#gojo sins

[kamiversee]

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

“You’re no princess, just a slut with a crown.”

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin. 

❀ ~ Need To Know > Part of this story was originally written by me on Wattpad, under a different title & with different characters. I no longer write or upload over there so I have recycled that plot entirely.

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. choso x f!reader. ino x f!reader. nanami x f!reader. shiu x f!reader. yuki x f!reader. shoko x f!reader. higuruma x f!reader. utahime x f!reader. ijichi x f!reader. kusakabe  x f!reader. kashimo x f!reader. uraume x f!reader. yaga x f!reader. (slight) naoya x f!reader.

❀ ~ Content > princess!reader, explicit nsfw scenes, possessive men & women, bisexuality, angst, fluff, royal non-curse au, historical setting, inaccurate depictions & occurrences of history (please rmb this is just a fanfic lol), reverse harem, jealousy, heavy yearning, mutual pining on some ends, toxicity, lengthy chapters, debauchery, every troupe you can imagine ngl--ik you see tht list of pairings, heavy porn w decent plot, & above all else, 18+ scenes.

Segment I.

| Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 5 | Chpt 6 |

|| @kamiversee || ff status: ongoing || Hope you enjoy! <3 ||

[sleepymothafterhours]

Thinking about arguing with Gojo

Arguing with Gojo in the middle of fucking him cus he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut to save his life, he’s literally got a mouthful of your boob in his mouth while still babbling about whatever he was right wrong about. Of course your only solution is to bounce on his cock faster (because let’s be real he makes you do all the work when he’s mad) and make him literally choke on his words because that little bit more was enough to make him come, pathetically so as he whines and whimpers and bites at your skin as you ride him to oblivion the argument completely forgotten the minute he has that pussydrunk look on his face.

Gojo who by the time you get him to come a second, third…fourth? time he’s babbling little apologies because he’s finally realizing you were right the whole time.

Who said that though????

Geto Vers Sukuna Vers Toji Vers

[improbable-vault]

Hearing a whispered “I know, I’ve got you” from him after you let out a startled gasp

While he bottoms up inside you <3

[or0ch1maru]

♡︎EAT THIS♡︎

Men who are ABSOLUTE munchers. Their hands gripping your hips to pin you in place, keeping you from running. Licking a long strip through your folds before sucking your clit into their mouth. Eating you like a starved man. Only to let out a growl into your cunt when they feel your hands tangle and pull at their hair. Your thighs pressing down around their head as you cum, hearing a chuckle from between your legs as you squirt all over their face. Just for your man to still when he feels you buck and grind against his face, his nose hitting your clit repeatedly before shoving his fingers into you. Eliciting a pretty little moan from your lips.

TOJI, KENPACHI, SIR CROCODILE, KID, GRIMMJOW, Suguru, Satoru, Shunsui, HIDAN, KAKUZU, KISAME, Obito, Pain, ZETSU, Law, Mihawk, BAN

[improbable-outset]

Sucking the air through his teeth with a hiss the moment he feels your fleshy walls clench around his tip

[saintodo]

thots: vampire gojo + mouth inspection

♡ note: i wanna be weird w him :/

♡ word count: .5k

♡ tags: gender neutral reader, blood, vampire/human relationship, mouth inspection, suggestive

vampire gojo would happily allow you to inspect his mouth. he is quick to give into your demands, more amused than anything by the strange request. he’s willing to do most anything for his favorite human. gojo likes how you’re bold, so utterly unafraid of him even though he could easily overpower you if he desired to.

he’s pliant as he allows you to wrap one of your hands around the length of his neck- your palm brushing against the faded scars of his sire’s bite, sending a pleasant thrum through his system- and tilt his head back to your liking. gojo playfully opens his mouth, baring his teeth in a smile, which only earns him an eye roll from you. with two of your fingers around the curve of his jaw, you gently urge gojo to open his mouth wider for you, slackening his jaw. he obliges.

your movements are exploratory and your expression is curious as you run the tips of your fingers along the edges of his teeth. you're gentle, careful as you treat gojo with a level of care that he is unused to. it makes gojo want to capitalize all of you. he can easily admit that he's become greedy when it comes to you.

by the time you've reached his fangs, you've grown more confident and comfortable, your movements now fluid as you explore the inside of gojo's mouth. your eyes glint with something that gojo can't place as you press the pad of your pointer finger against the point of his canines, pressing and pressing until the skin breaks. a drop of blood lands on gojo’s tongue, and his mouth instanteously pools with saliva at the taste of your blood. gojo is no stranger to feeding on humans, but none of their blood has tasted quite as sweet or as addictive as yours.

gojo tries to swallow down the taste, but you prevent him from doing so. you push your thumb down on the flat of his tongue, not enough to cause his discomfort but enough for him to feel the pressure of it. he makes a sound in the back of his throat, high and whiny that you've gotten in the way of him tasting you.

you're merciful, lifting your thumb off of his tongue soon enough. gojo greedily swallows, unashamedly moaning at the taste of you. he can feel himself getting hard, his pants tightening to an almost uncomfortable degree in his pants. his throat bobs as you move your thumb to the plush of his lower lip, smearing a mix of his saliva and your blood against it.

for the first time since you started your inspection, you meet gojo’s eyes. your pupils are blown out, your irises nothing but a small ring of color. hunger and desire swirls in your gaze.

gojo is confident he looks the same.

with his hands around your waist, he eagerly tugs you closer until you're seated in his lap. you brace yourself, your hands flying to gojo's chest to steady yourself. through the material of his shirt, he can feel the stickiness of his saliva coating your fingers. your hips are flush with his own, and he knows you can feel his prominent arousal when you shift in his lap. gojo wraps a hand around your wrist, prompting you to push your fingers back into his mouth. you hiss when gojo nips at your fingertips, drawing the slightest amount of blood from you. he smiles around your fingers, his fangs bared.

now that he's gotten a taste of you, gojo wants more.

