toodymcdoody - Tumblr blog

toodymcdoody · 1 day ago

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my god. this is amazing

prince charming

one wears a crown and the other seems destined for chains and dungeons. but whose to say which one you'll end up in - or with?

synopsis: from his playmate to his personal servant, you've spent your life pining after the pretty prince. until you're reminded just how misplaced your affections are for a man whose meant to marry another. so you do what any other sane person would do, sell off his possessions and slip out of his palace in the dead of the night! how far will he go to get you - and his stuff - back to his bedroom? and to keep you there, as princess or prisoner?

pairing: prince!Gojo x maid!Reader x bandit!Sukuna

content: mdni, angst and smut, medieval fantasy au, VERY DUBCON, YANDERE GOJO, collaring, jealousy, unprotected piv sex, EXTREMELY unbalanced power dynamics (master/pet), very messy relationships and emotional entanglements, heavy yearning/pining, oral (m! + f!receiving), murder, torture, manipulation, threats, drugging (we put sleeping pills in his tea lol), literally chained to his bed guys ok he's INSANE and EVIL, codependency, kidnapping, branding, manhandling

Satoru Gojo liked you best on your knees.

Scrubbing some stain his drink left behind, brows knitted together on the task at hand. Your work dress sprawled on the floor, your ass sticking out while you strained to wash the wood grain clean. Your breasts would bounce with the force of it, cleavage threatening to spill from the thin cotton barely holding them in.

Sure, his office aide protested the costs of getting a custom uniformed tailored and made specifically for you - but you were the prince's personal maid. You should stand out.

"You missed a spot."

And oh, how pretty you looked pouting over your shoulder at him, biting on that bottom lip before replying softly. "Sorry, Your Royal Majesty."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me by my name?" He murmured, leaning down, but not to get on your level. No, it was meant to remind you of it. You were beneath him. His property to do with as he pleased.

It wasn't that you'd done something to deserve it.

He was just born better than you. Better than everyone.

You didn't speak, just nodding, that familiar spark in your eyes like you were desperately seeking his approval before you let your head hang low.

"My apologies again," You murmured, hesitating to let the next word fall from your lips. "Satoru."

Honestly, he'd prefer master, but you might do something foolish if he insisted on it too soon.

He wasn't exactly patient.

But he was trying to be for you.

To break you in slowly, mold you into the perfect shape he wanted before he made you snap.

Was it his fault your adoration was so addictive? Those big eyes you'd give him? The shy glances you'd steal? Obediently following his every request and anticipating the ones he hadn't even ordered yet? Cutting his food into cute shapes and adding extra salts to his bath after particularly grueling training sessions?

He used to think you were like a lost puppy. Your parents worked in the kitchen, and you ended up exploring the palace most days when you were both younger, following him around starving for whatever scraps of attention he'd throw at you.

It was annoying when you were six and he was seven. But no matter how spoiled he was, he knew better than to kick a hungry dog. They could bite. So he allowed your company, your devout compliments and bright smiles while you clung to his side. Growing up with you as his shadow.

He wasn't sure what changed - or even when.

Just that somewhere along the way, you both grew up - and he was the one chasing your tail.

From your first confession that you'd be starting work in the scullery despite barely finishing your schooling, he scoffed and snatched you up to work in his chambers instead. It was awkward at first. He was barely a man, and you were meek in your little maid outfit, but your clumsy fingers still worked to fasten the buttons on his outfits and fix his bathwater every morning, just as attentive as his servant as you were as his friend.

It'd turned into something more once you were adults. Unable to hide the attraction, and why should he? You'd been his since the first day you tugged on his sleeve and called him Toru. It only made sense you'd end up sharing his bed and crying his name out now.

He'd been keeping your leash tighter lately, insisting you wait on him during his meetings, despite your protests that you needed to clean his chambers and prepare his things during the day.

Nonsense.

He was your duty. Your god, really.

To be worshipped and waited on.

His word was the law. What was the point of being a prince if what his words weren't worth their weight, if his orders weren't absolute?

"I want strawberries," He hummed, watching your shoulders briefly stiffen, before you nodded again.

"I can go pick some from the garden," You immediately offered, before swallowing hard and correcting yourself, standing up slowly and readjusting your dress so you looked a little less like a hired whore, pulling up the front to cover your breasts more. "I'll go now."

That was power, wasn't it? Three words and you were rearranging your entire day simply to satisfy his whim.

"Come here," He murmured, and you obeyed.

Scampering over with those fluttering lashes, a permanent glimmer of hope glittering in your eyes when you tilted your pretty head up to look at him.

"Yes, Your-" You blushed, cutting yourself off and fumbling with your hands. "Satoru?"

His ego could sustain itself just on the way you pronounced his name alone, the hesitant way it pitched up at the end, the intimacy in each syllable, soft and sweet.

Satoru wanted to swallow you whole - refuse to spit you out even if meant you'd suffocate.

His hand traced down your side, settling on your waist before squeezing you there. You melted into his touch the way you always did, never stopping for a second before molding yourself around him.

"Don't take too long," He murmured, not particularly caring if you did so he'd have a reason to scold you later. To watch you whimper while you tried to make up for it. Preferably underneath his body between the sheets. Stain it enough that you'd have to spend tomorrow cleaning it with the reminder of what you were washing away.

"I'll be back soon," You promised, your stare lingering on his lips like you wished he'd kiss you goodbye.

He leaned down, grazing his mouth ever-so-slightly against the edge of yours, gracing you with the closest he could come to being gentle. A ghost of a peck to satisfy you.

Couldn't you see how kind he was?

Your prince could be a cruel man.

He didn't mean to be.

Maybe it was in his nature.

Cold to the rest of the world, an icy exterior masked by grand hand gestures and bright smiles, neither ever reaching his sharp blue eyes. Commanding a room like the world was just at the reach of his fingertips, there for the taking, all too aware that your world revolved around his every word.

He was magnetic, had been since the first second you saw him, pulling you in with one look, one touch. Plucked you out, preserved you like you were a perfect flower to admire instead of a poor thing to pity in comparison to him.

You weren't oblivious to his favoritism.

You reveled in it.

Happy to be his fool if it meant his eyes wouldn't stray, happy to pine for being put in your place if he was the one on top of you, unhealthily attached to attempting to be the center of his life too, pathetic or not.

That was love, right? Or the closest you could afford to come to it?

He assigned you a role - you played it to the best of your ability. He gave you a task - you did it without a question.

Satoru had been born to rule. You were born to serve him.

So you slung the woven bag over your shoulder, shielded your eyes from the sun and started out towards the overgrown garden path to the strawberry patch behind the palace.

The heat was oppressive, sweat already pricking at your forehead within minutes, your dress clinging to your chest and the hem collecting dirt and grass stains as the stepping stones turned to gravel and weeds.

No one else was there, the kitchen probably too busy preparing lunch for anyone to be collecting ingredients under the sun.

You'd barely made it through filling half your basket before you heard the crunch of leaves, your head snapping over in the direction of the woods nearby, squinting through the thick patch of trees.

But then a hand grabbed your shoulder, turning you around to see an angered Satoru. He was wearing his crown, standing out on top of his shaggy white hair, the gold metal glinting and all the little jewels nestled inside it glittering in the light.

You blinked, unable to breathe until he huffed and held out his arm. It took you a second to see what had irritated him so much.

The coat you picked out for him this morning had a small rip in the sleeve, something only a trained eye would notice. Or a particularly vain man obsessed with the tiniest details devoted to his appearance.

"How am I supposed to show up to a meeting with this?" He frowned, but you knew better than to actually answer.

Let him groan and give you his list of grievances, listened to him moan about the merchants he had such important business to discuss with despite the fact he'd called them imbeciles when you were in bed together the night before.

"Are you mad at me?" You spoke quietly, swallowing hard as you stood there awkward and stiff.

He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes as he held up the frayed stitch.

"I want this fixed tonight," He curtly said, taking off the jacket and tossing it at your chest. "I'll just have to go without it."

The snarky part of you that you usually had to shut down whispered that it was too hot for him to wear a coat anyway. That he was searching for something to complain about.

"I'll fix it," You echoed him, carefully draping it over your arm so you didn't have to meet his scrutinizing stare.

"Get the chefs to prepare a fresh pastry with those for when I finish talking to those morons," He demanded, looking down at your basket with disdain.

"Okay," You murmured, embarrassment coiling in your stomach, slippery snakes of it slithering around and sinking deeper in your gut at the feeling of failing him.

Satoru bent down, hardly an inch away, nose grazing against your ear as he brushed your hair back.

"I'll expect you on your knees when I return," He dryly instructed.

It wasn't a whisper.

If anyone was around, they'd have heard. But Satoru had never given a shit about your reputation, or the murmurs of his other staff.

He'd probably tell the entire palace you were sleeping together if someone showed the tiniest sliver of interest in you.

Satoru didn't wait for you to say anything.

Turned on his heel and walked away, not paying attention to the vines, flattening a stray strawberry under the sole of his shoe, a mess of red mush left behind.

You turned your attention back to the bushes, bending back over to pick a few more strawberries, to give yourself something else to think about.

Another twig snapped, and you glanced back up, expecting Satoru to be returning with something new to say, but it wasn't him.

Instead, it was someone you were sure you'd never seen before.

You certainly would remember a man who was somehow even taller than Satoru, broad and bulky, shoulders and arms that were strong enough to probably crush a grown man in a headlock. Pink hair sticking up, a few leaves stuck to it from being in the forest, a deep set scowl etched into his face, but it was the amusement in his eyes that pissed you off.

He was tattooed too, thick black lines and strange symbols you were unfamiliar with on his skin.

Some sort of magic, maybe? A mage from the wizard's tower also here in business?

No, Satoru would've told you about something like that.

"Who are you?" You defensively asked, holding your basket close to your chest as if you'd actually be able to protect yourself if he chose to do something.

"Just a nobody," He casually shrugged.

"I meant your name," You insisted, more than a little flustered at the focus behind his stare. It wasn't that it was purely physical, but rather measuring, weighing some quality you couldn't discern.

"Do you know anyone's name other than his?" He hummed, a hint of genuine curiosity there.

Irritated by his not entirely inaccurate assumption, you started to turn, to pretend he didn't exist, but he wasn't about to let you.

"Still, it must be nice," The stranger whistled, long and low, greedy eyes searching you up-and-down.

"Excuse me?" You huffed at him, throwing the last couple ripe strawberries in your basket and glancing around the empty garden.

"To have someone as pretty as you to toy with," He shrugged, one corner of his mouth curling up as he jutted his thumb in the direction your prince stomped off into.

"I'm not a toy," You mumbled, looking down at the plants growing by your feet, the smashed strawberry he'd stepped on without a second thought.

"Does he know that?"

Some people might think sweeping floors and stitching his clothes might mean you didn't have much dignity, but you did those things for your prince.

He picked you.

"You're rather rude," You commented. He didn't seem to care, stepping closer much faster than you'd think someone as big as him could, cornering you before you had the chance to scamper away.

Up close, with him hovering over you, you could admit (to yourself alone) that he was rather attractive, strong and sharp, albeit in a wildly different way than Satoru was.

You held your breath, waiting for what would come next, but he just snatched the gold pin off of his Satoru's coat, something that had to cost an absurd amount of coins.

He dropped it in his pocket with a clever smirk.

"You're a thief," You accused, heart beating too fast in your chest, pulse pounding in your ears. Men like him made a living off of stealing from the rich, royal or not, filling their own pockets instead rather than give back to the poor.

"You're a pet," He remarked with the same sort of contempt.

"If you're trying to call me a bitch, I'd prefer you just say so," You snarled back.

"You wanna go rat me out to your master?" He murmured, making fun of you straight to your face. "I'll wait."

You should. Start running while he was giving you a head start. But some piece of you refused to move. And you weren't sure what was making you so reluctant? Resentment?

That couldn't be it.

You loved Satoru.

"Just leave," You muttered under your breath.

He laughed at you for letting him go.

"If you ever get tired of your cage, come to the guild at the edge of the village down there," He leaned in the same way Satoru had, but this was a mockery of it. Still, you weren't sure which one of them was threatening you and who was flirting with you. You didn't think you wanted to know.

His breath was cool against your warm skin, taunting.

And then he pulled away, the moment slipping past so quickly it felt almost as if you imagined it.

You watched him disappear between the trees, but the encounter refused to leave your mind the rest of your day, stuck on the still image of him with that stupid pin for the fleeting second it was between his fingers before he pocketed it.

Stitching up the sleeve until the tear was unnoticeable two hours later while the palace chef finished making Satoru's favorite treat, well, second to you. Would he notice the pin was gone? He had to.

What were you supposed to say?

Oh, it must have fallen off?

Satoru was too smart to buy that.

You were still anxiously mulling over it when you were balancing the silver tray and his coat on your arms, slowly making your way down to curving halls and confusing inner labyrinth of rooms to Satoru's chambers.

Was it good luck he wasn't back yet? Or did it mean his meeting was running long and he'd be in a foul mood by the time he returned to you?

You had barely sat the platter down on his polished nightstand and hung his coat back up in his closet when you heard the creak of the door handle.

And a good dog waited with its tongue out.

You spread your skirt out around you, hands in your lap on the ground and mouth open to form an apology before he even fully opened the door.

But he was already talking, saying he was starving just to shut up once he saw you sitting as he requested.

"Sweetheart," He purred, obviously pleased, but more with himself than you. He looked down at you as he approached, cocking his head to the side with a smug grin. "Such a good girl for me, huh?"

"I fixed your coat," You confirmed, sheepishly avoiding his stare like that would cover up your blush. "And the chef has prepared your snack."

"What if I changed my mind?" He teased, grabbing ahold of your chin and tilting your face up to look at him.

Automatically, you opened your mouth like a puppy waiting for a treat.

He clicked his tongue, chiding you with a soft chuckle. "Patience, princess."

You hated yourself for how much you liked him calling you that.

For pretending for even a second that you were more than just his maid. Or at most, a poorly paid concubine.

He dropped your chin, walking a few steps over to check his jacket. Running his fingers over seams to double check your work. You held your breath, waiting for him to notice the absent pin, but he didn't.

Just hummed his approval and walked over to the tray, lifting the lid to snag his dessert before dropping it with a clang. He draped himself across the closest armchair, long legs spread out and taking a bite of his treat, groaning at the taste. He indulged in every little luxury available to him in life with the same enthusiasm, his crown now askew and crooked on his hair.

You watched him from across the room. Studied the strawberry sticking to his lips, painting them a dark shade of red that reminded you a bit of blood.

He caught you staring, a charming grin spreading across his face before he licked the strawberry off.

And with his free hand, he tugged his cock free from the confines of his pants, already hard, thick veins running along the outside as he stroked the base, readjusting to get more comfortable.

"Well?"

You supposed that was your treat.

Palms pressing against the floor, you were about to push off to stand but then he made a soft scolding sound that stopped you in your tracks.

"Crawl."

You had done worse for him. Would do worse. But for the first time in your relationship, unease had slipped through the cracks. Disgust. With yourself, mostly. That you'd put yourself so far underneath him that you were already crawling to him.

Even though it hurt your knees. However humiliating it was to hear him chuckle at you slowly making your way to him.

And once you were close enough, you were wrapping your mouth around his cock, sucking slow and soft at first, lapping up every drop he had to offer you. Taking what he gave without gagging.

Letting him bully himself deep in your throat, his tip practically bruising the back of it with how hard he was shoving it in. Groaning and grabbing a fistful of your hair to guide you how he wanted.

