Latest Posts by straows - Page 2

“Why won’t you marry me?!”

In which you have some bad past trauma and it's holding back your relationship with Gojo.

A/n: This is honestly just for me. These Sandra Bullock movies have me sobbing my fucking eyes out and writing shitty ass stories. Anyways. This is hurt/comfort. It also hasn't been spell-checked or anything so don't shit on it pls.

“Baby, why haven’t I met your parents?” Gojo gave you a quirky little grin, kissing your cheek sweetly.

You stared at him, your happy mood immediately faltered. “Well, I- I— it’s just not really important.” You gave him a little smile and kissed his forehead, before going into your bedroom.

Gojo sighed, growing frustrated. You always did this. Anytime he asked about your parents, about marriage, about children, you completely shut down.

And he was getting so tired of it. He just wanted to take the step of your relationship, he wanted to be with you. You’d been together for 4 years for fucks sake.

Getting up, he tried to keep his frustrations in, walking inside your shared bedroom, “baby please, I’m ready to take this to the next step—“

“No goddamn it no!” You snapped at him, eyes glossy and a mean look on your face. But all the anger just covered up so much trauma.

“Why the hell not?! You have met everybody in my life! I have given you everything!” Now he was yelling back, the vein his forehead straining.

“Stop fucking asking me all the fucking questions!” You stood up from the bed.

One thing led to another and you were having a screaming match.

However, when Gojo raised his hand a little too quickly, you flinched. Your body tensed so hard and your head shrunk back.

Gojo stared at you, mouth agape at your reaction. He watched as you looked back up at him, as if you were waiting for a hit or anything.

When you saw his staring at you, you grew so fucking embarrassed. Your face was red and your eyes were teared up, tear streaks running down your face and oh— you were a fucking mess.

You immediately grabbed your keys and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind you. In nothing but an oversized shirt and panties, no shoes or socks.

“Wait! Sweets you can’t go out like that please—“ he tried to follow after you, but you were pulling out of the driveway so fast there were streaks on the road. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He yelled, slamming the door shut so hard it knocked photos off the wall.

A picture of you and him lay on the ground, shattered to bits and torn.

“Shit…” he sighed, his own tears beginning to fall as he leaned down to pick up the picture. Flipping over the picture, he noticed a phone number. Curiosity mixed with the absolute feeling of his heart cracking in fucking half. So he called it.

“Hello?” And old woman’s voice answered.

Gojo’s brows furrowed, “who is this? This is Gojo Satoru.”

“This is **** (your mom’s name)”, the older woman answered.

“Are you y/n’s mother?” Gojo’s voice got a little lighter, would he finally get to meet you?

“Yes… is this her boyfriend?” The woman got a little sassier.

“Yes… well, I am trying to marry your daughter but she is proving to be… very stubborn…” Gojo sighed, before plopping down on the couch, deciding to give you space, he felt so fucking bad.

“What happened?” Your mother spoke up after a hefty moment of silence.

“I asked her about when I could meet her family… and she freaked out.” Gojo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Oh… well that’ll do it I suppose.” She sighed, sipping on the Bloody Mary she’d made moments prior.

“What do you mean? Seriously all I want to do is marry the woman, why is it so hard?” Gojo glared at the picture for a second before the anger immediately dissipated into sadness. “She acts like the floor will fall out from under her any second.”

“It’s because it has, it always has. Poor thing, I s’pose this is my fault.” The old woman sighed, glancing out of the window and at the little pond a few yards out.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ll admit I wasn’t the best mother. She was the oldest out of three and I had a rocky relationship with my husband. I guess I’d taken it out on her… left her alone to take care of her siblings and her father. That drunk old bastard,” she huffed, “she hates me now. I understand why. Every time things would get good, something would always, always go wrong.”

“…” Gojo stayed quiet for a long time. Just taking in this information. He had no idea, he had no idea about anything. Anything about your life before you’d turned 23.

“She’s afraid she’ll end up like me, afraid her marriage will turn out like mine, that she’ll treat her kids like I did mine. I’ll forever regret what I did to my poor sweet girl.” Your mother sighed softly, heart aching with regret and agony that she’ll never get her daughter back.

“…I have to go.” Gojo immediately hung up the phone and stood up. Dialing your number over and over and over and over and over again, he called you 106 times.

Every time, he got no answer. So, he just decided to wait. He cleaned up the glass, tried to watch a show, and eventually tried to cook dinner. But he was terrible at it. You were much better. And that thought had his shoulders slumping.

It wasn’t until dark that you finally showed up again. Eyes all red and swollen, bare feet roughed up and you had fresh little cuts and bruises that littered your body.

You’d gone and ran through the woods to get to the old creek you used to play in as a kid.

It was 100% not safe, 100% stupid, and it 100% had Gojo’s heart shattering a little more.

You didn’t say anything to him, just walked past him and slipped into the guest bedroom, before collapsing on the bed.

You’d exhausted yourself with all the crying and walking you’d done. But you still didn’t want to speak to Gojo. You weren’t mad at him, not really. Just scared.

Things had been going so good. What happens if you marry him and end up a drunkard witch like your mother? What if you turn cruel and horrible to your children?

Fears ran deep and trauma was still solidified in your mind from your adolescence.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice cut you away from your mental thoughts. From the spiral you were threatening to go on again.

Glancing up, you noticed him staring at you with sad eyes, “please talk to me.” He whispered so softly. And when you didn’t say anything, he took that as a good sign and walked further into the room before sitting down on the bed.

“…”

“I spoke to your mother.”

You immediately looked up at him, shocked and horrified all at the same time. “You did what?!”

“I’d accidentally broken the frame and saw the number…” he handed you the picture of the two of you, your mother’s number scribbled on the back.

You’d written that a while ago. When you had debated on calling her or not. You’d written down to have her number somewhere, just didn’t want it in your phone.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“I understand now why you don’t want to take any steps further…” Gojo spoke so softly, his touch so gentle on your chin as he had you looking up at him. “Baby, I am so sorry. I had no idea what’d happened or what you’d gone through… I should have never pressured you like that.”

You just stared at him, your bottom quivering and your eyes growing glassy again.

“I love you. With all my heart. You never, and will never ever have to worry about the carpet getting yanked out from under your again.” He kissed your forehead softly. “I want to be there for you, in sickness and in health, I want to be there for you in the good and the bad. I want you, all of you.”

“You don’t mean that.. I-I— what if down the road you start to resent me- or- or what if-“

“No, baby that won’t happen.” Gojo gave you the most adoring expression, he was looking at you like you truly were the only thing in his life— in his world even. “It won’t happen because I love you with my everything, and nothing will ever change that. And if I need to remind you every morning and every night I will.”

You swallowed thickly, sighing shakily before burying your face in his neck as you crawled up to him. “I’m so sorry baby.” You murmured, the tears already flowing.

“It’s okay. You’ve done nothing wrong, pretty.” He whispered against your hair, kissing your forehead before wrapping his arms around you completely. “But please, next time we argue or anything like that, put some pants and shoes on before going running through the woods.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, a little giggle leaving you. And that had a smile on his face almost immediately. “I love you Toru.”

“I love you, sweets.”

Gojo who…

—Loves when you get jealous. Because at the end of the day, he gets just as jealous as you do.

A/n: this is short as shit but I love it idc idc idc

The bar was loud, with shots clicking the table, cheering, and laughter. But nothing, and I mean nothing, was louder than the sound of your inner monologue screeching.

You were dressed up, all cute with your hair and makeup done up. You wore a simple long skirt with a slit in the mid-thigh, and a cute little green tube top that was cropped at the naval.

Gojo, bless his heart, wore a black button-up and jeans. With the same fuckass shoes he always wore. Before leaving, he’d said “It’s okay babe. I’ll look because you make me look good.” Before kissing your cheek.

And damn it, he was right. Because now not only was he surrounded by a bunch of guys secretly eyeing you as they spoke to him, but women seemed to find it a competition to get to him. And Gojo was already popular with the ladies, you beat them off with a stick.

You were leaning against the bar, glaring absolute daggers as Gojo awkwardly tried to tell a girl to fuck off without telling her to fuck off. Quickly, you tapped the shot glass against the table before downing it in one fell swoop. The burn in your throat only adds to the anger you were jelly.

Walking over, you grabbed Gojo by his collar and pulled him down, smashing your lips against his.

Gojo, shocked at first, just grinned into the kiss and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. He knew exactly what you were doing. And he fucking loved it.

He peaked his eyes open and saw that yours were open as well, glaring daggers at the woman as you basically made out with him. It only made him hard.

The fact that you were so territorial over him? Hot. Soo fucking hot. Because as much as he loved showing you off, he was also getting tired of the stares you were getting from men. Knowing you were just as into him as he was you? Oh lord he was eating you out so good later.

However, when you tried to pull away, Gojo only deepened the kiss. It was definitely not a kiss meant for the public eye, seeing as his tongue was invading your mouth, and it didn’t help that you were leaning into it.

Yep, you two were a match made in heaven.

Because Shoko was cackling at the both of you in the corner. Nanami simply rolled his eyes at the two of you and went back to talking with his wife.

“Well damn,” Gojo groaned against your lips, using you to hide the absolute diabolical boner in his pants. “Feel better, pretty?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded with that same smug little grin that he adored. “Although… I think I need something else,” slowly, your finger trailed down from his collar and ended at his belt before pulling him into you.

Gojo flashed you that mega watt smile, “Mm, that so? You know she’s gone, right?” He quirked a brow, tilting his head slightly.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I just wanted to come and show my handsome husband how much I love him,” running your hands back up his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips hovering near his, “is that so wrong?”

“Not wrong at all, sweets. Not wrong at all.” He murmured, before leaning in for another kiss, just for you to pull away. Giggling as he chased your lips.

“How about, you take me home?” You knew just how to press every single one of his buttons. Of course you did. Your been married for a year and dating for much longer.

“I like the sound of that, Mrs. Gojo.” Gojo kissed your cheek, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

After saying your goodbyes, the two of you headed to the car. He gave you a slap on the ass as you got into the passenger side.

...

Gojo who...

...had you bent over the kitchen table. That cute long skirt you wore was ripped down the ass, your panties just pushed aside as he fucked into you like a madman.

Moaning and groaning about how good you feel, leaving bite marks all over your back. He had a bruising grip on your ass, his fingers white as he would yank your hips back against him as he’d fuck up into you. Pushing you up on your toes.

“Ba-babe!” You’d moan, all pitchy and desperate. Your nails clawing into the table, back arched as you let him pull you every which way.

“Fuck— you,” thrust. “are” thrust. “mine.” Each word punctuated by his cock slamming back into you, your poor cunt molding to the shape of his cock.

Eyes rolling back, you breathlessly moaned as you came around him. Cunt tightened around him like it didn’t wanna let him go, milking for all he was worth.

“S-shit— pretty girl you can’t- oh fuck,” Gojo was all pretty and breathless. Sweat dripped down his brow, blue eyes practically fucking glowing as he reached up and wrapped his hand around the front of your throat, bringing you up so that your upper back was pressed against his chest, giving you a perfect arch. “You can’t squeeze like that” he’d whine, before ultimately blowing his load inside you after a few more thrusts.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and hips as he pulled against him completely. Slowly fucking his cum deeper into you, “so good, did so good for me.” Breathless and sweet whispers against your neck as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

Garden Injuries p.2

—in which you wake up after being out for three days from fever, only to find Sukuna waiting by your side. He's rather eager for you to heal... for many reasons.

A/n: I really wanted to write this but like I want to implode because I kind of fucking hate it?? Also, should I make a taglist??????

<< part one, part three>>

Waking up, you immediately felt a raging pain in your thigh. You could feel your heartbeat pulse in the wound— it was that kinda bad. Not only that, but your throat was dry and you were colder than Sukuna’s attitude towards humans.

Slowly, you pried your eyes open. It felt like you’d been asleep for years, you’d been asleep for three days while the fever wore off. Sighing, you sat up, biting your lip as you winced, keeping down the hiss that threatened to leave you.

Looking down at your body, you had no pants on. Only your panties and the shirt you were wearing were sure as shit not yours. It is massive, and dropped over your body like a blanket almost. The neckline slipping over your shoulder too.

Taking the neck hem to your nose, it smelt like Sukuna. And immediately, embarrassingly enough, it had you smiling softly. However, you quickly notice a figure moving in the corner.

“You’re finally awake, brat.” Sukuna walked over, crouching down in front of you. He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, “you humans are so weak, however you are on the tail end of the fever.” His eyes glanced down at the wound on your leg, and his jaw clenched with frustration.

Because you’d hidden this from him, it’d gotten infected. The stitches you’d received from one of the servants were horrible and had only made the wound worse.

“Uraume tells me this wound will take a while to heal. It will scar,” he glared at you as he leaned in, his face inches from yours, “this is your fault, brat.”

Your brows furrowed, and you huffed, “I was fine without your help, my Lord.” Oh you were feisty. And he fucking ate it up. No one else had the balls to snap at him like you did, and you didn’t even have balls.

“You would’ve died from the fever and succumbed to your wounds without me.” He mused, raising a brow when you scoffed at him. Looking like a pissed off squirrel in his eyes. A cute one at that.

“This is why I hid it from you,” rolling your eyes, you began to try and stand, only for him to quickly push you back down by your shoulder.

“Remember who you speak to, brat.” His glare silenced you promptly, but you still had a pout on your pretty lips. “You will be staying in this room with me from now on.”

“What about the garden? That is my only duty here—“ you were a bit worried now. Sukuna was known to throw away servants who could no longer do their jobs. He’d kill them and use them as an example. But you knew damn well you were his favorite.

“What of it?” Sukuna narrowed his eyes, before sitting down in front of you, a servant came in promptly with a tray of a variety of foods, ranging from meat to fruit to sweets. “Eat.”

“Well I can’t stay here and tend to the garden… your chambers are quite far.” You tried to reason with him, before quickly snatching a chunk of steak with your hands and fucking devouring it. You were starving.

Sukuna enjoyed watching you eat like an animal far too much. It had satisfaction pooling in his stomach, yes, he’d provided for you. You, his future wife and queen.

“Your duties as a gardener have been removed, another servant has replaced your position.”

You froze mid-bite, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, “but— but that’s my job. No one else does it better than me!” You are nervous now. Your only job, the thing you were best at had been taken. Now what were you to do?

“You will remain at my side. As I had said three days ago before you passed out. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” Sukuna tilted his head slightly, before putting the meat in your hand. He grabbed a small cloth and wiped your hands and face before grabbing you by your hips and easily pulling you against his chest. Your body rested between his propped-up knees, back fitting perfectly against his chest.

“I-I… don’t remember.” Your face was a bright red as you let Sukuna move you. Swallowing nervously you tilted your head back so you could look up at him.

“Then I will remind you,” his hands came to rest on your throat, so you’d have no choice but to stare up at him, “You are my mate, my queen, and my woman. You will no longer be a simple servant. You will command all others and learn how to lead so you may lead alongside me.” He said it so easily, while you just stared at him.

And you stared.

And stared,

Before busting out laughing. “Pfft— my Lord, you shouldn’t just like that, I almost believed you.” Your laughter mellowed down to giggles as you smiled, before looking up at him again, you saw his hardened expression and shut your mouth.

“I do not jest, human.” His brows were furrowed and he pulled to a natural frown.

“M-My lord—“

“Sukuna. You are no longer my servant, do not address me as such.” He corrected, his eyes analyzing your reaction with growing amusement.

You sighed, “Sukuna, I’m not even one of your concubines, wouldn’t at least one of them be a better choice?”

“I’ve gotten rid of them.”

“What?!” Your jaw dropped as you stared at him. “Why?”

“You are the only one I need. I grew tired of their touches and crave yours. I just have to wait till your wound heals.” He mumbled and moved his chin to rest on your shoulder. His big hands came up to rest on your soft stomach, “soon you will be round with my heir.”

“Heir?!”

“Yes.”

“This is insane.”

“Sanity has nothing to do with what I plan for us.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hands gently kneaded your tummy as thoughts of you full and round with his kid popped up. Oh how ready he was to finally have you and claim you.

“…you’re serious?” You stared at the tray of food, then down at his hands that explored your torso.

“Yes. Once again, I am not joking, human.” He huffed.

“…right. I still want to take care of the garden.” You were so confident when you said that, a mistake on your end.

“Have I not made myself clear? Must I make you understand another way?” Sukuna bit down on your shoulder, making you gasp before a squeal ripped from your throat as his hand dipped underneath your panties, cupping your cunt in a way that had you aching.

“Wait—“ You tried to grab at his wrist, but he was not having it. It merely made him slip a finger into you, to prove his point.

“You are no longer a servant. I do not touch my servants like this. You will understand this.” His voice was determined and stern as he curled his finger inside you. Slowly stretching you. And while, yes, he was doing this to prove his point, he’s also been holding himself back from touching you. And this? This was a great excuse to get his hands on you… and in you.

Moaning softly, your back arched against him as his middle finger, thick and long, curled inside you. And soon, his middle finger was joined with his ring finger.

“You will learn to rule by my side, I will not have it any other way.” He spoke against your ear, finding your reactions to his touch utterly delicious.

He abandoned the gentle approach and began to quickly fuck you with his fingers. The feeling of you squirm and moan against him had his cock(s) growing hard. “Does that feel good, human? Hm?”

You nodded your head quickly, and despite the pain in your leg, you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his hand, chasing the pleasure that had your muscles taught in need.

“I can feel you tighten around me, your body is so honest.” His other hand slipped under your arm before grasping at your tits. Squeezing and kneading the soft, heavy flesh.

“Kuna-!!” Your words were slurred as you continued to work your cunt like he knew it with his eyes closed.

Sukuna merely hummed in response, happy with simply watching you fall apart against him. He sighed in satisfaction when you finally came around his fingers, and he could feel how tight you squeezed.

“When you heal, I will claim you, and then you will be fully mine.” He murmured against your ear, a smug grin rose to his lips as you just whined in response, your body already growing tired. Eyes fluttering shut, in record time your breathing evened out and you’d fallen asleep against him.

“My weak little human.” He wrapped his arms around you in a protective hold, the feeling of finally having you in his arms was one he was rapidly growing fond of.

Taglist @xyinparadise @sofi4dsam

I love garden injuries so much 😭😭😭😭

YAAAYYYAA I DID SOMETHING RIGHT 🤭😏🎊😩🥹 (ilysm)

IK THIS IS RANDOM AS FUCK BUT I WANT TO YOU TO KNOWNTHAT UR COOL AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUUUU

(Some goofy photos also)

I LITERALLT LOVE YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH AHHHH (im biting my fingers and rocking in a corner as i stare at this) I LOVE YOUU RAHHHH

Wanna abuse substances together? :3 (BE MY MOOTTTT)

I THOUGHT YOUD NEVER ASK OMGGGG OFC ILL BE YOUR MOOT (I literally love you)

Garden injuries, Sukuna R.