[corporalswhore]

— souvenir (satoru gojo)

pairing: satoru gojo x student!reader

summary: satoru realizes that he doesn’t see you as his little girl anymore. cue moral dilemma.

warnings: teacher/student relationship. dark content. major age gap. reader is legal. nsfw! fingering. mentions of corruption, morally bad satoru gojo but that’s my brand! also, this is unedited, so enjoy this crap <3

satoru gojo knows better.

he is grown — he knows the difference between love and lust. but, sometimes he forgets that they’re two sides of the same coin; that, in an instant, things can change — the coin can flip, whether he likes it or not.

and he knows he didn’t flip this particular token — your coin, he wouldn’t dare. no, you’re his little girl; your piece will forever lay upright on the love side, never budging — he reminds himself.

so, why oh why, is he currently feeling a burning in his stomach, a craving for you — a desire to feel your skin beneath his?

you’re practically his daughter. he raised you from young. fathered you into the woman you are today.

it’s disgusting.

the elders would tell him love is the only pure thing we have, the closest thing to god — and that lust is a mortal sin, the closest thing to the devil.

and he’s starting to realize he is the embodiment of sin.

the moment you both locked eyes, it became a problem — as if there was magic in every silent word from your eyes — you became his downfall. and if the moon were to intervene right now, he’d tell all of satoru’s dirty secrets — that he wants to drop the veil of decency, cross lines with you — how he believes that he must destroy himself in you.

and maybe your coin had been flipped long ago — tossed aside and tucked away deep in his fantasies without him realizing.

poor judgement on his behalf, because he could’ve sworn he felt some sort of fatherly instinct when yuuji had gripped your waist to pull you closer into his chest — but now the dots are connecting.

fuck fatherly instinct, his grip on his drink didn’t tighten because of that — it tightened because it should’ve been him doing that — pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

it was never protective, but possessive.

and fuck, satoru shouldn’t be getting so worked up about this. you’re his student. 

his kid.

but what good would reminding him of mere titles do? he’s far too gone, beyond making excuses for his behavior — he’s already unintentionally surrendered himself to you. if he already has his seat reserved in hell, why fight it?

and that’s why his gaze never leaves you the entire night.

not when your feet begin to hurt after being on the dance floor for too long, not when it hits 3am and you’re still giggling with your friends — fingers always clasped around the stem of a glass. and definitely not when your eyes fall on him, all twinkly. giddiness laced in the lopsided smile you shoot him.

and satoru’s heart flutters at the innocence of it all, legs already moving to you. he thinks, what good would making excuses do for him now? nothing. the coin has already been upended, and there’s no backing down now, no changing — no matter how bad he wishes yours had remained untouched.

but instinct, god. at the end of the day, he is just a man — unfortunately. and men should never be trusted around pretty little things like you.

(satoru had always reminded himself of that when he thought of himself as a father, and you his daughter — it was a silent warning in his head when he saw men around you, instantly redirecting you away from them.)

and now, he’s the monster.

because there’s no one else here to protect you, it was only him — and now, he’s playing the role of the villain.

“come on, let me carry you back to your room.” he offers softly, egyptian blue swimming in his eyes as he studies you. and it’s the kind of sight you’ve never had the luxury of witnessing without him. goosebumps rise beneath the weight of his gaze.

you nod, a bit too enthusiastically — alcohol still prominent in your veins.

and that’s your first mistake.

you think he’s being kind, caring — a good caretaker. but you couldn’t be farther from the truth, because satoru gojo has a glint in his eye, something hidden in those irises that screams he is not to be trusted.

though, make no mistake — it wasn’t always there. he has always been pure in his interactions with you. too pure. too loving. too fatherly.

so who can blame you for the way your hand loops through his arm so safely, or the way you let him place his palm on your hip, so protectively (it’s possessive), as he guides you into the lobby. 

“you good, princess?” he whispers into your ear as you both wait for the elevator, and his fingers unintentionally dig deeper into your waist when he hears you hum — a flushed little mhm.

you’re so not good. not with the way you feel him eyeing you, not with his body heat radiating onto you in waves. you’re pressed flush against his side — you think it’s because he doesn’t want you to stumble when you walk. it’s actually because he just wants to feel you against his skin.

regardless, it has you imperceptibly gripping tighter around his arms. but satoru feels it all. every shiver, every goosebump — he’s observing you too much to miss it.

and maybe it’s the liquor, the courage it gives you when he glances down at you as he presses your floor in the elevator — the way you don’t flit your eyes away or look down sheepishly. it’s the way you stare back, almost like a silent invitation.

maybe.

but satoru doesn’t even have time to deduce it when he feels whiskey lips pressed against his, body tumbling into his as you try to get him down to your level.

and there’s a flicker of skilled tongue before he pulls away. gaze darkening as he drinks you in face to face — whispering your name as if it’s the only language he can speak.

as if any other word would break the tension — would forcefully flip your coin back.

(nothing would.)

satoru’s hands find purchase on your hips, rough fingers bunching at the fabric that separates your skin from his. and it gives you the slightest hint that you’re not going to get scolded for kissing your teacher.

it riles your courage more, nimble fingers already flexing at his belt loop.

ding!

and you both pull apart — or rather, satoru takes a single long step back, but his hand never leaves your side.

rushed footsteps fill the hallway as he drags you to your room — almost tripping both of you in his haze. too wrapped up in his desire to ruin you, have you in his arms — god, the moment your breath met with his, he’s been itching to ruin you. the way the fragrance of your body mingled with his soul, slowly constricting around it as you unknowingly eat away at his last resolve — his last chance to be a good person.

should he stop? take his arm off of you and just walk away? bid you farewell with the reassurance that it was just the liquor that had your soft lips pressed against his?

nope, his mind is already made up. body already given into his desires, can’t stop that now, satoru reasons.

and now he’s watching you fumble for your keycard — cheeks flushed and breath coming in slow, ragged. the second he’s in your room, you’re pushed onto the bed — heels kicked off as satoru eyes you, and there’s something weird in his gaze. something you can’t place.

the moon would tell you it’s his selfishness. his thirst for forbidden fruit — the way he won’t hold your stare for too long because his hunger persists, wants, and craves you.

only you.