He kept bumping up into the roof of your mouth, your breathing getting cut off every few seconds, barely able to keep your hands in your lap to stop from steadying yourself on his thighs.

It made your jaw ache, whining a little when your tongue pressed against his vein and it throbbed, desperate for him to cum already.

By the time he did, you were close to tapping out, your mouth about to lock up when you felt his abs tense and he moaned your name, warm cum hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed what he gave you without a question, the slightly salty taste lingering on your tongue even after he pulled out, dragging his leaking tip over your lips with another soft laugh.

You still waited for him to tell you to move, knees surely bruised from the hard floor, one of the few spots in the room without plush carpet.

He took his time putting his cock back up, wiping the last drop of his tip with his thumb and popping it in your mouth, waiting for you to suck that clean too.

Once you did, he fixed the band of his pants as if none of it had even happened, pulling a small box out of his pocket and smiling at you so sweet you could almost forget about what happened in the strawberry patch earlier.

"Close your eyes," He instructed.

You swallowed hard, but did what he said anyway, all your senses on high alert when you couldn't see anything.

"Here," He murmured, something cold slipping around your neck, light on your skin. You reached down to grab it, eyes immediately fluttering open to find a pretty gemstone glittering in a fine silver setting. It wasn't large, but it was obviously worth more than a year's worth of your salary - maybe even two. It caught the light in a strange way, reflecting it back oddly as you examined it between your fingers. "A token of my appreciation."

The stranger was long gone, but part of you couldn't help but wish he was here so you could rub it in his face. See?

Your prince appreciated you.

No one else you knew received gifts of any kind from him.

Much less a nice necklace like this.

He reached down to pick you up by your waist, pulling you up onto his lap, grinning at your giddiness.

"I suppose you like it?" He hummed.

"I love it," You murmured, impulsively craning your neck up to kiss his cheek.

He pushed your hair off your shoulder, pulling down the sleeve of your dress to return the kiss, his lips tender on the bare expanse of your skin.

There was a pause, a silence the two of you rarely had, where you felt more like a couple than a master and his servant. Where you could be in his lap and enjoy his lips without thinking about how badly you needed him to need you.

"I wish it was always like this," You breathed, touching the gemstone, admiring the glittering blue as his lips made their way up your throat.

"Me too."

A new rhythm had been established. You tried to reason with yourself that your relationship with Satoru was sustainable. Waited on him hand and foot and went to every length imaginable to keep him content. And he had sex with you every night like he wasn't. Like he wanted more.

Fucking you in front of the mirror just to watch the necklace he'd given you bounce, laughing when you blushed or tried to hide your face.

But there were moments where you wondered about the man you'd only met for a few moments. Sukuna.

You knew why he lingered on your mind.

He just said the quiet part of your relationship out loud. The fact you forced yourself to forget every morning before you got out of Satoru's bed. That you were more like his pet than a person.

Convincing yourself that somehow you'd chosen that path.

What were your other options?

Go work for pennies doing hard labor? Your only real skill was taking care of Satoru.

There was no guarantee you'd get treated better anywhere else.

So yeah, you weren't trying to snoop. Just struggling to focus when you stumbled across a letter sticking out of Satoru's drawer.

And come on, the jarring words marriage proposal right next to coronation were pretty eye-catching no matter how nice the cursive they were written in was. You dropped your rag. Fingers trembling as they traced over the neat lettering.

Your prince was no longer yours.

He was to be engaged to a princess in a neighboring territory in a matter of months. And rather than a dowry, he'd get their kingdom.

How long had you known it was coming for it to still be a shock?

There was nothing you could do.

You had no power. Hardly any money.

Once their princess knew about you, how long would it be till you were disposed of too? Discarded so he could have heirs?

Maybe moved back to the scullery where you were always meant to be, probably to be ostracized and made an outcast once he'd officially thrown you away.

It wasn't like you had proof any of that would happen.

But even the possibility that it could was too much for you.

Anxiously, you reached up to fiddle with your necklace, only to stop the second your fingers closed around it.

It didn't have a damn thing to do with appreciation.

This was appeasement.

He'd known about the letter.

And still had kept his mouth shut. Didn't say a word about the fact he was supposed to marry someone else.

You shoved his letter back in his drawer, jealousy and disgust simmering inside your stomach like it might burn straight through you.

It held you in place, every muscle too tense and taut to move while you tried to stop yourself from hyperventilating, from crying or screaming or punching something.

"What are you doing?" Satoru's voice startled you, and you snapped out of it.

"I dropped this," You answered, bending over to pick up the rag you'd nearly forgotten about.

Before you could, something hard was pressed against your ass, a firm palm sliding over your side to cup your breast with a chuckle.

What you wanted was only a means to what he wanted.

Would you be thirty-something some day with nothing to show for your life but calloused hands and cold baths? Or would he kick you out the day you were no longer some pliable pretty thing to bend and twist?

You didn't want that.

And maybe, you didn't want him.

Not if this was what it meant.

Sukuna was an asshole.

Maybe the one man who could rival Satoru's cockiness.

But when you showed up knocking on a shady building under only the light of the moon with an potato bag filled with expensive pieces of jewelry and coins Satoru had left lying around, his closet and drawers pilfered for valuables he'd forgotten about, Sukuna just smirked and told you where to put it.

It was a heat of the moment mistake.

Something you normally never would've done. But treason wasn't exactly a simple thing you could walk back.

And Satoru would certainly see it as that instead of just thievery.

"Can you get me across the border?" You murmured, anxiously looking back at the door as he sorted through the treasures you brought him. The gift you'd been given was in the stack, the blue stone glittering at you more like a taunt.

"What? Are you scared or something?" Sukuna scoffed, barely sparing you a glance.

"I just don't wanna be around when he wakes up and realizes I'm gone," You quietly answered, picking at the nails you bit down all afternoon. "And that I took all of this with me."

"I doubt he'll notice," He grunted. "He'll forget about you once there's some new maid in a tight dress taking care of him. People like us are replaceable."

He was right and wrong. You might be replaceable - but Satoru would remember. Especially if he felt scorned.

Which, you were fairly positive he would, considering you impulsively slipped sleeping aids (plus an extra dose or two) you usually took in his nightly tea instead, making sure he stayed asleep so you could steal his shit.

You swallowed your pride to meet Sukuna's harsh expression, the hardened frown and rocky exterior.

"Please."

He stared at you, squinting at little before sighing.

"Fine," He grumbled, giving in before you even had to beg too much. Throwing the necklace that had been around your neck two days ago into a pile of stuff to be sold. "A merchant boat is leaving for the south tomorrow morning. Hope you're fine being a stowaway."

It couldn't be worse than being a servant.

He knew something was wrong when the sun woke him up.

No gentle fingers brushing through his hair or soft voice calling out to him through his dreams. No feet scampering around his room to start his bath, no food waiting for him beside his bed. No you.

He gritted his teeth, ripping out the tracking scroll he'd never suspected he'd actually need to use from his bedside drawer, a magic map of the palace and nearby village roughly sketched on the parchment. The latter was marred by a single glowing dot, hovering over where the market usually was held in the mornings. Your necklace must be there - so you had to be too.

Perhaps it was self-absorbed, but the only conclusion he could come to was you wishing to surprise him with as gift on your meager salary. Maybe his gesture had moved you more than he expected.

He'd still have to scold you for leaving without his permission.

But he'd be lenient this time.

He was about to place it back in his nightstand, but the letter about his proposed marriage caught his attention, immediately scowling at the sight of it.

As if he'd actually let himself be married off in some political sham of a union.

He'd rather take their kingdom with blood. None of it was his own anyway. It was a numbers game. Who was willing to sacrifice how many bodies before they ran the risk of losing their head.

The letter might as well be a white flag. Offering up their only daughter because they were terrified of him?

He didn't need her or them to take his father's throne.

It was already his.

So why have a wife when he had you?

He sighed, swinging his legs off the bed, grimacing at how heavy they felt, leaden and body still thick with sleep, every movement a drag.

His head hurt, a dull migraine blooming behind his eyes and hitting him hard the second he stood, forced to sit back down on the edge.

If you were here, he'd be demanding you fetch the apothecary to concoct him something to fix this awful headache.

The faint irritation burned brighter as he laid back down, glaring at the door as if it'd make you walk through it faster. The only thing that made him feel any better was the thought of waiting on him, pressing a cool compress to his forehead bathing him with your hands when you got back, imagining pulling the sick card so you'd be forced to pamper him and feel bad you'd left him like this.

But maybe he'd take a nap first.

You'd surely be back by the time he woke up again.

You didn't know what happened first. Falling out of love with Satoru or falling in love with Sukuna.

The feelings were tangled up in each other, twisted so you couldn't exactly separate them.

Three months without Satoru felt more like a millenia. Each day was your own to dictate.

The first few weeks were weird.

Strange to wake up without a million tasks ahead of you, to crawl out of a stiff and unfamiliar bed or sleeping bag, to survive off stolen foods and dressed in different clothes you pilfered from suitcases and from staff.

You were supposed to part ways with Sukuna at port the ship you'd stowed away with him on docked at.

But after the time you'd spent together, awkwardly picking together the pieces of his life and offering slices of yours, he'd begrudgingly taken you with him to meet the other members of his guild. They operated under the cover a different one - disguised to orchestrate an entire underground market of stolen goods.

You never expected any of them to welcome you in.

Yet they did anyway.

Instead of being tossed back onto the street, they offered you a room to stay in. Helped you create a fake identity and set you up waiting tables for extra coins in the tavern that they met in the backroom of. And when Sukuna showed up at your door grumbling that he was supposed to go on another trip, you surprised yourself by asking to go with him.

He surprised you more by taking you with him.

It was strange in itself.

He'd been, well, clingy lately. Still standoffish and stoic, brusque every time he talked to you, but he never strayed too far from your side, no matter how strained his expression was.

So you tried to play it cool the first time you felt his hand settle on your shoulder, the weight of his arm heavy on your frame. Pretended to be normal about it when you leaned into his sturdiness.

You thought you'd be protected by Satoru.

But you never knew what safe felt like until you were with Sukuna.

He didn't have a name to back him up. Or the type of money to bail you out. But people steered clear when he was around, shrinking back before he stepped anywhere close to them and listening to everything he said the first time he snarled it out.

You liked to study his face when he was sleeping, all his features still stiff, frowning at whatever his dreams brought, only relaxing when you curled up against him, an arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in tight enough you couldn't escape.

The sun was starting to poke out from above the canopy of the trees, shadows casting across his face when you tried to squirm out of his grip.

"Don't be a brat," He muttered, squeezing you tighter.

"We should get going," You whispered.

"Fuck," He grunted, groaning as he started to sit up, still not letting you go.

The day continued the same. A hand on your waist. His mouth brushing against your ear when he spoke to you. His hip pressed into your body.

The village you stopped at was small, wary glances thrown your way when you walked into the only place that served any food in town for travelers passing through.

Sukuna managed to convince someone to lend you a room for the night with a few coins, grabbing bowls of some stew that would at least be warm, dragging you back in and double checking the door was locked before putting the food down on the rickety wooden table.

You ate slower than usual, too busy scrutinizing every flicker of his face.

"Stop starin'," He grunted, shoving a spoonful in his mouth before you rolled your eyes and glanced out the window instead.

It was pretty here, all sorts of plants and greenery you'd never seen before, white flowering shrubs and small pink weeds among the mossy grass. It looked like something out of a storybook you used to steal from the palace library, hiding away in the corner just to stare at the pictures of, pretending Satoru was the prince in the fairytale.

You felt your lips twitch down into a frown, the way they always did when you thought of him.

Was he busy wedding planning? It had to be happening soon.

Or had he forgotten about you already? Moved on?

A part of you that you were ashamed of hoped he hadn't. Hoped he wished he'd loved you more when you were around, or that he'd yearn for you long after you left. It was selfish and incredibly stingy, but you couldn't help it.

You'd been avoiding any news about the kingdom you left behind, cringing and walking away whenever you overheard someone speaking of it, turning a blind eye.

But you saw him sometimes, in your memories disguised as dreams, where he'd hold you and make more promises that meant nothing.

But he was your past.

And a much larger piece of you had started to think of Sukuna as your future.

"Are you thinking about him?" Sukuna broke the silence.

"What?" You looked back at him, blinking back shock.

"Your prince," He spat the word out like it left a disgusting taste on his tongue that wasn't just from the stew.

"Only that I'm glad I left," You shrugged it off, looking back out the window.

In just a few short months, you'd seen more of the world than you had your whole life. And it was a lot fucking bigger than what was inside the castle walls.

Sukuna had handed you a map a couple days ago, asking you to pick a place for the two of you to travel to next after you mentioned how exciting you found all of it. Being with him included.

"Yeah?"

It seemed he was just full of surprises lately. Because in a few short seconds, he was pushing his chair back with a creak, crossing the short distance between you and bending down to kiss you.

You were once again reminded how little he was like Satoru.

This was starving, filled with a hunger, a fever that Satoru's lazy kisses lacked. He had kissed you like he had all the time in the world. Sukuna kissed you like there wasn't nearly enough.

Sucking on your bottom lip and cradling your cheek, tugging your hair while murmuring your name. Hard and soft and everything in-between.

You weren't fully aware how you ended up on the bed, too distracted by the heat of his palms on your skin hiking up your dress to notice until your back was on the mattress, the frame whining under your combined weight.

"Sukuna," You breathed, about to ask him to roll over so you could do what you'd done so many times for Satoru, but then he was on his knees, peeling your little lace underwear down your legs. "W-what are you doing?"

You could feel his smirk against your skin when he tailed kisses up the inside of your thighs.

"Taking care of you."

He was two days from losing his damn mind. Or maybe it'd been gone from the moment he realized you were.

Months. It'd been months and he still hadn't found you.

Satoru had searched every inch of the palace personally. Commanded a task force to look for you, scouring through homes and ransacking businesses.

The tracker in the necklace only lead them to a goddamn trash can.

You'd throw away his love for you just like that.

Too bad, really. Because he couldn't do the same to his affection for you.

You just needed to remember how much he'd done for you. How much he loved you. Because once he had you again, he wasn't letting go.

Surely, something had driven you away. Or someone has convinced you to leave him.

There was no way you'd do it on your own.

Stealing his fucking stuff and drugging his tea?

His pet wouldn't dare.

So who the fuck had gotten to you when he wasn't paying attention? Who dared to sneak in and slip free your leash right under his nose? He'd be sure to return the favor.

He was chasing another lead, following the trail of a criminal who allegedly was known for distributing stolen goods in black markets. Satoru had to personally torture a pompous prick of a merchant to even get that much information.

As if there was someone actually scarier than him.

He honestly thought it'd be another dud until Ijichi stopped the carriage to give the horses a break and he stepped out to see his scrawny driver chatting with some disgustingly dirty locals.

They didn't know who he was, although he guessed they would soon enough when he inevitably took over their pitiful excuse of a land they still had the audacity to call a kingdom.

"Have you guys seen a man? Around my height? Pink hair? A beautiful young woman with him?" Satoru called out, refusing to step down into the dirt and gravel and mess up his shoes.

"Oh, um, sure, a day or two ago," One of them quickly replied.

"You're sure?" He frowned, squinting at them like he could discern whether or not they were lying.

"I mean, he was a bit taller than you-"

The first one elbowed the other to shut up before interrupting, "They were going that way."

He thanked them, plastering on a polite smile before slamming the carriage door shut behind him.

Perhaps you hadn't left him to rot and care for himself. You hadn't just deserted him.