—in which you’re Sukuna’s gardener (future wife), and you accidentally injure yourself. And hide it from him. But he finds out anyway.

Part two, part three>>>

A/n: I need ideas, help help help help

Sighing, you stood up straight, wiping the sweat from your brow. The sun was harsh on your skin, the tan you’d worked up had brought you a shade or two darker since the beginning of this week.

You wore a simple pair of overalls, a bit baggy on you. And under, you wore a simple spaghetti strap tank top and gloves to protect your hands. Sukuna always disapproved of your clothing choice, always called it ‘peasant human attire’, he stopped when he watched you work one day, watching as sweat would roll down your neck and into your cleavage, or how your skin looked like it was practically glowing in the sun, his eyes drinking in the sight of you working hungrily.

You held a pair of pruning shears in hand as you cleaned up a bush, making sure the garden was maintained and looking gorgeous.

Pulling away from the bush, you smiled at your work, however hearing a voice behind you suddenly had you jolting. The grip on the shears loosened and it slipped between your fingers. Before promptly slicing down your thigh, creating a good size gash from your hip to lower thigh.

Gasping in pain, you bit your lip hard. The man who had snuck up on you was simply a new servant of Sukuna’s who needed to find a certain fruit that Sukuna had requested.

However, his face turned pale when he saw the accident take place. Knowing damn well how valued you are to him. “Oh my goodness— I am so sorry!”

“No no! It’s fine, not your fault. I should have been more careful,” sighing, you looked down at your bleeding leg, the pain making your knees weak and your hands clenched into fists, “lessons were learned. Don’t tell Lord Sukuna, okay? He has enough to worry about as is.” You smiled sweetly at him, despite the pain that made you want to bash your brain into a brick.

Immediately, you hobbled away to go get secret medical attention. Working hard to avoid Uraume, as well as trying to keep your heart steady so Sukuna wouldn’t get suspicious. You didn’t know how it worked, but he always told you he could hear your emotions. Which admittedly pissed you off because that meant he would read you like a book.

You’d gone and gotten yourself stitched and wrapped up. And made sure to only wear pants. Much to Sukuna’s displeasure.

Anytime you were in a room with Sukuna, you would do a 180 and leave the room, trying to walk as normally as possible. Not only was your time with Sukuna hindered, but so was your work in the garden.

It was hard to do what you needed to do with your injury, and Sukuna was quick to notice.

“Miss y/n, you’ve been summoned by Sukuna. He wishes to see you in his bed chambers.” A servant walked over to you, eyeing you curiously. No doubt wondering why you were hobbling around and not doing as good a job as you usually did.

“Right. Ok.” You nodded, hissing as you planted your foot wrong and it sent a jolt of pain up your bandaged thigh.

The walk there was terrible. You were sweating and shaking slightly due to the pain. Brows furrowed in relief when you finally made it to his bed chambers. Knocking on the large door, immediately it opened.

Sukuna stared down at you, looking furious, but immediately paused. The scent of blood and wounded flesh filled his nostrils, and he immediately yanked you inside. “Foolish human, what have you done?” He snapped and forced you to sit on his writing table.

“Ow shit!—“ cursing in pain from Sukuna plopping you down onto the table, only to be followed by him ripping the pants off of you. “H-hey— stop wait-“

Sukuna stared at the wound on your leg for a long time. His jaw clenched as he tried to calm himself down. His favorite human, no, future wife and queen, was wounded. And bad at that, it looked infected. The stitches were threatening to pop and the bandages were too tight, giving it no room to breathe.

Taking a deep breath, he summoned Uraume into the room. And they were there just like that.

“Fix this.” Pointing to the wound on your thigh, he pulled out the chair under the table and sat down. His steely glare locked onto you the entire time Uraume checked over the wound and began trying their best to repair the shitty stitching. “Why have you hidden this from me, brat?”

Your nails dug into the table, creating scratch marks as your jaw tightened in pain. Resisting the urge to yelp in pain each time Uraume wasn’t careful with their nails they’d scratch the wound or dip their finger in it.

“It wasn’t— it wasn’t, fuck,” you whimpered, tilting your head back, sweat dripping down your face and chest, your chest raising up and down with the deep, fast breaths you took, “—r-relevant.”

Sukuna stared at you, his eyes growing dark at your words. Not relevant? To him? You belonged to him. Every inch of you was relevant to him. Not only that, he would never admit it, he totally would, but the sight of you, sweaty, nails digging into the table and whimpering like that had his cock stirring in his pants. Although quickly the boner that was beginning to form immediately softened when he remembered that you were in immense pain and not pleasure.

He’d fix that later though.

“Listen to me when I say this, human,” grabbing your jaw, a tight grip but gentle in his own way, he forced you to look at him, “Every little thing you do, every breath you take, every beat of your heart, all of it. All of it is relevant to me. You are mine. My human. My woman.” He was stern as he spoke to you.

You swallowed weakly, his words had your heart racing faster and faster, and you knew he could tell because a shit-eating smirk rose to his lips.

“You cannot deny me, your own body knows it belongs to me.” His smirk was cocky, and it just had you rolling your eyes with a weak smile.

“Lord Sukuna,” Uraume got his attention quickly as they showed him the infected bits of the wound, “it is badly infected. With the way it’s spread, combined with her fever, I believe we need some medicine.”

Sukuna just nodded, “Do whatever you must. Get one of the servants to move all of her belongings to my chamber at once.”

You just groaned in relief when Uraume finally stopped digging in your gash. And let your back fall against the table. Your head resting on the table between his arms.

Sukuna rested his chin on his fist, looking down at you with dark and curious eyes. Reaching down, he let his nails gently trace your face. And he found himself growing addicted to the way you would seek his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Mm yes, you are my human,” Sukuna spoke, mainly to himself. “I will claim you when this wound heals. You will be by my side, no longer just a gardener.”

“Mmmhm…” you just hummed, not opening your eyes as you fell asleep tug at your consciousness.

I'm sorry but I keep reading your works and the way you always write fiancee as finance makes me giggle

I'm sure it's autocorrect of smth but STILL it's so funny 😭

NO STOP OMFG I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE... that's so embarrassing holy shit. (I literally love u sm for telling me)

Boyfriend texts; G.S

Random Gojo bf texts

A/n: These are kinda fun to make ngl

Gojo who...

—comes back from a mission only to get spoiled rotten by you, and it only makes him fall deeper in love with you.

He’d come home at a random 2:43 in the afternoon. Opening the door with a tired grunt, before dropping everything in the living room and making a bee line for the bedroom.

Gojo stood in the doorway for a few seconds, watching as you organized all the shit on your dresser for the nth time since Gojo had left.

He just groaned and wrapped his arms around you from behind. Exhausted. His infinity down and his body completely melted against yours, almost as if trying to mold into you.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your neck, inhaling your scent— your scent that he hadn’t had around him for an entire seven and a half days. “missed you so much, pretty.”

You smiled, leaning against him. Your hands overlapped the tops of his as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Welcome home, handsome.” Tilting your face to the side, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

Slowly, and reluctantly letting go, Gojo finally pulled away and immediately began to strip his clothes off. His back was tense, rigid with knots. “Baby?”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Because once he was just in a pair of grey sweats, and laid stomach down on the bed, you were climbing up with him.

Standing on the bed, you used the wall to help balance as you stepped onto Gojo’s back. You took little steps up and down his back, smiling and giggling when he’d groan like one of those Great Danes relaxing.

And by the time you finished walking on his back, you were quick to move to the bathroom to run him a bath. You wanted to spoil your boyfriend after his week long mission, and by golly you would do just that.

Running the water till it was steaming, you stopped up the drain so the water would stay in the tub before getting your tired lover.

“Toru, come on. A bath will feel good,” he knew you were right. You always were, but damn he just wanted to sleep. However, he let you tug him off the bed and guide him into the bathroom. Wear he slowly sunk into the hot water, hissing at the initial burn before sighing in relief as his body relaxed. All the tension leaving his body, as the scent of lavender epson salt and a vanilla cupcake candle lighting up in the corner— his favorite Yankee candle scent.

And to add onto the billion reasons he’s head over heels for you— your hands immediately begin to gently massage his scalp. Your nails raking from his hair line to the back of his head. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back against your touch. “Love you so fucking much.” He mumbled, he couldn’t be more content and loved.

You smiled and leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his forehead. “Love you more. Now just relax and let me take care of you.”

Your pampering of him didn’t stop there. No no, you would be spoiling him rotten. Because not only did you bath him, wash his hair, and do his skin care for him, but you fixed him dinner, AND gave him those little chocolates he said he wanted before he’d left for the mission.

“I’m going to impregnate you and lock you away so your mine forever.” Gojo mumbled as he tiredly ate the chocolates, a happy, dopey smile on his lips.

“I’m sure you’d try.” You snort, a grin taking on your lips as you push his back with your fingers.

“Mm…” Gojo just hummed in delight. “When you were cooking, I called and said I’d be m.i.a for a few weeks.” Gojo blurted out, your nails on his scalp were his biggest weakness.

Your grin stretched to an ecstatic smile, “wait really?”

“Yeah, so that means I’ll have you all to myself.” Gojo opened his eyes again, locking them with yours as his smile turned to a shit eating grin. “Your mine ‘n mine alone for the next three and a half weeks. Better get ready, pretty.”

Sukuna who...

—won’t let you leave his sight once he’s had you in his bed. After he’s fucking you for hours in multiple positions, and after a he ruthlessly dragged orgasm after orgasm from your poor cunt that your brain is completely empty save for him.

No, he’ll have all four arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you utterly smooshed against his chest. No chance of escape. And anytime you try to squirm away from him, his arms just tighten around you. His teeth dig into your neck as a warning bite as he side eyed you.

His behavior only gets worse from the first time he’d had you. You quickly became his favorite concubine. Leaving the other women to get jealous, especially when Sukuna announced that you would take up a permanent residence in his bed chambers.

After an ‘accident’, the concubines attacked you, Sukuna had beheaded all of them. In one day— no, in one hour. You’d quickly taken root in his brain, and if you’d ask him he’d say you were like a parasite that demanded his affection. He just loved you.

And while you were happy to become the main focus of his attention, it wasn’t all good. Especially because Sukuna refused to let you out of his sight for majority of the day. Treating you as if you were some brain dead pup who’d shatter without him.

Now that was kind of pissing you off.

Especially when, if any of the male servants try to speak with you, he’d kill them. And eat them. That bastard.

One good thing, however, was every night, or whenever he wanted really, he’d have you pressed against him, cock fucking all the way up into your cervix. Constantly folded and malleable just for him as he’d force orgasms out of you even when you thought you couldn’t give anymore.

He was obsessed. Obsessed with you, your tits, the way your ass would jiggle every time you go up a flight of stairs or when he’d spank you for being ‘naughty’. He was obsessed with way you’d always draw him a bath after he’d been out all day, even when he demanded that that was a servants job. He didn’t push hard at all.

Every little thing you did, was perfect to him. Hell even when you’d get mad and eventually start screaming at him, your face just about going red. He thought it was so fucking sexy when you were pissed at him.

Of course, he’d never apologize verbally… but he would always make you ride his face or the large and freaky mouth on his stomach. For hours. Until you said you forgave him.

Yes, ever since Sukuna had taken your virginity that first night, he was a man possessed since.

Larry Johnson who…

Refuses to let you out of bed once he has his arms wrapped around you. Back against the headboard, you between his legs with your back pressed against his chest.

You’d been moving around Larry’s apartments the entire day, cleaning every single room until it was spotless.

Larry couldn’t understand it, poor man just wanted to wrap you up in his arms, smoke a blunt and get cozy for a movie.

And it took all damn day to get you into bed with him. And when he had you with him, you wouldn’t be moving for the next four hours.

His long hair was tied into a messy bun, courtesy of you skitzing about his hair tickling your neck, and he rested his chin on your shoulder. Watching as you rolled a blunt with the manga flavored cigarillo shell you’d snagged from Sal earlier that day.

“I don’t think mango’s gonna taste good.” Larry mumbled, his breath fanning your neck.

“Hush now,” reaching behind you, you blindly touched at his face till you found his mouth, “it’ll taste amazing.”

It in fact did not. Larry coughed like it was his first time hitting a blunt and cringed. His nose wrinkling as he immediately handed it back to you. “Like I said, it doesn’t match.”

“I dunno what’s wrong with you, but this shit slaps. Thank you very much.” You just huffed, and took a deep drag before blowing it in his face.

“You are so lucky I’m in love with you.” Larry rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms tighter around you.

“You’re obsessed with me.” You grinned before paying attention to the show Larry had begged you to watch with him.

I'm in my Sally Face era for the billionth time 🤭

Gojo fucks you like he hates you when he’s drunk.

Poll result imagine

Gojo had been knocking back shots all night. Celebrating that you’d agreed to be his finance, and accepted his ring. Lord he was happy. Got the girl of his dreams, the girl he’d been plotting over since kindergarten. The girl he has been in love with since fifth grade but he’d always sworn he’d been in love since y’all had a play date when you were both three.

It was just you and him. He didn’t want to be around anyone else for now except you. Even tho he did want to eventually show you off to all his friends.

He wore a button up shirt, the buttons unbuttoned, along with a pair of slacks. The belt unbuckled and the button unbuttoned, leaving his fly slightly unzipped. His glasses had been discarded on the counter and his hair was a mess. A sexy mess albeit.

And as he’d tap his glass on the counter and tip his head back, downing the shot— his eyes would remain on yours.

You weren’t much better. Just as buzzed as he was, and just as happy to be his and he be yours. You just wore his shirt and a pair of panties.

Hair still wet from your shower. You gave him a goofy smile, pulling him closer by his shirt. “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

“You are so corny.” A lot coming from Gojo, especially as he’d always crack the corny jokes. Letting you pull him closer, his hands resting on your hips. His forehead came to rest on yours, his eyes lidded as he stared down at you.

“Yeah? You like it.” You grinned, your nails gently raking down his chest before slipping them under his shirt. The feeling of your cold hands on his abs had them tensing, a quiet hiss leaving him.

“Maybe just a bit. But you know what I really like?” Leaning down, he whispered against your ear as he reached behind you, squeezing your ass with a grin.

You giggled, letting him pull you close as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yeah? You like me so much.”

“Oh absolutely.” Gojo pressed a kiss to your neck, following with a bite. Your breath hitched softly, nails squeezing slightly on his shoulders.

“My husband is so whipped.” You teased, your hand raising to tangle with the hair on his nape. Grown out from an old undercut as you tug it gently.

Gojo groaned into your neck, the title ‘husband’ had his body reacting way more strongly than it should’ve. Cock straining against his boxers, heart thudding against his chest. “Fuck, it sounds so good when you say it.”

You could smile before finally pulling his face from your neck and pressing your lips against his. His mouth tasted like Malibu, tequila, and rum with some shitty chaser. And it only made you more eager.

You trusted your fiancé, you’d spoken about drunk before, and you’d both decided that it was fine. You trusted one another and had a safe word already in place.

Plus. Being drunk made it more interesting.

Before you knew it, Gojo had you riding his face, thighs on either side of his head, his arms wrapped around them to keep you planted firmly on his mouth. His tongue putting in the work as he ate you out like a man starved.

He was groaning and moaning, his eyes rolling back each time you squeeze your thighs around his head. His hips pushed up into nothing, painfully throbbing cock pressing against his boxers.

Your hands ran through his hair and tugged, guiding him so his nose would bump against your clit and you could grind on his face. And Gojo was loving every fucking second.

“F-fuck— Toru!!” You’d squeal, the pleasure had your brain short circuiting. Your thought process already thrown out the window from being more than sloshed with an array of alcoholic beverages, but with how good Gojo was working you with his mouth, lord the only thing you could think about was him.

“You taste so fucking good, pretty girl.” He’d groan against your cunt before shaking his head a bit, grinning when you’d moan louder. He knew you were close, the way your clit was throbbing against his tongue and your hole was clenching around the fingers he’d shoved inside was a tell-tell sign.

“Mm!” You could only loan in response as you felt an orgasm hit you full force. Your thighs clenching and your cunt tightening like a vice around his fingers.

Gojo moved you to sit on his lap as he sat up. His face, nose down, absolutely covered in your arousal, he only grinned and licked his lips.

Brows furrowed, face completely fucked out, you breathlessly murmured, “you are fucking filthy.”

“Mhmm, you gonna ride my cock? Let me put a baby in my future wife?” Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, your spazzing cunt resting directly on top of his bulge.

“Mmhm.” Nodding your head, you let Gojo move positions. You let him lay you on your back, and move you so you had the back of your thighs pressed against his chest, your ass resting just belong his cock as he pulled it out, letting it slap against your aching cunt.

“So good for me, shit. Not gonna last long baby.” He grunted, eyes already fluttering closed as you pressed down on his dick so it’d be squished between the lips of your cunt.

“Fuck me already, husband. Want it so bad.” You could only whine, and press you hands flat against his v-line, urging him to press inside you.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice.” Gojo was quick to slowly slide in, however, he didn’t stop to let you adjust, no he slid in straight to the hilt. Stuttered moans slipped past his lips, his hips struggling not to slam against you with how wet you were.

“O-oh fuck, want your babies— please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the feeling of that big stretch had your mind blank. The feeling of his dick in your guts enough to make you crave him more.

“You can’t just that,” Gojo groaned, before finally giving in and pulling out, just to slam back into you.

His hands were tight around the back of your thighs, nails digging into your soft skin as he pounded into you. His pelvis flush against your ass every time he fucked his cock into your tight cunt. Groaning and mumbling incoherent shit about how you were his wife and he’d make you pregnant as fast as fucking possible.

Your nails rake down the top of his thighs, leaving behind bright red trails that had him hissing in pain, but it only had his cock throbbing.

One hand moved off your hips, and he leaned forward so low that your knees touched your chest. One hand on the bed beside your head as he balanced and put all his weight into fucking you.

“Toru~!” You’d cry out constantly, eyes rolling back as he managed to get deeper inside you. You swore you could feel him in your guts. But then again that could just be the alcohol talking.”

“S-shit, I’m not gonna last baby.” Quickly, he moved a hand down between your thighs and only your click. Moving into tight, quick circles. “Cum with me, pretty girl. Wanna feel you cream around me as I fill you up.”