(suddenly.)

and satoru knows heaven will never know his name.

not when he lifts his fingers to your mouth and tells you to suck. not when he murmurs fucking hell when you teasingly wrap your lips around his middle and ring finger until they are wet.

and definitely not when he tells you to lie back — and almost like a girl with experience, you obediently listen — legs spreading without being asked, giving him a view of your center.

and that — that fucks with him.

because what do you know about this?

but satoru doesn’t dwell on it for long, too focused on stripping your panties down your legs quickly. and when it’s long gone, his fingers slide up your naked core, making you shiver. satoru just chuckles — a low, broken sound — as he rubs slow, deliberate circles around your sensitive nub.

a soft whimper leaves you as you arch your back, hips shifting in a desperate attempt to feel him deeper. and without a second thought, his fingers pound into you, curling and pressing around your heat, producing a sound so filthy it has satoru’s briefs soaked, already dripping in pre-cum. the vigor of his fingers has you gasping out a litany of whimpers and broken whispers of his name.

when satoru finally pulls your first orgasm out of you — his hands quickly find the buckle of his pants and slip it off of him — settling himself between your thighs, elbows braced beside your head, and like instinct, you grip onto him like he’s your lifeline.

and he’s going to take your breath away like a souvenir that he will keep.

[khywae]

Teacher's Pet demo is live! 🎉

Fed up with the Jujutsu world, you find peace in your clan's territory until Principal Yaga asks you to mentor the strongest sorcerer, Gojo Satoru.

As an unconventional mentor to a young man grappling with his closed-off feelings, you and Gojo find solace in each other, sparking unexpected forbidden emotions. Will you stay loyal to your clan's interests, or follow the path that shadows your heart?

Dive into "Teacher's Pet" and decide your destiny! Play the demo now on itch.io!

[bubblegumnnebula]

can someone psychoanalyze my deep-seeded love and obsession with white haired fictional men

[satorusluver]

Minors DNI

I bet if you sucked Gojo off he'd do that thing where he waits until you get really into it - pretty mouth drooling all over his cock and sucking him like you need him more than the air you breath, your tongue eagerly lapping up every drop of salty precum that drips from his swollen, leaky tip - only to pull his length out of your mouth with a lewd pop just to listen to you whine and watch you chase after it.

Satoru's fingers lace through your hair and tug slightly to keep you from moving your head forward. But when you look up at him with those wide, needy eyes and your tongue comes out just begging to feel him in your mouth again, he can't help but indulge you, letting you feel the heavy weight of his cock flat against your tongue before watching your lips close around his head with a satisfied moan that sounds almost like a purr. What a needy little thing you are, always so hungry for his cock. ❤️

[songsofadelaide]

"These fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath— Taking all of me. We've already done it in my head. If it's make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?"

Author's Note: Reader is 19. Gojo is three years older.

You know how you have people you call aunt and uncle but you aren't actually related to them? And they're just really good friends with your parents? That's what Satoru's parents were to you. Your mothers were close since they were children and they both pursued modelling as they grew older. While your mom eventually retired from the game and chose a more quiet life with a kind lawyer for a husband, your Aunt Arisu became a famous supermodel and married into a family of old money— the Gojos.

And though your mom got married much earlier since she retired from modelling first, your Aunt Arisu got pregnant right off the bat after her wedding. She was a spoiled little thing, too, always calling for your mom and not so much her husband when her cravings and hormones reared their ugly heads. She often chided your mom to give her child a playmate, but not too late. She hoped to have a pretty daughter so they could wear fancy matching clothes.

Aunt Arisu's son Satoru was three years old when you were born. And while he wasn't the daughter she pined for, she loved him so, so much because he was just as pretty as she always hoped for. He was present when you were born, locked in his mother's arms as she held him out to take a peek at you.

...The story never gets old. Your mother and Aunt Arisu would always be laughing as they got drunk on their sweet wine every two weeks or so, and your family's kitchen was still a mess after hosting dinner for the Gojos again. Your fathers were drinking whiskey and smoking their expensive cigars on the front porch, talking about current affairs and stocks if you knew. And Satoru...

Well...

He was always welcome in your room. He always brought his own toys to play with and sometimes played with yours, too. Satoru was like the older brother you never had, and he was always so sweet to you... That is until you turned sixteen and suddenly, he was way too good for you to hang out with.

You didn't see much of him in the last three years, but you always knew where he was— on the cover of your favourite teen magazine, that soda commercial on TV, fronting promotional material for high-end clothing and expensive mobile phones on social media... All of that made sense. He's the son of modelling royalty, after all. Your childhood friend was the nation's sweetheart now and you're probably just a girl in his boyhood memories.

You didn't bother showing yourself downstairs when the Gojos arrived for your usual dinner date. You couldn't stomach seeing Satoru sitting across from you at the table, his silvery hair and feathery lashes framing his blue, blue eyes, his slender fingers curling around the wine glass that was usually just your mother's and her best friend's... His eyes twinkling in mischief as he calls your name with that voice of his, both so sweet and so sultry...

Why did he push you away back then when he was the one to embrace you first?

That embrace was etched so in your head since you were sixteen, and it was something you always remembered whenever you saw his posts on Instagram, whenever your mother watched his commercials on TV, whenever you've been struggling at high school... And whenever you were alone in your room in your bed— the walls the only thing that could hear you and your thoughts, possibly— as you dove deeper into your inane imagination.

"Toru..."

He wanted you just as much.

...So much that you were crying to yourself, too, thinking of how stupid you were to believe your Aunt Arisu's silly little joke that you were born for her lonely little son to have someone—

The soft knock on your bedroom door was enough to snap you out of your deluded solo flight. You jumped out of your bed without a second thought about how flushed you looked. "I'll be there in a second, mom... Just... a sec!"

Perhaps you should have thought about it first.

"Hey there. Are you... feeling okay?"

Gojo Satoru. As though he stepped right out of your fantasies mere moments ago.

"Uh..."

He wedged his foot on your door as you tried to shut him out in panic. What the hell was he doing here? "Wait a moment. I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

And what could he possibly want to talk about now?

When you turned sixteen, Satoru's father sat him down for a conversation. He was told that you weren't just some girl anymore. That you weren't children anymore and that he needed to be more careful around you. Because you were growing into a woman— And because of that, there were certain things you couldn't do together anymore.

"What are you saying, dear? If Toru likes her, then I'm all for it. That girl is my best friend's daughter and a fine young lady! I wouldn't want anyone else for my boy!"