You were probably kidnapped.

Waiting for him to come to your rescue.

His princess wasn't in a tower though, no, you were in bed.

Another man's head - between your thighs.

Squirming around while his hands clawed at your hips, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him and chasing your climax. What sounds were you making? Moaning and whimpering for someone else like a whore?

He watched through the window, unable to move. Stuck on the way the man's tongue slipped over your cunt, how you cried out when his mouth wrapped around your swollen bud.

Anyone could see you if they passed by. Not that you seemed to care. Too busy getting serviced to be aware that you were putting on a show.

Those pretty lips of yours were gasping for air, open and sucking it in when you should be sucking him off. Not in this rundown village letting some street scum taste your precious pussy. He didn't give a shit what rusted heirloom those morons ransacked and ruined. Except for stealing you.

His prized possession was priceless. Although, he was sure he'd find a way to make them pay.

And your punishment?

Well, it'd be more personal.

It wasn't Sukuna's arms you woke up in.

Body sluggish and sore, but when you tried to open your eyes, it was only black. After a few panicked seconds you realized someone blindfolded you. You guessed by the lingering exhaustion in your body, you'd been drugged too.

You called out to Sukuna, but the only answer you got was the creaking of carriage wheels and the crunching of gravel beneath them.

It took you longer than it should've to figure out what happened through your broken and hazy thoughts.

Satoru had come back for you.

Probably used the same trick with the tea you used on him, maybe paid someone to slip it into your food or drink at the place you'd been staying at.

He wasn't there. But you recognized the voice of his typical driver when the carriage stopped to feed the horses.

The trip to return you to the palace was unpleasant.

Confined to small spaces for most of it, always locked up in handcuffs or blindfolded even during the voyage back. Barely being fed enough to go on, offered scraps that were never rotten enough to make you sick, but foul tasting.

It was particularly humiliating to be paraded back through the village handcuffed, lead back through the main street as some new cruel punishment, sketches of you still stuck to building with the word missing scribbled at the top of each one.

You guessed they'd have to rip those down now.

For two days, you were bound and gagged in some rat-infested dungeon in the depths of the palace. They tried to nip at your feet, only dissuaded by your week attempts to kick with your ankles still tied in rough ropes.

Listening to someone being tortured down the hall, unable to make out much in the dim candlelight, only pray that it wasn't him.

You supposed it was probably time to start praying for yourself too.

"My poor pet," A familiar voice cooed, a shadow crossing in front of the bars while you shivered. "Look at you."

Pathetic. Definitely dirty and disgusting. Dirt sticking to your skin and twigs probably still tangled in your hair. The only baths you got lately had been getting doused in freezing salt water.

And then in the low flickers of the candle, you saw him, your stomach churning at just how clean he was. As perfect as the day you left him.

It wasn't pity in his eyes though, it was excitement. Amused to have his plaything back, even if it'd almost been broken.

"They want me to cut your hands off," Satoru sighed, pausing for dramatic effect, watching you flinch and shrink back, not that you could move much.

You tried to make a sound, muffled and weak. You'd beg him if you had to.

He knew it too.

"But even though you betrayed me," He murmured, making sure the word felt like a stab, guilt piercing through you as he mulled over an offer. "I'm still willing to pardon you."

You waited for the catch you knew was coming.

He unlocked the door to the cell, pushing it open with ease, striding over to where you were curled on the ground. Satoru clicked his tongue in disappointment at your sorry state, bending down and grabbing your chin to tilt your head side to side, shaking his head at the way your spit had soaked through the gag, the tears pricking at your eyes.

And even though somewhere in the back of your mind that he put you here, he still was framing himself as the hero plucking you free from it.

"There's one condition," He murmured, slowly pinching the thick fabric to loosen it before pulling it down from your mouth to hang around your neck.

For a second, you had the grim thought of a noose, a fleeting moment where you could do nothing but hope Sukuna was spared from whatever they had previously planned for you.

You didn't even mind if he sold you out if it meant that he made it out of this safe.

"What?" You croaked, voice raw and raspy.

"You won't ever leave the palace again."

It wasn't as bad as you anticipated. You expected him to be angrier, more upset with you for abandoning him.

"Okay," You mumbled, accepting his terms.

You probably should've thought harder about that.

But then he was pulling a knife out from a sheath on his thigh, cutting your restraints and freeing you before you could take it back.

You stilled, not entirely convinced he wouldn't cut you you too, but suddenly you were being lifted from the floor, cradled against his chest like you were his bride instead of a burden.

This time, you were spared the indignity of an audience when he brought you back to his chambers.

Your roles reversed as he prepared a bath for you, insisting that you have a sip of tea and nibble on a snack already waiting on a table for you. The water was warm when he ushered you in, scrubbing your skin clean and washing away all the grime, feeling raw by the time he finished. Smelling like his soap and shampoo as he worked his fingers through the knots in your hair. He poked at the scrapes and bruises left on you, sighing like a parent admonishing a child before he finally picked you up out of it and used a towel to dry you off.

The new knowledge that he'd always been capable of taking care of someone stung. You supposed he never had any interest until you were no longer there.

"I'm sorry for lea-" You awkwardly started in a low whisper.

He shushed you.

You didn't know how to act around this new him. How to be the new you when your body was begging you to give back into his hands as he dressed you up. It wasn't your old uniform.

It was barely even clothes.

A thin and sheer dress that left little to the imagination, clinging to your cleavage and short enough he barely went past your ass. The fabric was more expensive than anything else you ever wore, reflective when the sun shone on it through his oversized windows.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to fetch much for you in this," You tried to joke, hesitantly looking up at him. There was a wild look in his eyes there hadn't been before, something you only noticed now that you were so close to him. The unsettling thought occured that maybe it had always been there, but you were too lovestruck to pay it any mind.

"You won't be fetching anything," Satoru casually said, fixing the strap of your dress and guiding you over to his bed without even elaborating.

"What?" You blinked.

"You said you wouldn't leave," He shrugged, like it shouldn't be a surprise to you.

It was only then you noticed what was new in his room.

A thick iron chain now clasped to his bed and at the end, and sitting on the pillow you used to rest your head on, a fucking collar.

You froze.

"What do you think?" He innocently asked, moving your hair way from your throat with a soft hum. "Made this one just for you. Bet it'll be a bit harder to throw this one away."

You were wrong.

Satoru was pissed. Just hiding it behind his pretty face, his practiced friendliness.

His fingers traced a line down your arm, goosebumps raising with his touch.

"What will it be? You wanna stay with me? Or go back downstairs?" He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of your shoulder. As if downstairs didn't actually mean dungeon.

What scared you wasn't your answer. But how easily you made it, how much of you was still attached to him, how of a hold he had on you that a few stray touches and the purr of his voice had your thighs squeezing together.

"You."

He just laughed.

You let him lock the collar around your neck.

Thick fingers skimming over your much thinner skin, feeling the tendons go taut as you swallowed hard. There was the loud clink of the chain, the heavy metal immediately weighing your head down the second he stopped holding it on, settling uncomfortably on your collarbones. Reflexively, you reached up to touch it, panic setting in at being confined. Feeling around for some weak spot, touching the lock just for your stomach to drop at the realization there wasn't any escaping this.

Willingly, you walked into your own cage.

You were trapped.

Condemned to the same room you'd spent years of your life coddling him in. Where you supposed you'd be serving your time in, despite your lack of a trial.

You'd been sentenced to a life of a different type of servitude.

Maybe it hadn't set in, but you still couldn't stop yourself from looking up at him like he saved you. That you'd loved Satoru before. You could convince yourself to love him again. After all, hadn't he done this just to have you?

"This was what you wanted. Right, sweetheart?" He hummed, caressing your cheek softly.

A growing numbness had started to harden over your heart, nodding slowly as your hand dropped down to the bed, glancing around to see how long the chain was. It looked like you could probably make it through to his attached bathroom, but the door to the hall was too far away. What did it matter when stepping foot outside would mean getting arrested again?

He tugged on the chain, making you jolt forward with a gasp.

"Just gonna be us now," He promised. "Always."

"I thought you were getting married," You heard yourself mutter, still not entirely present, a little detached from the reality it felt like you'd been dropped into the second the collar was locked around your throat.

"Where'd you hear that?" He cocked his head to the side, amused by the hint of jealousy in your words.

You clamped your lips shut, unwilling to admit you looked through his stuff.

He chuckled at you anyway, stroking your hair like you were just some stray he'd taken in.

"Don't worry, princess," He mocked. "You don't need to think about anything anymore. There was a proposal, but I rejected it."

"Why?" You whispered.

"Unlike you, I wouldn't throw what we have away for a stranger," He wryly replied, another pointed jab that succeeded in making you feel like shit.

Should you feel guilty?

What really was there to throw away?

"I'm sorry," You murmured anyway, barely managing to meet his accusatory stare.

He waited for more, for you to beg or cry about it.

But the only tears you had in you weren't for him.

"Was your family upset with you?" You asked instead. "Or did any of the lords give you trouble?"

"Sure, but I killed them," He shrugged, as if he said something so simple - "I mean, some of the useful ones are imprisoned, but still-"

He saw the way your mouth fell open, panic-stricken but painfully aware there was no place in this palace or outside of it to run to. Not that you were sure you would even if you could.

"Don't be scared," He dryly chuckled, dragging a thumb over your cheek. Soft. Unscarred.

"Your parents," You started to sputter.

"They were problems," He condescendingly corrected you.

You reluctantly dragged your stare up past his eyes, only now realizing the crown atop his head was no longer the same one as before.

No, it was bigger, crafted for a king.

Your prince had overthrown his father for the throne.

There was no one above him now.

And it didn't take long for you to get used to being underneath him again.

Time slipped away from you, the days dragging by when you were confined to the bed most of the time, the collar making moving too much inconvenient and uncomfortable. All you had to look forward to was him.

Growing accustomed to him holding you at night, following whatever schedule he saw fit and falling back into old habits. Picking out his clothes and drying his hair for him, cleaning his room just for something to do on the days where he'd leave you there for hours. You still had yet to have sex, but you figured it was just a matter of time.

What he was waiting for, you were clueless.

It hurt your feelings more than it should've, guilt chewing on your self-esteem, eating away at it. Did he think you were dirty now? Tainted?

You were just now realizing how much more there was to him you were completely unaware of.

He hadn't exactly forgiven you, but he was pretending to. Kissing you like he used to, holding you in the same places, just stopping short of heavy petting.

The idea he'd killed his one family was taunting you, how easily he spoke of it, like it hadn't affected him at all. That he'd done it all in your name.

As if it all was some act of devotion.

What haunted you more was how flattered a sick sliver of you found it.

Listening to him describe in detail while he brushed and styled your hair one morning, as if he was discussing lunch plans.

"They did have a point," He hummed, carefully sliding a pin into place.

"What?" You swallowed hard, the collar shifting and irritating your skin while you studied the makeup products he'd bought for you scattered across the counter.

"I do need an heir," He sighed.

The implication was obvious.

He couldn't be serious.

You were chained to his fucking bed. A prisoner in a pretty dress. A peasant compared to him. There was no way he meant-

"You'd be safe in here," He murmured. "No one would be able to touch you or the baby."

"Satoru," You quietly spoke back, trying not to sound too against it without letting him know you didn't want a fucking baby to destroy the already fragile relationship you'd been attempting to rebuild with him.

"Master," He corrected you, and you felt ill.

It was too much.

"What?" You breathed, waiting for him to say it was a joke. That all of this was. That his parents would walk in with a cake and he'd take the chains off and you could all laugh at you for falling for it.

He pulled something out of his pocket, a small ring you recognized as his mom's. You didn't say a word when he slipped it on your fourth finger.

For some reason, it felt heavier than the collar around your neck.

There was no proposal. Just mutual understanding of what it meant.

"I got you something else," He changed the subject, leaning down to murmur in your ear. "Get on the bed."

You were just glad he didn't ask you to crawl, but you weren't sure what to do once you climbed back on, ending up sitting on the edge. He was quick to readjust you, pushing your stomach down on the mattress and ass in the air, unmoving while he tied your hands behind your back.

Part of you questioned if this was it, if he was finally going to fuck you or if this was just another punishment disguised as foreplay.

Satoru walked to the door - and left.

It felt like he was gone forever, but it was more like fifteen minutes when you heard the hinges creak, turning your head to look at him.

He wasn't alone.

Sukuna was behind him.

Your heart shattered. All the thoughts you'd been burying, all the hopes you'd been holding onto crushed by the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, barely able to even take steps forward, Satoru happily holding the chain to tug him in.

He dragged an armchair over, pushing him down in it.

"Did you miss him?" He asked you, waiting for your reply with those feral eyes that you'd begun to fear.

"Sa-" You stopped yourself, voice shaking as you tried to find the shred of courage you had left to protect Sukuna, pushing aside whatever sick and twisted feelings you still had for Satoru. "Please don't hurt him, okay? He didn't do anything. Everything was my fault."

"He touched something that belongs to me," Satoru spoke so calmly, but you couldn't miss the hatred in his voice. He walked to the side of the bed, bunching the slip you were wearing up past your ass to where your hands were bound. Nudging your thighs further apart just to slip his hand between them, rubbing his palm over your panties. "Tasted it."

And then he pulled his hand away, walking back over to Sukuna, grabbing his strong jaw between his fingers and forcing it open.

You really almost threw up.

He cut out Sukuna's tongue.

What was there looked excruciating, a still-healing wound that must've happened days ago. But Sukuna didn't react, didn't offer him the satisfaction of it, his face set in a familiar disdainful state.

You couldn't speak. Weren't sure what you'd even say if you could.

There was no sorry that would give him his tongue back.

"What do you think, pet?" He mocked.

Something damp was on your face, but you couldn't even wipe the tears away. Hands straining against their restraints, wishing you could break free for even a moment to touch him one last time.

"You said I shouldn't think," You reminded him, a poor attempt at not giving him the reaction he wanted either.

Satoru wasn't fazed, glancing back at Sukuna with a smirk.

"I'd take her tongue too, but I can think of a better use for it," He smugly winked, and Sukuna took the bait, struggling against his restraints, enraged by the obvious implication. "You wanna see my favorite trick of hers?"

"Let him go," You murmured. "Please, Toru."

You hadn't used the nickname since you were kids, and it was more effective than you expected.

He stood up straight, his attention snapping back to you.

"Why should I?" He expected a real reason. Well, he expected one specific one.

Most likely the whole reason he even bothered dragging him out from whatever cell he'd been keeping Sukuna in.

You hesitated over the words that'd really condemn you, briefly glancing to Sukuna for even just a snippet of the safety he used to give you. His eyes told you to suck it up and stop feeling sorry for yourself. To survive.

"I'll give you whatever you want," You muttered.

You didn't want to even whisper the word.

But it wasn't hard to imagine what you meant when you only had one thing to give.

"Say it then," Satoru dared you.

"I'll give you a heir," You swallowed hard. You didn't even know if you'd hate him for it, if it was something else you'd teach yourself to accept.

Really, he could take what he wanted from you at any point, but he wanted you to choose it. To pick him.

If Sukuna could talk, you knew he'd be shouting.

But you weren't the only one here Satoru was determined to embarrass.

"Isn't she gonna be cute? All stuffed full and swollen?" He leaned down to mutter in Sukuna's ear. "Shame you won't be around to see it."

You weren't sure you could even be grateful when he dragged him away, unable to stop yourself from crying the second the door closed behind them.

The prince you'd once thought would slay dragons for you putting away a man who acted more like a king than he ever could.