Gojo’s filthy words had you whining, but you only nodded. The extra stimulation had your back arching and your nails raking down his back inside of his thighs. It didn’t take long before you were cumming around him and he was filling your puss up to the brim with his seed.

It left you both panting breathlessly, seamlessly melting against one another as Gojo pulled around and plopped down beside you.

He immediately wrapped his arms around you, his face pressing into your chest, buried in your tits. Your thighs wrapped around his arms and your hands gently raked through his hair.

Thoroughly sated and exhausted. Your head spinning as you felt your eyes forcefully close themselves.

“I love you.” Gojo smiled and pressed a kiss to the engagement ring on your finger. Before allowing himself to pass out with you.

Your phone died.

In which… you text him first but your phone died.

(My first smau 😔)

Wait I had a stroke trying to do this shit. I think I might stick w just writing bc holy fucking shit. Also I’ll die on this hill Gojo would start tweaking.

Me when I download a text app so I can make smau where jjk men have to grovel 🤭🤭🤭🤭

Update: holy fuck why are these apps so hard to use??? Why can’t I find good ones? Someone drop me a good app to use so I can make smau’s to fill my delusions. Please.

Thank you for a 143 followers! My brain is as empty as my cart rn! So I need ideas!

Filthy drunk sex fic

Tooth rotting fluff

i loveeeee substance abuse and rats (as long as they are not near me) as wellllll what a coincidence !!!

OMG BRAIN TWIN BRAIN TWIN!!! (Ilysm🥹)

Pheromone Spray; G.S

-In which you listen to Nanami's wife and order a pheromone spray that was supposed to make your husband go feral. Only, things didn't go exactly to plan.

A/n: This will be rewritten soon.

Pulling you hair up in a bun and sliding on your reading glasses, you sat on the floor in your guest bedroom closet as you scrolled on your laptop.

You’d gone out for coffee with Nanami’s wife yesterday. And she’d been going on and on about this perfume that had her husband, yes even the saint that was Nanami, acting like a man starved.

So of course, you were intrigued. Because for as long as you knew Nanami, he was a gentleman. So if that perfume worked that well, what would happen if she tried it on Gojo?

You’d tried a few different websites to find that specific perfume that Nanami’s wife used, but it was proving more and more difficult.

Finally, however, you’d seen it on a website buried amongst the others. And all they sold was this perfume, special lube and horny edibles. So of course you bought them all, using your own card that is. The total ended up being $263.35. Which, in hindsight, was way expensive and just about drained your account of all the money you had on there, but that was fine as long as Gojo didn’t look.

Sighing, you finally closed your laptop and took off your reading glasses before pulling yourself out of the closet.

Finally stepping out of the guest bedroom, Gojo, bless his heart, had been trying to find you for near about an hour. You’d convinced him to play hide and seek with you, and this was the perfect excuse.

“Found you!” Gojo tried to be slick as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Not too good at this game are you?” Acting as if he wasn’t stress sweating from how hard he was looking.

Rolling your eyes, you just smiled. “Of course, yeah. I’m terrible at it.” Your smile turned to a shit eating grin as you looked away.

“Hey, I checked your bank funds and it says you spent about $100 on The Sims?” Gojo had a teasing grin on his lips as you immediately pulled away, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” you groaned, “I needed to get some more outfits but the patreon cost money and then I went down this rabbit hole.”

“Oh baby. Poor sweet baby. Of course you’d fall for shit like that.” Gojo sighed and pet your head, only for you to bite him. “Ow! If you wanted to fuck just say that!” He whined.

A month, a whole fucking month later, the package finally came in. And the packaging was pleasantly discrete.

You’d never yanked a package from the front porch so fast, immediately racing into your secret hideout, the guest bedroom, you locked the door, then ripped open the packaging. Smiling as you sniffed the perfume, it didn’t smell bad at all, it really smelled like your usual body mist you used.

Quickly, you spritzed it on, using probably way too much but you really wanted to see it work.

Grabbing the box, you hid it under the bed but paused when you heard the front door open and close. Shit. You’d forgotten Gojo had to go into the office.

But wait. This was perfect. You could try it out on him there. And if it did work, well, you could just giggle while Gojo struggled.

Immediately, you grabbed your keys and hopped into your car. Breaking a few traffic laws on the way there. You were just so excited. You loved watching the infamous Gojo Satoru, your finance, struggle. It just made you laugh every time. For example, you’d worn the Mean Girl’s Christmas outfit for Halloween last year, and refused to let Gojo touch you. So he was forced to rock a boner the entire way to the party, the whole party, and the way home. Of course when you got home he fucked you as hard as he possibly fucking could.

Walking into the office, you made a bee line for Gojo’s office. You didn’t notice other men at the office watching you. You had tunnel vision.

On the way there you had grabbed one of those bagels Gojo adored as an excuse to be there. Walking into his office, you smiled innocently. “Hey baby, you forgot to eat breakfast.” Setting down the little bag on his desk, you stood behind it, leaning back on it as you faced him.

Gojo smiled brightly, “Oh my god I’ll combust I love you so fucking much.” He near about moaned when he smelt the bagel. “I love you, I love you, I love you— is that a new perfume?” His eyes immediately locked onto your neck before glancing back up at you.

“Ummm, yes! Nanami’s wife gave it to me.” You laughed a little nervously, before tilting your head, “you like it?”

“Yeah you smell really good.” Gojo stood up from his chair, his hands leaning on the wood of the desk on either side of you as he pressed his face into your neck. “Really good.”

“Yeah? That good huh?” You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling his nose press against your neck like he was getting his fix or some shit.

“Fuck. Too good.” Gojo groaned, his pants growing tighter as a boner formed in his pants. His heart racing and his mouth growing dry.

One hand moved from the desk to grip your hip, bringing you flush against his body. “Shit,” he groaned into your neck, before pulling his face away and staring down at you.

About to say something, the door swung open to his office, and Nanami’s wife appeared. She paused, before smelling perfume and giggled. “You got it! Oh my god!”

Nanami appeared behind her, an amused look in his eye as he watched Gojo be in the same predicament as he was not even a week prior.

“I believe the ladies would like to go out for lunch. You have some paper work to fill out.” Nanami gave Gojo a stern look.

Gojo didn’t take his eyes off you before forcibly prying them away and looking at Nanami, “oh come on, my finance is here to see me.”

You grinned before pressing a kiss to his jaw sweetly, all while your hand teasingly trailing over his bulge.

Gojo had to muffle a groan, “y-you—“

“I love you baby, I’ll see you at home okay?” You winked at him before walking out with Nanami’s wife, giggling like school girls.

“What the fuck.” Gojo sat down with a grunt, his brows furrowed in frustration as he started down at the bulge in his pants.

“I tried to tell her it wasn’t a good idea to tell your fiancé.” Nanami sighed, about to turn around to head back to his own office before Gojo stopped him.

“Wait what do you mean? Tell her what?” Gojo eyed Nanami suspiciously.

“The pheromone perfume? My wife pulled that ridiculous prank on me last week. While I’ll admit, she did it at home so it wasn’t really a problem.” He pulled at his collar slightly as he remembered the hours he spent ‘reminding’ his wife about what he thought of her pranks. He fucked her all night and took off work the next day to use the perfume again.

“You’re joking.” Gojo stared at him, his jaw clenched. “And she’s just gonna leave me like this?”

Immediately, he pulled out his phone to look at her bank account, noticing that she only had $1.22 left and that she’d spent $263.35 on that fucking perfume. “Well shit.” Pulling out his phone, he immediately sent the text that he’d be waiting for her at home, and that’d he’d needed to come early due to ‘being sick’.

“He loved it! Loveddddd it!!!” You smiled widely as you spoke with Nanami’s wife, all giggles and smiles when you got that text. “Wait, shit. He said he’s not feeling good, do you think he’s sick from it?”

Immediately your face dropped, “can that happen?” Looking over at your friend, concern written all over it.

“It didn’t happen with me and Ken, but I don’t know. Gojo may be allergic to it?” She frowned.

“Here, I need to head home. Can I pay you back for the lunch tomorrow?”

“Nonsense. I got you into this mess. Go make sure he’s okay, I know you’re worried.” Nanami’s wife shooed you off and you were thankful as you rushed home.

Walking inside, you looked around and noticed all the lights were off. “Baby? I’m home. You said you weren’t feeling well, what’s wrong?” Turning on the light, you walk into the kitchen not noticing Gojo, who was in nothing but a pair of grey sweats. The outline of his painful looking boner showing through the fabric.

“Welcome home.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind, glaring down at you, “your little perfume prank today was not very funny.” He huffed.

“Wha-“ You paused, “wait. How did you find out about it?”

“Nanami.” Gojo pressed a kiss to your shoulder, all the way up your neck before biting down hard on your shoulder making you gasp. “Fuck you still smell so good.”

“You can’t blame me, the way she said it drive Nanami crazy… I just wanted to try it on you.” You tried to be all cute and sweet, but he was not having it.

“I can blame you. Because you left me there to deal with it all on my own.” His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, before roughly palming at your breast. “You’re so mean to me.”

A soft whine slipped past your lips as you let your weight lean against him. The feeling of his large hands roughly grabbing all over your body had your thighs squeezing shut.

“But this is what you wanted right? Hm baby? Wanted me to be rough and manhandle you, that it?” His voice was mocking and his tone condescending. Teeth nipping at your neck and jaw as he ground against your ass. Stuttered and breathless moans were muffled as he buried his face in your shoulder.

“Y-yeah, wanted you to be rough with- fuck, with me.” Placing your hands against the cold granite of the counter, you leaned forward so you could your ass against him completely, moaning softly when he’d grip your hips roughly before pressing into you.

“You definitely need to be punished.” Gojo nodded to himself, pupils huge and dark, his hair sticking to his forehead as a light layer of sweat coated his skin, “and you’re not getting out of it anytime soon.”

In a way, your plan worked. You got to see him squirm at work. And in the end you got what you wanted, just for a lot, lot longer than you’d imagined. Seeing as Gojo didn’t even show up to work the next day as he was far too busy fucking you in every room and on every piece of furniture in the house.

I mean from the bed, to the dress, to the floor and closet. To the shower, to the hallway and to the kitchen. And all throughout the house.

By the time Gojo was finally shooting blanks and his cock was so sensitive that he’d hiss if you were to touch it, he finally began to calm down.

And instead of punishing you more by making you sit on his face while your overstimulated, he just wraps his arms around your naked and exhausted body and refuses to let go.

Lololol I love the idea of some shitty perfume making your bf go batshit crazy for some puss.

MASTERLIST and RULES

Minors DO NOT INTERACT. Ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, or upload it to another platform! Don't ask me to write threesomes. Or anything that wouldn't be allowed on Pornhub, (rape, sa, noncon, etc.). Don't request any piss, shit, incest or stepcest. Istg I will tweak. Be nice in the comments. All of my Sally Face fics, regardless of fluff or not, are all during or after they start college. So all are 18+, unless it's a cute little high school bit.

🌶️- spicy 🌸- fluffy 💔- angst ☀️- funny/crack 💔🌸 - hurt/comfort 💔🥀- hurt/no comfort

JJK imagines;

Gojo Satoru

"Why are you so clingy?" 💔🥀 “Why are you so clingy?” P.2 💔☀️ "Why are you so clingy?" P.3 💔🌸 "Why are you so clingy?" P.4 🌸🌶️ "Why won't you marry me?!" 💔🌸 Jealousy🌶️ Morning sex🌶️🌸 Let me pamper you🌸 Drunk sex 🌶️ Pheromone perfume 🌶️ Outrageous positions🌶️ Plotting🌶️🌸 They go low, you go lower☀️ You have an RBF☀️ He threw it all away💔 Your insecure💔🌶️ Backshots and missionaries 🌶️ Useless💔 Single? Finally.💔🌸 Freaky in the club.🌶️ Cowgirls and Rodeos ☀️ Long missions🌶️🌸 Big ass n beach sex🌶️ Secret gym visits💔🌸 You're a crashout☀️ Dating Hc's🌸🌶️ He drops you on accident🌸☀️ "We're breaking up" , "Wrong." 💔🌸 Secret super sex drive🌶️

Sukuna Ryomen

Garden injuries🌸 Garden injuries p.2🌶️🌸 Garden injuries p.3🌸 He's obsessed with you.🌶️

JJK various

Are you cheating on me? 🌶️☀️

JJK Smau;

You text first but your phone died, G.S.☀️ Boyfriend Texts, G.S.☀️ You left the bed for Wafflehouse various ☀️ You dreamt they cheated on you Various ☀️ Happy Valentines! Oh nvm. 💔🥀

Happy valentines! Oh nvm. P.2 💔🥀🌶️

Sally Face Imagines;

Larry Johnson

Trapped in his arms🌸 Metal concert hc's☀️🌶️

Gojo who fucks you in outrageous positions just to be petty.

(This is short as shit)

“O-oh fuck—“ Your nails dragged down his back. Your muscles aching but the pleasure was just too good.

“You can take it-, fuck, don’t run from it.” He had that annoyingly sexy grin on his face. Knowing damn well there was no possible way you could run from his cock.

He had you pressed against the wall, leg straight up, and ankle by his head, while you balanced on one foot and leaned against the wall. He’d called it the ‘lustful leg’.

Gojo had an arm wrapped around your thigh, and the other on your hip as he slammed in and out of you. This position, thank god for your flexibility, had him going so much deeper. Way too deep at first because you swore he was in your guts.

And that wasn’t just the only position. Because immediately after this bastard busts a load inside you, he is hoisting you up. The back of your thighs are flush against his chest, and his hands have a bruising grip on your ass as he once again bullies his cock inside you.

This wasn’t just sex. No this was a fucking work out. Suicides runs couldn’t wear you out as much as these damn positions.

“So, what if we try the ‘socket’?” Gojo looked at you with an eager grin but you just flipped him off.

Your body ached but at the same time felt so damn good. You finally let it melt into the mattress with a groan as your spine decompressed.

“What book did you buy?” You pulled your face out of the pillow and glared at him.

“…the Kama Sutra-“

“I’m burning that book.”

“Baby nooo!”

Imagine Gojo has been plotting on you for years and finally has you.

Your head ached, eyes sensitive to light and the nausea you felt had you feeling violent. Of course, this is what you get for chugging back a whole bottle of red wine.

Slowly sitting up, you finally forced your eyes open. Looking around, you blinked. This was not your ratty ass apartment. Your eyes locked with a picture of you and Gojo. And immediately, the familiarity of the room began to catch up with you.

You immediately looked down when you heard a deep groan. Just as naked as you, Gojo had an arm wrapped around your waist. His pale skin was littered in bites and hickies. And you couldn’t see it yet, but there was plenty of scratch marks.

“Shit.” Sighing, your rubbed your hands over your face trying to remember what happened. What could have lead to you fucking your best friend since highschool.

You tried to slip out of his hold, but this mf had a tighter grip that gorilla glue. In fact, the more you tried to squirm out, the tighter he held you. It was like you were drowning in quick sand.

“Gojo.” You glared down at him, and that was when you noticed the shit eating grin on his face. His eyes still closed.

“Mm-mm. It’s Satoru to you baby, ‘specially after last night.” He sounded so god damn cocky.

You could only roll your eyes, a red hue lit up your cheeks as you finally squeezed out of his arms. Immediately, you walked to the mirror.

You were covered in hickies and bite marks. “Now what the fuck.” You tried to sound angry, fuck did you try. But it was damn hard.

You were hot. Gojo was hot. You’d been two peas in a pod in highschool. And sure you ‘experimented’ in high-school with him, mainly letting him be your first kiss and first make out but that was it. You two never had any privacy between each other. You’d cuddle together, cry together, you’d tell him how you got fucked by a one night stand and he’d just insult the guy the whole time (he wanted to be the one fucking you). But this? Actually have sex with him? Shit.

“What happened last night?” You spoke up as you snatched his shirt from the ground and pulled it over your head. The fabric falling to your mid thigh and a little lower.

“Well, i had you face down ass up, then tried that side ways position I saw from twi-“ Gojo was so smug about it too.

“Not that, you asshat! I know we both drank a shit ton of wine…” closing your eyes, you rubbed your temples. However, you felt two strong arms wrap around you waist.

“What’s wrong? You regret it?” Gojo rested his chin on your shoulders, his hands, much bigger than yours, massaged the soreness from your hips where he’d definitely squeezed to hard when giving you back-shots that night prior.

You stayed silent for a moment, growing a little shy as you murmured, “no.”

And just like that Gojo’s shit eating grin was back. He was happier than a man who won the lottery. “I for one don’t regret it.” His hands rose to your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Been plotting on your fine ass since freshman year.”

You blinked at him, wondering if you’d misheard him. “Wait what?”

“You heard me.” His arms wrapped around you completely as he littered kisses all over your neck. “You’re mine now.”

A slow smile took on your lips and you leaned back against him. You found yourself not minding that much. Or at all.

“If that’s true, I guess I can admit that I had a crush on you in 8th grade.” You laughed when Gojo stared at you bewildered.

“No! NOOO!” He was whining like he just got shot. “Why didn’t you make a move?! We could’ve been highschool sweethearts!”

“You- you’rere so weird.” You snorted.

I LOVE ERIKA

Imagine Gojo’s ex gets in a fight w you but when they go low you go lower.

“Babe let’s just go.” Gojo tried to pull you back, but was looking more than amused as you stared between you and his ex.

“Oh hell no, this bitch wants to talk, we’ll talk.” You glared at the woman across from you, lip curled in disgust.

“And what the fuck you got to say? You got my sloppy seconds bitch!”

“Bold of you to act like you all that and a bag a chips. Especially when you spread your legs that shit smells like Formaldehyde and rat piss.” Crossing your arms, you stared that bitch right in the eye. “Dead rat coochie smells better than the jungle gym you have going on down there.”

She just stared at you, her mouth opening and closing. “You- you- fuck you two! You’re ugly and he’s a bitch!” Grabbing her purse she walked off with her middle finger up behind her.

“You know we never got to third base right?” Gojo immediately spoke up, eyeing you like you were a fucking bomb.

“Shut up. No sex for a week. I cannot believe you ever dated that bitch.” Scoffing you just pulled Gojo forward, your pointer finger interlocking with his.

I make myself laugh

me: feeling like I'm using the words your and you too much, but I'm fucking writing in the second person.

Gojo dating a woman with a rbf.

Tw: random man being a man, you have an rbf, mentions of sitting on Gojo’s face, y’all are literally the best couple, rlly short.

(Pls comment or use my ask thingy on my pf things yall want me to write ab. It don’t gotta be Gojo or jjk either 🙏)

It was a beautiful day. You and Gojo were happy as could be, going from spot to spot on foot. You’d insisted on forcing Gojo to act normal and not filthy fucking rich. And he was actually enjoying it.