...And it bothered him. A lot. Because it meant he couldn't hold you anymore. And when he did so once out of habit— because your laughter delighted him so much— he pushed you away so hard that you held back tears. He didn't know what came over him back then, but he stopped coming over to your room afterwards.

Satoru couldn't handle the way you avoided his gaze whenever he was around for your family's shared dinner. He realised you must have been finally done with him tonight when you didn't bother showing up at all even though you were just upstairs in your room.

"...ask Toru to call her downstairs! I haven't seen that girl for quite some time now! Has she been..."

"...with university lately. There's this boy, too. Her classmate, I think..."

The older women's conversation faded in his head the moment your mother mentioned a boy— a classmate— and just how close the two of you have grown while you were in university. Good grief. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't.

You were supposed to be his.

He made his way to your room upstairs, his footsteps as soft and quiet as a cat's, and he was ready to talk to you. About everything. About why the last three years were torment for him. About why his father was right to remind him that you weren't children anymore because children wouldn't think the way he did. About why you shouldn't go out with that guy from your uni—

Satoru heard them. The faintest of whimpers from your bedroom. And if he was right in his head, he seemed to have heard his name, too.

He wasn't going to let go of this.

You opened the door with your face still flushed and your clothes all rumpled and you nearly shut him out if didn't think fast enough. You let go of the door and allowed him inside your room, the sound of the locks unheard because of the rush of blood in your ears.

He's going to take what's his. Without so much of an effort, too, by the way you willingly walked into his arms the moment he opened them to receive you.

[kamiversee]

𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

Segment I Chapter: One

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin. 

❀ ~ Content > language, arranged marriage, tension from all over, bickering, mentions of a harem, etc.

❀ ~ Word Count > 5.6k

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk men & women x f!reader.

{ chapters m!list }

——You would rather die a thousand times over than become Naoya Zenin’s wife.

Something unorthodox must’ve plagued the mind of your parents this morning because there is simply no way they’d worked up such an audacity to happily relay this information to you. You were to be wed in six months time and yet, this is your first time hearing of such a proposal.

Hell, you hadn’t even received a literal proposal from this alleged fiancé of yours so, who exactly was orchestrating such a wedding and why had you no say nor awareness in it before now? 

“You two are humoring me right now, yes?” Your voice had carried throughout the space of the throne room with such grace that all the attendees of this rather small gathering couldn’t help but have their eyes drawn to you.

The few maids, guards at their posts within the room, your own mother and father who sat oh-so-comfortably upon their thrones, and the few others who were allowed to be in this space as such information was presented to you. Being the one to have ripped the bandage off and relayed said information to you recently, your mother cannot help but find her eyes drifting over to her husband for help.

The two exchange a knowing glance and you watch as they swallow down whatever nerves may have rested center in their throats. Then, your father’s shoulders raise ever so slightly and he averts his eyes over to you.

Voicing your name in that aged gruff tone of his, followed by a slight clearing of his throat, he begins to break the wafted air of silence. “You must understand that this is for the betterment of our nation. We rival none aside from the eastern nation so, naturally, it is only in our best interest to have you wed with the heir to the Zenin family throne.”

You scoff, openly. Eyes widen around the room and looks are exchanged by many but how do people expect you to react to this? Are you meant to be joyous about marrying the most pompous individual across all the lands, a man of which you have only ever encountered maybe two or three times in all your years of living?? Yeah, fuck that.

“So, I am meant to marry this man in six months' time, the engagement will be officially announced at tonight’s ball, and I haven’t a single say in this entire ordeal?” You breathe out carefully, your head tilting and eyes narrowing at the worried eyes of your parents.

Your mother responds with a shaky sigh, “Darling, we hadn’t any choice in this either. Our only options were to marry you off or go to war and we do not have the defenses to—”

“They threatened us?” You interrupt, another act that receives appalled looks from those spectating. “Please tell me you jest, mother. What could the East possibly hope to gain from going to war with us? We’ve been at peace for years and now all of a sudden—”

“Permission to speak,” Chimes another voice. Your eyes flick to your father’s left, landing on the one man he trusts with his life more than anyone else, your nation’s military general; Masamichi Yaga. “Your Highness.” He finishes off, gaze firm on the area of which you stand.

You take a moment to stare, taking in his roughened appearance despite the uniform that fits him so snuggly. Without realizing it, your eyes rake over his form up and down about twice before he clears his throat to break your lingering stare. “Granted,” You eventually allow with a nod of your head.

Yaga straightens up where he stands and exchanges a look of knowing with your father before he speaks loud and clear, “You are the princess of the second largest nation in our continent.” He states with a slightly quirked brow. 

Which prompts you only to roll your eyes a bit.

“I believe you out of anyone else should understand the natural target that is placed on your back. Especially considering you are also the only princess in said continent. You’ve been at the age liable for marriage for a few years now and the reality of this has finally set in. The marriage itself is to join the East nation and the West into one. Should you refuse Naoya’s hand, he would simply join the two nations by…” A slight grimace is noticed within his expression, “Force.”

Yet another scoff falls softly from your lips, “You say this to me as if he is incapable of marrying a man. Surely, someone like Prince S—”

“Now is not the time to joke, my lady.” Yaga interrupts as gently as he can, “He could very well go on and marry into one of the other royal families but they do not rule over our nation, now do they? The east is the largest of them all, our sole rival. Do you not see the importance of this marriage taking place? It is either that or war and, as our queen has so clearly told you, we do not have the defenses to—”

“And what of the other nations? The north? The south? Hell, even the smallest out there; Middom? Is it not possible for us to rally our defenses with them and..” Your voice trails to an eventual fall as you notice the look on Yaga’s face. He doesn’t even have to cut you off this time for you to realize this conversation isn’t going anywhere. 

You exhale and turn to your royal adviser who’s at your right side. Wide-set eyes and all, Higuruma merely offers you a nod of his head to silently console you. Like everyone else in this damn room, he was pleading for you to simply let this go and follow along with things like some pawn in everyone else’s game. 

“You would rather go to war and risk the lives of thousands than marry this man?” Yaga adds on to question.