Satoru's mouth latched onto your neck the second he returned, murmuring beautiful words, like he could talk enough to make you overlook the humiliation burning in your gut even after he cut the ropes restraining you free.

Telling you he loved you (he loved the power he held over you), that he was yours (you were his), that he'd give you anything (but only if you gave him everything).

And when you had sex, you still kissed him back, let his tongue slip between your teeth with the disturbing reminder Sukuna didn't have his anymore, despising yourself for letting go of him to live through this. Hating the shadows inside you that wanted Satoru. That whispered to you that no one could love you like he did. No one else would burn the rest of the world just to have you to hold.

You were just as disgustingly devoted to him. Maybe better at hiding it.

Able to shove it down and suffocate it when he wasn't around.

But the second his mouth was on you, the second his fingers plucked off your underwear or slotted themselves inside you, you were putty in his hand. Happy to wear his collar and call him whatever he wanted.

You were both ashamed of it and unable to shut it off completely.

All the confidence Sukuna granted you left with him.

There was nothing you could do but hope Satoru kept his word and let him go.

"Did you set him free?" You barely managed to work up the strength to murmur the question a few days later, fiddling with the chain attached to your collar as Satoru readjusted, his head resting in the crook of your neck and his cock buried inside you, cum leaking out into your thighs.

"I will once you're pregnant," He murmured, leaving a kiss on your collarbone. "You can even watch."

You had a feeling that really meant something else entirely.

But even when your hands weren't tied, it felt like they were.

There wasn't a single part of you he didn't own. He had his seal stamped just above your ass, branding you as his so he could see the permanent reminder of who you belonged to every time he fucked you from the back. His kisses littering your body, the expensive silks and slips he dressed you up in hardly ever covering any of it.

But hadn't you signed up for it?

This was the deal he gave you - the one you took.

"I might be late today," He murmured as you fixed his crown. Had it been a couple days? Or a couple weeks? What difference did it make?

"Okay," You yawned, exhaustion lingering in your bones. It'd been getting harder to get out of the bed in the mornings, body sore from being bent over and broken in.

"I'll bring food," He kissed your cheek, squeezing your ass one last time before heading out the door.

The lock clicked behind him.

You dragged yourself back to bed, curling up and lulled back to sleep by the scent of sex and him. You weren't sure how long you'd been out for when you were being shaken awake.

A hand grabbed your waist, tugging at your limp form. You didn't bother moving, let yourself be tugged around, eyes still shut from your attempt to sleep when he suddenly shook you hard enough they shot open.

Squinting up at Satoru only to realize it wasn't him.

You made a pathetic little sound - half a squeak, half a strangled gasp.

Sukuna flipped you over, thick brows furrowed together as he frowned at the heavy iron collar around your throat. No chains attached to him this time, no handcuffs or restraints to weigh him down, although you could see how they had scarred his skin, raw red marks left where they'd been. You were terrified to know what your neck must look like. You hadn't made it a habit to look in mirrors lately, not wanting to see what your reflection had to say about you.

He didn't say anything.

Couldn't.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him how he managed to get free before you remembered he probably couldn't answer anything outside of shaking his head.

Blood was smeared across his cheek.

He yanked a hair pin out of your hair, bending it out and tilting your head so he could jam it in a key hole you couldn't see.

Every second that passed by where was was working the lock and you stared at him, trying to swallow your hope was torture.

He was struggling with it, a deep crease forming between his brows with frustration.

"You should save yourself," You whispered, reaching out to touch him. Skimming your finger over his jaw and nose, brushing your thumb over his lip. One last time was all you wanted. Maybe the universe had answered your request.

Sukuna rolled his eyes at you.

"I'm being serious," You huffed in a heated whisper. "I'll make sure he won't chase you and-"

He covered your mouth with one of his huge palms, flashing you a glare to shut up so he could focus.

You pouted, but kept your lips sealed, struggling not to say anything when you heard it.

The faint click.

He actually did it.

Yanking the collar off and throwing it on the bed like it was diseased, helping you off and grimacing at how unsteady you were on your feet.

He rummaged through the drawers and threw one of your old dresses Satoru thankfully still had at you, turning away so you could throw it on.

You hesitated by the threshold, glancing back over your shoulder at the room. The expensive rugs and the canopy over the bed, the details you'd discarded before.

But Sukuna held out his hand.

It was just up to you to take it.

alright guys it's up to YOU actually

^its supposed to say GOOD ending lmfao but I can't change it lol sorry guys brain is fried haha my apologies for any other typos/autocorrect stuff I missed <3

#satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #beprecs

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toodymcdoody · 1 day ago

Text

Veiled Secrets

art is by @3-aem they're insanely talented 🥹

pairings- emperor! gojo x arranged empress! reader

summary -you've been set to marry the new emperor Satoru Gojo, but he wants nothing to do with all of that, he doesn't even come to your first meeting - rude! No, he must bathe with his concubines, but when he sees you for the first time and doesn't even know you're his wife? Everything shifts, but it turns out he doesn't know that you're not happy to be here either. Leaving your past love behind and everything you know for a foreign country, just to be unwanted by your new 'husband' is almost enough to break you. You're ready to go through the motions, play your role, but do you really know who Emperor Gojo is?

contents/warnings - heavy angst, depression, enemies to lovers, longing, mutual pining, explicit smut, back and forth games, court tactics, Satoru being a hoe, reader missing her lover Suguru, a fuck ton of drama and games, he falls hard. This chap - oral (m and f receiving), fingering, angst and jealousy, Satoru kinda being a dick but also a consent king, masturbation (m), mentions of sex with others- 11k WC - based on emperor! gojo headcanons

This one the poll as the thank you for 20k followers!! Thank you all sm 💗 If you enjoy, rbs and comments are so appreciated!

Part One

The pretty, intricate tea cup swirls with amber liquid, you’re gently spinning your little gold spoon in it, as you wonder at the time. It’s your second cup of tea, as you wait for him - your husband to be, the Emperor Gojo. You don’t know anything about him aside from tales of his military exploits, and you have heard he’s very young still. Some say he’s handsome, but you can’t say you care.

The memories of the love you left, the family you left behind, to now be surrounded by strangers, was brutal, lingering pain mixing with the terror of being in a new country. You are trying to understand their customs, their cultures, luckily you know their language, but you miss your home terribly. You miss feeling safe in the castle you grew up in.

Mostly, you miss him - your guard, the man you’d just finally started to kiss, he’d started to explore your body when you two had the briefest of moments. You thought you’d run away with him, only to be dragged here, without a chance to do more than leave him a letter of farewell, and now you’re waiting for a man for - it must have been an hour - sipping on your third cup of tea.

Everything is immaculate in this place, your chambers, the pavilion itself, covered in blues and whites, the colors of the Gojo family. You were greeted friendly enough, shown your new ladies in waiting, as yours were not allowed to come, the palace itself was under constant high security. They didn’t welcome outsiders, and you can tell they don’t welcome you.

Having been whispered about, talked about as you walked through the lively pavilions, passing many workers and ladies who bow to you, before whispering behind your back. It’s as if everyone smiles to your face, then starts gossiping - and god do you hear all of it, even now, the three ladies standing behind you murmur to each other behind their fans.

He’s an hour late, he’s not coming!

What an insult… he’s probably with his favorite concubine!

Concubine Lola, it must be.

What if we worked for her - her pavilion-

“Could you all please stop?” Your words have the three girls gasping, you don’t even look back at them, tracing your fingers along the pretty rose patterns of your tea cup, of the little dish under it. You scoop some of the honey in a little dish, watching it roll gently into the tea, still steaming up with puffs of condensation.

They quiet down, or their whispers are quieter you should say, as you sit there in your immaculate gowns, the highest of fashion. You were done up with make up, your hair piled high in the latest fashion with the prettiest blue pin that had been bestowed upon you from him - from Gojo - through a servant of his.

Yet, here you are, alone.

Your mind drifts as you wait, as you eye the elaborate tarts that the cook has whipped up, sitting there untouched, your tummy hurting from the nausea rolling over you in waves. How could you just leave Suguru behind? Did he get your letter? He always knew there wasn’t much hope, but you were the one littered with wild ideas, the hopeful one.

He kissed your neck the last time you saw him, toying with you under your skirts - the style back home was many voluminous ones, and he had no problem finding your clit under them. He’d drank in your quiet little whimpers as his violet eyes looked down at you, his other hand at the nape of your neck when you’d said it - I love you.

He had kissed you quiet, having you cum for the first time, the memories make you heat up and blush. You’d both had to separate, and that’s the night you found out you had to leave your home forever. Not just another territory or land, no - an entire country, a five day trip on ship and two days on land to get here. A man who clearly has no interest to even show up.

Suddenly, a beautiful woman with long white locks comes in, smiling kindly at you, she has brilliant blue eyes - so blue they’re enchanting. You quickly recover your thoughts, standing as well, palms just a little sweaty as you bow your head, and she does as well, decked in the color blue, her hair falling just a bit in front of a beautiful face.

“Former Empress Gojo,” she greets then, she comes over to kindly take your hands, you smile nervously. “I’m so sorry, my son is… occupied… and will not make the meeting.”

“Oh, I see,” you are seething - can he not walk a few steps to greet you after the week it took? But you hold it all in, keeping your composure and smiling, as her ladies whisper behind her to your ladies - god the court is gossipy. “Is he well, your majesty?”

“Don’t be so formal, I’ll be your mother in law soon.” She kindly smiles, but you hear the whispers.

He’s with all of them?

At once? Scandalous!

Do they get along that well?

“Ladies,” his mother chides them, like a sweet mother duck, and they instantly quiet, she looks at you, tilting her head. “You are most beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you Lady Gojo.” You bow your head again.

“And such manners, you’ll do well.” You wish her words made you feel better, but they don’t.

You just want to fucking go home.

But you put on your fake smile, you’ve done it your entire life as a princess, you’re truly just moving from one gilded cage to another, that’s all your home was - despite the love and friends you built. You had no freedom, and you won’t have any here, where at least your parents were doting, they used you as a political pawn, such is what happens to women.

You thought you could really run away, how foolish a thought. It sinks in your mind like a cruel joke, as the former Empress Gojo goes on, she’s so kind, you can feel it’s not fake. It seems genuine, her understanding, like she’s been here before - clearly from some different land judging by her unique looks. You wonder what she thought when she had to go through this.

“I will have our attendant Ijichi show you around, he’s very knowledgeable about everything here, moreso than even my son, don’t tell him I said so.” She laughs a bit at that, you give her a perfunctory smile.

“You are most gracious, Lady Gojo.”

Soon a tired looking man walks in, but he seems sweet and kind, smiling and bowing his head. He wears a little monocle on one eye, wearing the traditional dark blue robes you’ve seen other attendants and guards wear. He takes your hand and bows over it, some inky black locks falling over his brow.

“My lady,�� his voice is quiet and calm. Aside from Lady Gojo, this may be the only other person you have had a decent sense of character from. “It’s an honor.”

“Hello, Mr. Ijichi, I’m excited to learn more about the palace.” You smile and he nods his head a bit.

“I’ll show you around so you know where to go, I’m so sorry his majesty… was… occupied.” The snickering of the six girls earns Gojo’s mother’s scowl, and they quickly hush, but you see a blush on Ijichi’s face, a frown.

“It’s quite understandable, he must be busy. I look forward to meeting him,” you’re lying through your teeth, but you know it’s the correct move, as he smiles with an exhale of relief. It wasn’t his fault his Emperor was seemingly a man whore. “I’d love a tour.”

“Then let us go.” You say your farewells, and Ijichi walks you outside, his hands together under his large sleeves, and you notice many onlookers whispering.

She’s so beautiful.

She is, but can she catch his attention?

He’s clearly not interested, despite her beauty.

Emperor Gojo is about more than looks.

He is quite quirky.

“Do they always gossip like this?” Your question earns a surprised laugh from Ijichi, he seems stoic but his smile is sweet.

“They never stop.”

“God!”

He chuckles again, and you find yourself comfortable with him - when you learn he’s twenty seven however, you have to wonder how hard Gojo works this poor man. Five years older than you and he seems much older, perhaps Gojo was every bit the tough ruler he was rumored to be.

“This is the bathhouse, if you wish you can bathe here instead of your chambers, it is renowned to be one of the best.” You look curiously, remembering the last time you bathed was before you came here, you’d die for one right now.

“Are they?”

“Indeed, they are. Here is one of the temples,” he’s pointing as you two walk, you incline your head at passersby, all while walking right next to him. “This one is a sacred temple from many centuries ago.”

“It’s quite beautiful,” you eye it, truly majestic in front of you, with its gorgeous architecture quite different from many. “Can I go there?”

“Unfortunately only men can enter,” he blushes then. “I’m sorry my lady.”

“No, that’s quite alright.”

“This temple,” he points to another distant one, as the sun warms you over the thick silk brocade of your yukata, and a few pretty butterflies flutter by. You focus on where he’s pointing, a large dark green building with curved roofs in the distance. “You could enter with your future husband, however.”

“Ah,” nice, you could enter a temple with the man you don’t know, the one too good to meet you for tea. “And this building?”

“It’s the sapphire pavilion,” he trails off again, clearing his throat. “It’s Concubine Lola’s pavilion.”

“I see.” You remember hearing earlier, she’s his favorite, her pavilion is perhaps more opulent than any of the others you’ve seen, second only to yours.

“Yes, it is quite lovely I suppose.” He seems unimpressed, eyeing you then. “I believe Emperor Gojo will… enjoy your pavilion, if that’s not too bold to say.”

It’s your turn to blush, looking down now, hands in front of you as you two walk along the soft grassy knowl, and he lays one of his outer robes down for you to sit. You smile and thank him. “I don’t know if I agree.”

“I have known Master Gojo my entire life, I do believe it’s true,” his soft words make you relax just a bit. “Master Gojo is young and… difficult at times.”

“Perhaps I wish I’d have you for a fiance.”

“My lady!”

“You’re very sweet.” You’re giggling behind your hand as he blushes.

“I’m no Emperor Gojo, but thank you for the kind words.”

“Ah, well I don’t know him yet. I know no one here,” your words get trapped in your throat, you watch the hustle of the servants as they work, cleaning or gardening, the merchants taking down their carts across the way in a little circular shop, while a butterfly lands on your knee. “Oh look.”

“They say it’s good luck, my lady.” He smiles kindly again, reaching a finger out for the butterfly to go to.

“He likes you.” He laughs a bit, sighing.

“Insects do.”

“They’re good judges of character.”

“He will like you, I know it,” you’re unconvinced, it’s as if Ijichi feels sorry and is trying to cheer you up, but you nod a bit to appease him. He stands and holds out a hand, helping you up. You brush yourself off and hand him his now crumbled robe, which he folds over an arm. “Let us go back.”

You miss him already when he leaves, the kindness of him was so welcome in this place of deceit, of fakeness, of lies. Everyone seemed out for something, you suppose home wasn’t much different, but to the extent the ladies gossiped it was utterly ridiculous.

“I’d like to go to the bathhouse, Miwa would you take me?” You ask one of the girls, she’s a little quieter than the other two, a little more friendly.

“Of course I can, my lady, but also you could have a bath run?”

“I hear they’re very nice, and I’d love a chance to see.” She nods, grabbing a gown for you, as the other two whisper again, earning your eye roll. “I brought some hair soap, let me fetch it.”

“What’s hair soap?” She asks, you show her now and she seems curious.

“I have several if you’d like to try.”