He’d had an arm either wrapped around your shoulders or a hand on your waist all day.

And you’d smile at his jokes or when he’d point at cute or cool shit.

However, while Gojo knew you were having a good time, the general public did not.

You were a beautiful young woman yes, but goddamn was your rbf a bad one. I mean it looked like someone had pissed in your cereal and stole all your favorite clothes.

When you weren’t smiling, your face was resting.

And when it was resting people would stare.

Most would whisper “someone’s in the doghouse” “wonder what that guy did” “what crawled up her ass and died”

Yk shit like that cuz humans are shit talkers through and through.

You and Gojo were sitting in a cute little restaurant. It was packed to the brim, the house was full to its ass and the hostess was swamped as she juggled servers who begged not to be sat but had to be sat.

You and Gojo sat in calm silence as you zoned out on his forehead. It happened sometimes and Gojo loved it because it meant he could stare and admire you.

However, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a couple of guys staring in y’all’s direction. One of them even pointed at you.

Immediately, you turned to Gojo “fuck, babe is there shit on my face?” You were ready to be mortified but Gojo just shook his head.

“No pretty, there’s nothing on your face. Except those pretty eyes that I’m waiting to make roll back when we get home.” Gojo grinned and leaned in, that shit eating grin on his face.

You just rolled your eyes, a pretty smile rising to your lips. However, you noticed one of those guys freeze mid step as he was apparently approaching you.

He blinked, seemingly confused. Did you have some batshit crazy mood swings or were you just fucking with your boyfriend?

Gojo turned his head to look at the man. “Can I help you?” He was just as confused as you. “What you wanna an autograph? Man I know I’m famous but-“

“You should smile more. It’s really pretty.” The young man stared at you, although his brows furrowed when your face dropped.

“Get the fuck outta here.” Your lip curled in disgust, “fucking men.”

“Baby come on we’re leaving. I’m angry and wanna sit on your face.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.” Gojo just dropped a $180 on the table and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. However as y’all passed the guy, he turned his head and mouthed a thank you.

YALL MY FRIEND LOOK ME DEAD IN THE EYE AND SAID I HAD THE BITCHIEST RESTING FACE.

You loved him. But he threw it away.

Tw: I cried writing this, Angst angst and more angst, Cheating, Break up, Alcohol, Betrayal, short blurb, bad living situations/financial problems mentioned.

Song: crawling back to you - hozier cover.

You adored him. Everything about him. Your eyes were so full of love when you looked at him. Always that some, head over heels, puppy love, doe-eyed look. You gave him everything.

Gojo looked down at you, and you were just staring at him, admiring him, adoring him. He was your everything.

“Something on my face?” He’d smile, that cute little grin on his lips that you adored.

“You’re so perfect.” You’d whisper so softly it would take Gojo’s breath away. That look of love had his heart skipping a beat and his knees growing weak.

You two were at a party. You were dressed in a cute little outfit, and had been sipping on the same beer all night. Gojo however was about four shots deep. He was definitely more than tipsy.

But he’d always return to you, giggling like a love sick fool, wrapping his arms around you like you were his life line.

However, tonight was different.

You couldn’t find him.

Where was he?

You’d pour your drink out and throw it away, before asking around for him.

You started from the front of the house, all the way to the back.

“Have you seen my boyfriend? Gojo?” You would gently tap on people’s shoulders. Feeling an uneasy feeling settle in the pit of your stomach the longer you couldn’t find him.

You finally stopped asking around and just began opening doors. The bathroom? Had two strangers making out. A bedroom? Someone was throwing up all over the duvet.

However, it wasn’t until you made it to the last door. Without hesitation, you opened it. But your heart shattered the moment your eyes landed on the bed.

Gojo had some stranger riding him.

That wasn’t even the worst part, because when he looked over at you, it was like he didn’t recognize you. His eyes were so fogged by lust and alcohol, that he thought you were some stranger.

“We’re kinda busy. Unless you wanted to join? You have a nice enough body.” He’d wink at you, before turning his attention back to the woman riding him.

Tears were rolling down your face before you could stop them. Your breath was stuttered. Throat tight and mouth dry.

Slowly, stiffly turning away, you began to walk out of that house. Step by step, your heart breaking.

You loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. So much so that you never even imagined that he could do this. You loved him so hard that his actions left your heart cracked and in ruin.

You walked home that night. Feet sore and cracked, bleeding a bit around the heel from how far you walked.

But when you made it home, you just sat down and stared at the wall. You didn’t make a sound, you couldn’t. You were in denial. But what followed denial was a sadness you weren’t ready for. It was the kind of sadness that left you empty.

White lashes fluttered open and groan heaved past his lips. Gojo sat up slowly, holding his head. “Fuck I’m hung over… baby?” Feeling to his left, he felt his hand touch someone. But when he looked over, it wasn’t you. It was some stranger.

He inhaled sharply and immediately shot out of bed. Tripping over his feet as he got dressed. He’d never moved so fast in his life.

Scrambling out the door, he called an uber. And when the car parked, he rushed into your shared home.

He saw you on the couch, still awake. Your eyes were red and your face was puffy, you looked exhausted but your face was empty.

But when you looked at him, he crumbled.

Your look of love and complete and utter adoration, was gone. Replaced by something that knocked the air from his chest and had him swallowing thickly.

“Y/n- I-I-“ he knew you knew. How could you not when you looked at him with such sorrow? Such pain? Such betrayal? “It’s- it’s not what it seems like.”

You just stared at him. That ache in your chest was heavy. So heavy it was hard to look away. “Have a nice night?” You mumbled, your voice hoarse from crying so hard the night before.

Gojo’s brows furrowed and his eyes grew glassy. That feeling of guilt began to swallow him whole. The guilt that made his limbs heavy and his eyes burn. “Baby- please,” he begged. He didn’t know what for. Forgiveness? For you to just be angry at him? To yell and to scream instead of looking at him like he just destroyed your hopes and dreams. And he had.

Slowly, you stood up. “I hope it was worth it,” you murmured before grabbing your phone and leaving the house. Not looking back as you left Gojo to hold onto his chest to try and calm the pain.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean for this- I- I was drunk I-“ he spoke to himself. But even his own words felt alien to his ears.

He’d ruined 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. Just for moments of pleasure. He threw away your relationship, your love, your future… and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

So in your shared home, he’d never felt more alone. Clarity brought pain, pain that he was to blame. Of course he was. His own inner voice mocked him. His nails dug into his knees as began to cry. To mourn his own mistakes, to mourn the loss of you.

He’d ruined everything.

But he wouldn’t let this be the end.

He could fix this.

Couldn’t he?

It’d been two months since his betrayal. Two months since you’d left him standing there. Two months since you took your belongings and left your shared home.

Two months since he’d seen you.

His mistakes had left him broken. But he knew he could only blame himself. It didn’t hurt any less.

You’d left behind a hoodie, and it smelled like you still do this day. Gojo made sure to spray your perfume on his pillows so they’d still smell like you.

Your eyes hung low. You were tired. Exhausted. You’d had to get a job as a waitress to pick up the income that Gojo’s absence left you without.

You were working exhaustingly long shifts. Picking up doubles when you could. Having almost no off days.

You’d lost weight. You didn’t look well. You were worked to the bone, but you didn’t have time to apply for a better job. Rent was so expensive, even in the shitty neighborhood you now lived in.

Retying your apron, you grabbed a pen before heading to a new table. Not yet looking up, you greeted the guest. “Welcome to Joseph’s boil, how can I hel-…” your words fell on the tip of your tongue as you saw him.

He was just as shocked as you. His shock turned to worry and concern. He’d never seen you in such poor condition. Was it possible for someone to look the way you did in just two months?

His heart ached but rejoiced as he finally was able to see you again. To hear your voice. To inhale your scent.

“Y/n?” He said your name so softly.

His voice broke the flood gates. Your hands had started shaking and your bottom lip quivered. Your pretty eyes turned glassy with so much emotion not even the finest author could put it into words.

Slamming down your apron, you quickly fled the restaurant. Despite the heavy rain or the fact that you were getting soaked.

“Wait!” Gojo got up from his seat, the chair falling back with an ear piercing screech.

He ran after you. His shirt sticking to his form as water drenched him just as much as it drenched you.

“Leave me alone!” You yelled, your voice pathetically shaky. You choked on your words as you cried and tried to speed off.

“No! Please- please just wait!” He managed to catch up and grab you by the wrist and pull you back in.

“Get off of me!” You yelled, and tried to yank yourself out of his grip but he wrapped his arms around you and you held you against him. Even as you pounded your fists against his chest. “I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Your words pierced his heart, your tears felt like acid on his skin but he held you close. Held you even when your body just went limp against him.

“I hate you…” you’d whimper into his chest, sobbing as everything came crushing down on you at once. “How could you do this to me?! Why?!”

“I don’t know. Im so sorry,” was all he could whisper.

And at the end of the day, even when you were just holding each other in the rain, nothing could repair the pain he left forever in your heart. The insecurity and trust issues he planted in your soul. Nothing would ever fix what he broke.

You’re insecure and Gojo just wants to make you feel goo.

Tw: insecurities, praise, nsfw, angst with comfort, happy ending, body worship, short blurb (I’m high and it’s 2:00 pm)

His hands were everywhere. Grabbing your hips, waist and reaching up to pull your head to the side by your hair so he could mark up your neck.

“Gojo…” you’d whine, hands clutching his shirt. He had you pinned against the wall. You two had gotten back from a banquet, and you were in the prettiest black dress.

“Ah.” He’d huff in annoyance when you’d use his family name. So formal still. “That’s not my name, pretty.”

Sighing, your cheeks a bright red, “𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 please.” You’d beg so sweetly.

However, when he actually began to unzip your dress, you inhaled sharply and quickly dropped to your knees.

This would be the first time he’d ever see you naked and… you were scared. You’d always had problems with body image, and Gojo was so pretty… you didn’t want him to be grossed out by you. Even tho you were literally drop dead gorgeous.

Gojo blinked in surprise when you had gone to your knees so quickly. And as happy as he was to receive a blow job from you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Hey wait, come back up here baby.” He’d speak so softly as he pulled you back up.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him nervously, your nails digging into your palms to try to and calm yourself.

“Why are you hiding from me?” He cupped your cheeks in his hands and rest his forehead against yours.

“What- what do you mean?” You had to swallow down the nerves to speak, avoiding his eyes as you instead looked at his nose.

“You’re doing it again. Look at me.” He would tilt your chin up so you’d have to look at him. “You know you’re gorgeous, right?”

“Satoru…” you’d sigh, feeling the need to pull away and lock yourself in the bathroom.

“Mm-mm.” He shook his head, clicking his tongue, “this won’t do.” Gojo guided you back to the bed before laying you down. “You’re 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. In every single way.” He’d kiss your jaw, then your neck, then the tops of breasts. Before slowly unzipping your dress.

His words made your cheeks flush and your thighs tighten. Your mind becoming all soft and fluffy at his praise.

“I could spend a millennia studying your body,” he’d murmur against the skin of calf as he pulled your dress off you slowly, “and not find a single flaw.”

His eyes raked over your figure and he could feel his cock throb in his boxers. “You’re so beautiful it hurts.” Kissing back up your thigh, stomach and chest, he finally kissed your lips.

And instead of wanting to hide, you felt more confident. Knowing you had this effect on THE Gojo Satoru? You definitely felt a little better.

“Ok.”

“Okay?” Gojo parroted your words, his eyes low as kept eye contact with you.

“Okay. I believe you.” You’d smile before pressing your lips against his once more, wrapping your thighs around his hips to pull him in.

“There she is.” He’d murmur against your lips, groaning as he’d grind against your panty clad cunt.

When gojo is giving you back shots and missionaries come to his door. (I’m high as shit)

Tw: smut no plot, pre established relationship, backshots, Christianity, short blurb.

“Fuck- o-oh fuck- no come on, don’t run from it pretty.” Gojo had you pressed face down ass up with a mean arch in your back. His hand was on your nape and his other holding your hip in an iron grip as he slammed his cock in and out. The sound echoed all throughout the house as his pelvis snapped against your ass.

His hand eventually coming down to slap it and grab the fat. Groans and moans constantly leaving him as he tilted his head back when you tightened around him.

“F-feels so- so good!” You breathlessly moaned, hands near about ripping the sheets from how tight your holding them.

Your eyes were rolling back and you were getting so close to finishing to. That was until the bell rang.

Gojo rolled his eyes as just fucked you harder, but the bell kept ringing. Over. And over. And over again.

Finally Gojo’s jaw clenched and his face soured as he was forced to pull out. Pressed a kiss to your shoulder he slipped on a pair of grey sweats and walked to the front door. Yanking it open, he glared down at the people at his door.

Two men, one fat and one really short, stood there. A pamphlet in hand with an image of Jesus on the cross, “would you like to join our church?”

“No.” Gojo was so quick to answer, his knuckle white on the door frame. His cock was throbbing so hard, knowing that you were in bed waiting for him.

“Sir, you should reconsider. The lord accepts all who rep-“

“Toruuu! Come back baby, I need you.” You called out for him, your voice a sultry whine.

The men blinked a few times, in shock at what they heard.

“I said no. Fuck off.” Slamming the door in their face, Gojo locked before ripping off his sweats and getting back into bed with you.

Wasting no time to bully his cock back into you and keep giving you backshots.

𝘜𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 

Tw: drugs, fighting, messy relationship, injuries, car wreck, break up, death, Gojo crashes out, hurt/no comfort, insecurities. Gojo x retiredSorcerer!reader

It had been a long day. A very, very, fucking long day. For the both of you. Gojo had been running around all day fucking up some curses and being ordered around like a dog by the elders, whereas you've been dealing with people.

You'd been retired as a sorcerer for a little bit now, mainly because of a severe hip injury that makes it hard for you to be able to do sorcerer things. So you got a job at a bakery to keep yourself busy and also contribute to your and Gojo's bills, while it's not much, it's something.

It was so fucking busy. I mean there was a line around the fucking block just for a god damn muffin.

You'd gotten into a screaming match with your coworker, then some fuckass customers. And your whole day was like that. A 12 hour shift. Spent serving ungrateful assholes.

So you were ready to come home and just decompress. You were hoping to rant and smoke a joint before your boyfriend got home. You never did tell Gojo about it, he always got too concerned for your lungs.

When you finally got home, your boyfriend was already there. He was sat at the kitchen table drinking water and scrolling on his phone.

So with a sigh, you put your keys down, "hey baby, how was your day?" You murmur, looking over at him.

"Great, yours?" Gojo looked up finally, he was pretty tired looking but you had you face in the freezer.

"Let me tell you," and here came the decompressing rant.

You started with how busy it was, followed by all the shitty customers and went into detail.

However, you hadn't noticed how long you'd been talking. You just kinda let your mind lose. But it wasn't until you finally got out of the fridge did Gojo speak up.

"Ok, fuck- stop talking! Can you shut the fuck up? I mean damn! I didn't ask for all that! Just say good and move on!" He yelled, loud enough to have you jump back a little. He glared at you for a long moment before getting up and going to the bedroom.

You just kind of stood there in shock. I mean, what else could you do? Even tho your feelings were hurting like a motherfucker, you opened y'all's bedroom door, "baby? You oka-"

"No! Damn! Get the fuck out! You're not even a sorcerer anymore! All you do is work at some shop! It's not that hard! All you do is bitch and complain. I get it that you wanna be useful but you can't. You fucked up YOUR knee and now you're useless! That's your fucking problem!" He was actually screaming at you. The veins in his forehead were popping out and his face was red and everything.

You just stared at him before stepping into the room and reaching into your panty drawer to pull a box. You just silently walked out of the room, grabbed your car keys and your wallet before leaving the house. And you slammed the door behind you, and I mean you slammed that shit so hard that picture frames fell off the walls and shattered.

You got in your car, and you left.

Gojo looked at where you stood, before his head snapped up when the door slammed. "Y/n-" the sound of glass shattering had him walking into the living room. First he noticed the mess, then the sound of the car skidding out of the drive way.

Groaning, he sat on the couch, hands covering his face. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He murmured, his hands balling up in his hair.

He felt like a piece of shit. He just screamed the most unacceptable shit to his girlfriend. For just trying to tell him about her day.

The more he thought about it the heavier the guilt felt until his chest was aching. Looking at his phone, he went to Life360, only to see you weren't in the circle anymore. He couldn't see your location.

So he immediately tried to call you. No answer. He tried to text you, it went green. You'd blocked him.

"Shit..." he leaned back in the couch and sighed. His gaze moving towards the broken glass on the floor. He could at least clean up...

And he did just that. It took a little while to clean the floor, then get the pictures in new frames and while he was at it he did the cleaning chores. By the time he was done it was 9pm. You'd left at 7pm. And still weren't home. 

But without your location, and him yawning every five seconds, he just decided to give you space and lay down. The second he laid down he passed the fuck out.

You didn't come home till late. I mean late late. Like around 2am. You'd parked all wonky and shit in the driveway, and wobbled right back up inside. Your eyes were red as fuck, barely open as you opened the door to your porch before closing it. Sitting down on one of rocking chairs, you just stared out at the sky. Your face was red from crying, puffy with tear streaks running down your face.

You were hurting. You didn't know Gojo thought that poorly of you. And to call you useless? Wow. It was already hard enough going from a high grade sorcerer to basically a cripple.

Sighing, you just rested your head on the back of the rocking hair and closed your eyes. The weed already had you sleepy as fuck, so it was easy to just drift off.

Waking up in the morning was rough. You had slept in a bad position, and the metal plate in your help, along with the arthritis had flared up. Groaning, you slowly stood up, your teeth clenching as you didn't put any weight on your bad hip.

Slowly, you walked inside, grunting and grumbling quietly as you hobbled into the living room, then into the bedroom. You expected Gojo to be gone already, or at least not in the house. But no, he was just waking up.

Glaring at him, you scoffed before grabbing a towel and some clothes, and the essentials from the shared bathroom, just to hobble into the guest bathroom. And you made sure to lock that door behind you to.

And that proved to be a good decision, because as you got naked, the white haired fucker himself knocked on the door.

"Pretty? I need to talk to yo-" he tried to open the door but it was locked. Something he was not used to at all. Usually yall would shower together, or at the very least have the door wide open. The door being locked had his throat tightening, he wanted to break the fucking door so he could get to you, especially when you he heard you grunt as you got into the shower.