Your lips quirked and you looked at him again, “Do you want my honest answer to that?”

“No, I would like your noble answer.” He replies dryly.

“Tch.” You huff, your face flattening. “Of course I would do anything to avoid war, I am not cruel. But I do hope all of you realize what joint nations entail for our future—their laws and customs will be indoctrinated into our society overnight. And if you think I will have any influence over that then you clearly know not of the man I am to marry. The words of a woman carry no weight with him.”

Your father is the next to speak up, “We are well aware of what this means for our future. But, it is either that or… death.”

With a crisp, yet obviously faux smile, you nod to that. “Right. Well, if that is all,” You begin to bow your head for respect, “Mother, Father, I shall excuse myself.”

Then you swivel around to make your exit, only to be stopped by the queen’s voice once more. “That is all?” She asks.

You paused in your steps but did not turn back to face her. “I’m unsure of what other argument you expect from me, mother. I either marry him or we go to war, what more could I possibly say to that?”

The sound of her sighing can be heard. It was almost as though she’d truly expected or maybe even anticipated a longer refute from you. “...Just,” Her words come out in a slow fashion and you get the feeling that she may be able to read your thoughts. “None of your schemes tonight, please? If you’re truly on board with this then don’t do anything brash—”

“I wouldn’t dare.” You cut off rather rudely, turning slightly to then cut your eye at her. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

No more words are exchanged as you hastily make your way out of the room, only the sounds of your heels echoing through the large archways and halls heard as you do so.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Moments after you’d made your exit, two people had now taken your sides and followed rather closely behind you. Too nervous to say anything just yet, they both simply follow your hurried steps toward wherever you were off to without a word. 

One was your knight, who’d always followed close behind you since your teenage days, willing to throw herself into the face of death at any given moment simply for your sake. Tall, fit, blond, with a set of brown eyes any person could easily find themself lost in, stood Yuki Tsukumo proudly wearing that pristine royal guard uniform as her steps mirrored your own in speed.

Beside her was that pleasant royal advisor of yours, Higuruma Hiromi. Also quite tall (who wasn’t these days), wide, tired eyes, and a voice that typically drives you insane with annoyance given the number of lectures you’d received by it—he was careful to trail after you, given all that’d recently transpired. 

It’s a long walk of silence before your beloved knight breaks it. “I assume things went unwell back there?” Yuki hums cautiously as she fully takes your right side, leaving Higuruma slightly behind you.

“Your assumption would be correct,” You huff almost instantly as if you’d been waiting for either of them to say something to you. “I am to be wed in six months.”

Seeing as Yuki wasn’t exactly in the room while things were explained to you, she’d hardly a clue as to what had you pacing down the halls in such a determined fashion as you did currently. “Wed? Six months?? To whom?” She rushed out in alarm, her expression quick to contort into deep concern and alarm.

“The heir to the Zenin throne,” You say with a long sigh following shortly after.

“You can say his name y’know,” Higuruma comments before appropriately taking your left side.

You roll your eyes, “I would rather drop dead.”

At that, his feet come to a sudden halt and you and Yuki follow suit. “My lady, I know you are not fond of your… situation, but, what else can we do by this point? He will officially propose tonight and unless you can find another prince to do so before him in the next few hours then—”

It was like a literal lightbulb had gone off above that tiara-adorned head of yours, sparking Yuki’s eyes to rake over the excitement that washed against your features.

“Oh my, that’s brilliant.” You gasp with a turn to your recently spoken advisor.

“I simply cannot imagine how—pardon?” He choked, “You do know he is the only member of a royal family attending tonight, right? You couldn't possibly hope to… find a better suitor beforehand and even if you did, his highness would not have it.”

Every word of his seems to go through one ear and out the other as you take a step closer to him, flash a smile, and then move your hand to his arm. “My finest of gratitude to you, Sir. Higuruma.”

His eyes seem to widen with pure confusion. “...I do not understand.”

“You play your role as my advisor well, thank you.” You proceed, not caring to elaborate in the slightest. Then you turn away and begin walking again, “I know what I must do.”

His feet stammer to follow you once more, “And what might that be, my lady? You promised your mother–, the queen, that you wouldn’t do anything brash.”

“It willn’t be ‘brash’ at all.” You chirp simply.

“Then what—”

Pausing only one last time, you glance back at your awfully confused advisor and send him a reassuring grin. “Have my lady-in-waiting arrive to my room within the hour, I have a ball to prepare for.”

With that, your walk continues. Higuruma tries to follow you but he’s stopped by a hand meeting his chest. His brows pinch together just as he looks down, finding Yuki’s palm hovering over his chest in a silent motion to get him to stop. 

He then looks at her and opens his mouth to protest against everything that’d just happened but with a simple shake of her head before he could even get a word out, his shoulders sink and he ends up turning away with a huff.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

An hour does, in fact, fly by before you find yourself in the confines of your bedroom. With your feet meeting the soft cushions of a small stool, your head held high, and your mouth moving at such a rapid pace, you’d been venting to your lovely lady-in-waiting from the moment she’d arrived in your room.

“And the worst part of it all? If I am to marry that man then I will later be expected to carry an hier—fuck,” Your voice is cut short with a low curse as the strings securing the corset part of your dress are only pulled tighter from behind you. Your back straightens up a bit more than before and your voice pitches to a higher and breathier degree, “‘Hime, that’s… hah, too tight-, I can hardly breathe.”

She perks up from behind you and releases the strings from her grasp entirely, “Ah, I am so sorry, my lady!” The maiden gasps softly. Her fingers then trail upward along the fabric weaving through the corset holes and you feel her making steady adjustments. “I was so caught up in that story of yours that I uhm,” She loosens an area or two, allowing you a moment to breathe. “Got carried away… How’s this—better?”

You release a long exhale as your shoulders relax, “It’s much better now, as far as breathability is concerned. But,” Your eyes linger on the nearby propped up mirror and you ogle your figure closely. “Well, now it is too loose.”

In the mirror’s reflection, you notice those violet locks of hair resting atop her head sway to the right as her head tilts to study your figure from her angle better. “Hm. I see.” She utters to herself before taking hold of those strings once more. “I’m going to tighten it again, are you ready for it this time?”