“If it makes my hair that beautiful, yes!” She’s smiling warmly at you, now you feel just a little more comfortable, as she walks you through the massive doors, it’s dusk now, the sky alit with purples and oranges. “Emperor Gojo is the most handsome man in the land.”

“Is he now,” you really don’t give a fuck, to be quite honest. Suguru was a beautiful man, his violet eyes, his little lazy smile, elegant fingers that would hold your hand in secret any chance he got. Gojo may be gorgeous, but you had him in your head, the man who loved you.

Well, you think he did?

He never got a chance to say if he did back or not, kissing you in that moment, the last moment you had. The nightmares over and over on the trip were enough to make you sick, you kept writing letters and burning them, not knowing how the fuck you’d ever get one to him in secret. Your parents were fond of him but never enough to match your station.

“What’s wrong, my lady?” You realize you’ve quit walking then, just standing there as the pain echoes.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little tired, Miwa.” She nods, and you enter the enormous bathhouse now, fragrant steam already pricking your nose as you two enter a room with several women changing.

You blush just a bit, things were more open here than back home, the girls are more friendly as they smile, and walk off, leaving you to have Miwa start undoing your obi, the delicate bands of silk. She’s slowly untying you until you’re bare, and then steps in front of you, holding the thin white shift out.

“We wear this?”

“You will, yes, attendants don’t bathe here, we go to a different area of the bathhouse.” She’s slipping it over your head, like a whisper of silk as it dances across your body, while Satoru is on the other side, being fed grapes and lavished on by his favorite girls, in lieu of meeting you.

Satoru Gojo’s kissing his favorite, Lola, her pretty lips dewy from the baths, as his other girls are brushing their hands all across his body. He’s chuckling a bit, trying to kiss every single one of the four girls now, they’re all touching him, massaging him, littering kisses on his body. The warm waters undulate against his skin, lapping around his chest as he sighs, his eyes shutting.

It’s almost good enough to forget the endless responsibilities he never fucking wanted, all the sweet scents and practiced touches of his concubines. If Satoru could say anything was a perk, it was the beautiful, voluptuous fucking concubines, as if they were all tailored to perfection. Their giggles get louder when he sucks one of their tits in his mouth, over the thin white material, the others clamoring over who got it next.

Even for an emperor, Satoru Gojo was bold.

Emperors did not lay with more than one concubine at once, it was not a harem after all, though in his travels he’d seen several of those. Now that seemed the way to do it, have a house full of beautiful girls that only fuck him, only want him. Utterly devoted, though these girls were in their own way, he also knew their power plays.

They all wanted one thing, Satoru to put babies in them, and well… he had not made that happen yet. Just two years into it, and young, it was normal, but Satoru made sure he didn’t have babies, pulling out strategically without them noticing, because he just wasn’t ready yet for more responsibility. Plus, once you had one heir, you needed a spare, and more and more with how fragile that could be.

He wanted to have a little more fun, but also he hates tradition, hates the duty disposed on him. War and battle were something he was inherently good at, but running things politically was outright boring. Much of that fun was coming to an end, with this mysterious fucking wife he was to marry in a few weeks time.

He knows he irritated his mother not showing up, but being fed grapes and having his dick sucked? Much better time spent in his opinion, than some meek little princess from far away. She'd likely be some perfectly trained airhead, all the broken betrothal before were just that, but apparently this one they would have no argument of.

He's not really curious about her, he supposes he'll have to see her soon, perhaps lay with her, then he'll come back to his other girls. Life is mostly good for him when he loses himself in them, in drinks and throwing elaborate parties, in forgetting the overwhelming duties that lie ahead.

Suddenly, the doors to the baths open, certain high ranking ladies could also come in, so he curiously looks over, to a sight that makes his heart pound in his fucking chest. She's beautiful, surely but he shouldn't be so affected, when her eyes catch his and he's dying to know just what's behind them.

Satoru just doesn't think that way.

You catch sight of him as Miwa undoes your hair fully, letting it fall and brush against bare shoulders, you feel exposed then, to his insanely bright eyes. He is as beautiful as they say, perhaps even moreso, the glimpses of the hard lines of his face, as the soft lanterns cast a glow above.

Surrounded by four beautiful women, but he's staring right at you instead. You figure he's curious who you are, and brush off the feeling. Miwa dampens your hair and proceeds to massage it in your scalp, you sigh at how good it feels, head falling back a bit, eyes fluttering shut.

Satoru can't take not knowing who you are one more moment.

“Who is she?” He asks Lola then, and she blinks a bit, tilting her head, her dark locks falling over a shoulder.

“I’ve never seen her, Gojo,” she looks at her scrutinizingly. “She is… perhaps going to fill Concubine Ana’s place?”

“I heard someone would be soon,” says Concubine Lara now. “She’s very beautiful.”

“She doesn’t look like she’s from here, however,” Lola says curiously. “Her attendant also looks unfamiliar.”

“Hmm.” He’s eyeing you carefully, as you step down into the waters, you dip your head back and then stand up, and that’s when he sees your entire body from that soaked, thin white material. It clings to every delicate line and curve of a body that makes him ache.

You’re so lovely, though you’re not even looking in his direction, leaning back against the wall and sighing, your breasts gently rising and falling, as if begging for his mouth, for his hands. He can’t help but be drawn to you, looking like some beautiful painting, serene and ever so precious, the need to cup your face was as big as his want to cup your tits.

He’s a lover of all beauty, he has four gorgeous concubines kissing all over him right now, but there’s something about you that leaves him breathless. God, he should feel truly sorry for whoever his wife would be with you here as well, another beauty but one that’s so perfect he can’t fucking speak or think.

His wife truly wouldn’t have a chance if he got you.

He steps away then, much to their displeasure, their pretty pouts, he smiles down at them. “Never fear, I want to find out who she is.”

“Of course, your majesty.” They all incline their heads, none of them were really jealous, though they all pouted a bit that he gave Lola some more attention.

It wasn't that Lola was more beautiful, she was very smart and enjoyed playing chess with him. So he tended to just be there more to hang out with her, having the nicest pavilion wasn't really him either, Lola just decorated the shit out of things and had everything immaculate with her staff.

Aside from that they all got along extremely well, and knew he'd marry. They were a little worried he'd spread his time between five of them, but they know he's proficient at managing them all.

Now, eyes locked on your perfect frame, he walks through the warm waters, feeling them softly ripple as he pushes through the water, until you feel his movements, opening your eyes.

Your eyes, the way they look at him, unreadable and so beautiful, he puts on a charm, a smile, but you just blink, water droplets falling from them as you straighten up, running your hands through silken strands. “I’m emperor Gojo.”

You just eye him further, saying nothing, as he blinks in confusion at you. You turn a bit, sighing, the sadness he hadn’t noticed now prevalent on your face, before your eyes return to his. “An honor, your majesty.”

“Please don’t be formal.” Maybe he is like his mother a bit you muse, taking in the beautiful blue eyes even closer, far too blue, like the sky but with a myriad of shades, some you’ve never seen, framed by thick snowy lashes.

He is a beautiful man, by far, but one that has no interest to you. He seems content with his four concubines, who are whispering right now about you behind his back. “Emperor, then?”

“Call me Gojo, are you… here to fill one of the new concubine positions?” You smile a bit at that, a mean quirk of your lips.

Is this what held him up from tea, fucking four women in the baths? Even for royalty this was quite too much. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“God, what a shame,” he steps closer, until his fingers brush against your cheeks, the sensation feels better than you wished it did. You wished it felt horrible, a betrayal of your love, but the touch makes you tremble, and you can’t lie and say its with disgust.

Satoru is enamored when he touches you under the water then, big hand on the small of your back pressing just so, taking it over as he steps closer, so tall and imposing in the water. Your breasts brush against his abdomen, as your breaths quicken, a mix of irritation and something more you don't want to admit, your nipples pressing on his skin as clear arousal happens from his proximity.

You look down shyly, studying his chest, seeing scars scattered across it. You've heard a lot of his military prowess, but didn’t expect him to be that involved. You almost trace a finger across one of them, raised up and pink, before trailing your gaze back to his eyes, so intense to look at it’s difficult, but it’s also impossible to look away once they’ve caught you.

You both stay there for a moment in the quiet, saying nothing and just looking at each other, when he leans down, pressing you along the warmth of the hard wall behind you. One of his long thighs presses against your heat, and you hate how your body reacts, how your cunt pulses around nothing, tummy clenching then, you know the feeling of desire, so you can’t even lie to yourself.

It feels like such a betrayal of the one you loved, of Suguru, what was he doing now? You cannot be like this, and for a man who doesn't want to even know you, couldn’t even meet you. He made you look so stupid to everyone, and to what, be fed grapes by naked women? An action he can accomplish anytime.

You bite back a sigh, mind swirling, the steam of the water rising and entering your lungs, your heart fucking hammering. Satoru leans down further, too close, far too close, an arm on either side of you, strong arms bulging with muscles, veins raised under his pale white skin, shades of blue and green that you want to trail your fingertips across.

You must remember who you are, where you are.

There are no friends here, there is no love, lest you be so foolish, lest you be so enamored by pretty eyes, as if your love didn’t have those too. It’s one thing to do your duty, but your heart cannot fall prey to such tactics, he clearly is expert at them, every touch and look feels calculated, like a play unfolding, with the prettiest actor.

“Your majesty…” you trail off, this wasn’t appropriate behavior for him, was it? Perhaps it was, the man wants anything but his bride to be.

“Gojo,” he corrects, a soft chuckle then as he assesses your face at this angle, so tall over you. Satoru was taller than anyone, so it’s how he is, bigger, imposing, but it makes you feel even more fragile in his hold, the thoughts making his cock ache. “So fucking pretty, god.” He murmurs then, and earns your blush.

The outward praise and the lewd way he says it is too much, he chuckles as he sees it, flushed color on your cheeks, when his lips hover over yours now. You think for some insane moment he’ll kiss you. Your hands go to his chest, as if to stop him, when you feel his steady heart beat under your palm, his warm skin even hotter than the water.

“Can you at least tell me your name, mysterious girl?” He asks, and that’s when you snap out of it, for just a moment.

When you say it he immediately recognizes the name, faltering and stepping back, eyes wide, his lips parted as if he means to say something, but nothing comes out. You can’t help but smile, it’s a mean little smile, batting your lashes as you tilt your head, as if you’re stating something so casual, not the fact that you’re the very bride he’s avoiding.

“Indeed, it was such a shame you couldn't meet me for tea, your majesty.” His jaw clenches at that, as you watch him try to save face.

You can’t be his bride, you can’t be…

He knows then, the clear hurt on your face, the sound in your voice, that he did indeed say fuck tradition and miss meeting you to fuck his four girls instead. He didn’t think he’d care how you felt, he didn’t think it would affect him until he saw the lip you’re biting, the anger flashing in your eyes.

“I… well, I…” he’s trailing off, him, the emperor of the nation, lost to an angry little brat in the waters, one clearly relishing in this one moment. He glares now, feeling himself harder as you scowl, why are you so pretty like that!? “I was otherwise occupied.”

“Yes, indeed, I see you were otherwise occupied,” you eye the girls behind his shoulders, whispering to each other wildly, when you push him back, hands on his chest. “It's rude not to even meet me after I got dragged on a five day journey by ship, you know.”

He is eyeing your hands on his chest that he now pins there for a moment, gripping your delicate wrist with long fingers. It feels too good then, his hold on you, doing things to your body you don’t want to even try to comprehend. Your eyes lock again, as he speaks. “You're my... you can't be... you…”

A sigh escapes your lips, as you tug your hands back from his firm hold, before your dumb brain thinks about those long fingers one more moment. You lick your lips, feeling your throat has suddenly gone dry, nodding. “Yes, I'm your betrothed, I suppose this is our first meeting.”

“I suppose it is…” He trails off, brushing back strands of that silken white hair, looking down now at your body again, in a way that feels like he’s fucking touching you. Part of you wants to shrink back, but the other makes you stand firm, tilting your chin up and keeping eye contact.

“I'll leave you to your pretty concubines, I'm afraid I don't intend on becoming one.” You turn and climb up those steps, the slip forming to you like a goddess, as you turn him down.

No one has ever turned Emperor Gojo down, and not because of his power, his wealth, no everyone wanted him for so much more. His prowess in bed, his body, his face, his entire aura, yet here you are, turning and giving him a little smile as your attendant hands you a towel.

He repeats your name softly, you look back at him, smiling again, that mean little one he’d love to kiss off you, a thought that makes no fucking sense. He watches as those droplets fall from your curves, the material rippling and clinging to every part of you, fucking him up to distraction.

“Perhaps you'll make it to the wedding, your majesty,” you say, wrapping yourself up with the towel, and bowing - a mocking fucking bow that makes him glare right at you as you walk off.

He doesn’t even go back to the four girls waiting, he is so confused by what just happened, instead drying off and then sitting in the sauna, leaning his head back on one of the wooden benches. As if the steam and heat will just fucking sap whatever the fuck you just did to him away.

*****

It’s the day of your wedding to Emperor Gojo.

You’ve not seen him since that fateful meeting in the baths, and you’ve avoided him actively when you’ve run into him, every time you see him you either duck behind a pillar, a fruit stand, something. Once you couldn’t so you just inclined your head in a bow and continued, infuriating the living fuck out of him. He’s seen you hiding and ducking like a foolish child.

He doesn’t actively seek you out however, he doesn’t make any of the three meetings you’re supposed to have before marriage. So it’s both of you just avoiding each other like a plague, he’s laughing with that booming sound of his, throwing his head back as he walks arm in arm with his girls. You stay alone, just your attendants walking behind you.

People are spreading rumors about his clear lack of interest, and Satoru hears them frequently. When one of his concubines says something to the other about how he must not find you to his liking, he almost wants to laugh, because that sure the fuck wasn’t the case. If it were looks alone, you were the epitome of everything he finds attractive, but it’s more than that.

For the past few days his mind keeps fucking drifting to you, he can’t stand it truly, when he was getting his cock sucked by Lola and had to shut his eyes, wondering what it’d be like between your plush lips. He was so frustrated he couldn’t even keep it hard - and that has never happened to Emperor Gojo, notorious in fact for round after round.

Lola had been as perplexed by him at this development, but now when he walks past you and inhales your sweet scent, his cock is hard from that. Absolutely infuriating, he wonders if your country is one of witches truly, and you’re here to just fuck with him, ignoring him on top of it. Your chin up in the air, stubborn and rude as you walk by in those pretty robes.

It’s an agonizing few days, for Satoru, and a dreadful few days for you. All you can think of is Suguru, you keep writing and writing, knowing he’ll never see it, until your tears soak the ink on the paper. You’d hug your pillow in that huge bed, in that lonely room, hating yourself for even finding Satoru attractive, forcing those thoughts out of your head, so you can remember.

He didn’t want this anymore than you did.

The thoughts of that reign supreme now, that it wasn’t as if Satoru wanted this marriage, and in that way perhaps you two could find some common ground, some agreement that keeps the contact minimal. You’re knowledgeable about what your role is as a wife, how to serve him sexually and domestically, so you hope that will help you separate it all.

The only experience you had was Suguru, his loving kisses and his desperate tugs at your bodice, he’d slip a nipple into his mouth while hidden in the corners, behind the curtains, wherever he could get a moment. Brief, beautiful moments, where you fell deeper each time, that can’t just fade, it can’t just disappear.

To know you’ll watch your husband with several women, that he’ll not just sleep with them, but spend time with them, have babies with them, and you can’t even write the man you love is an even more bitter pill to swallow. You know it’s a man’s world, of course it is, but the cruelty there is a joke, at least back home men tried to keep their mistresses hidden.

