Ë àŒ đŒđŠčâïœĄË a pledge to keep series masterlist Ë àŒ đŒđŠčâïœĄË
summary: getting knocked up by your older brotherâs fratbro wasn't exactly apart of your five year plan. least of all with notorious fuck boy ryomen sukuna.
pairing: frat!kuna x reader
content: everything in this series is considered 18+ so not minor friendly! contains mature content such as rough sex, breeding, spanking, spit play, lactation kink, descriptive child birth, postpartum depression, probably more
dividers by: @petalpxl | series moodboard | art by lorinmower
chapter one: how you met \ chapter two: of course it's yours, you fucking idiot!
chapter three: meeting the itadori's \ chapter four: hospitals and hot dad walks
chapter five: fratuncles \ chapter six: more than co-parents
chapter seven: graduation \ epilogue
series oneshots/drabbles:
1. stinky feet bandit â 2. late night feeds â 3. daddy's little poop monster â 4. baby carrier experiment â 5. yuji loves his baby cousin
honestly the whole deal of the batboys dressing up as each other for JLA business is, objectively, supremely funnier if their identities arenât even hidden anymore. they don't need to fill in for each other, the kids just like annoying everyone. they'll swap outfits and lie whenever they can, just to see how long they can go before one of them gets caught out. they'll always get found in the oddest moments and it never fails to piss off everybody else at the Watchtower.
-
Wonder Woman: -oh, and thank you to Red Robin for that piece of insight you gave us last week, it was very helpful.
Damian dressed up as Tim, has no idea what she's talking about: ....no worries.
Aquaman: oh i wasn't here last week, what did you say?
Red Robin:
Red Robin: ....if you... sprinkle cinnamon on your window-ledges, then spiders aren't as likely to come into your house...?
Aquaman:
Wonder Woman:
Woman Woman: i was referring to the fact that you checked our suspect list and absolved Leonard Woodgate from suspicion due to his documented presence in Gotham during the incident.
Red Robin:
Red Robin: ah.
Wonder Woman, glaring at him: Damian.
Red Robin: fuck.
-
*Nightwing, on his phone at the meeting table*
Green Lantern: hey, Dick, can you pass me my coffee?
Nightwing: *doesn't glance over*
Green Lantern: Dick.
Green Lantern: Diiiick?
Green Lantern: RICHARD? DICK???
Batman walking in: you called me?
Green Lantern, looking between them: w- oh for fucks sake- WHERE'S BRUCE?
Dick as Batman, shrugging: honestly i didn't even ask- hey, Tim, where's B?
Nightwing: *still doesn't look up*
Red Hood, showing up in the doorway: did you say my name?
Dick as Batman, now also slightly confused: ...oh is Jason me today?
Jason as Nightwing, finally looking up: oh- sorry, what? completely zoned out there.
Tim as Red Hood: yeah man, i'm Jason, Jason's you, and you're B while he's at the dentist.
Dick: ...huh.
Green Lantern: IF YOU CAN'T TELL HOW THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO?!
-
Robin, walking into the room: i'm here, are we starting the meeting soon?
*The rest of the league not giving him a second look*
Superman: ah, hello Damian. yes, sit down, we're starting soon.
Robin:
Robin:
Tim as Robin, angrily: oh fuck off- I AM NOT SHORT ENOUGH TO PASS AS DAMIAN.
The JL:
Damian as Red Robin, walking into the room and muttering under his breath: told you, you loser.
-
bonus:
*Red Hood, pouring himself a coffee in the Watchtower kitchen*
Arsenal, coming up behind him and pinching Hood's ass: hey sexy, you coming to mine after this thing or am i coming to yours? we went to mine last time, but i dunno the weather in Gotham this week, so your choice.
Red Hood:
Red Hood:
Arsenal: what?
Dick as Red Hood: this cannot fucking be how i find out you're fucking my little brother, Roy.
Arsenal:
Arsenal: are you fucking- STOP DOING THIS.
Jason as Batman, walking into the room and looking at them for a second:
Jason as Batman: please tell me-
Dick: you treat my fucking brother with respect, Harper.
Jason as Batman: *loses his shit*
Arsenal, staring at the ground chastised, as Batman cries from laughter on the floor across the room: ...yes Richard. I will.