With a nod, you glance back at her and raise your thumb up. “Mhm, pull until I say stop.”

Her hands begin to do just that, slowly pulling the strings to tighten the piece once more. As she gives her softened tugs, her eyes lift to your face and she watches the way a hitched breath leaves your lips. “Too tight?”

“Did I say stop?” You ask lightheartedly.

She shakes her head, “No, but–”

“Utahime,” You breathe her entire name so suddenly that her hands come to a halt immediately. “Keep pulling.”

Probably with some form of nervousness under your direct gaze and commanding tone, her head drops and she focuses her eyes back down to her hands—giving you one firm tug that makes your body jerk backward ever so slightly. You gasp, again, and this time a hand of yours moves back to grab her wrist.

“Right there,” You utter, “That is perfect, thank you.”

Utahime stares at your grasp on her wrist for a moment longer than necessary before clearing her throat and sealing that tightly pulled fabric with an appropriate knot. Then, she removes her hands from your dress entirely and takes a step back. “Well uh-, as you were saying, my lady?”

You’re busy twisting and turning slightly to gather your appearance in the mirror before you respond, oblivious to the nearby eyes also gathering your frame. “Oh, yes, I would be expected to deliver an heir not too long after I am married. Knowing my parents and the Zenin family, both I and the man I am to marry would ascend the throne mere weeks after the wedding. The very next thing that follows that would be…”

“Having his child,” Utahime finishes for you, her voice disappointed—for your sake. “I’m sorry to hear of this, truly. I wish there were something I could do to help.”

You chuckle before stepping off of that small stool you’d been posted upon, striding over to your nearby dresser, and popping open a box of jewelry. “Fret not, ‘Hime,” You console with a dismissive wave of your hand. “I will not marry any Zenin man. Not in this life, nor the next.”

She paces over to you and dips her hand into that recently opened box, “So, what will you do?”

“Good question.” Protrudes Yuki, who’s been leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom listening for quite some time now. “I am really just dying to know what that big plan of yours is.” She scoffs, earning your glance. She nods her chin to you slightly, “I saw the look in your eyes earlier so, tell me, princess… what’re you plannin’?”

The smile that spreads across your face was much too bright for you to fight, “Like everyone else, you two will find out tonight.”

Your knight’s eyes roll as she pushes off the frame and begins to approach you and Utahime. “Awh, don’t do that. The last ‘scheme’ you pulled off—”

“Got you your current position as my knight, if I’m not mistaken, Lady Tsukumo.” You adjourn as Utahime swipes up the corresponding jewelry to your dress and begins to assist in accessorizing you. 

Yuki only gets closer before posting herself against the wall nearest to the dresser you stand at. She gives you a firm stare, receiving a matching one from you, before instead focusing her gaze on the necklace currently being fastened around your neck. “Touché. But it was reckless.”

“Harmless,” You correct with a shrug. “I mean, really, God forbid a woman gets what she wants through slightly drastic measures.”

She looks around the room for a moment before tutting. “You put yourself in harm's way just to test my capabilities.”

“I put myself in harm’s way to prove your capabilities to those who doubted,” You correct for a second time, flawlessly. “Plus, that was years ago. I won’t go to any lengths like that this time around, the safety of my nation is on the line. Just know I have an idea I may act on.”

Yuki can’t help the worry etched onto her face as she only questions you further, “And this idea is safe?”

Smiling still, “No ideas are ‘safe’ for women in this day and age.” You remind her.

Silence befalls upon the room and even Utahime’s fingers pause on the clasp of your necklace that she’d been struggling with for the past few minutes. Her eyes soon glide over to Yuki and they exchange a look, their thoughts mutual within the quietude.

After that briefness passes, Yuki’s voice softens and she leans toward you ever so slightly, “So then, perhaps you shouldn’t act on it?”

Your face twists up as if you were offended, “And marry that coxcomb?” To which Utahime snorts. “Over our dead bodies.” You huff.

The air seems to have lightened up and Yuki grins, “‘Our’..?”

“You’ve said you would die for me, yes?”

She hums, “Without hesitation.”

“Then, yes, our.”

Utahime’s accessorizing comes to an end as she finally gets that clasp in order and takes a step back—pulling you to turn around to face her, and then taking in your prepared appearance. “Perfect.” She chirps.

“Gorgeous,” Yuki adds beneath her breath with a faint cock of her head.

You’re left smiling at the hushed compliments from the two before hearing a telling knock on your bedroom door, followed by the voice of someone informing you that guests are beginning to arrive for tonight's event. You hadn’t even realized how much time you’d spent venting to Utahime and getting ready for the dreaded ball and now, the sun was on its journey to set and it was time for said ball to actually take place.

Sometimes, you forget how fast time seems to move when you are in distress. You soon reply to the quick announcement you’d been given and you and your two accompanying ladies begin to make haste toward exiting your bedroom.

Faint worry remains on both Utahime and Yuki’s face as they follow your lead but they make no more vocal arguments about it. Yuki trusts your judgement, to some degree, and Utahime is moreso frightened for what the future holds for you regarding this arrangement.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

All doubts and worries entirely aside, by the time you indulge yourself in the festivities of the ball graciously hosted by your parents, your internalized fear for how things may go seems to fade. That timeless ballroom music you’d been surrounded by all your life floats through the air along with the sound of laughter and chatter from the lavish guests who’ve traveled from all over just to be here.

These glorified parties are a repetitive cycle you’ve been forced to grow accustomed to but, you’ve never minded them much until today. The entire time you socialized with the many aristocrats and members of high-class families, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. No one seemed to mention Naoya or his family to you, which led you to wonder if earlier that morning had merely been some lucid nightmare of yours…

Surely if this engagement were to take place tonight and had been planned out long before you were privy to it, someone would have mentioned it or even asked if you were excited for it by now. Unless all those around you were just as aware as you are of how dreadful a family the Zenins were..?

Or hell, maybe people were told not to say anything to you—

It’s then that someone bumps into your back, nearly causing you to choke on the bubbly beverage you’d been sipping on for the past few minutes. And just when you thought you’d scored a moment of peace for yourself…

An overwhelming sum of cologne slithers into your nose and although the smell is quite pleasant, clearly its wearer had sprayed far too much on themself—leading you to cough in an attempt to clear both your nose and your throat. Then, with an arm raised slightly over your face, you turn to whoever just bumped into you.