You know Suguru would have never been that way.

You try to push past the hurt as you enter the immaculate hall where you are to bind yourself forever to a stranger. You walk quietly, looking at the man who doesn’t want to be here any more than you did, truly, eyeing the tall white haired man wearing his thick dark blue sokutai. It was not a traditional one, the robes altered to reveal far too much of his muscled chest, as Satoru liked to do you noticed.

He seemed to relish in how attractive everyone found him, a trait that just turned you off more truly, but you suppose none of it matters, this is all for political gain, for a show. There will be nothing between you two, even though with each step bringing you closer, you feel the pressure eating at you, you feel the walls closing the fuck in until you almost can’t move.

The eyes on you, the whispers, and now Satoru’s blue eyes drinking you in, you actually for one moment tremble, before putting on your fake fucking smile, the one that you practiced in the mirror. Making gracious head movements as your robes trail, whispers of silk and satin along the laid out rug you’re walking across, meeting his gaze finally.

Satoru’s heart hammers in his fucking chest as you come closer, as all of you enters his field of vision. To say you were beautiful before seems an understatement, now looking at you leaves him speechless, throat dry as you wear that beautiful sky blue ceremonial juunihitoe, layers of blue and white, embossed with silver flowers just flowing from your body.

His pulse races so badly he can hear the blood flow in his ears, swallowing nervously as you clutch your hands together until you’re in front of him. He tentatively takes your hand, swallowing it in his huge grip, fingers wrapping around your own, not saying anything, but looking at you so intensely. You see none of his concubines attended, perhaps they do not join such festivities.

You wonder if he can’t wait to go back, and you wonder if it bothers you either way, as the ceremony begins. It’s long and tiring, as they say the words that you both scarcely pay attention to, as they bond you together in a contract that is iron clan, that will never be something you can get out of. You feel your freedom - did you ever have it?- slip away with every word.

Satoru is surprisingly quiet, you’re not sure what you expected, something mocking or some sort of boredom, but he’s frowning, eyeing you over and over, as if searching for something. You wonder if he’s trying to find a flaw, or if he’s just trying to find something he might like about you enough to handle the times he would have to spend.

In the first month, he would have to spend all his time in this pavilion, not to say he would not go off and do things, but husbands - even emperors - were supposed to spend some time devoted to their new brides. You imagine he wouldn’t like it anymore than you would.

There is music playing, and beautiful dancers waving their fans, when you both sip on each of the three cups of sake, as is tradition, speaking the words. Satoru places his lips on one end of the little ceramic dish, then hands it to you, eyeing the red painted on your lips.

He notices how it shimmers, that your makeup has been done clearly, there's color under your eyes, a pinkish hue that makes them appear even prettier. He catches sight of the blush along your precious cheeks - precious, why did he think that? The thought irritates him, along with not being able to rip his fucking eyes off you, when you two continue the ceremony.

Eventually it’s well past night time, and he's prepared in just a thin Kimono from his attendant, loosely tied. “Master Gojo…”

“Yes, Ijichi?” He’s very close with him, Ijichi has been serving Gojo since he was a teen himself, he eyes the tired man, who sighs a bit, tightening the sash.

“I think your new bride is…”

“Speak it, you’re allowed.”

“She’s lovely,” Satoru blinks in surprise then, Ijichi has never said that about a single one of the ladies here, to the point Satoru assumed maybe he didn’t even like women. “It’s bold.”

“You think a lady is pretty? That’s new.” Satoru teases, and Ijichi stands back, serious look as always on his face, but he’s also shifting a bit, nervously.

“I think many women are pretty, I suppose I meant her… not just her outer appearance.” Satoru tilts his head in confusion now.

“Not just appearance?”

“She’s caring, funny, and intelligent. She was very kind to me as well…” Satoru could swear he sees a blush for the first time on Ijichi’s cheeks, is it possible your witchcraft has even affected his butler?

“I see, you like her.”

“Very much so, I just wonder if you might too, I know you’re against this marriage, but you never know.” Satoru looks away then, sighing a bit.

“Not sure she’s fond of me.”

“You did miss tea-”

“Are you on her side!? You serve me.”

“Yes, Master Gojo.” He’s all quiet again, as everyone in the fucking kingdom is offended for you at this point it seemed, from the lowest servant to his attendant, to his damn mother.

“I appreciate your thoughts, I’m sorry. I’m tired.” Satoru explains, and Ijichi nods, clearing his throat now.

“Shall you go to her chambers?”

“That’s what I must do.”

Satoru won’t admit he’s nervous, that his hands are sweating, walking over to your chambers now and entering them. Ijichi bows at you, while you’re sitting in front of the vanity, your attendant brushing out your hair. You look at them both in surprise, as if you didn’t expect him to come, even on your wedding night.

“My lady, congratulations on your wedding.” Ijichi says, and Satoru watches you soften, a sweet little fucking smile that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get from you, one that lights up your beautiful face and stops his heart.

“Thank you so kindly, Mr. Ijichi.” You smile again as he blushes, turning away and disappearing down one of the halls quietly, leaving Satoru with you. He inhales the sweetness of your scent, mixing with the incense you've lit, looking at the attendant then, who is blushing as well.

“You may leave,” Satoru orders Miwa out then, she curtseys and runs off, leaving you alone with a stranger, an emperor. He eyes you curiously, tilting his head as he studies your robes, light blue, your breasts exposed down the center, showcasing much of your skin. “Stand up.”

“Of course, your majesty,” his jaw tenses as you speak, as you stand slowly and his blue eyes drink the sight of you in. “Surprised you weren’t too busy to come.”

“You’re awfully angry about tea, hmm?” He steps closer now, long strides with his impossibly long legs, towering over you when he’s close, so close. You swallow nervously, but put on a brave face, a fake smile.

“Perhaps we should get on with things quickly, so we can have an heir.”

“What now?” His thin brows lower over his eyes, which narrow.

“Indeed, the quicker you put your seed in me, the quicker we can be done, at least one would look good for the kingdom.” Your words fucking baffle him, when you step back, undoing the knot of your robe then.

“What are…” He trails off, blushing when you’re naked, his cheeks burning as he sees your beautiful body, the one he’d jerked off to just the fucking outline of the other day.

He doesn’t jerk off, he has women for that, but he couldn’t stop himself, cumming more in his hand from the looks of you than with any of his women. He can’t help but look at your pretty breasts, they sway just a bit as they’re released, and you shift just a bit, hands knotted together in front of you, as if you’re preparing for an inspection, seemingly calm.

“What are you going on about?” His eyes slip lower, across the soft curve of your hip and stomach, even lower, to your cunt just there tempting him between the plush of your thighs that are pressed together.

“An heir, it’ll make things easier for us both,” he chuckles then, a mean smile on those vermillion lips. “Should I prepare you, your majesty?”

Satoru’s about to fucking lose it, his fists clench at his sides, trying to look in your eyes and not those beautiful fucking tits just begging for his hands. He pulls it together, snorting as if he finds you amusing and not heartbreakingly beautiful. “As if you know what to do.”

You step closer now, hips swaying as if to torture him with each undulation, all bold just like in those baths, you’re not the shy and practiced girl, you’re not the one giggling and teasing. You’re not the girl he expected, not even fucking close, how your fingertips brush the cool silk of his robe over his overheated skin.

Satoru was used to being the one in control, just what the fuck was this, how you’re acting, what you’re doing!? He is furiously blushing now at your proximity, annoyed you have whatever odd effect this is, when you speak - “I can make this at least enjoyable for you.”

“Tch, 'you think you're adequate at it?” You smile just a bit, it’s not that cute one you gave Ijichi, it's evil and making him harder.

“I've had instructions on how to please my future husband, there are many books that show it, I was given them to read.” Satoru laughs, trying to play it off, when he undoes the tie finally, as his robes land on the floor at a pool of his feet. He’s just in a fundoshi, a thin strip of material showcasing a straining erection.

“Let's see it, then.” He says, all cocky, until you're on your fucking knees before him, slipping down his fundoshi ever so carefully like some professional. He’s sputtering, unsure what to think - maybe you've done this before, but why should that bother him!? Why does that thought make him infuriated, as you have him whimpering from your breath on his inner thigh.

You have his cock free, it is so heavy that after slapping his stomach it just hangs there, thick and already hard from just seeing you. You bite your lip as the cool stone floor hurts your knees, just a bit. You take your hand carefully, stroking him slowly, from the base where he has tufts of white hair, to his pink tip leaking milky drops, admiring the veins that wrap it.

You could swear you hear a whimper, but your heart is pounding in your ears so much it’s hard to know. You swallow nervously and put on your act, running your thumb over his tip and smiling up at the man, his entire body carved and chiseled to such perfection.

“I thought I'd have to get you in this state, how curious since I hadn’t even touched you yet? the books didn't mention it being ready…” Satoru glares now, you're insulting him without even knowing it!? You’re casually calling out his desperation for you, that he’s hard when he just sees you.

He struggles to handle your insolence, your question appears innocent but he doesn’t buy it, not with you. He entangles a hand in your hair then, pulling it firmly as you lap at his tip, almost making him cum from that, while he wraps your hair around his fist, the sight of you enough he could bust ropes all over your pretty face.

“All right, let's see what you've learned, hmm?” He taunts, but you just nod a bit, stroking him then, little hand up and down in gentle twists. He’s tense now, as it feels even better, when you suck him into your mouth, just the tip at first, swirling your tongue around it and tonguing out the salty precum. “Fuck…”

He hopes that whisper was quiet enough, as you take more of him, every inch deeper and deeper from each stroke and movement of his cock in your mouth, while you just look at him like that. Like you want to end him with your pretty eyes and demon mouth, it shouldn’t even feel this good, but his eyes roll back in his head as he fucks your hot mouth, faster and faster.

He’s gasping out, he has never felt anything better even from the most practiced girls, no you have the perfect suction, the way your tongue swirls is obscene, as he fucks your throat and feels you taking so much. He almost thinks you could fucking take it all, seeing the slobber glisten on his cock, moaning at the sight of how your eyes flutter shut when he thrusts his hips inside.

God you feel too good, you have him losing his mind with your little gasps and gags on his cock. “Slutty fucking throat,” he whispers, you pull back just a bit, glaring at him, only for him to whimper, and cry out - “You’re doing s'good, sweetheart…”

Sweetheart?

Slut?

What a conundrum of a man you think, you feel him pulsing in your mouth, but also you feel your tummy clenching, something you didn't expect. You didn’t expect to enjoy this part of sex truly, you didn’t expect to enjoy anything without love, but something about his snowy lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, about his sweet cries, it does something to you.

Your nails are pressing on his muscled thighs, leaving marks on that perfect pale skin when he rips you off him then, saliva dripping from your mouth along with his precum. You’re pulling back to sit on your heels, as he lets go of your hair, and you wipe away some of the drool that’s gathered.

“Um… was I not adequate?” You hate that you actually care if you were, but then Satoru Gojo laughs without humor, standing you up now unceremoniously.

“Not adequate?”' He is lifting you like it’s nothing, your feet dangling off the fucking floor then, when Satoru Gojo slams his lips on yours, shocking you as you cling to him tightly, not to hold him but not to fall. He’s got your thighs on his hips, as he kisses you desperately, tongue devouring your mouth, every corner of it.

You’re lost for a moment, feeling your cunt leak arousal on his tummy, as his huge hands are on your ass, squeezing while he’s tasting himself on your lips. You’re kissing him back without fully realizing it, maybe it’s the surprise, maybe it’s something more that you don’t want to think of, and you get no chance to, when he’s carrying you across the room.

You find yourself thrown right on your enormous bed, decorated in more blues, the color of the Gojo clan, the colors of his eyes - some of them at least, for when he’s hovering over you, saliva string dissipating between your mouths, they’re some dark shade you can’t fathom. His pupils are so blown out it seems like they’re black, his breaths heavy and loud in your ears.

You didn’t think he’d kiss you.

Satoru Gojo’s elegant long fingers slip down your body as he feels it tremble, slipping down further, until his fingers find your slick cunt then. You gasp at the sensation of it, the delicious swipe right up and down, as his plump lips kiss down one of the soft globes of your breasts, sucking a nipple in his mouth. You’re biting back your own moan as he toys with your clit, it twitches under his touch.

“Soaking wet, from sucking my cock, slutty.” He taunts, dangerous voice, even while he’s rutting his cock on the silk blankets, sucking on another pretty nipple as you cry out. The sounds of you end him.

“Y-your majesty, you don't need to do all of that,” you tug at his hair, pulling him off, closing your thighs on his hand now, just trapping him as if he won’t keep rolling those circles. “Ah! Just... get it done, okay?”

You can’t like this.

You can’t betray the memory. And for what, a man who’s doing what he must do tonight, then will run to his favorites? You can’t.

Your words make the emperor pause, looking up and seeing you then, your plump lips are swollen from his kisses, your skin flushed, eyes glittering as your breaths come quicker and quicker. He stops his fingers for a moment, god he’s dying to be inside of you, he wants your cunt to know the shape of him, fuck only him, a maddening thought raging with another.

Your words to get it done, they make sense, they were what he was going to do, until you stunned him again. His eyes trail across your face, seeing the apprehension mixed with clear desire, before trailing down your body ever so slowly. All of the concubines wanted Satoru, all of the women he’s ever been with have begged for him, and here you were, 'doing your duty'.

Something gnaws at him, he leans up and pulls his fingers off, as you look at him curiously, blinking rapidly as if to right yourself. “Do I need to suck you more?” You ask softly, and he shakes his head, clearing his throat then, as he sees the confusion making your brows knit together.

“No, you don’t need to suck me more, you sure liked it hmm?”

“Um, I could just touch you?” He grips your wrist as you try to do so, trailing a hand down his hard abdomen, pinning it before it touches his cock, aching to bury itself inside you.

“Tonight, we will not consummate the marriage.”

The words hurt you deeply, the sense of rejection making your throat close up, you have to at least fulfill your duty here, it’s all you’ve ever even been trained for, and he’s shutting it down.

“Oh, um… did I displease you?” Your voice isn’t confident like earlier, no it’s shy and unsure, he frowns a bit, wondering what the layers of you would be like, to peel them off slowly like your robes.

The thought of a woman not wanting him, especially you, infuriates him. “No, you did not displease me, foolish girl.”

You glare at that, how foolish you are he thinks to himself, do you not see how clearly he desires you, how much he was affected by your naked form, what your moth did to him? He picks you up by your hips, and shoves you up the bed then, making you blink in confusion at the change. “Emperor…”

“So formal, naked in front of me, after I fucked your throat?” He taunts in a whisper, kissing down your tummy with hot brushes of his mouth on your skin. He watches it tense as he dreams of making it bulge with his cock, seeing you tremble under his caress. “Answer me.”

“Fine, Gojo then,” you manage, it’s not as if it’s his first name after all. You’re trying not to cry out as his hands press into your hips, but you fail, head sinking back into the soft satin of the sky blue pillows under your head.

“Are you untouched?” His words earn another blush, averting your eyes from the man settling between your thighs now, thighs that tense on either side as he shoves them apart with his shoulders. “Can’t use your words?”

“I have not lain with a man, no, but I am not untouched.” Satoru's furious that anyone saw your pretty body, but he makes no comment at your honest answer.

Truly, he absolutely hates tradition and wouldn't care if you were or were not a virgin, in fact he prefers experience with his women, but for some fucking reason that thought irritates him, to picture you cumming for someone. Did you smile at them pretty and sweet, or the cruel little sexy look you gave him instead?