One of the best parts of reading Batman and The Signal was the banter between Duke and Jason based on their districts in Gotham. And I think it would be hilarious if we saw more of that.
Duke: Why are you slowing down? Itâs straight on.
Jason: Iâm trying to figure out if this is the turn or if these co-ordinates are off.
Duke: Itâs literally down there. Look, big sign. Can your Crime Alley ass not read?
Jason: At least we can read the street signs.
Duke: You donât have street signs. You have arrows sprayâpainted on trash cans.
Jason: Better than the Narrows. You get lost and you fucking pray Killer Croc jumps up from the sewers and fucking eats you just so you don't have to spend another second on those streets.
Duke: At least we have streets. Crime Alley is just a string potholes holding hands and one burning trashcan.
Bruce, over comms: Signal, Red Hood, table your conversation or you can get your asses back to the Cave.
Steph, over comms: Get a load of this Crest Hill bitch.
Jason: Stand your HOA ass stand down, Spoiler. Widow Creek isn't that great.
Steph: At least we have running water and flushing toilet, Park Row bitch. And before you even start Drake, your Bristol ass is on thin ice.
Tim, not even working that night: The fuck did I do??
Ë àŁȘà«źâ đ.đđđ đđđđđ đđđđ đ â is your toxic ex who's now making your student life hell.
‿ ê° satoru knew that his sweet girl couldn't last without him. he just had to make you realise that :: college au :: smut :: age gap ( 40s / 20s ) :: toxic dynamics :: kinda yandere behaviour :: dumbification :: p in v :: m.masturbation :: phone sex :: thigh riding :: rough sex :: degradation :: praise :: creampie :: overstimulation :: financial disparity :: mean!toru ê±
⥠âË⧠beta read by my pookie baby @aves1018 <3
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË was your scandalous little secret. all heaven smiles and devil eyes. blue. bright and brutal in the same way he carried himself. he was as charming as he was cunning. the right mix of taboo and terror that made your little heart flutter whenever he cast you a glance over his rimless glasses as he set your perfect-score down in your table. muttered a âthat's my girlâ to your ear when brushed by him to leave the class. spanked your thigh under that skimpy little skirt when no one was lookingâ but anyone could see.
being professor gojo's favourite was something dangerous. something fun, something frightening, and the infinity in between.
he took care of you. showered in you in spoils. took you back to his apartment after stressful hours and fucked you into his leather couch until you left pretty red scratches down his back. with the same nails that he paid to manicure. you were always seen. always praised. you lacked nothing when it came to being in his arms.
but you couldn't do it any longer.
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË was twice your age. in his forties with silvers slipping between his white strands. creases setting in the corners of his eyes. his tongue tasted like aged wine. his hands laced with experience you could only dream of. but with all the pros of dating an older manâ came the deep, dreary insecurity.
insecurity that you wouldn't be enough. that you weren't permanent. that you were just a little taste but not the one that'll quench his thirst. really, what did a man with his qualification and achievements need from you other than something to pass the time?
and to top it all off? his possessiveness knew no bounds. it was quiet, not violent, but sharp. the kind of thing that left you paranoid whether you were toeing a line or not. he didn't approve of your friends. couldn't handle your classmates. hellâ he failed the boy that sat next to you all semester just because you flashed him a smile.
so with all facts considered? you were gonna leave him. it was for the best rather than drag you both down a love that was doomed.
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË wasn't too bothered when you told him it was over. it was in the car. he saw it coming. knew you were reaching a limit. he still snapped at the waiter who dared to laugh at your little joke that was meant for him.
but sure. you wanna break away just because he loved you so much? not an issue. he could see the tears in your eyes. the tremble in your fingers as you took the bag that he bought you as he dropped you off at your dorm building.
no. he wasn't too bothered. why would he be? you'd always be his. and little miss daddy-issues-and-academic-insecurity needed his validation to function.
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË started in class. a week after you left him. your assignment was handed in with shaky hands rather than confidence. and he was more than happy to mark you down. why should he glance over your little mishaps anymore? you didn't need his special treatment. so, yeah, he didn't bat an eye as his hand sharply pressed your assignment sheet your desk as he passed. not even casting you a glance. looking on ahead as you crumbled at your B-.