"Is your hip hurting you?" He asked softly through the door, his heart breaking when he heard you grab the wall with a thud. Yeah. He knew it was probably flaring up. "Let me in so I can help y-"

"I don't need your fucking help! I'm not a goddamn vegetable and I'm not that fucking useless so just fuck the hell off!" You yelled, your voice strained. You'd never snapped at him like that. But of course he'd never screamed at you like he did yesterday either.

Gojo stared at the door, his jaw clenching as he tried the doorknob one more time. "...I'll be waiting in the bedroom when you get done." He mumbled before walking back to the bedroom.

Regardless of what you'd said, you did need help. You couldn't even bend over. And it had you crying out of frustration.

You were the shower for a long time. And when you got out, you only stared at your body. You used to have some insanely strong thighs, but they'd lost the muscle and just looked pudgy and soft. Your toned torso became the same, soft to the touch.

And all while Gojo's words from yesterday repeated in your head over and over again.

The shower was a struggle, sure, but it was harder to get your underwear and shorts on. But when you were done, you finally left the bathroom. Having to use the wall for support.

Going into the bedroom, you ignored Gojo and opened your bedside drawer so you could get some pain killers. Taking three too many, you dry swallowed them.

"Y/n that is way too many! Let me at least get you some water, I mean you know what the doctor sai-" Gojo tried to help you, but you just wouldn't accept it.

"Don't worry about it. It's not your problem." You sent him a sharp glare then hobbled your way back into the living room.

"No- no. Y/n— listen, I was wrong yesterday. I shouldn't have said those things at all, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it." Gojo tried to reach for you, but you slapped his hands away.

"Then why would you fucking say that to me? Calling me useless? Just because your the worlds strongest or whatever bullshit the elders tell you doesn't mean you get to talk like that!" You snapped at him again, jamming your finger into his just hard enough to make him back up. "And if I was such a burden to you, then why the fuck would you date me?!" You were yelling now.

"No- baby, you're not useless, at all. You're stronger than me- so much so. Please, it had just been a long day yesterday and I just... got overwhelmed." He grabbed your hand and held it in his, his brows furrowed as he pleaded with you.

"I don't give a fuck who you are, Gojo, you will never, EVER, talk to like that." Glaring at him you snatched your hand away from him, "don't fucking touch me." You left him standing there, lips parted and the most pathetic look on his face.

You had been together for a year and a half now, and never had you ever spoken to him like that, and he never to you.

But it seemed like he was just digging a deeper grave for himself. He knew you were angry, upset and hurting but he didn't want to be on the receiving end of your anger and hurt. Even if he was the one that caused it.

Watching you have to hold onto the wall for support, face contorted into pain every time you put weight on your bad leg, his chest got tighter and his heart ached.

The entire day continued on like that. Him trying to talk to you, but you just kept pushing him away. He knew he deserved it, but he was so ready to be done with this argument. 

It wasn't until your stubbornness caused you to slip and fall did he finally put his foot down.

You'd tried to walk to the bathroom, but had slipped on the rug. The air knocked out of you as you forced yourself to sit up. The pain in your hip intensified. You wanted to cut it off.

Forcing yourself to breath, a cry slipped through your lips and Gojo came running.

Gently lifting you up, he moved you over to the couch. His eyes worried and his brows furrowed, "Enough is enough- you can't keep trying to do this on your own. You should have told me your hip was flaring up last night instead of just storming off."

You stared at the ground, before finally speaking up, "let's break up."

"What?" Gojo laughed as if you were joking, before his face turned sour. "I'm sorry, what'd you say? I misheard you." He was hoping he heard you wrong.

"Let's break up." You repeated it, same tone and everything. "Yesterday made me realize how wrong we are for each other. How wrong we've always been."

"No- no. Baby, yesterday was all my fault- i-i had just gotten frustrated and I took it out on you, I'm so sorry. I should have never said those things," Gojo was crouched in front of you now, his eyes desperate as he tried to get you to look him in the eye. "We're perfect for each other, pretty."

"But we're not. My life as a sorcerer is over. I can hardly function. You're hardly ever home, and when you are, you're exhausted. You're not happy with me, hell I don't even think you're attracted to me anymore. When's the last time we've done anything? It's been months." You just stared at him, tears rolling down your face slowly.

Gojo's heart was breaking into a billion pieces with every word you spoke. "No, no no. I'll take time off- I'll- I'll quit! I'll do anything- just don't do this to us! I'm still attracted to you! I am! I've just been really tired!"

"No you're not. I look nothing like I used to. I can't workout anymore, I've lost muscle and now my body is all pudgy and gross- and you still look amazing. I've seen the way your eyes linger on other women, you never had wandering eyes when I was a sorcerer." Your jaw clenched and bottom lips quivering, you looked away from him. "I mean- you even called me useless, and you're right."

"No! I wasn't right! About anything! Baby please- I'm an idiot! I just said shit without thinking!" Gojo was begging at this point. His knuckles white as he held onto the couch cushion.

"We'd never be able to get married, have kids, grow old with each other or even die in battle with one another." You wiped your face, having to take stuttering breaths to keep calm, "By the time we're 40 you'd hate me. I'm literally dead weight."

Gojo's eyes began to tear up and he just shook his head over and over, "no your wrong. We would grow old together and it's ok we can't have kids! I'm ok with that- baby all I want is you."

"You haven't wanted me in a long time Gojo. Hell even the dogs that people get then regret later get more love than you've shown me in months." You lightly pushed him away, "So let's break up. You don't love me anymore- that's why you felt so ok with screaming at me not once but twice. People who love one another don't do that."

"But I do love you! I love you with all my heart! I'll quit being a sorcerer- we can move away from here, I have more than enough money for the both of us to retire to some far away island!" Gojo grabbed your hands in a tight grip, his face pathetic as he cried and begged. He loved you, he honestly did. He'd just... let himself forget what he had.

"I'll come get my stuff in a few days." You murmured before forcing yourself to stand up. You managed to grab your keys and limp your way out the door. Leaving Gojo sitting there on the floor, staring at where you once sat.

He didn't hear from you for a few days. In fact, he didn't hear from you at all. Because two days later, he got a call from the nearby emergency center.

"Hello?" Gojo's voice was rough. He'd been crying and hadn't left the house since you left. He was an absolute mess.

"Hi, is this Mr. Gojo?" A woman's voice on the other line spoke.

"Yes."

"Sir, we've called to inform you that Y/n L/n has been in accident." Her voice was dry, she'd made these calls so many times, the empathy had drained from her.

"What? Is she ok? What happened?!" Immediately he was panicking. He was standing right away and rushed to grab his keys.

"She got in a car accident near Vaughn road. She was rushed to the emergency room and is now in intensive care here at the hospital."

His breath caught in his throat, his mouth went dry and his heart felt like it stopped. "I-in-intensive care?" He murmured.

"Yes sir, they are keeping on one of the ventilators for now. You're her emergency contact."

"I'm on my way." Gojo didn't bother to wait for her answer, he didn't rush to throw on better clothes than grey sweats and a hoodie. He was running out the door.

Breaking several traffic laws, he was finally at the hospital. Rushing in, he was at the counter and demanding to see you in no time. "Where is she?!"

"Who? Did you must calm down." The receptionist stood up, trying to get him to lower his voice.

"Y/b l/n! Where is she?! How is she?!" Gojo watched with wide eyes as the woman got quiet.

Slowly, she grabbed the phone and called a doctor up to the front desk. Where he was then escorted to a private room.

"Are you Gojo Satoru? The patients boyfriend?" The doctor asked.

"Yes yes, now how is she?! I need to see her!" He demanded, slamming his fist down on the table.

The doctor sighed quietly, "Sir, I'm so sorry, we did everything we could but," the doctor took a breath before continuing, "the internal bleeding was severe. She passed during surgery."

Gojo just stared at him. His ears ringing and his heart beat so loud he could hardly hear what he was saying. His whole world was crashing down on him all at once. "She's- she's dead?"

"Yes sir, I'm so sorry for your loss. We did everything we could. I'll give you the room." The doctor glanced at Gojo before leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Gojo just fell back into a chair and held his head in hands. "This isn't real... this isn't real, this isn't FUCKING REAL." He immediately got his phone and began calling her number. Over and over and over again. Tears pouring down his face, his knees bouncing fast enough to cause the carpet to tear.

Slowly, reality began to settle in and he crumbled under its pressure. Sobbing into his hands, he wailed. Crying over and over again "my girl, not my girl" or "no no no".

It was heartbreaking to hear as people passed the room on the outside.

Even weeks after you'd been buried, he couldn't function. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. He couldn't do anything. He was utterly useless, like he'd said to you the last night he had with you.

The words he said to you haunted him. The way you were in pain on your last days because of your hip, because of him.

He didn't even get to hold you. He didn't even get to see your face. They had to have to a closed casket funeral. The wreck you'd gotten into was with a drunk driver, it was a head on collision and your body was mangled.

Everyday, he sat at your grave. Crying, talking or just staring at your headstone.

Weeks, months, and years later, Gojo had been rendered useless without you. He was miserable with having you to hold onto at night or to talk to in the mornings. He missed every single thing about you. He missed the way you'd laugh at his shitty jokes, or how you'd scold him if he got drunk or ate too many sweets. He even missed how you'd try to ignore him but cave in when he'd hug you from behind and press sweet kisses from your neck. He missed how you'd look at him with those adoring eyes.

And he regretted how your last days were spent. He regretted how he let you get a job even tho you were in no state to get one. He regretted how he spoke to you, or let you feel insecure. He regretted his wandering eyes and his wishes that you were normal. He regretted everything he never got to do with you, or how little time he had spent with you.

He loved you more than anything. And without you, he was just as useless.

𓆝𓆟𓆜𓆞𓆝𓆟𓆜𓆞𓆝𓆟𓆜𓆞𓆝

Ok guys hope you liked it. Kinda feeling like shit rn so I’m gonna get high asf ok? Ok. Love yall.

Knight of Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You, heir to the throne and fated to be married off to a royal you’ve never even met. Gojo Satoru, your personal knight and the one man that will not let this happen. He will not.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! princess! reader, knight! Gojo, childhood-friends-to-Iovers, PINING, arranged marriages, Naoya is awful, Gojo YEARNS, flower language, politics, slight víolence, slight angst, matíng presses, cervíx kíssing, creampíes, cúmplay, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, oraI (fem rec), he goes FÉRAL, cúmming in his pants, manhandIing, spítting, biiig stretches, dúmbifícation, cúmflation, p talking, p sIapping, overstím, proposals, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.7k

A/N. What happens when ya let a girl listen to Golden Brown by The StrangIers.

“You are not to speak, you are not to look.” The king intertwines his decadently ringed fingers on his lap, the royal signet glinting pointedly amongst them. “You are not to so much as breathe in the princess’s way from tomorrow onwards.”

And it’s only with his hard-earned years as your knight that Gojo stops himself from shuddering where he knelt, head bowing to hide the clench in his jaw.

Though, surely something must have flashed across his features - because the next few words have a familiar warmth that twisted Gojo’s heart much more than his royal timbre, “Satoru, my boy, you understand that this is your duty? Yes?”

“I understand.” The answer is instant, as is the raise of the other man’s brows. 

“And do you understand that this marriage is my daughter’s duty?” Your father barks out a disbelieving laugh into the barren throne room. “We wouldn’t want Prince Naoya getting the wrong idea between the princess and a- a knight.” 

The words make his eyes prick wetly, and Gojo can’t help but bend even lower as he whispers. “I…I understand, sir.”

After all, it was the second thing that Gojo Satoru had drilled into his mind from the very moment he first met you.

The first being that he’s loved you ever since. 

Which - retrospectively speaking - might’ve been an incredibly bold declaration coming from the scrawny, fidgeting six-year-old you happened to catch sneaking in and stealing lilac blooms from the royal garden all those years ago.

He remembers how you’d giggled, looking positively like a little blossom in all those gauzy layers of gown. Piping up from under the lilac tree he was latched onto, “My father says that’s not allowed.”

Gojo had fallen then - literally, startling about six feet from the branch he’d been straddling and straight into a scratchy pile of leaves with a dull thud! Back hurting, head spinning, it was a wonder that he hadn’t sprained anything, but right then and there he remembers thinking he was in heaven.

Because here was a pretty lil’ angel his age ogling down at him, speaking in a regal accent so different from his. “My father says that’s not allowed either.”

Your grin beamed down on him and warmed his skin even more scorchingly than the balmy rays of sunlight filtering in through the leaves. And for the first time ever in his life, Gojo Satoru had stuttered. 

“Yer- yer father sounds stupid.” He had spit out, chubby cheeks puffing out the more you stared at him. What? He was sure he looked ridiculous with all those stray sticks and leaves stuck in his cloudy locks, but did you really have to look at him like…that? 

“My father…” Your lips curled even further, as if you knew something he didn’t. “-the king.”

Oh.

Oh. 

And it’s only then that Gojo notices the thin, silver tiara on your head, a delicate wreath of jeweled flowers that twinkled almost as bright as your eyes. It reflected specks of light into his gaze almost mockingly.

Idiot- it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over him that chilled him to the very bone. 

Even at the tender- well, wise and sensible age of six, Gojo had heard from the adults in town all about the torture chambers and p-prisons that the royal palace was home to. 

Just why did he feel the need to escape from his mother at the market to bring her a batch of those wispy, amethyst flowers anyway? 

Sure, they were her favorite but- the royal family would have his head before even she did. And he didn’t even get to butter her up with the lilacs!

“Forgive me!” Gojo had squeaked out in a cry so shrill that you hurriedly took a step back, eyes widening once the interesting boy in front of you dropped to his hands and knees. “Ah- I mean uh- forgive me, your highness- your princessness.” Drooping into a bow so low that his soft tufts of hair brushed the warm ground. Words tumbling out a mile a minute, “It was an accident- I must’ve been um sleepwalking and I pinky-promise won’t do it again-”

“Those lilacs haven’t bloomed yet, y’know?” You’re cutting him off smoothly, and Gojo remembers feeling a pang of irritation- let him recite his apologies before you throw him in a cell, dammit! Right before flooding with confusion, eyes snapping up to meet yours hesitantly. 

Pointing at a pretty white gazebo, overlooking the lake only a few meters away, you’d shrugged your shoulders. “The garden staff puts the best ones in a bouquet over there.”

At which, he’d replied with an exceptionally eloquent, “Huh?”

“Well, what my father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

It’s only after hours upon hours of picking every lilac flower in sight and chatting about all the worldly topics a pair of six-year-olds knew that you were dragged away by one of your worried attendants. 

And he almost felt…sad about it. Weird. 

The yolky setting sun that day cast shadows for Gojo to hide himself in behind one of the gazebo pillars as he peeked at your retreating back. In-step with an older woman muttering about “losing her job oh- the king will banish her.” 

And if there was one thing that he would never forget - well, amongst everything else - it was the way his heart banged selfishly against his ribcage with a repeated turn around turn around turn around-

You did. And you’d smiled, and Gojo hasn’t been able to step away from your side since.

Well, he had to - to go home that evening and proudly proclaim to his thoroughly cross mother how he’ll become a knight, that is. 

Honestly, even the colossal lilac bouquet did little to deter her scoldings about running off. But despite how bad it was - and the fact that he was sentenced to be confined to his room for a whole month - it didn’t matter.

Gojo visited you the next day, too. 

And the day after that, and the day after that- and again and again no matter how many times you’d teased him about coming so often to see you. Because you were right there no matter what royal duties or lessons dictated, waiting in the lilac garden for him. 

Every day.

When Gojo was eighteen he’d applied for a position in the royal guard, breezing through the demonstrations of physical strength because of course, he did. He’d been training for his very day for years.

And it showed - oh, how it showed. 

It showed in the way he stood almost a head above every other man lined up there, veering numerous inches above six feet. All sculptured, Herculean muscles and arms toned from years spent climbing the palace orchards with you. The strongest. 

He considered himself exceedingly humble, too, of course. 

Humble enough to not brag outright in your face once Gojo had climbed the treacherous way into being your personal knight before the age of twenty. 

“Hah, I can tell your father- erm, his majesty all about where you sneak off to now.” Gojo snickered, flicking your forehead in a way that a princess simply shouldn’t be treated. “Perhaps I’ll bargain titles with him- tell the courts about the way you climb trees, and ride horses and-”

“Snitch”

“Harlot.”

“Knave.”

“Hobgoblin.”

“Satoru.” You’d deadpanned up at as six foot four inches of white-haired nuisance clinging onto whimpers out a dramatic ouch, that one hurt. Desperately trying to keep the smile off of your face, “You’re with me each and every single time.”

Well, was. 

It seemed like the king was to be putting a stop to that very, very soon. With your looming- he gulps to keep the leaden ball of tears away from his throat, your engagement. 

“Toru—” Your voice snaps him out of his hazy little reverie, and he finds himself straightening his back into a respectful posture outside of the throne room. Warily eyeing the way you bound up to him, “What did my father want to talk to you about so suddenly?”

“Ah…” Gojo’s throat feels hoarse. Parched. The smile plastering onto his face wobbly, “Just- just security measures for the visitor we’re going to have, your royal highness.”

Your brows quirk upwards, pretty lips falling open just enough for him to realize you were about to comment on his use of that. That title. 

“Now if you pardon this knight, ma’am-” Gojo pipes up before you can bludgeon him with questions, striding down the luxurious hallway to his newly-assigned post at the royal treasury. Far, far away from your chambers. “-I have been called by Knight Commander Yaga to my-”

“Satoru- wait.”

He should’ve known better than to have thought he could escape you - not when even his own heart didn’t want to.

Lurching up in an almost-nauseating swoop the moment your voice echoes from behind, hitting his glinting armor. “You…are you okay—? You haven’t called me any of those silly formal titles since we first met.” Words practically dripping with concern, fuck- he was sure your face was furrowing. And if it was up to him he would kiss away every tense crevice. 

But no, that was not his place. 

His place was to stand rooted to the spot, face turning only a half-degree to grace you with a soft bow. Gojo knew it wasn’t the epitome of respect, but a singular look in your face right now and he would break.

“I am in perfect condition to carry out my duties, ma’am.” He’s nodding, voice oh-so-brittle in his throat for how hardened it thundered.

“That’s not what I mean.” Stubborn.

Gojo turns back to the winding corridor in front of him, “Then if that is all, I shall be on my way. I hope you have a good day, ma’am.”

“Satoru.”

And if his cheeks were cold and encrusted with a few streaks of salty tears when he reached the treasury, Gojo was only grateful that his fellow knight Ijichi was too afraid of him to say anything.

.

.

.