Did they drink your cunt, like he’s dying to at this moment? When he sees your pretty pussy, glistening and soaked, he moans softly. He parts your puffy lips then, as you bite your lower lip nervously, thighs trembling on either side of his head, while your slick pools from your little hole. He’s marveling at how wet it is, while his breath ghosts over it, making you jerk.

“Y-your majesty, that's not - ah- in the books!? Mnh what are you - oh!” You’re lost for words, when Gojo has his tongue slipping up your slit, hot and wet lapping a stripe right up it. You’ve never felt something like that, fingers felt great but what the fuck was his demonic tongue delving between your folds? “What are you doing!?”

He’s smirking against your cunt at your cute, cut off little question, seeing your mouth is wide in a slutty O, fuck you’re pretty. “Not everything is in your books, sweetheart,” he teases softly, and he laps up your slit again, making you whine out loud this time, your little fingers are gripping his shoulders, your nails pressing in and just making him harder.

“You’re… doing…” You’re done with speech apparently, not when Satoru’s lapping the juices pouring from your hole, his nose bumping your clit, your hands pressing deeper, feeling the muscles of his biceps as your breaths come quicker and quicker, desire washing over you. “You don’t have to do that!?”

“I'll have you cum on my face tonight,” his words are now muffled as he buries his face in your sweetness, letting the juices drown him and the heady desire consume him, pressing his cock on that mattress and almost cumming from it. “Over and over.”

He’s whispered those last words against your cunt, you’re lost in the sensations then, crying out in desperate little sobs as he works your body. He feels you tense, feels your cunt pulsing around his tongue when he fucks into your gummy walls that grip him so fucking good. He shoves your thighs apart further, dragging you impossibly closer to his face.

You're lost in how good it feels, no longer pulling him off, but tugging him closer without realizing it, pleasure overtaking your mind as your cries mix with his filthy suction, drinking all the liquid just fucking pouring. He’s moaning and rutting his cock, blue eyes looking up between the valley of your breasts, and it’s too intimate, it’s too fucking much.

You've cum before with your lover, but never have you done this, this intimacy of his mouth on you. You’ve never felt this, so intense, so much pressure in your tummy just building, the heat spreading throughout your body further with every vibration of his mouth on you, sending you closer to the edge.

You're screaming out, hips arching as he makes filthy sounds with your squelching cunt, he’s so close to cumming from just this, lost in every sensation of your body. Fuck, he's never enjoyed this so much, and he loves to please - but never was he about to bust his seed all over blankets while he fucking did it, and god he can't help but pay attention to every little thing.

Every movement, every twitch, every pretty cry while your hips arch up for more, until you’re using him, until you’re riding his face so sexy, he doesn’t think you know you are, but he’s fucking you deeper with his tongue. You yank on his hair, as if to tug him off, earning his chuckle as he just clamps down then, sucking your twitchy little clit into his mouth.

That’s when it’s too fucking much.

“Ah!” You’re screaming out, shameless now, while he lavishes every part of your cunt with his tongue, you swear nothing is fucking left unexplored, and now your clit, so sensitive, so stimulated. “Sensitive - mnh!”

“Good,” he’s smirking with his chin coated in you, sucking your clit into his mouth again as you’re screaming out for him. God, he wants you to call him Satoru, he can't say it though, that’s madness. Your cunt is madness, in how he wants to drown in it, how he wants your thighs to suffocate him. “Cum. Now.”

He devours devours your pussy after his clear fucking order, Tongue flicking on your clit as he hums on it, teeth just barely grazing it until you shatter for him. There are no words, just filthy, messy sounds, slurping and squishing echoing in your brand new chambers, while you cum all over your new husband's face, and fuck if you’ve never felt anything like it.

Your eyes are rolled back in your skull, shaking violently as the waves just rush through you, brain short circuiting with how much pleasure he’s rushed through you with his wicked mouth. You're shaking as you come down, as the orgasm leaves aftershocks, pulsing around nothing at all, craving things you shouldn’t, wanting impossibly more.

The pleasure is so intense you’re dizzy, barely able to fucking see, as you’re trying to gain your senses, orient yourself, looking down as Satoru presses one more kiss on your pretty cunt. He’s leaning up then, smirking down at you, pressing a kiss to your lips, when you taste yourself you're a blushing mess.

“You’re yummy, aren’t you? Do you like tasting it?” His voice is husky, his heavy cock brushing your thigh, hot and twitchy, leaking that sticky substance as you’re struggling to form a fucking word.

“I… you… we…” He’s chuckling, you’d scowl at his audacity, but your brain is altogether too fucked out.

“All that talk, all those books you read, it’s cute,” he brushes your hair back and smirks. “But I don't think you're ready f'me yet, sweetheart.”

You’re opening your mouth to say anything, trying to catch your breath as he stands up, bending down to snatch up his robe, lazily tying it over his body as if he’s casually chatting, not fucking your brain up. You sit up and look at him then, at the man you barely know, his eyes linger across your body as he swipes his chin, and you see it’s glistening, coated with your slick.

“You’re messy, tsk.” He smirks again, you’d like to smack that smirk off his face if you could form a thought!? You finally tug the blanket over you, he chuckles, murmuring - cute - like you’re amusing to him then.

“So where will you go, Emperor Gojo, will you go to your concubines to cum?' he chuckles then again, fucking infuriating. He leans down low, tilting your chin up as you look at him.

“Maybe I will, would that bother you, sweetheart?” You shake your head, it can't bother you, and you won’t fucking let it. No way, this will be your life now, you can’t let one interaction distract you, make you forget everything.

“Why would I care, you’ll be doing that all of our marriage, won’t you?” Your question makes him tense. “If roles were reversed, would you care?”

“What nonsense is that?” He’s scowling, and your mean little smile is back, he’d have to fuck that look off you one day.

“It would not bother me, it’s expected.”

“Ah,” he shakes his head, caressing your cheek almost tenderly, you feel foolish fucking thinking it. “You're not the best liar, that won't help you play the court, you know, you’ll have to get a better poker face.”

The mother fucker turns and walks away then, leaving you alone after he’d just licked your cunt, every inch to be precise, after he’d kissed you, looked at you in ways that bother you. The guilt sets in, hot and heavy, you’re crying for the first time in so fucking long, remembering your other vows, the ones that you promised to Suguru.

And now these are your fucking vows.

Just who was Satoru Gojo, and did you care more than you’d like to? No way, you shake that off, trying to process just what the fuck happened, as you tug at the pillows and sob into them. You miss home, you miss Suguru, and now instead of consummating it, you could handle that, you did something worse.

You enjoyed it all.

*****

Satoru doesn't go to his concubines that night, sure he let you think that, but how the fuck could he after he'd just tasted the sweetest nectar that exists right from your cunt? When he'd had your throat constricting his cock, those eyes looking up at him under those lashes?

How could he go try and be with one of them when he just wants to go back in there and sink inside your perfect cunt? Wreck your thoughts of him, rearrange your brain and your guts with his cock? Show you things you never did with whoever was on your mind, make sure you'd only think of him.

He held back for two reasons, one, you were fucking him for duty. Something about it just felt wrong, as a man who hates tradition and duty, but also as a man who needs to be desired in all aspects. The slight fear and nerves in your eyes were enough to make him realize he can't do his ‘duty’ like this, not this way.

He's throbbing when he's back in his chambers, staring at the high ceilings and intricate patterns along it, taking several breaths. He shuts his eyes and all he can see is you lying under him, he can still feel your sticky wetness on his fingers, taste you on his tongue.

He quickly stomps in long strides to grab a caffer of wine, pouring it into one of the silver goblets on his elaborately carved wood night stand. He downs it as quick as he can, hoping he can get drunk enough to sleep after that, to not run back in your room and take you for the first time, fuck he'd take you in every way.

He's soon grabbing his cock, he could have let you suck him off, but something about that when you didn't truly want to, just using knowledge from books, also made him feel wrong to do so. Instead, he could have any girl in the fucking palace please him, but he's stroking his cock like a boy in leading strings, not like the Emperor Gojo at all.

He's laying back on his bed, the overhanging curtains around the four posts closed as if he could hide from even himself what he's doing, stroking his sensitive cock and picturing only one person. Maddening, insanity, he doesn't want a wife, you don't want a husband, but all he can see is how your tits jiggle, while you jerked in his hold, while you whined out and gasped.

He can feel the sting of you yanking his locks as his hand strokes his cock up and down, achingly slow, a maddening pace. He's whimpering again, just like you made him do with your damn demon mouth. Maybe you're some witch, to have him stroking his veiny length, spitting on his cock and wishing it was your juices making him slick instead.

As he jerks himself, touching his tip, he leans back against the giant wood headboard, crying out your name before he can stop himself. Cheeks flush, lashes flutter, while his cock is twitching in his hand, the sounds lewd in his empty chambers, just breathy cries, whispers, and the sound of his hand moving up and down his glistening cock.

He finally cums, cursing and moaning - ‘f-fuuckk’ - while his cum pours all over his hand, an embarrassing amount that he'd like to explain away as not having cum today, as being edged by your throat, but the sight of so much milky seed all over his hand says much more than he'll admit. He's never seen so much, still pulsing out of his pretty pink tip.

“Fuck…” he quickly cleans up, stripping down to nothing and staring at the looking glass in his room. He's got a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, shaking his head as he looks at his own dilated eyes, wondering…

Just who is his new bride?

Well this is gonna be longer than I thought lol! Hope you all enjoyed <3

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#jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #beprecs

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toodymcdoody · 2 days ago

Text

"ᴛʀᴇꜱʜᴏʟᴅ"

—In which JJk Men Tell You to Leave in a Fight… and You Actually Do.

gojo, sukuna, suguru, and choso

genre, angst. notes, IM BACKKKK.

"You always do this," you snapped. "You make a joke, act like none of this matters, and when I finally break down about it, I’m the problem."

Gojo Satoru — “So just leave, then.”

Gojo leaned against the counter, arms crossed like he wasn’t cracking inside.

"You're making it bigger than it is."

"Because you don't care," you said, voice low. "You never fight for anything. Not really."

He scoffed. Rolled his eyes. Then: "So just leave, then. If it's that bad."

You went silent. And he froze.

You turned away, grabbed your bag, and headed for the door — slow but certain, like you’d been preparing for this moment in your heart for a while.

By the time the door opened, he snapped out of it.

"Wait—" He was already following you into the hall, barefoot, heart racing. “Wait. Fuck, okay — I didn’t mean that. Please just—wait a second.”

You didn’t stop walking.

"Let’s just talk, sweetheart. Just for a second—”

He reached out, but you stepped farther away.

"I’m done talking, Satoru."

And then you were gone. Down the steps. Out the front door.

Gojo stood in the cold night air, still calling your name long after the echo stopped answering him.

Sukuna — “Don’t walk away from me!”

"I’m not doing this anymore," you muttered, grabbing your jacket off the chair.

"You never meet me halfway. You mock me when I’m upset, and I’m tired of being in love with someone who only loves me when it’s easy."

Sukuna stood by the window, jaw tight.

"You’re not walking out over this."

"No. I’m walking out because you think I won’t."

You opened the door.

"Don’t you fucking dare—" he snapped, crossing the room in two strides.

You were already halfway down the hall when he bellowed after you:

"Don’t walk away from me!"

You didn’t look back.

The door slammed behind you. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles popped.

"Stupid. Fucking. Idiot."

He swore under his breath, pacing like a caged animal, hand dragging down his face.

A beat passed. Then another.

And suddenly he was storming out the door, steps fast, heart faster — chasing after the one person he swore he'd never lose control over.

Choso Kamo — “Wait—please.”

"I know I’m not perfect," he said, frustrated, "but I never asked you to fix me."

You turned slowly. "I wasn’t trying to fix you, Choso. I was trying to love you."

The silence that followed was worse than yelling.

He didn’t chase you at first. Just stood there, helpless, as you grabbed your things. The hurt in your face said it all — you'd been hoping he’d stop you. That he'd try.

And just when you reached the front door, you heard it.

"Wait—"

His voice cracked.

Then the sound of footsteps — and suddenly his hand was around your wrist, gentle but firm. You turned, and he pulled you into his chest like he needed to feel your heartbeat to believe he hadn’t already lost you.

"Don’t go. Please."

Your face pressed against his hoodie. His arms wrapped tight around you.

He smelled like cedar and faint cologne and every memory you didn’t want to leave behind.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

He just held you there like the world would fall apart if he let go.

Suguru Geto — “Don’t.”

"You’re not even here half the time, Suguru."

You were trembling — not with anger, but something worse. Disappointment.

"I keep showing up, and all I get is silence."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’m trying, alright?"

"Trying isn’t enough when I feel like I’m doing this alone."

You turned, heading for the door — but his hand shot out before you could reach it. Gripping your wrist, not tightly, just enough to stop you.

"Don’t."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

You looked at him. Really looked.

And he was scared.

"You’re not good at this," you said softly. "And I’m tired of bleeding myself dry to fill the spaces you keep empty."

You pulled your wrist from his grasp.

His hand dropped to his side like it weighed too much to hold.

And then you walked out, even as his lips parted, even as he took one step forward and couldn’t seem to take another.

The door clicked shut.

And he stood alone in the dark — in a home that didn’t feel like home anymore.

#beprecs

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toodymcdoody · 2 days ago

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"ᴡʜᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ?"

...In which someone gets violent with you in front of him.

sukuna, gojo, megumi, and suguru.

genre, fluff? warnings, violence! notes, ughhh i love when men...

★ RYOMEN SUKUNA

It happens fast. Too fast. One second you’re blinking back shock from the sting of a slap across your cheek, and the next—

“You fucking dead piece of shit.”

The air shifts. A blood-red blur barrels past you before your heart can catch up. Sukuna’s fists connect with the guy’s jaw, a bone-snapping crack echoing through the corridor. He doesn't stop. A punch to the stomach. A kick that slams the boy against the lockers. Then another. You think you hear the guy trying to say something—maybe apologize—but Sukuna’s boot is already crushing into his ribs.

“Touch her again, and I’ll feed you to my dogs, limb by fucking limb.” He seethes, voice venomous and brutal, spitting insults like poison while pinning the guy by the throat. "You wanna bleed, huh? I'll fucking gut you right here—"

“Sukuna,” you whisper, breath catching.

He turns. Blood streaks his jaw, knuckles raw, eyes still wild like an animal fresh off a kill.

But when he sees you— that violence quiets.

“...You good, baby?” His voice drops. Gentle, like the softness was always meant for you and no one else. He walks over, still panting, grabbing your chin with his blood-stained fingers and tilting your face to inspect the damage. “Did he hurt you bad? Fuck, I should’ve ripped his goddamn hands off—”

You shake your head. “I’m okay now.”

He exhales slow. Then kisses your forehead, lips lingering like a silent promise.

But when he pulls back, he’s already turning over his shoulder. “I’m not done with him.”

★ GOJO SATORU

You stumble back, almost losing your footing—and before your brain can process what just happened, there’s a hand on your waist, steadying you.

Gojo’s fingers curl protectively around you, his other hand gently brushing your hair behind your ear. He’s silent for a moment, unnervingly still, before he presses the softest kiss to your temple.

“Baby, stay right here, alright?” Then he turns.

His usual smirk is still there, but something’s different. It doesn’t reach his eyes. The guy who pushed you barely has time to say a word before Gojo’s already in front of him.