âtry harder next time. you're better than this.â
he said it so easily. as if he was always capable of seeing you as nothing in those cutting blues eyes.
it seemed to be a trend. he'd hand you back your assignments. they weren't what you expected. and when you slipped the spot of top ranked student in his quantum physics class?
well, he didn't bother looking up at you as you stood before his desk. hands gripping your newest assignment. almost hesitant to hand it in.
âhow's that even possible?â you asked, soft.
âawww baby.â he only tilted his head. pinched his brows at the centre. looked at you with that soft look that was oh, so condescending now. âpeople change. you know that better than anyone, huh?â
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË knew that his validation meant everything to you. now you weren't his top student, weren't the object of his praise. no more mouthed âatta girlâs or treating you to your favourite restaurant after another stellar score.
you were struggling to get by. scraping to get back to your straight a's. to achieve even a hint of his favour.
you never did. it was a downhill spiral. and everyone knew what an asshole professor gojo could be. so of course no one batted an eye when he belittled you in class.
âguess I expected too much,â he'd sigh after calling out your marks for the last test. he didn't have to. but you knew what he did.
as he leaned back in his chair with his arms behind his head. cutting that stare that you'd grown to flinch at over.
âso much for star student, huh? try better next time. know you can do it.â
he knew you could.
but knew you wouldn't. not now that you were spiralling.
not when you weren't his favourite girl anymore.
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË caught you outside at the steps that day. night time. you probably spent all afternoon in the library studying to make up for the embarrassment. for your sin of slipping in your grades. he knew you would. knew how you operated.
knew you'd be all teary as you walked down the steps with your hand tight on your book bag. trying to ignore him.
âawww baby. what's wrong? you crying?â
you didn't flinch when satoru caught up to you. when he cradled your face in that way he knew you loved to be comforted. bit back a grin as you resisted the urge to press your head into his palm and fall into his arms.
âoh c'mon. you crying over me? didn't say anything bad. you know how I operate.â
all low and gentle. in that voice he used when he used to tutor you and you just couldn't grasp what he was saying. like you were his silly girl. his sweet girl.
long fingers slipped around your jaw. gripped on your cheeks and squished them as he tilted your head up. towering over you but leaning over so that his white strands tickled your tears.
âdon't look like that, princess.â he muttered. pressing a firm kiss into your lips and smearing your gloss. not tender, but taunting. not comforting, but still charming enough to have you whimpering and clinging to his shirt.
and as he pulled back, a grin split his lips still hovered over yours. half-hung lashes batting at your falling tears.
âjust try harder next time, yeah?â
before he patted your cheek and you left you stranded on the stairs.
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË knew that you needed him in more ways than one. not only did he soothe that insecurity in your heart but he also sealed the hole in your wallet. and now? he knew you were struggling. you didn't order out as much. didn't have the luxury to. you walked back to the dorm. lifts must be costly. you sure as hell didn't have your nails done every other week. he missed the acrylics and blue you'd insist on. but heyâ you made your bed.
didn't mean that he didn't feel sorry for you when he spotted you at your favourite cafe. probably ordering a tea like you did now. not your favourite sweet treat and hot chocolate.
yeah. it was pity. definitely not the need to remind you what you were missingâ as he called to the barista from behind you. âget the lady a hot chocolate and a strawberry crepe, please?â
as he leaned over your stiffening form, arm grazing yours as he slid his black card over. murmuring a soft, âI've got you, sweetheart,â to your ear when the barista turned.
you let him sit with you that day. spoke to him properly for the first time in months. even if you couldn't hold his eye contact. even if you thanked him a hundred times and over.
while he gave you a gentle look, inwardly? he was grinning.
bingo.