Gojo Satoru was avoiding you - marching the other way if he glimpsed you, running around the palace for menial tasks, he wasn’t even your personal guard anymore, for goodness’ sake! Your best friend was ignoring you and you weren’t sure why. 

Was it because you had to skip out on your daily walks in the lilac garden to greet the visiting Zenin royals? 

No, he was always so understanding of the royal responsibilities that you couldn’t skive off. Besides, his strange attitude had sparked up even before Prince Naoya and his family arrived at your kingdom - ever since that meeting with your father.

You were dying to ask the king what exactly was talked about that day, a meeting so confidential that he didn’t even have the royal advisor transcripting it. But your father was always so busy with the older Zenin couple these days, cooped up in office rooms surrounded to the brim with official documents. 

And that left you with…him.

Naoya Zenin. A prince if there was ever any, who couldn’t talk about anything but that. 

“So…um.” Your eyes dart around the palace gardens, you always did love it here - that comforting smell of flowers wafting in clouds around you. But right now you felt anything but comforted. “How are you liking the garden, Prince Naoya?”

He shakes his brown-tipped locks, eyes narrowing. “Rather plebian for a royal palace, if I do say so myself.”

“R-right…” You’re sputtering in an unlady-like fashion, “We do have orchards too if you wanted to-”

“Of course, the gardens in my palace are much bigger-” He’s waving a gloved hand loftily, nose crinkling into a sneer at the bustling gardeners planting beautiful white blossoms everywhere. Honestly, you were informed there was a grand ball soon - but wasn’t this a bit much? “And we teach the help to stay out of sight.”

“Well, I think they’re really nice.” You’re huffing, brows marrying together. 

He scoffs, “Nice- or useful?”

“Both.”You fight the urge to just storm off then and there - it wouldn’t do good to start a war between the two most powerful kingdoms right now. 

“Ah yes yes- nice.” Naoya repeats airily, words warbling as if he was biting back a laugh. “Suppose the low-borns are tolerable if they’re nice.”

A vision of Gojo - tiny and trembling into a bow in front of you - flashed through your mind, and you find your pretty heels digging hard into the dark soil. That was it.

“Perhaps.” Your voice comes out dangerously even, dangerously. Naoya only raises his brows in faint interest, “Yet, even the least tolerable tch- ‘low-born’ would be more tolerable than a pompous, arrogant-”

“There you are, your highnesses!” 

Satoru. 

You would recognize that low, lilting baritone amongst a thousand others. And before you can turn around to face your best friend that had been missing for days, he plows on, “A little gift- from this lowborn.”

Thud!

Before you can even blink, pale hands reach out to unceremoniously dump a radiant yellow flower crown on Naoya’s blond bangs. And you swear Gojo pushed down on his head harder than necessary.

The first thing you register is the warm wall of muscles pushing up against your back, lecherously counting every ladder of washboard abs and Gojo’s plush pecs in your mind. Mindlessly, you’re leaning back even closer, savoring the way his breath hitches. Harlot. 

The second thing you’re realizing is that Naoya Zenin - for the first time in twenty-something years - had gone quiet. Very, very quiet. Suspiciously so. 

You force your words into some semblance of levelness, “Are you…are you alright, Prince Naoya?”

But Naoya didn’t speak - you didn’t know if he was even breathing. Long face growing greyer and greyer by the second, he doesn’t answer you.

No, instead he’s pointing a trembling finger behind you. “You there…you- what shrub have you placed upon my royal head?”

“Laburnum.” Comes the answer - and just as soon comes a drawling, strangled squawk.

Your first instinct is to look towards the shimmering lake not too far away from you, eyes searching for any trace of those familiar ducks- before gasping in surprise and looking back to the prince. Mouth ajar, still making those undignified noises. 

Him? 

“You- you will-” He hisses, so furious that you have to take a step back - right into Gojo’s waiting arms - to avoid his flecks of spit. “-you will pay for this.”

In only a split-second, Naoya had thrown the flower crown onto the ground and wheezed his way up the flowery pathway back to the castle. What a sight it was.

But nothing compared to the way that Gojo comes into your line of sight and preens. One hand tapping at his cheek in thought, the other held behind his back. “Whoops- I forgot that the king specifically informed me that our honored guest was allergic to laburnum flowers. Guess, low-borns aren’t of good memory. Right, my princess?”

“Satoru- you- you ass.” You’re yelping through fits of laughter, not caring for the way the rest of the gardening staff smiles knowingly. “What if that bastard gets deathly sick? The blame would be on you.”

He rolls his summer blue eyes, “Proudly.”

“I should send you to the gallows for this.”

Gasping in faux shock, “Most salacious indeed!”

And for the first time in so long, it feels normal. 

The breezing heat of Gojo’s body against yours feels normal, and you couldn’t bring yourself to think too deeply about it. Too enchanted by the sheer lack of armor - all billowy white poet shirt and flattering cotton pants. 

“Y-yeah well-” Shit- why was your skin burning this way? The sun wasn’t even at peak temperature for today. Absentmindedly, you’re playing with one of his silk lapels, “Thank goodness we’re losing him in a few days, I asked mother and she said the Zenin’s are only visiting until the fast-approaching ball.” 

“Princess-” It all comes out in a rush, “-that ball. The reason for it is actually-”

“Your highness! The queen is asking for a conference with you!” The curious voices of your maidservants drag you away from Gojo’s arms, into a much less scandalous position.

And yet, with only a nod behind - you still stay standing in front of him. You stay.

“Right…” Gojo’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs as he takes a deep gulp. Shadowy gaze darting away, “I should get back to my duties, ma’am. Suguru has been abusing his position as head gardener to work me like a mule.”

The way your face crumples with disappointment makes Gojo’s heart feel sliced open. And raw. “Of course. I’ll see you around, Gojo.”

Gojo. Gojo. 

And of course he couldn’t let you walk away - of course he couldn’t let you leave his life just yet. 

So without thinking, without even realizing, he’s clasping a slender hand around your wrist to pull you back. To reel you in. To him. 

Velvety strands of snow-white curtain Gojo’s eyes, and the doughy fingerpads on your skin shiver. Mumbling, “Before- Before you go, my prin- ma’am. I just wanted to give you-” And you don’t know what makes your heart race more - the cherry-red blush painting all over Gojo’s cheeks and up to the very tips of his ears, or the sunny flower crown clasped in a hand pulled from behind his back. “-this.”

Your mouth drops into an awe-struck oh! It was beautiful - trickling blossoms of every shade of yellow entwined gently together. Embedded with celestially dainty buds of an amber so pale it looked almost white, diamonds on a tiara fit for a princess. 

You had a feeling it would be your favorite one.  

All you could think of was Gojo with his staggering hands, and his battle-worn fingers, making something so delicate for you. 

“Is…is this one just as allergy-inducing as the other, Satoru?” You’re breathing, rustled by a breeze so gentle that it almost hurts.  

“No.” Gojo whispers, just as quiet. As if the slightest sign of a raised voice would break whatever saccharinely thick moment this was, “Yellow acacia and yellow carnation. For you, my princess.”

For the way he’d be losing you just as soon as he loses that asshat. 

And even once you’d adorned his crown and been hurried off by a few palace staff, Gojo stared. Even once you were nothing but a speck of royal satin and yellow crowns, he stared. Even once you were gone, and he was left so very alone, he stared. 

Only thanking the heavens above that you always slept through your flower language lessons. 

.

.

.

Over the next few days; wherever you were, Naoya Zenin was to follow. 

And Gojo was sure that it was pushing the young royal closer and closer to a spectacular aneurysm any time that you called specifically for him to accompany you. Blatantly refusing any other knight that came your way.

The pointed third during “romantic” boat rides on the lake, always the guard overseeing dinners, the one to step in with a blunder if your future fiancé got too…opinionated. Gojo was always there. 

It was more like you spent your time trying to make his dutiful façade crack than supposedly entertaining your guest.

Sneaky princess. 

After all - Gojo found himself pacing and arguing out loud with himself any time you did - he was simply doing his job, right? Even if the aforementioned job went against just a few direct orders from the king himself. 

But these were a direct order from the princess. His princess. And Gojo had stopped his procedural traversing and ranting since realizing this. 

Although- the head chef, Nanami’s, veiled threat about turning him into pig feed the next time he heard stomping may have played a slight part in this, as well. 

And it was on such a day that Gojo found himself stationed to guard the inside of the royal drawing room. Spine ramrod straight, eyes flooded with steel while he took in the sight of you and that bastard- Naoya sketching the other in silence. 

It was a dainty, sunlit room, and the hours might have almost been peaceful - if it wasn’t for the split-haired bastard, that is. 

After that flower fiasco and a thorough telling off for misremembering the prince’s allergies, this was meant to make up for a “bonding activity” according to the king; which to him read more like a desperate attempt to push the two of you together before the grand ball tomorrow night. 

Gojo’s chest caves in with a sudden spike of pain, tomorrow night. Your engagement ball, where you will surely be handed off to a man who wouldn’t be worthy of you in a thousand different lives. 

Fuck, had it really been days since already?

It hurt too much, and so he looks towards the prince’s parchment- how insulting. Hundreds of royal art lessons, yet Naoya still couldn’t capture the exact curve of your smile. And those pretty crinkles by your eyes- they were entirely the wrong number! And Gojo’s sure that any fool could see the way your lips-

He was getting ahead of himself. And reminded embarrassingly of the hundreds of sketches of you over the years stowed away underneath his bed alongside a stubby piece of charcoal. 

And he was leaning over the prince in a way that he was sure would get him strung and quartered in the Zenin palace. Or, at least, that’s what Naoya’s daggered glare was telling him. 

With a sheepish smirk, Gojo snatches a glimpse at your artwork. Stifling a laugh at the way you’ve given up on drawing the other man and started engaging in idle scribblings of weasels and hollies. 

“That one looks like him, don’t you think?” He can’t help but whisper from the corner of his mouth, stomach swooping in delight as soon as your eyes light up. 

Tacking on a familiar hairstyle and sneer onto a particularly shoddy caricature of one of the weasels, giggling. “He does.”

Gojo points at another drawing - this time of a bullfrog- honestly, what interests for a princess. “And that’s-”

“That Jinichi.” You’re finishing off for him, carelessly drawing away a few more - quite frankly, Gojo finds everything you do beautiful, but these were appallingly ugly - scribbles of foxes and goats. “That one’s Oji Zenin, and that’s Gakuganji and that’s-”

“Ahem.”

There was only one person who could make the clearing of a throat sound so snobbish. And that was Naoya Zenin. 

Brows raised, feet tapping impatiently on polished marble as he snatches the parchment from your grip. 

Schwing–!

“Toru- no.” 

Gojo doesn’t even realize he’s pulling out his famed, silver sword until you’re stopping him with a hand to his tense bicep. Shit.

Growling through clenched teeth once more at Naoya while he nestles it back into its scabbard with unsteady fingers - only because you asked. 

But the other man doesn’t even flinch - wearing that perfect mask of regal stoicity, though Gojo manages to catch the way his eyes flicker nervously down at the hilt of his sword. Doesn’t show anything other than the tightening of his thin lips as he gazes upon your humorous drawings. 

The impatient tap! tap! tap! of his feet slowing down, stopping - before Naoya throws your paper down onto the floor and stomps. Gojo would’ve almost found it comedic if it hadn’t been for your startled demeanour.

“Excuse me-” He’s hissing, angling his broad body between you and this unseemly sight. Gojo looks dead-on into Naoya’s spit-fire red face, “-but I would have to hope not to remind a young prince of royal etiquette.”

“Excuse me, sir.”

“No need to call me ‘sir’, your highness.”

Naoya looks up, death in his eyes.

Gojo thought this might be the end. The missed trip to the dungeons all those years ago was finally catching up to him, and he would be thrown in today for drawing his weapon on a royal but goddammit- if he wasn’t going to keep you safe from his ire for as long as he breathes and then some.

But - to both you and Gojo’s surprise, and perhaps even Naoya himself - he simply turns swiftly on his heels and walks out of the room. Letting the heavy double-doors SLAM! deafeningly behind him. 

It takes a beat. One. Two. 

He counts every raging ba-dump–! of his heart against this ribcage- before the terse silence shatters with laughter. 

“Toru- To- Satoru—!” You’re wiping away genuine tears, “‘No need to call me sir-’ where did you even come up with that-”

“Fuck! You can laugh but I thought I was headed to the gallows.” He’s exclaiming, and it was quite difficult to act as if your laugh wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d heard in his entire life. “Although- it would have been a killer last line. Wouldn’t it, my princess?”

The two of you stare at each other for one singular ba-dump–! Before bursting into peels of undignified cackles that could make an entire court shiver in scandal. 

“Killer- killer alright-” You’re rolling your watery eyes, “This is just as bad as the time you caught Yaga in his interpretive rain dance routine- I thought you were surely dead then.”

Please, Gojo’s stomach and his heart were hurting - though, for very different reasons. “Not as bad as when you wanted to play dress-up with the sacred royal crown and lost it.”

“Don’t remind me, my father was-” That’s when your tear-lathered lashes flutter, a hand coming up to swat softly against your cheek as if to jolt back your senses. You’re groaning over Gojo’s whine, “-my father. Oh no! What will he say about this?” You almost knock your cushy stool over with how fast you’re teetering into a stand, “I must go apologize to weasel- Naoya right away lest relations with the Zenins-”

“Let me.”

Your brows raise, “What?”

“Let me.” Gojo’s repeating, more firmly this time. Thumb grazing briefly down your knuckles as he pulls you back into your seat. 

Just for a split-second - like he couldn’t even think of letting himself touch such a precious treasure. 

He knows you will argue this, he knows your stupidly selfless self will fight to apologize; which is why before you can say a word, he’s marching hastily out of those same doors and towards the luxurious guest chambers. 

Truthfully, Gojo Satoru didn’t give a fuck about Naoya Zenin - but he’ll be damned if you, his beloved, was cast in a hameful light because of his childish actions. 

He has to do something for you, while he still can. While he still has you. While he can still love you.

The corridors are winding, decadent. He takes a deep breath when nearing the slightly-open gilded door of the Zenin suite, that distinctly nasally tone of Naoya drifting in conversation from within. Shuddering in a deep breath, “Pardon m-”

“-drew me as a weasel!” The prince bursts, fury seeping into every hard syllable of his. Gojo stills where he stands outside, hand on the cool metallic doorknob. “I have never met such a vulgar, unrefined-”

“Oh, do bear it until the engagement Naoya.” The gruff voice of a man responds - and he recognizes it from all the recent chiding at palace staff to be the prince’s cousin, Jinichi Zenin. “After that ya can take your time breaking ‘er in.”

What? 

“A boor telling me to break in a wench.” The younger man scoffs, though he sounds much calmer than just moments before. 

Gojo thinks he could throw up all over the gleaming floors, he thinks he wants to keel over and beg at the king’s feet to keep this from happening to you. He thinks he just might. 

But right now, he can’t bring his feet to move a single inch. Pressing himself up closer against the adjacent patterned wall, sharp ear yearning for more shards of the conversation. 

“They’re all the same anyways.” Says Jinichi, “Just give ‘er something sparkly or flowery and keep her sated. Don’t want another one running off before you can dig your claws into the crown, now, do we?”

And perhaps he’s a hopeless fool for praying that Naoya might say something - anything - else. Wishing for the non-existent good in your soon-to-be fiancé, who only grits out a displeased, “Fine. Only because I want to see her pretty lil’ face when I break her to my will.” There’s the sound of urgent footsteps, “But if father doesn’t give me the throne for my efforts then I’m killing her and you, you brute.”

Stood stock still.

Gojo doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to - and right now, ice-cold spikes of anger were the only thing latching him rooted to the spot, not even flinching once Naoya closes the door behind him and walks- seeing him. 

His jaw clenches, eyes harrowing. “You.” 

And Naoya had very clearly taken the opportunity to arm himself in his family chamber, because his spindly fingers itch towards the hilt of his dangerously glinting sword. Just seconds away from-

“Please.” 

Gojo drops onto one knee, the tendons of his neck aching with how far downwards he had it bent into a pitiful bow. “I ask his highness to please let the princess go- to call off this impending engagement. I- I will bear the brunt of committing an offense, and will gladly take any punishment that is bestowed upon me. I just please beg of you to-”

“The same hand.”

“What?” Gojo forces himself to look up with tear-filled eyes, to face the prince squarely in his chestnut gaze. His delighted chestnut gaze. 

Pointing towards his right hand, “The same hand you were to raise your sword at me, the same hand you used to put that wretched toxic flower crown on me-” And then his blade, “-I order you to repent.”

The other man breathes, “Repent…”

“Repent.” Naoya stands up taller, perhaps the most self-confident that Gojo has ever seen him. A barbarous curl of his lips starting to form, “Repent, and I shall consider ending my engagement with the princ-”

CRUNCH!

Pain. Blinding pain was all that Gojo could feel, and…relief. 

He couldn’t even register the steady trickle of warm crimson on his skin and onto the floor in rose-like splotches - even though he could see it through bleary eyes. Head still spinning to catch up with the nanosecond events of drawing his sword and slicing a wide gash down his forearm. 

Through half-lidded eyes, he puts back his bloodied blade into the scabbard and looks up at the stricken prince. 

Repentance. 

“So you love her.” Is all that Naoya hisses. And Gojo can’t lie, nor can he muddy your name. 

So he simply waits quietly, silence speaking enough for eons. Waiting for you to be set free. And if he tried, he could even manage a smile-

Sniffing insolently - though, it sounded more like a snicker. “How valiant, for a low-born.” All that is said before he spits furiously at Gojo’s feet and breezes past in a swish of capes - as if nothing ever happened. “I might even invite you to the princess and I’s wedding ceremony.”

.

.

.

In a palace of thousands, it was only Gojo Satoru that could manage to stand out. 

None of the royal jesters could make the court laugh quite as loud. None of the other knights - no matter how muscled, or chivalrous - could make the ladies-in-waiting swoon just as much. And none of the other reputable men could make you seek him out in every chamber, state room, or training ground just like this.  

It was strange not to see even the barest glimpse of Gojo for an entire day, and the palace didn’t quite feel like a home without him.

“I’m telling you, Nobara–” You’re wheezing out in condensed puffs as your eager right-hand attendant continues mercilessly tightening away the undergarments of your ballgown. “Something’s probably happened to him or-”

“-or he’s being locked up for offending some uppity duke.” She’s rolling her honeypool eyes, one of the few who wasn’t afraid to express themselves this way in front of you. Flitting about the opulent dressing room you rarely liked to use, “You know how that eugh- Gojo is.”

“Which is precisely why I’m worried.”