“Wow, shoving people smaller than you?” Gojo says with a mock laugh, “That’s cute. What’s next, kicking puppies?” And then— Crack.

His fist slams right into the boy’s jaw, and he drops like a bag of bricks.

Gojo adjusts his sunglasses, like that didn’t just happen. “Oops. My hand slipped.”

He turns back to you, grin bright as the sun. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nod, a little breathless.

“Cool, cool. Wanna grab some ice cream? I think you deserve a treat. That guy’s jaw sure got one.”

★ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

You yelp when someone pulled your hair. It’s not just the pain—it’s the shock. But the guy doesn’t get to enjoy your reaction for long. Megumi's already there, eyes blazing, hands grabbing the guy by the collar and shoving him back so hard he stumbles.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Megumi growls.

Before the guy can even defend himself, Megumi grabs his hair and yanks it downward, hard.

“You think that shit’s funny? Huh?” he snaps, voice dangerously low. “Pulling someone like that—what are you, five?”

He drags the guy down, practically hissing insults with every breath. “You slimy, brainless waste of air. You’re lucky I don’t throw you off a roof right now.”

And then—slam—he pushes the guy to the ground. Hard. Spits out a final, “Pathetic,” before dusting off his hands and turning to you.

The anger drains from his face in an instant.

“Hey… are you okay?” His hands hover before they gently cup your cheek, checking if you’re hurt. “Did he pull too hard? God, I swear people like that don’t deserve to breathe—”

“I’m fine,” you say quietly.

But he doesn’t let it go. He slips his hand in yours, squeezing. “Come on. Let’s go home. I’m not letting anyone else near you today.”

★ GETO SUGURU

It wasn’t even subtle. A full, deliberate splash of red punch, drenching your shirt, staining your chest. You freeze in shock, blinking down at the mess—

And Suguru sees red.

Without hesitation, he grabs the nearest lunch tray—full of food—and storms toward the guy who did it. The boy barely turns before Suguru slams the tray into his face, sandwich and all. The cafeteria gasps. Suguru leans in, towering, voice low and venomous.

“You. Fucking. Monkey.” He drops the tray. “Stupid, brainless animal. Is that how you get off? Staining what you’ll never have?”

The guy tries to stammer, backing away with mashed potatoes on his face, but Suguru just glares him down with pure disgust before turning to you.

“Oh, baby…” His tone flips completely. Gentle. Sweet. He takes a napkin and carefully wipes the juice off your arm. “Hold on, I’ve got extra shirts in the car.” He brushes your damp hair from your face, eyes soft now. “Let’s get you changed, yeah, doll?”

You nod, a little stunned by how fast it all happened.

He wraps an arm around you, guiding you away from the mess, shielding you with his body. “You’re not walking through this place drenched in sugar."

#beprecs

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toodymcdoody · 2 days ago

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ngl i like when fanfic writers have typos cos , i just think it’s the character just fumbling over their words like a normal human.

#“i hate yo #me too #i also hate yo #fanfic #mha #jjk #lads #fanfic writers

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toodymcdoody · 3 days ago

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THIS WON'T REACH YOU - jjk

five years ago, megumi left to chase his music and asked her to wait for him. she did—for a while. long enough to know he wasn’t coming back. now he’s everywhere: sold-out shows, trending songs, scanning venues for faces in the crowd that almost look like her. but it's never really her. until one day, he sees her again. older. softer. and beside her, a little girl with eyes just like his.

pairing: m.fushiguro x fem. reader

cw: fem. reader, teenage pregnancy, mentions of alcohol and drug consumption, rough familial relationships, themes of addiction, themes of mental health issues, sexual jokes, mentions of hooking up/sex (no direct smut but close), angst, ooc characters, crack, fluff, flawed characters, individual warnings for each chapter, more warning will be added as we go tbh

status: ongoing ⎯⎯⎯⎯ taglist: open!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: seaweed softserve

real house wives of kyoto | the kardashians

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟏: happy birthday maki!

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟐: club going up on a tuesday

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟑: melon milk 🎤

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟒: undressed 🎤

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟓: wait for may 🎤

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟔: oh bless your heart ❤️

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟕: thai fried rice

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟖: pussy from a girl who is evil

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟗:

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟎𝟏𝟎:

Send an ask to be added to the taglist! Also my inbox is always open, TWRY related asks are under 🎤— this won't reach you!

dividers by @cafekitsune, banner idea based on @bowtiepasta 's "over my dead body", megumi based on sombr

#beprecs

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toodymcdoody · 3 days ago

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“i can tell by the look of you, you don’t know where the clit is,”

“well i can tell by the look of you that you’re the only person who’ll ever touch yours,”

“don’t go projecting on me! i get tons of bitches,”

“you two hands don’t count-“

“ENOUGH!!” midoriya yells, slamming his hands onto the table.

“you know he knows where the clit is because that’s all I hear at fucking night! i don’t want to hear anymore yelling today!” his voice is stern while he points a finger at you, bakugo with a smug smirk across the table from you.

“and you!” midoriya turns, pointing his finger right in bakugos face.

“me?”

“yes! you! you know she gets bitches because that’s what caused all the fucking moaning and groaning last night! ‘who’s shirt is this?’ ‘why do you care? you had a bra in your room’,” he switches the pitch of his voice, clearly hearing everything from the night before.

“i’m tired. i just got back from a long mission. i had to stay up and grade papers while hearing a porno being filmed in the next room. shut up. just. shut. up.”

a beat.

“i’ve never thought of filming something,”

#mha #bakugo x female reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader x midoriya ??#mha deku #mha roommates #bakugou x reader #mha x reader

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toodymcdoody · 3 days ago

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PUT YOU FIRST

pairing : tobio kageyama x f!reader summary : you're the only thing beside volleyball tobio has been wholeheartedly devoted to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you, no matter how painful it might be cw : angst, no comfort, exes/breakup, pining, crying, miscommunication, post timeskip, ali roma!tobio, no use of y/n word count : 2.2k

ex!tobio who breaks your heart when he haphazardly agrees, almost without a second thought.

neither of you can recall how the idea found a footing in the first place, but the word ‘breakup’ is brought up, and suddenly it’s a reality.

“if that is what you think is best, then okay.”

ex!tobio who packs up his stuff and leaves as soon as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort by overstaying his welcome.

he’s quiet as a mouse as he carefully moves around the apartment to collect it all, listening to your sobs and cries that never seem to stop.

is this what he wants? absolutely not. you’re his entire world. there is absolutely no limit to the lengths he would go to for you — anything, without question.

even if that is breaking up.

ex!tobio who you now believe to be agreeable to a fault.

it is a fact people are baffled about once you tell them. everyone just believe him to be as ruthless and angry as he is on the court — but you can easily go on for hours about how once you get him on your own, there are no signs of the hard edge to him that everyone else see.

with you he is soft. kind. patient.

and up until now, you have considered it to be one of his many admirable qualities.

however, it is not something you appreciate when it regards the fate of your relationship.

ex!tobio who is, in reality, exactly the person everyone believes him to be.

he has heard it from an early age; “why do you always have to be so mean, kageyama?”, “you really are selfish, kageyama,” “let’s see how far that attitude gets you, kageyama.”

people have refused to see him as anything more than his stubbornness, therefore he sees no reason to make them believe otherwise. they have already made up their mind.

you are the first person to try and give him the benefit of the doubt.

“are you okay, tobio?,” “let me know if there’s something i can do for you, tobio,”, “i believe in you, tobio.”

ex!tobio who might be agreeable to a fault, but it is only with you.

meeting someone who takes the time to see past his outburst is something he knows he wants to cherish — he is not going to scare you away.

no fight, no argument, no disagreement is that important that it is worth the risk of losing you.

so he puts his pride aside — he will always put you first, even if it means he is miserable.

ex!tobio who therefore agrees to a breakup under the belief that he thinks it’s what you want — what’s best for you.

your world shatters as he closes the door behind him.

suddenly you feel like the entire relationship was as a scam, too good to be true.

why was it so easy for him to walk away? how was he able to hear how your broken heart drew unruly sob after sob from your lips as he folded his clothes into his suitcase? why couldn’t he fight for you?

you’re left with the impression of simply being a convenience to him, someone he could use for comfort when he needed it. and once that lost its value, he had no trouble tossing you aside.

and maybe he is exactly that person everyone has told you he was.

ex!tobio who feels a new sense of agitated restlessness take residence in his body once you’re not part of his life anymore.

it’s only when you’re gone that he realises how much you have softened him. his mind had somehow found peace it never knew existed before you came around, and suddenly it’s just gone.

he becomes angry again. short tempered as he snaps at the first inconvenience he faces.

his teammates, who has only ever known him while he was devoted to you, are left stunned at his outburst in the locker room before the season’s first match.

“what the hell has gotten into you, kageyama?”

ex!tobio who hopes your watching, even though he has no right to your attention anymore.

and of course you are. once upon a time you had promised him you would be there for all of his moments — one way or another.

under different circumstances, you would have been in the stands. the loudest person in the crowd as you watch him perform his art — instead a blaring alarm wakes you up a quarter to four in the middle of the night.

grumpily you force yourself out of bed. you curse yourself, even though you know very well this is something you’re doing of your own free will. you have no obligation to him anymore, and it’s not like he will know if you’re watching or not. you could very easily turn off the alarm, pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep, drift back into dreamland where you are still together.

but instead you bring your duvet with you into the dark living room, wrap it around yourself and switch the tv on, the sports channel that’s airing his match already on. with a yawn, you make yourself comfortable, laying down on your side and tucking your hand under your cheek.

the match is about to start, and the camera pans to tobio, showering him with praise as the talented setter he is — it doesn’t take long before you feel a quiet tear roll down your cheek. and as the game goes on, the stream continues steadily and silent.

oh, how you miss him.

ex!tobio who is a different type of nervous during the match, because it feels wrong to not have you in the audience.

on instinct, he keeps shooting glances to where you would have been sitting if you were to attend, hoping to meet your eyes. without fail, you would always look at him with such pride whenever he played.

it gave him an extra little push, having such a desire to impress you — and he looked forward to the little post-match ritual the two of you had developed.

the buzzer would end the match, declaring his victory — and while he thanked the opposing team for the game, you would hurry down from the stands.

in the halls of the stadium, you find him before they reach their wardrobe. the blush quickly blossoms across his cheeks when his teammates start teasing him.

“here she comes, champ,” one of them snickers, shoving his shoulder lightly before they all head on — but he remains.

without another second to waste, you launch at him, limbs latching on around his neck while his arms secure you in his grip, lifting you off the ground. his stance is steady — safe — as he spins you around before putting you down gently again.

the second your toes touches the floor, your hands cup his face to guide him closer. as your lips graze his, you say the same phrase you always do, “didn’t i say i believed in you?” before sealing the kiss.

but he know that won’t meet him this time. instead he’ll be alone, joining his team straight for the wardrobe.

ex!tobio who for the first time considers being selfish with you.

and he hates himself for it.

that was the one thing he was determined not to be with you — and here he is considering it, phone in hand with your number dialled.

his life is turned upside down, nothing resembling what he has grown so accustomed to. and on every aspect, he feels himself going through what he believes have to be withrdrawls.

ex!tobio is back in japan.

your mouth runs dry when you walk by the newspaper kiosk, his familiar face printed on the front page of a sports magazine. one of japan’s star athletes is returning to his home country for a tournament.

at first you’re hit with a small pang of anger — why hasn’t he told you?

and realisation hits you all over again, and yet another evening is spent alone in your apartment with wet cheeks.

however, it’s worse than it has been in a long time. somehow your body knows that he is in the same city as you for the first time in months, and it causes your heart to ache.

you don’t sleep at all that night. instead you toss and turn with the image of your past love printed behind your eyelids.

no matter how long it’s been since you’ve seen him, every detail is still intact in your memory. the exact shade of blue his irises are. the way the blush is easily brought to his face, starting across his nose before spreading across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. how he always tilts his head a little to the right when he is confused. the way his shoulders rise and fists clench when he is building up courage.

you remember it all.

ex!tobio who knows it’s naive to think you’ll show.

but it doesn’t stop him from letting his investigative stare roam the audience. one would think it is hopeless to even begin to look, but he knows he’ll spot you if you are in fact there.

he will always find you.

the game runs its course, and despite his best efforts, he never spots you in the crowd.

it doesn’t really matter that he wins the first match he plays for ali roma in his home country — because you’re not there to celebrate with him.

ex!tobio who freezes in his tracks as he is about to enter the men’s wardrobe when he hears you call his name.

“tobio?”

you voice is meek, like you’re scared. and truth be told, you are. he can clearly tell — the constant shifting of weight between each leg and the nervous fidgeting of your fingers clear indicators of so.

it’s a new feeling to take you hostage when in tobio’s presence.

for a second there’s utter silence before he hears the faint whispers of his teammates behind him, before they eventually shuffle on to leave you two alone.

he remains completely still in his spot. “hey,” he breaths, and you both immediately pick up on the fact that you’re not the only one who is nervous. he continues to stumble over his words, hoping your natural warm presence will eventually melt him out of his stance. “it’s good to see you.”

you pull your lips into an awkward smile. you too — the two words sit restlessly on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason you’re unable to speak them into existence.

“great match! you played really well!”

he knows you’re smearing on thick, serving him a little white lie. because despite winning, he didn’t performed nearly as well as he could have. maybe being back home, knowing you were easily a car ride away, had messed with his head.

“thanks,” he says even though he can’t help but quirk a suspect eyebrow. “i didn’t see you. in the audience.”

“i watched from the hallway entrance. you know, the one in the top to the left?” it makes sense why he hadn’t seen you. tobio wouldn’t have been able to see anyone up there in that lighting. “and i also came late.”

“oh. okay.”

oh. okay.

he feels stupid as the sorry excuse for a response leaves his lips, but the unexpected reunion has caused his brain you temporarily short circuit.

“i wasn’t even sure if i should come,” you avert your gaze, tilting it to look at your own fingers.

“glad you did,” he says, wishing he could have mustered a steadier speech than he did.

there’s a whirlwind of turmoil causing havoc inside him, as he debates whether or not he should seize this moment that the universe has served him and finally let himself be selfish with you.

it’s so tempting. especially when you’re nearly within reach. he only needs to take five steps forward and he can pull you into him and have you rest your cheek against his chest like you always used to.

ex!tobio who dares take three steps closer at first.

when you look up at him again, he is scared you’ll step away once you see he is standing closer. but if anything, it looks as if you relax, lips parting with a soft sigh as you look at him with such awe in your eyes.

“how are you?” you ask innocently, knowing the answer you’ll get is not the answer you want.

he shrugs nonchalantly. “not too bad,” he lies, and he hopes you’ll call him out for it. “been busy.”

“so i’ve seen,” you try to smile, but you’re almost certain your sadness swallows it.

“you have?” there is a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone.

“of course,” you nod. “promised i would, didn’t i?”

and for the first time during your conversation, he smiles genuinely. it’s faint, almost unnoticeable, but it’s there and it’s so typical tobio.

ex!tobio who finally decides he cannot fight his desires anymore. your gentle affirmation, a reminder of your devotion to each other, wis the last drop that madke the glass run over.

he says your name, and you tilt your head at him.

“yeah?”

“i still love you.”

author's note : just need to remind you all i still love him... even tho this might not be the fic that proves it hehe

tags (open — link to taglist form) : @nishislcve . @ichore . @megapteraurelia . @loveyislost . @momoewn . @poopooindamouf tobio nation : @hiraethwa . @shouyuus . @silkloom . @sodaneko . @mcdonaldsnumberone

#beprecs

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