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË knew he had you slowly wrapping around his finger again. that's why he had no shame when he leaned back in his couch that day. remembering your weight in his lap. swiping through his folder that he refused to delete. full of your pretty body, your slutty expressions and your messy thighs.
that's why he didn't feel bad as his hand wrapped around his hard dick that slapped back on his tummy, smearing some pre on his abs.
why he groaned your name without care as he squeezed in his angry tip. remembered the way you'd whine as he rubbed it on your little clit. how you'd cry out as he kissed it in your cervix.
fuck. he remembered how your thighs would quiver for him. how that smart mouth of yours would reduce to a babbling, stuttering, slutty whimper of his name as he ragdolled you on his cock.
his hand sped. his other swiping to your contact. you hadn't blocked him. it's your fault for the voice note you'd receive. of his harsh grunts and his rasped gasps accompanying that wet shlick shlick shlick.
of his voice, groaning your name low like it was both his sin and salvation.
âsweetheart, fuck. look at what you do to meâ fuck. still work me up so fuckin' much even when you aren't mine. miss your pretty pussy. miss my sweet girl so soooo bad."
he'd whine. he remembered how much you like that. liked hearing him lose himself as he slammed all the way in and rutted as he frothed you up.
now? it was all over his hand. and he made sure the voice note heard just how much he wished it was in your sweet little cunt instead.
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË expected you to not answer him. but you still didn't block him. still didn't report him. you wouldn't. you loved him too much. loved the thought of him. did you think that while you touched yourself to his voice note?
he knew you did. knew you didn't get yourself that. knew you probably sat there playing with your cute clit and whining his name all pitifully as you tried so desperately to cum the way he'd make you squirt back then. back when you were his.
you know what else he expected? you to storm into his office and accuse him of marking you down purposefully. your mid term marks were sent out that morning. he made sure of it. made sure you'd have to face the man, your ex, who sent you a five minute long voice note of him fisting his big cock to you.
âsuch accusations, sweet girl.â satoru drawled, lazy, as he leaned his head on his hand and his elbow on the desk.
âif you think so, I'm not opposed to you sitting with me while I mark your next assignment. I've got the next stack set for this afternoon. wanna come confirm your claims?â
his brow arched. his diamond eyes invited you. his velvet voice dared you.
and you did. of course you did. he expected that too.
his fourth expectation? that you'd find your way in his lap. with that skirt he loved so much. with your thighs slotted over his knee and his hand cradling your ass while his other graded papers.
you were soaking through his pants. he could feel it. the same way he felt you tremble as he flipped to your assignment. squeezed your ass and bounced his knee to grind up on your cunt.
âthose poor panties must be so drenched, huh pretty?â he crooned to your ear, squishing you down onto his bounces and grinds. enjoying your whimpers. your whines as your hands fisted on his shirt.
âlook at that,â he pouted, dragging the edge aside of your panties aside so that your clit ground perfectly on the fabric of his pants. âsuch a slutty student. think this is gonna get you extra credit?â
swat! his fingertips came down in your clit. his leg bounced again to force your needier grinds.
he grinned. cruel and cold on your ear as the sharp strokes of his red pen sliced through the air.
âmm. you're gonna need it. my sweet girl's become a stupid girl in my absence.â
he laughed as you whipped around. as you looked over. saw your assignment littered in red.
and the worst thing is? as he unbuckled his belt and manhandled you over his thighs so your back faced his chest to give you a better lookâ as his cock slapped on your cunt and dwarfed your folds as he slid between them. as his tip rubbed on your clit in that same way that had you tremblingâ
you saw it.
saw that he wasn't marking you down in any way that you didn't deserve.
and as his cock plunged in and your back through in an arch. as he snatched your waist and bounced your little cunt on his cock that split you open and had you creaming in seconds. . .
he taunted you. squishing your thighs and biting on your ear. âpoor girl. poor, stupid girl.â
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË wasn't even surprised when he got a call the next week. an internship at that institution you'd always prattle so excitedly about. poor you. you probably thought just because he had you in his lap and called you his sweet girlâ just because you were his once upon a time, that he wouldn't give you a bad reference to the job of your dreams, huh?
poor, sweet, stupid girl.
he was beginning to like your tears. your eyes looked pretty when they were glossed and your lashes were all damp. as you blinked up at him after you burst into his office again. face blotched and hands clenched.