Honestly, you didn’t even care for a grand ball when you didn’t know where your best friend was. Whether he was in the dungeons or…worse. 

But Nobara wasn’t here to hear you ramble about Gojo Satoru - you oftentimes got the impression that he irritated her too much for her own liking - she was here to doll you up in costly pale blue silks and muslins that draped off of you prettier than a painting. 

And you felt dizzy by the time she let you be escorted off towards the emanating music of the ballroom - with an excited goodbye and a reluctant promise to keep an eye out for Gojo. 

Hair done more intricately than you could’ve even imagined, your jewelry caught every light in the room, a bejeweled flower tiara weighing heavily on your head. Adorning your face in a crown that reminded you of the one Gojo had made you only a few days ago. 

It was almost a struggle to keep your face held high as you took the first few steps down the winding imperial staircase. To the ball. 

You have to stop yourself from tilting your head down at the thrumming masses of decadently dressed-up nobles and clinking champagne to check whether Gojo was hidden away somewhere down there. 

Manners. Posture. Eye contact. 

It was all painfully practised, and so was the tightening of your features as your own father started reading off your introduction. He never took on this task - what was happening?

“And now, for the most important guest of all-” Booming voice thundering in your ears almost as loud as your heartbeat was. The king addresses the congregation in the middle of the dancefloor, more ruler than father at this point. “-my daughter, princess of our beloved kingdom. And the queen of the next!”

Your hand stills where it had been helping you balance in your heels down the stairway- what?

Thankfully, your father carries on - or rather, not thankfully, considering what his next words are. 

“Yes, my people, this may come as a surprise to you all.” He chuckles above the deafening murmurs, and you slowly find yourself scurrying onto the raised platform your father’s throne was seated on. “But tonight is not only a simple celebration of our nation, it’s a celebration of love. Of two nations.”

There’s a beat of silence as he reaches out a withered hand to you, and you find yourself wordlessly taking it. 

“F-father, what-” you whisper, but there’s no response. Your skin bristles with goosebumps, and you’re not sure whether it’s from the summer breeze wafting from the gardens, or from the speech’s implications.

Letting yourself be pulled right into the middle of the stage,right into the spotlight - where Naoya Zenin was waiting for you. Dressed in his finest suit of white silk, adorned with layers upon layers of military accolades and velvety medals. 

The bright, blazing light of the chandelier was scorching, and your hands clench in unease. What was happening?

“That is right, my people.” The king drags your hand up to mesh in an entwinement with Naoya’s clammy ones, holding it up for the eager public to see. “After much consideration and forethought, our royal families have decided that today my daughter is the beloved princess of our nation. But tomorrow, she will be the future queen of the Zenin kingdom.”

There’s cheering - but you can’t hear any of it. In fact, the entire world could be falling upon you and you don’t think you would have noticed. 

All you can feel is the queasy churning of your stomach, and the stern whisper of Naoya’s voice against your ear. Fingers tightening around your own, bruisingly. “Dance with me before I break this pretty hand, princess.”

You’re like a ragdoll, being puppeteered in a rigid beeline onto the dance floor. 

If it wasn’t for one of Naoya’s hands bracing onto your waist, you wouldn’t even have realized that the royal orchestra had started up a gorgeous waltz. A slow, romantic melody that you might’ve otherwise loved if you weren’t trapped in the arms of a fiancé you never asked for. 

“Looking pretty out of it there, princess.” The prince sneers after a few practised motions of your dance, making your dazed eyes stray from the swooning crowd and onto his pointed features. 

And despite it all, you can’t help but feel betrayed. You thought that the two of you might have rapport at your obligation, if nothing else. “You- you didn’t even tell me. An entire engagement and you didn’t even bother to-”

“As a husband, I don’t owe my tch- wife anything.” His nose crinkles at your wandering eyes, the way your feet itched ever-closer to the surrounding people rather than the dancefloor. “Wishing it was someone else dancing with you?”

“Yes.” You’re spitting out before you can stop, trying oh-so-hard not to let your face twist into even a semblance of the fury steeped inside of you. “Anyone but a husband that I never wanted and never will want.”

“As if you deserve any bett-”

Your nails dig into one set of his fingers enough to engrave deep craters, almost enough to make him bleed. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on Earth.” 

Naoya seems stunned for a few seconds - but, alas, just when you’re hoping that you’ve shut him up for good, you’re faced with the fact that the universe isn’t that kind to you.

“You mean you would marry the tch- low-born.” He pulls you into an incredibly rough twirl when the music crescendos, pulling you even closer. It’s all you can do to not fight his grip- “I’m not below finishing off his other hand if that’s what it takes to break you.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Each word jagged. “The knight. You love him, don’t act stupid.” 

Raising your chin in defiance, “So what?” And just as much as confusion filled you, as did panic. Because Naoya’s grip was only getting firmer, his moves much harsher. Opening his mouth to spit out- 

“Pardon me, your highnesses.” A deep bass cuts in, startled- you almost give yourself whiplash peering up into those fathomless mahogany eyes. Yaga’s thin brows furrowing into something heavily-set, “May I cut in for a dance with the princess?”

You don’t wait for an answer from Naoya - and neither does Commander Yaga. Swiftly sweeping you into his engulfing embrace as the orchestra changes into something slightly more upbeat. 

Dressed in a thick suit adorned with even more medals than Naoya - ones you knew for sure were real, unlike his. And you couldn’t help but wonder just how good Gojo would look with his own.

“So…” Yaga starts, once more couples join the floor and his words can’t be heard over the shuffling of feet by anyone other than you. His calloused hands let you lead him through a waltz much more mellow than what Naoya had with you. You always did think that the leader of your knights was a gentle giant. “Begging you to forgive my indiscretion, ma’am but ah- trouble in paradise?”

“Trouble in hell, as expected.” You’re shuddering, gaze bouncing off of any flash of sapphire blue around the room. 

The man in front of you nods gravely, “Right right. I might not be a married man, but even I know that times like these often call for a walk in the lilac garden. You know, to- ah, clear your head.”

Quirking a brow, you stare at him. “What?”

And oh, Yaga simply looked like all the gold in the world couldn’t pay him enough for this. 

“Times like these-” He’s emphasizing, boring deeply into your eyes as if to mean every syllable to strike your very core. And it does. You don’t know why, but it does. “-call for a walk in the lilac garden.”

Oh.

“Oh.” 

Yaga’s lips twitch upwards into an almost-smile, and his rumbling voice is soft for the next few words. “Go, your highness.”

So you do.

You’re realizing, with an ache of such gentle appreciation, that the commander had danced you two until you were practically teetering on the massive veranda. Open to the garden; where every prim hedge, bush, and tree was gorgeously decorated until your eyes sparkled. 

Your breath bates…a choice. Head turning back to the luxuries of a royal ball that was none-the-wiser. 

Then, with a brief hug you bully Yaga into, you run - as much as the delicate heels digging into your feet would allow. Faster. 

If this was any other time, you might’ve felt disappointed at how you weren’t even stopping to admire the beauty of the moonlight-bathed garden. But right now, your heart was only pounding to go faster and faster. 

Nothing else mattered. 

Gojo was leaning on one pillar of the same white gazebo - and he was beautiful. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he was a faerie of the night. 

Just a lone, tall silhouette that you could recognize so well; azure eyes twinkling, ivory strands of his hair shimmering with the silvery blue of the moon swimming amongst a dark sky. One he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of until he jolts his head towards the sharp snap! of a twig underneath your rapid feet.

“My…my princess.” He falls onto one knee. 

It all comes out in a whisper - as if Gojo had dreamed of this moment so many repeated times before and wasn’t sure if this was a dream, too.

“Satoru-!”

It wasn’t.

Gojo stands up to embrace you like it’d be the last time he ever would, like you were the one thing connecting him to this life and he was a dying man desperate to breathe. 

Strong arms winding around your waist, you’re pushed against one of the closed-off walls of the gazebo before you can even realize it. Arching off of the cool wooden surface and into his blistering heat. Into every ravenous, panted-out cloud of breath against your ear, “You came.”

He sounded pained. And you were sure you did just as much when you’re whimpering, “You disappeared.”

Gojo lets off a choked-up noise that could’ve been anything from affirmation to blatant shock. Half-lidded eyes boring deeply into yours, he shrugs off the jacket on his non-dominant arm to you with a low bow. 

“May I have this dance, my princess?”

You’re gasping at the sight of starchy white bandages around his other hand, fingers hesitantly falling into Gojo’s heated flesh. “S-Satoru, what happened ah-”

But he drifts you gently into a soundless dance, the distant crickets and swish! of lilac branches your only tune. 

And you never even understood just how much Gojo was a part of your life until he was moving through the exact same steps of waltzing that you’d learned growing up. The exact same once that you used to force him to sit through.

“I thought you were here because you read my letter.” Gojo mutters, lips so close now that they grazed the sensitive shell of your ear. 

You’re having trouble finding your voice, “What letter?” 

“The- the one that I left-” Just for you. His long lashes flutter open in shock, features contorted into something almost devastated. You wonder what made him feel this way. “-the one that I left in your chambers- about the- the prince, and the engagement and-”

“I got prepared for the ball in the dressing room today, I didn’t go to my room.” You’re continuing, voice small. Scared. “Satoru…you knew about the engagement?”

And Gojo’s voice told you everything you needed to know.

You feel your angry flare up hot and red, fists curling into Gojo’s delicate lapels. But that only proves to inch him even closer and make you sound much more breathless than you intended, “You knew about it and- and you didn’t even think to give me a hint that I was being carted off like a prize for some pompous asshat?”

He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, lips still so pink in the night, wobbling. “I…I couldn’t let you be married, I just couldn’t. I would give my life if it meant you get the freedom to choose who you wanted.” Your dance had stalled, and you almost feel disappointed. “But I’m a coward, and this-” Gojo throws his hands across, voice hitching, “-sneaking around, hiding, running away is the only way I could ever-”

“You should have told me. Not just in the letter.” You’re insisting, running your hands through your hair. Suddenly, something strikes you, “That arm- it’s because of Naoya, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t even have the energy to protest, and that only spurs you on even more. “I-I could have talked to my father- maybe the council and we could have made it so that…”

“So that what?” Gojo’s voice hardens as much as it could with you, which wasn’t very much at all. His fists clench and unclench at his sides like it was taking everything in him to not just…“So that you can be the laughingstock of the kingdom when you marry a low-born knight?”

He was right. They would never accept him, no matter how much you did.

You’re rendered speechless, shivering at the way he rubs his wet eyes with the back of his hand. “Oh, I don’t want you- I need you.” And he was so beautiful like this, just centimeters away from you in the escape of the night. “I need you. I need you, I need you- I need you more than the sun above my head, and the air that I breathe, my princess. You have bewitched me, and I am yours. But you cannot be mine-”

You breathe out, “Satoru…”

“-and maybe in another life-”

“Maybe in this one.”

Soft hands rover their way onto the sides of your arms, and Gojo shakes you feebly as if to snap you out of this hypnosis and urge you to run. Eyes wide, yearning. “I have always been yours, body and soul.”

You always have wondered whether there was a method to shut Gojo Satoru up. And, right now, you think you may have found the perfect answer. 

Because his entire towering figure just melts into your touch the very second you press your lips onto Gojo’s plump ones. Soft. Velvety. 

His nostrils flare through a breathy sigh when you tilt your head mere sultry degrees to deepen the kiss. You were addicted to the honey-coated taste of him, the flat drag of his scratchy tastebuds rolling over your loosening maw. 

“Ngh- my princess…” He’s puncturing your kisses with kiss after sloppy kiss, heavy hands wrapping around your body to wrangle you flush against his hardened ones. And you could count every glissade of his washboard abs through that thin poet’s blouse, “I love you.”

You’re not sure if it’s a fragment of your imagination, or- it’s not. 

Gojo manhandles you - and himself - to sit on the opulent gazebo bench with you plopped into his manspread lap, without breaking the kiss for a split-second. Because it hurt to part from your pretty, candied lips, to let those slippery strings of saliva break in the clouded air between you two.

Even if it was to purr out—

“I love you I love you I love you-” The straight edges of his pearly white teeth sinking into your lower lip, groaning from the back of his throat. And your jittery legs shift needily on his warm, meaty thighs, “-I love you.”

“Satoru—” Just about the only thing that you can say right about now, your tone resounds in Gojo’s ears and makes him grunt. Your fingers tangle into his cushy locks, “T-touch me.”

He snickers, one hand clawing onto the crown of your sweat-dampened scalp and wrenching your face away until you’re huffing and puffing cutely for more. “Mmm, how about we use those princess-y manners of yours, hm?”

“Please-”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

“Harlot.” Gojo slides in a looong few digits past those impossibly endless skirts of yours, making your thighs dampen with treacly webs of needy slick. Letting those doughy fingerpads fringe over the covered mound of your pussy, just the very edges. “That was my f-first kiss, y’know?”

He had been hopelessly saving it for you, after all. 

Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your weighted lids as soon as he teases you, mewling. “Was mine too, so we’re even-” Your hips shift in a lazy back n’ forth on top of his heated core, “-just- just want you to touch me.”

“I dunno…” Gojo drawls - drunken. And you feel the edges of his kiss-bitten lips warp around the very tip of your plummy tongue to suck on like his favorite gummy candy, “Wanna kiss my princess just a lil’ bit more.”

Panting, “K-kiss?”

“Mhm.” 

Your eyes shutter in a heady blink, oh-so-cutely ready to crash back into a filthy, filthy French kiss once more, Gojo pulls away-

A noise of disappointment fresh on your lips and just about to spill out, before he lifts you up easily with only a single beefy hand underneath your body. Splaying you out on the sprawling wooden table right beside you, your back hits the ice-cold surface and makes you gasp into the crisp night air.

The lecherous sound of it almost as loud as the sudden clack! of Gojo’s knees collapsing down onto the floor. Your face contorts into a wince because surely it sent a stinging pain up his legs?

“M’quite used to being on my knees for you, my princess.”

But he didn’t seem to care - didn’t even seem to notice when he was much more enamored with the heavenly sight down there.

“These lips-” He smears away your lacy layers upon layers, budging up to nuzzle the soft skin of your inner thighs. And shit- the filmy glaze over his eyes told you that Gojo doesn’t even realize the way his bubblegum pink tongue lolls out over the splotchy spatters of your juices. “-were tellin’ me they feel a little…left out.”

Your mouth waters with a syrupy lamination of saliva as soon as his murked breath strikes your cunt. And the drag of his rumbling bass is so delicious – you couldn’t help but imagine just how it would feel on you.

“Just- just get it on with it-” you’re hissing, fingers latching onto a few thick locks of ivory to drudge him ever-closer. 

“Impatient.”

As if Gojo himself wasn’t impatient. 

As if he wasn’t just leaking out thick wads of drool from the parted sides of his twisted grin at just the thought of tasting you. Sliding the pointed tip of his button nose languidly up the crevice of your puffed-up slit, he breathes you in and feels his cock twitch-

“Oh, princess.” Gojo can’t move, he can’t breathe if it wasn’t around your needy cunt right now. He’s ignoring those shooting bites of pain up the sides of his arm to tug on your useless garments.

Pulling- shit, he always did fucking hate how many layers you royalty had to wear. 

Pulling and pulling until the slow trawl of your undergarments by his nimble fingers wasn’t enough, and he just had to lunge his cottony head over to plummet his pearly whites into your panties and rip—!

A proper, gaping hole where your teary pussy was- and you looked even more gorgeous down there than he could’ve imagined.

Gojo’s face was blank, eyes wide and locked right at your geysering orifice like a man starved. For eons it felt like, until you were bucking up with pure need.

You’re humming in concern, struggling up onto your elbows to stare down at him. “Sa…Toru?”

And at your pretty voice, Gojo twitches. He gasps - full-bodied, like you’d just sent a zillion volts of shock down his sloped spine just by speaking to him. And he was well and fully intent on acting on it-

“Princess…princess princess princess—” Leaking from between his lips like he couldn’t stop, he hits the cute target of your cunt instantaneously with a fat thud of spittle, one. Two. Three, until your entrance was overflooding. He’s drawling the plummy end of his spit-glossed maw across your folds, “Oh, my princess. Just look at you.”

You feel his mess drool off the side of your plumpened pussylips and smear all across your peaked clit with only a simple touch of Gojo’s round-ended thumb. 

Just down-right filthy when he crashes forward to slot the curvaceous nub of his sweltering hot tongue over the brim of your hole. Drawing all over that snug orifice with slow patterns round n’ round-

“Toru–!” It’s the only thing you know at this point. “Toru.”

“Whaaat? Jealous, my princess?” The words clang in your head- and the realization hits you at the same moment Gojo’s thickly viscous swab of spit does on your own tongue. A soft nudge at your slackened chin urging you to swallow-

And he can’t waste a second, can’t spend even a mere moment away from his favorite spot between your legs. Because now that Gojo got a taste, he wants alllll of it.

Stumbling back down in haste to plant so many uncountable smooches on your bawling pussy folds. Skimming his tastebuds just along your quivering hole.

“Shit- shiiiit–” When you’d heard court ladies giggling about this, you didn’t think it would feel this good. Or maybe that’s just because it was Gojo stuffing himself impossibly deeper between your legs. “M-more, Toru–”

Your voice was cracking just as much as his fucking sanity was. 

Trilling out into frenzied shrills when Gojo swerves his eager thumb to pry open your gluey folds even further and give your fattened clit a flick!

You swear you feel Gojo depart his jaw with a giggle when your hips are bucking up pliably off the splintered table and into the bustling hot cavern of his mouth. More. “Easy there, your royal highness-”

“D-don’t call me that–” You’re whimpering, fingers tugging on Gojo’s bangs in some form of retaliation. But, of course it backfires on you just as soon as the force makes your knight moan.

“Wasn’t calling you that.” Gojo rolls his eyes, and your heart races in anticipation when the pointed edge of his chin strikes the drowned ends of your cunt. Lathering his pretty features in all the collective beads of slick raining fountaining out of you. His summer blue eyes flick downwards - and you can’t help but follow. “Was talking to her. Isn’t that right?”

Fuck.

You were fucked. 

And you were losing your mind when Gojo drags you roughly towards the edge of the table with only an ounce of his strength. Mouth making out greedily, heels digging into the fleshy mounds of his back, you can only sob and beg for more more more-

“S’fuckin’ chattier than my girl.” He’s nodding along with every saturated squelch after squelch! resonating in his eardrums - as if it was a full-on conversation with your noisy pussy. “Let’s hope that fiancé of yours doesn’t hah- f-fucking hear.”

But Gojo was acting like he wanted him to.

