn’t kneel, didn’t offer flowery words or grand declarations. he just stood there, holding it out, the blue diamond gleaming in the low light—impossible, priceless, his. he looked at it for another moment, then back at you, as if deciding, as if still waiting for some part of him to pull back.

but he never did.

you stared at him, stunned, breathless, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest like an iron hand. the world outside the chapel was still, the distant hum of the city muffled by the pounding in your ears. satoru stood before you, bathed in silver moonlight, sharp edges and reckless intent carved into his very being. his fingers were curled so tightly around the velvet box that his knuckles turned white, but his smirk—god, that damn smirk—never wavered. it was defiant, cocky, but underneath it, something deeper flickered in the ice of his eyes, something unspoken, something raw. he was waiting for you to understand, to accept that there was no going back after this.

"you said it yourself, didn’t you?” his voice was low, smooth, a blade sharpened with amusement and something darker. his lips curled, something dangerous in the way he looked at you, something wolfish—predatory in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. but his fingers, still gripping the box, betrayed him, tension coiling beneath the surface of his casual defiance. "princesses don’t marry commoners." he let the words settle between you, let them hang in the charged air like an accusation, like a challenge. then he took a step closer, slow and deliberate, gaze never leaving yours.

“so i guess it’s a good thing i’ve never been one.”

your heart slammed against your ribs, a wild, dizzying rhythm that sent heat rushing to your skin. the space between you shrank, the night folding in around the two of you, suffocating in its intensity. you had seen him serious before—calculating, determined, ruthless—but this was different. this was satoru stripped bare of pretense, of politics, of the role he had been born to play. this was him, standing in front of you, asking you to choose him, to burn down everything for him. the realization sent a sharp ache through your chest, twisting something deep inside you.

“you’re insane.” you whispered, but the words lacked conviction, your voice betraying the tremor beneath your carefully constructed walls.

his grin widened, wicked, knowing, a spark of satisfaction lighting up his too-bright eyes. “considering i’m about to whisk away the dearest princess of this country like a big bad wolf," he murmured, tilting his head, watching you through thick lashes, “i guess i am, but you'd let me anyway, won't you?”

he wasn’t wrong.

your fingers tightened around his, around the ring, around the impossible weight of what you were about to do. you didn’t even need to say yes—he already knew. the moment you let him slip that ring onto your finger, something shifted, something irreversible. satoru laughed, breathless, triumphant, his lips brushing against your knuckles, against the cold metal now resting against your skin like a brand. you felt it then—the silent vow, the inevitable destruction, the promise of a future you weren’t meant to have but would take anyway.

“see?” he murmured, lips ghosting just above the lace of your glove, his breath warm against your wrist. “fits perfectly.”

and then he drove—fast, reckless, free.

and you let him, because for the first time in your life, you wanted to be.

a/n : wrote this pretty fast when i was just yapping about it last night because this is what satoru brainrot & ovulation does to an idiot. if you see some errors please do tell & i apologize in advance, i stayed up all night writing this & now i finally get to sleep zzzz

also pls do tell if you are interested in the aftermath, i already have a rough plan on how it will go, just whole domesticity and fluffy stuff (as if he didn't corrupt you into eloping with him but let's not talk about that)

[elliewrites77]

Sweet and Sour Part 2

Satoru Gojo x Baker!female reader SMAU here's a part 2 to my Sweet and Sour SMAU. let me know what you think, and i hope everyone has a great day <33 barely proofread masterlist

[elliewrites77]

You're a cat... That's about it.

Next ->

"Meow."

"You again."

Sukuna tsked, glaring at you from his spot at the engawa. One hand holding a scroll, another a skewer of meat prepared by Uraume.

Your nose twitched and you rolled to your back, looking at him cutely.

"What's this? Learned a new trick?"

"Mraow." Your meow mixing with your purr as you rolled around on the ground before looking back at him. Your tail swishing back and forth.

The King of Curses looked amused. "Hmph, fine. Since you're so hell bent on trying to amuse me, here." He tossed a piece of meat at you.

He laughed at how you scrambled to your feet to catch the piece. "Pathetic."

And then he went back to reading his scroll.

Few minutes later, Sukuna felt a tiny weight on his lap.

He raised his eyebrow as you settled yourself on his lap, tucking your paws and legs in. You looked up at him.

"Mraow!!" You said, purring loudly.

And then you started grooming yourself as if you weren't on the lap of the most dangerous man in existence.

Sukuna laughed before grinning. "Oh, what a bold, little thing you are."

He lifted his lower hand and scratched behind your ear, you leaned into his touch. "If you were a human, you wouldn't even dare to breathe in front of me."

"Mrrpp..." You curled into a ball and closed your eyes, ready to go to sleep. He clicked his tongue and frowned.

"Hey, who gave you permission to fall asleep?"

But you didn't budge, snuggling deeper into his lap. Your breathing evening out.

Sukuna stared at you, his expression neutral before he let out a "Hmph" and went back to reading his scroll. His large hand still absentmindedly scratching your ear.

A few hours later, Uraume came by.

"Master Su—" They paused, completely caught off guard by you sprawled on his lap before they quickly composed themselves.

"Master Sukuna, dinner is ready."

"Mm."

Sukuna was about to get up then remembered you, the little inconvenience. He frowned at you for a good whole minute. But then he looked up in thought, scratching the back of his neck. And then finally he looked at Uraume.

"Uraume."

"Yes, Master Sukuna?"

"Just bring my dinner here."

"... As you wish."

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