You don’t know what hits you first, the abrupt sight of him or that grating tone of his. “I swear you people have no sense of awareness. Has your sense of sight failed you, leaving you unable to see that I was clearly—oh,” Naoya grouses, his upper lip lifting faintly in a twinge of disgust. “It’s you.” He diverts, silently revoking his words prior out of what little respect he holds for you.

As unfortunate as it is, you have to drag your gaze upward to meet his. Just then, you mentally curse whoever's responsible for his mere existence because it should truly be a crime to be that painfully attractive, especially considering how all that typically flies out the window the moment he opens his mouth. You think your breath hitches at first sight of him.

Perhaps it was the proximity, considering he’d just bumped into you and made no efforts to back away after but, either way, he is undeniably… quite handsome. You have to blink thrice to register that this is the same rude man you’d last seen years ago, who you definitely do not remember being this… yeah, you won’t be throwing him any more compliments—albeit they’re all mental, as of now.

In the same way you seem to be taken aback by his appearance, he unconsciously weighs his head to the side as he drinks-, more like, gulps in your appearance. His eyes run up and down your face at least four times before he looks further down, in an attempt to glance at the necklace you have on, only to find himself leering at your chest and whatever cleavage you had visible. And, to say the least, if anything is mutual between the two of you, it’s definitely the attraction.

You decide to work up your usual confidence to speak, having reminded yourself who exactly you're looking at right now. “My eyes are up—“

��I know where your eyes are, woman.” Naoya cuts off with such a quickness that your head cocks back in immediate offense. But, before you can say anything else, he clears his throat and you watch him squeeze his eyes shut. “Pardon me,” He grits out, the words sounding as though it pained him to speak them. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so…” His eyes flutter open and he inhales strongly before cutting his intake off with a cough. “Close.” Is the last word he breathes out to you.

Your eyes remain on him and his every facial shift—the way he pulls his head back, takes another deep breath, bats his lashes elsewhere for a moment, brings his fist to his lips to cough again, and then shakes himself out of whatever that all was. You’re left unsure of what his body language translates to but you don’t believe you have it in you to care considering the way he starts talking again.

“Anyway,” Noaya straightens up where he stands and finally looks down at you (literally and mentally), “Let’s make this quick since I’ve finally found you, yeah?”

You raise a brow and move to cross your arms, “Does that imply that you were searching for me?”

His lips twitch, “No.”

“Some fiancé you’ll be…” You grumble out to him, to which he snorts.

“Just lend me your hand so I can propose, we’ve eyes on us.” He tells you rather quickly and quietly. You didn’t even realize how long your attention was on him before you blinked and looked around, finding the eyes of many lingering on you and him.

Oh. So people were aware of his upcoming proposal…

With a heavy sigh, you glance at him once more and he’s got this cunning look plastered all over his face. “I believe a man is to drop down on one knee to propose, no?” You ask almost dryly.

Naoya’s brows twist up, “You expect me to get on my knees for the likes of you?”

You shrug off his rudeness, “How else are you to propose?”

“You give me your hand and I slide this ring on your finger,” He tells you with a steadily lowering voice, dipping a hand into his pocket.

You honestly cannot believe the constant audacity that simply oozes off of this man. It’s as though he expects everything in his life to be served to him on a silver platter. “I will offer out my hand to no man who refuses to at least get down on one knee for me.” You tell him simply, your confidence not wavering in the slightest.

His left eye twitches in pure irritation. “I refuse to do anything ‘for you’.”

“Then I refuse to marry you.” You shrug.

He scoffs right in your face, “You haven’t the liberty.”

You huff back, “How can I be expected to marry a man who’s yet to propose?”

“You—“ Naoya grits his teeth and looks to the high ceilings for a moment before groaning slightly. He eventually returns his eyes to you and you can tell he’s over this entire thing. “Does compliance come this difficult for all women?”

“Does arrogance come this naturally from all men?” It’s from here that the two of you glare each other down while bickering back and forth as if it were second nature.

“Must you have a rebuttal for everything I say?”

“Depends on how long you take to propose to me like a proper gentleman.”

He pauses for a split second before sassily rolling his eyes, “You irritate me.”

“I’ve hardly done anything,” You reply with a lighthearted chuckle.

“Is shutting up something you’re incapable of?”

Dismissing him for the first time, you begin to look elsewhere. “Are you going to propose or not? I don’t have all night.”

Naoya swears he’s seconds away from tossing the ring in his hands into the nearest trashcan and declaring war because surely that would be much simpler than getting you to go along with things, “Don’t rush me.”

“You’re the one who said to make this quick,” You remind the man, noticing the distant gaze of both your parents and his.

The prince in front of you grits his teeth again, “I—“ 

“So hurry up.” Your hand waves in a dismissive manner as you turn your head back to him, “Get on your knees, Zenin.”

He’s clearly physically incapable of accepting any sort of orders from you without having anything to say so, “Address me by my first name.” Is what leaves his lips shortly after.

“I will not.” You deny.

He flashes a knowing smirk, “You must.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will discard this act of peace and declare w—“

“Fine,” You choke out, almost in fear. “Naoya… if you wish for me to be your wife in six months' time then you will drop to one knee and propose to me, properly.”

He finally begins to lower down to one knee, speaking in a harsh whisper, “The excess was unnecessary.”

“I care little of what you deem unnecessary.” You utter right back.

“I care little about you.”

“Good.”

Whipping the ring out quickly and assuming the perfect position below you, he glares, “Be my wife.”

You wish you had a way to capture how he looks right now. Naoya being on his knees is a sight no one can say they’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing before so, naturally, many of the onlookers begin to gasp and share gossiping whispers to one another. 

You keep your voice low but many watch your mouth move, “Is that how you propose? No wonder you’ve yet to find a woman before me…”

Naoya’s fingers pinch the ring held up to you tighter and you notice a vein pop out along his sharp jawline, “This arrangement was not by my personal choice. Now, do me… the honor, and…” He waits a moment before raising his voice so that those nearby can hear, “Marry me.”