“Hope the- the king doesn’t find his princess bein’ eaten out by- ngh- a knight.” Barrelling long, slender inches of his index and pointer past your tight ring of mushy muscle. 

Your head throws back when he digs into the velvety depths of your pussy with just a single quirk-

“O-oh my god, Satoru–” You’re gasping in the flowery night air, tummy aching with every pump deeper because he was just so close to where you wanted him. “More- j-just a bit more.”

And yet, he acts like he doesn’t even hear you right now. 

Cupping over one massive palm over his ear and drifting ever-closer, “Wha’s that? C-can’t hear ya, girl- ngh ya gotta be- louder.”

Louder and louder he was getting with the vulgarly fast thrust graced upon your gummy walls. The sound only makes him giggle all drunk on you, “What’s that? Here? That turn you on? Hmmm…”

And just when you’re letting your vision blur with stars- just when you think it couldn’t get any better-

“Mmmm– wan’ another taste-” 

It’s the last thing your ringing ears hear before Gojo’s lurching forwards and burying his nose into your sensitive clit to give your overstuffed entrance a leeengthy lick. Right at the very split-second the globular edges of his digits scratch at that magical spot. 

“W-woah.” Your head snaps up blearily to steal a glimpse at what had Gojo Satoru’s voice so airy n’ cracking in awe. 

Only to see him fluttering his lathered lashes, the slick-gleaming apples of his cheeks blushing. Like some maiden in love. “Got even wetter f’me, your highness.” He’s breathing out, spitting out another voluminous cobweb of drivel and watching the way it sliiides across with the ribbons of slick pouring out of you. “Ohhhh, even b-better than any candy- better than a-any dessert.”  

You yelp when one rugged and grabs a rough handful of your ass and latches his lips even sloppier against your hole. “T-Toru your arm!”

“Oh? This?” He’s glancing down at the bandages as if he’d forgotten they were ever there. “S’nothing for your- hah- personal knight. Doesn’t even hurt, I’d- I’d rather die than let a stupid injury get in the way of what I’ve been dreaming of for aaaages.”

The dual points of pleasure make your toes curl, every part of your body shaking-

Gojo was out of control now. Crazed.

High-pitched bouts of giggles escaping him, muffling around where his candy-glazed cerise lips were latched around your clit and sucking. He makes sure to hold fatal eye contact while he hollows out his scorching cheeks and drags the fleshy nub. 

 “M-making out with your pussy- your pretty, pretty pussy, my princess.” Your heartbeat echoes in rapid staccato with the vicious thud! thud! thud! of his neatly crowned fingertips pecking your g-spot. Each of his puffed-out gruffs making your tongue loosen in a please, “Making you s-so loud, making you feel so good.”

And without even realizing it, he’s rovering the papping brims of his fingers to give your clit a spank. Letting the syrupy beads slide allll the way down his tongue - letting you watch. 

“S’all me.” Gojo slurs out. “Me- me me me me–” Steady rivulets of slick bubbling from the edges of his tongue when his sinful motions get faster. Harder. “Gonna ask who m-made you feel this way n’ it’s me. Your Satoru.”

More ravenous. 

Swirling around slow probes of his sensory tips, it glazes his skin all the way down to his knobbly wrist in a thick coat of sap. Memorizing every gooey ridge and crevice inside your tight channel - shit, Gojo feels his ruddied tip spurt out a jetstream of buttery pre in his pants. 

He thinks he might just burst in his pants if you don’t finish right this second. 

But luckily - or unluckily - for him, you do. Right this very second, after being wrung dry underneath only a few more lapping slashes of his ferocious tongue, tweaking your buttony clit until you cum.

And oh, you’re so pretty when you do.

Your head throwing back with a broken moan of Toru–! It takes every ounce of trained will in his drunken body to not break off from your gooey pussy and watch the way your beautiful face twists. 

Fucked out.

“O-oh, shit–” You’re practically sobbing at this point, wrist aching with just how hard you were pushing Gojo’s readily used face into your fluttering core. Your vision blurs with sparks n’ stars, “-H-how are you so good. Unfair, unfair—”

Babbling away such nonsense with that smart mouth of yours, Gojo thinks he sees utter heaven when your hot juices flood inside his mouth in generous heaps.

Lugging down an open palm underneath his chin to greedily collect the leaking beads that sprinkly in a shiny sheen off of his chin, he finds himself moaning. “Shhh, your knight’s here. Give it t’me– use me, my princess.”

And use him you were. 

Riding out each white-hot peak of your high with slobbering grinds all across Gojo’s beautiful features. Your clit catches on the poking ridges of his mouth and nose and you squeal- “Ngh- b-better when you’re shut up like th-this, Satoru–”

Just for that, he’s spanking your goopy pussy thoroughly. 

All the way until those shots of electricity down your bowed spine are nothing more but prickly tingles, all the way until your thundering ears calm down and you can hear each damp thwack!

All the way until your high has bated and yet, Gojo is still snogging each swollen fold of your pussy like a feast. “M’sensitive–” You sniffle, and he doesn’t even seem to hear you. “Fuh-fuck, Toru, keep doing that n’ m’not gonna let you ngh fuck me.” 

That’s what finally gets his attention. 

You can feel your lips burst with a slight giggle when all it takes is a quick nanosecond for Gojo’s plumpened mouth to jerk away from your cunt with the snap! of wiry slick.

Scrambling onto unsteady feet, he’s teetering over the edge of the wood ever-so-slightly. Muscular body casting a shadow on yours, and you think he’s never looked sexier.

Fawny strands of frosty white curtaining Gojo’s half-lidded eyes, thick thighs pressing against yours shivering; and even from your position homed towards the end of the table, your eyes catch sight of such a massively outlined bulge. 

Staggering. 

One that made your hands ghost down Gojo’s tensed abs, and he’s throwing his perspiration-dampened head with a whine. 

“Need you, Satoru–” You’re managing out, strangled and messy. You’re sure you sound just as yearning as you feel. Fingers tug-tug-tugging impatiently on his gauzy clothes, “Want- you- out of these-” 

And whatever the princess wants, the princess gets. 

It’s as if on command - Gojo’s shedding his billowy shirt like it burned him. And very, very soon were his snug pants to follow, your layers, his sanity-

“Hngh- please.” He’s gruffing out, flinching just as soon as you cup his cheeks to smear away the remaining traces of slick glimmering on top of his blushing skin. Your touch was electric. Tonality painfully hoarse, “Let me fuck you- wanted it for so long. Let me fuck you please.”

Your drenched pussylips stream out a damp spot right across where you could feel his inflated vein poke between your folds. And he felt so…long. “Yes- yes, please.”

Getting the princess to say please?

He’s nodding his head shakily - Gojo could pass out, he could cu- 

Oh, just a few taps of his mushroom tip on the outer edges of your pussy and he spots something creamy topping over your mound like icing. Sweat-slicked brows furrowing, Gojo nudges in even closer to where pooling splotches of cum pours from the strawberry pink divot right in the middle of his head.

He’s cumming and he couldn’t stop. 

Couldn’t do anything but whine at the tender bolts of bliss aching all the way from his toes to his fuzzy head.

“S-Satoru did you just-”

“Shut up.” Oh, you would have his head later for this. “Shut up- shut up and just…”

N’ so he curls a hand at his bulky base and draws out a thick swab at the torrents of seed decorating your cute cunt. Making sure the milky sap formulated a glossy cap on his crownhead, before pushing rigorously in-

“F-f-fuuuuck–” he keens out, a thin line of sweat trekking down the side of his temples. And if he pushed just an inch further, Gojo could feel his hooded eyes well up with fucking tears- “Tight so tight s-sooo hot- so…”

You’re mewling, “Deeper- c-c’mon.”

He was fucking you like he didn’t even realize it - like he was enchanted by each mindless rut pulled from the carnal depths of his hips. 

Two warm hands latch on in a vice-like grip on the delicious curve of your hips, and he’s holding your body still and pushing and pushing and pushing-

“Sh-shit!” Gojo’s voice pitches up embarrassingly high at the end of his slew of swears, buttering up your insides in a muggy few ribbons of pre in response. “But s-so tight- dunno if it’ll even…even fit.”

He sounded hypnotized. 

“Are you- ngh! are you alright, Satoru?” You’re musing out, eyes glassy with a solid combination of lust and utter concern. Before you know it, your hand is reaching out to stroke the ba-dump–! thudding against his pecs.

“No.”

And it takes only the slightest graze of your doughy fingerpads against his flaming hot skin, the slightest touch from you before Gojo rudely swats your hand away and bottoms out-

You don’t even know what you were mad at- were you mad?

You really can’t even remember. Not when the crowned tip of Gojo’s incredible length was planting a sweet peck right into the sponged ends of your cervix, the entirety of his shaft spearheading you so deep that you think he might just be fucking into your lungs. 

So big that he didn’t even have to try to rub the puffy zig-zag of his veins along your sweetest spots, even the most minute gyrations made your toes curl. 

Splitting you apart. Stroking the weepy base of your slit with the hot, rounded sack of his breeder balls so right that it made you putty in his hands.

“Don’t t-touch me, my princess.” Gojo’s nuzzling his tear-stuck cheek against your own, you could feel the warble of his unsteady confessions. “Don’t touch me or I’ll…I’ll cum.”

And when has Gojo Satoru ever lied to you? Well, the upturned jolt of his split-ended tip right into the target of your mushy cervix told you that he wasn’t.

Gojo’s sinking down the edges of his teeth into his wobbly lower lip, he’s forcing his eyes to narrow down n’ obscure his crystal clear image of you to stop himself from cumming. 

“So beautiful, can’t help it–” His breath hitches once he’s pushing apart your trembly thighs and stretching them over the two ends of his broad shoulders. Your ankles pitching down onto the rippling plush of his toned deltoids. “So perfect.”

“S-sweet-talker.” You whisper, mouth as dry as the Sahara with how his thick circumference was stretching out your rubbery walls until they were seering. 

But if Gojo heard then he didn’t snap back - he was too pussydrunken to.

Moving on instinct, on that carnal twinge inside his brain that forced his powerful limbs to lock your ankles with one hand behind his head. To brace an engulfing palm right beside your head and lower himself down, down, down into a-

A mating press. 

Gojo Satoru had you in a fucking mating press.

“So mine.”

And he was pounding all his aching inches into you like it would be the last time. Like he was mazing through your adhesive-like walls and plummeting the leaky end of his cock to knock against your very womb. 

Gojo’s nose crinkles at the sheer warmth you were coating him in, dripping fresh slathers of slick in rings ‘round his hilt. He shivers as it drools down his tight balls, “I’m…I’m really fucking you- ngh! I’m fucking you, my princess.”

“Yes- yes yes yes—” Your mouth parts ajar, and you don’t know what it floods more with - your pathetic whines, or saliva. Coating a treacly river from each curl of your lips, “More. More, Toru.”

Oh.

You might have just broken him with that. 

Even through your fucked-out stupor, you’re gaping at the way that the hand beside your head curls into an unyielding fist. It has to.

Otherwise, Gojo’s plump cockhead would be sugarcoating your sloppy hole in much more than just copious amounts of sticky precum. He would’ve cum.

“M-more?” You hear from above you, your knight’s bulging pecs vibrating with the plea. Oh, was it a plea - strained, shaking. Gojo sounded as if he was two seconds away from simply bursting into crazed laughter, “More…more. My princess wants- fuck! More?”

Fat ends of his fingers lock around the sides of your cheeks and force you into such an unladylike pout. “Say it- say it, little royal.”

“Shit!” Your core arches up into his hardened one, just as Gojo knew it would when angling his hips juuust right to give your bulging g-spot a long, hard swipe. Your throbbing clit scratching against his pale happy trail. “Yes- ngh yes I want more. Want more, Satoru!”

More. 

And more was exactly what you were going to get. More than you could handle.

Your thighs ache with the struggle to stay open when Gojo tightens his lock around your ankles. Gruffing out a tight, “Take it then.”

He was so sexy, the swelling flex of his biceps enough to make your pussy drool and him slip n’ slide pliantly. Jackhammering away rugged pumps that you feel all the way in your leaden throat.

Your most favorite spots are so bruised that they’re almost tender, curling the base of your spine with tendrils of bliss that make you yelp.

“O-ohhh my god—” The side of his neck dampens as you’re leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that make the man pinning you down shiver. His sculpted abs twinging with every massage down your front, “Just like that, a-always wanted to fuck you, Toru–”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Gojo hiccups, the expression upon his features plain pained. Voice dipping into a whine, “Don’t know what y-you’re doing t’me.”

But now that you were babbling away, you couldn’t stop. Not even when he’s speeding up his vigorous cadence until the globes of your ass are left stinging, “M’serious– I always wanted-”

“Shut up shut up- shut up- my princess.” You don’t think that either of you were even lucid at this point, and every pap! of skin-on-skin is followed by the screeching creak of the table below you. Gojo rolls his eyes down at you fondly, “Gotta m-make you cum so you can shut up.”

Otherwise you were going to drive him wild until there’s no turning back.

Before you can let off a moan - or fervently agree - he thumbs over the perked hood of your clit. Drawing- circles? Hearts? No, his own name. 

A tedious little S-A-T-O-R-U that makes your gushing walls clench oh-so-tightly around his sweltering length. Tummy tightening into something so close to shattering. 

And Gojo was rough. Snickering at the way you whine, spilling out wadded volumes of spittle between your parted lips. He breathes, “Gonna make you cum- g-gonna make my princess cum.” You swear he nods down at your pussy and grins, “G-gotta be a good girl f’me, m’kay? Gonna be a good- girl- and…”

His hips slap sloppily against yours, overworked thumb stuttering on a swooping U over your sensitive nub. And the tension in the air pulls tight, tight, tight like the most delicate of strings, before crashing- “-cum.”

You don’t know who cums first - you or Gojo. 

All you know is that as soon as your mind explodes with bursts of bliss - his poor cock does, as well. 

Head toppling backwards, overfilled pussy slopping out waterfalls of sweet, sweet juices, it’s all you can do not to sob. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck-” Your nails rake red, red lines all down his expansive back. Pulling him in even closer until all he can manage are dirty lil’ half-thrusts to pound you through your high. “M’cumming, Toru-”

“Y-yeah?” Gojo’s stuttering wetly, sloppily. Pushing the fat battering of his fountaining orifice into the groove of your g-spot over n’ over n’ over. You didn’t know how anything could feel so good. “N’ who made you cum, hm? Who’s f-fucking this pretty pussy, hm?”

“You-” You’re prattling, “You, Satoru.”

“Fuck.” Gojo gapes in wide-eyed craze, breath hitching when you lean over to drag your tongue over the sappy trickle of drool escaping his rose-red lips. “G-gonna make me cum again, swear-”

And he does.

“Can- can we hold hands while I hck! fuck you through your high, my princess?” He bats his lashes, a delicate blush taking over the tips of Gojo’s ears when you lace your fingers together. 

You can feel the splat! of even more heavy seed hitting the bottom of your pussy, swashing a warm second coating to your elastic walls every time Gojo thrusts. He was so solidly inside. Pinpointing specks of pure white with each swab. 

So full. So much of his voluminous ounces that it’s taken to tipping over from between your pussylips and forming a creamy puddle below you. You’re slipping all over it with every slither of Gojo’s cock.

But neither of you can even think to bring yourselves to be disgusted. To care for etiquette. 

Because Gojo drifts his hand over an invisible line where your tummy was being bloated with his length and his cum- and you find yourself aching for more all over again. 

“This looks…” Gojo starts, syllables scratchy and jagged. He’s practically whimpering - whimpering - at the sight of that lecherous cylindrical bulge being fucked into you. 

You’re dripping with him, and his cock twitches ferally at the thought of you all round and glowing. What a pretty mama you’d make. “...looks like the n-next heir to the throne will be a Gojo, my princess.”

Oh, you liked the thought of that.

And looking at Gojo Satoru now - eyes still not fully focused with how ruined he was, skin blushed the same maidenly shade of red that his slobbering mushroom tip was, pretty smile directed at you and only you in this lilac-scented haze - you didn’t think you wanted it any other way.

But, of course, Gojo would never want it any other way, either. Never. 

He clears his throat, sapphire gaze hardening; the intensity of it sending chills sprinting down your spine. Burning with a fervent I love you I love you I love you.

Massive hands intertwined with yours pull into your line of vision, and Gojo takes his dear time pressing a lingering peck onto each n’ every single one of your knuckles. But particularly on the one above your left ring finger.

This was it. 

“My princess…run away with me?”

.

.

.

“Didya hear ‘bout that Prince Naoya?”

“Oh yes- had his bride stolen away by a knight, I hear. Put a knife to his throat n’ took her away in the dead of night!”

“Hogwash! The boy was a looker, she went quite willingly, see- I always did think that Naoya wasn’t good ‘nough for our princess.”

“Wonder what happened after? That Zenin bunch was quite furious I hear, that bratty prince is still out for blood. But ol’ Naobito and some commander came to the rescue- Somethin’ about corruption and Jinichi…”

“Bah! Who cares about that? S’the biggest royal affair of the century- a handsome knight sweeping away the beloved princess? They’re swoonin’ n’ calling him the Knight of Roses already. All I wanna know is how the young couple is doing!”

Yaga rolls his eyes at other rambunctious customers churning gossip-mill, a pint clutched tightly in one hand and a scrap of paper in the other. 

Honestly, he comes to the pub for once to escape from palace duties - and the palace duties seem to want to escape with him! 

And even after so many months since that engagement party fiasco? News really did trickle down slowly when royal scandals were so often covered.

Oh, whatever. He muses, thumb gliding over the glossy parchment- some new innovation from kingdoms beyond the sea, according to what the eagerly-accompanied writing had said. A…a photograph, you had called it.

And Gojo’s surprisingly intricate drawing of you fiddling with the ah- camera gave him an idea of the machinery, though- most of the sketches were of you. All of them, actually.

Yaga gazes on in slight wonderment at the perfect black and white depiction of your smile, rivalling the one of Gojo Satoru’s beside yours. Beaming, sleeves rolled up and fatigued with a day of hard work, so in love. 

It was oh-so-positively sweet.

The cherry on top? Well, Yaga couldn’t quite decide between the matching bands glinting on each of your left ring-fingers, the glimpse of a pretty lil’ cottage behind you two, and the massive bouquet of undoubtedly deep red roses Gojo was presenting you with.

Or perhaps it was the hand you were resting absent-mindedly on the obviously rounded curve of your tummy.

How fortunate, he tucks away the photograph into his coat with a smile and orders another pint. Knight of Roses, indeed. 

A/N. Yearning is my kink mhm. Hope you have a lovely week <3

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