You deadpan, “It sounds like you’re demanding me—“

“Jesus-, fuck, woman!” He curses unintentionally with a momentary drop of his head. Before you can let out the laugh his reaction invokes, he flips his gaze right back up to you and looks you dead in the eye as he speaks in a firm tone, “Will you marry me?”

For the first time since he’s ever known you, you smile at him—causing his body to feel… weird. He thinks he hates that stupidly gorgeous spread of lips and flash of teeth that starks across your face. Then, your hand is held out to him and you nod. “I suppose.”

He narrows his eyes at you and doesn’t move.

You roll your own. “Yes, I… accept your proposal.”

Not wasting any more time whatsoever, Naoya practically shoves the ring onto your finger, his touch oddly as smooth as silk against you. “Finally. Now—“

“Under one condition.” You add on with a very slight retraction of your hand.

“Condition??” His brows meet and his eyes frantically travel over to where both your parents stand, “I was not informed that this would come with any—“

“No one knew of any until now,” You say as you lean down a bit.

He groans, “What is it?”

It’s almost as though there was some sort of shift within your tone. As Naoya moves his eyes back to you, he finds your entire presence wildly different in comparison to a few seconds ago. And the darkened look you hold in your eyes, the way that smile of yours had yet to fade—just what could you possibly have planned in that feeble mind of yours??

“I would like to curate a harem for myself during our engagement,” You requested.

Naoya fights internally to hold back the shocked laugh he’d almost let out in your face, “Why am I not surprised the wench wishes for a harem of all things…”

You let out an offended breath, “Excuse me—“

“Sure,” He scoffs, sizing you up and down as he quickly raises to his feet. “You can make your lil’ harem. Run around and tarnish your reputation all you want but, that will not be enough for me to end this engagement.”

Back up to his feet, he finds himself looming toward you and surprised by how unmoving you are, “I don’t plan on it.”

Naoya only inches closer, “Must every last word be yours?” He asks, breath fanning over your skin with a faint scent of… mint?

You respond silently with a thin-lipped smile, mentally discarding how you keep picking up on such small details.

To which a vein in his forehead makes a sudden appearance, “Oh you little—“

“Let us all congratulate the happy couple!” A voice, Higuruma’s, chimes in, “A joyous union this’ll be for our nations!” He announces quickly.

People rush to swarm you and Naoya within seconds, celebratory wishes and congratulations thrown at you from left and right as if this was truly some big surprise. Perhaps it was the fact that Naoya was actually able to propose to you and you were able to accept it without… anything else taking place instead.

So, you suppose you have something to celebrate now. Your request for a harem was approved without any question whatsoever. Perfect. You may not have had the time to get anyone of royal status to propose to you before Naoya did, especially considering it would take an act of love for someone to do so in the first place but, you sure as hell just bought yourself some.

m!list | next chapter |

tags 1/2;

@angellliqua @celestial-lunar  @withcheese @itoshi-r @silvarys @everything-red @fishosezo @haesify @sassybananaweaselpsychic @orange-juice-is-ass

@notjustagirlinthisworld @sushiimara @larkson0 @di-in-al @sxnkuna @hanuh @cayla0000 @helloxkittylo @idkmanshrugg @chocolatecheer

@michelintopic @cinaminroll @french3xit @valleydoli @broimherebcsimboredok @sleepisforpuzzies @cuti3patooti8 @sukunadckrider @f0r7una @ventila98

@vixionix @levislug @mauve-gojo @chosomi @semi-lover @bee3l0v3r @noooo-onee @r4sh3li @yenayaps @chososbestgirl

@smutyturtle @simp-plague @pnkblueberry @stargirl-mayaa @kunareads @tojisdollx @gojoslefttoenail @forbiddenblog @glittercherry777 @samm1e13

[bodega-catto]

Gojo fell first AND hardest what a gay disaster

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

some of u might not believe this but i am infinitely more picky about gojo’s characterization than i am suguru’s

[nonbinary-thot]

Artist partners! Who say you're their muse, that they love sketching you and painting you in their free time.

There's multiple canvases in their work space of you, looking as if you were something so delicate and like a Greek god.

Artists partners! Who asked you to come to their work space, as they were suffering from art block and you always seem to pull them out of it.

So there you were, laid on their couch, both of your holes stuffed with vibrators, strapped and handled by them as they increasingly turned it down just to turn it back up.

Your head was thrown back, with a vibrating ball gag in your mouth with drool seeping out the sides and dripping onto your bare chest. Completely bare for them.

Artists partners! Who are practically foaming at the mouth as they delicately paint you on the canvas, while touching themselves.

Artists partners! Who turn the vibrators in both holes off the second you were about to cum, leaving you a whining and crying mess, but can't vocally say anything due to the vibrating ball gag, which was making you jaw slack.

Artists partners! Who just chuckle at your whines. "I'm sorry my sweet, but I can't have you cumming, yeah? Not til I'm finished painting you. Once I'm finished, I'll let you cum as much as you want." They paused, "I'll even let you ride my thigh, hm? You'd love that, wouldn't you, dirty girl." They chuckled.

Artists partners! Who deemed you far from cumming now, and immediately turned both vibrators back on, one on low while the one in your ass one high.

The vibrators have your eyes rolling back from the slow and fast stimulation, whining and bucking your hips against the couch.

"tsk, sweet girl, have you learned nothing? Poor brain is all mushy." They laughed almost cruelly, turning the vibrators on high as they continued to paint you, then once again turned them both off right before you could cum.

Artists partners! Who have edged you at least 20 times in the hours while they painted you.

Artists partners! Who's smiled once they were finished, turning the canvas around to let you see the beautiful yet such lewd painting of you, while they turned both the vibrators on high, letting you cum.

"you're such a a pretty girl f'me, letting me paint you in such a way... Go on and cum lovely, look at the painting while you do, wanna watch you cum to the painting of you."

[improbable-outset]

He’ll always take every micro expression of your expression whenever he takes your hand

And guides them to his groin so you could feel his bulge pulsating under his boxers.

“You feel that?” He licked his lower lip, painting his next words with taunts. “I’ve been thinking about this all day”

[Clean version]