âhow could you?â you croaked. âIâ you know how important that is to meââ
âyou were important to me too.â
âthat's not the point! so what you sabotaged me because I broke up with you? what don't you get satoru? we can't do this! what kind of person wouldââ
you trembled so prettily when he stood. when shook his head with a sigh and slipped his glasses into his hair.
âsweetheart, sweetheart," he tutted, circling his desk and backing you into it once he got in front of you.
âyou don't get it, do you?â there's that condescending tone again. the one he used because to him, you were just his dumb, naĂŻve girl.
big hands came down on the edge of the desk that you pressed into. trapping you against the wood and his wickedness as he leaned over. towering you as always. face pressing closer. brows pinched and knitted upwards. face that mockery of sympathy.
âbaby, sweetheart, my sweetest girl. here's the thing.â his lips brushed yours. you tensed. teary eyes wide and staring into his.
âI realised. I'm not a good person when it comes to you.â
velvet and diamond. smooth and cutting. like it was simple fact. a set fate.
his head crooked. glasses slipping down his nose and brutal blues pinning you from over the rim.
ây'know. if you come back to me, you wouldn't have to worry about all this. . .â
his sly fingers brushed your hair back. a kiss pressed to your temple.
âI'd take care of you.â
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË knew you were on the brink. knew it wouldn't take long before you were in his arms again. he just had to wait. even when his fingers ached for your skin. when his lips burned for yours. when his palms itched to just grab you by the waist and drag you back to him cause you were such a stubborn girl.
but he'd wait. wait for you to make the decision. wait for you to realise that you were always his and he was the best you ever had.
so you could imagine his grin when you stayed back after class. when you stood in front of his desk with your eyes batting at him. hesitant. shaky. when you asked him for extra credit in his class that you were now borderline failing. but most of all, when you offered your pretty body to him without him even uttering a word.
this is what he meant. what he waiting for. for you to make the moves. to miss him. to want him.
he fucked you into your dorm bed that night. with your face shoved down and your fingers clinging to your pillow. ass clapping and brushing with his brutal thrusts that smacked his heavy balls on your folds. cock splitting you open and spilling your creamy mess all over the wrinkled sheets.
his hand in your hair. his voice rough in your ear.
âlike that, sweetheart? want it like that?â he grinned, feral and cruel as you mewled when he angled right. shoved into a sweetspot and ground so filthily until your eyes rolled back as you drooled his name into the pillow.
âmissed how I fucked youâ right here?â
âr-right there! please!â
âuhuh? righhhttt here?â
he drawled. hand smacking down on your ass and leaving a sting, before he reached around. pinching and pulling on your spasming clit. as he slammed! all the way in. jamming his hips with yours and rutting on your messy, creaming folds. so a lewd, clickclickclick muffled from your overly-stuffed cunt.
âfuckââ satoru rasped. eyes wild and dilated as his fingers bunched your hair tighter. shoved your face further into the pillow. âtake it. take this cock like you were born to. like this slutty cunt missed it.â
he missed your squirts. missed your sobs. missed the way your hand tried to scramble back and grip on his hair as he pummelled your pussy all raw and rough into the ruined sheets.
his eyes fluttered back as you squeezed him again. as you struggled on his name and squirmed beneath him.
âs-satoâ satâ hngh.â
âsay it, sweetheart.â he grit, twisting your head up. slamming his hips faster. bouncing your body on the bed and slamming the headboard into the wall. making your cunt all puffy and his cock all creamy in your cum.
âsay my name. say you missed it. tell me whose pussy this is.â
âsatoruâ toru! toru torruuuu.â
âand don't you everââ he whined, cock plunging deep as the knot within him snapped. as he frothed him up the way he's been missing. lashes fluttering and eyes rolling back. a filthy, wet, thrust smacked on your bruising ass emphasised every word.
ââ ever. fucking. forget it.â
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË thought you would have came back to him after that, but he guessed you were more stubborn than he gave you credit for. that's fine. you just needed one more push. one more and then you'd be back where you finally belonged: in his arms.
so, yeah. he was responsibly fucking pissed when he saw you chatting up the campus fuckboy. hellâ when he heard rumours that you two were a thing.
but he calmed himself down. enough to not snatch you by the wrist in the hallway and shove you into a wall. kiss you until your knees trembled. shoved his tongue into your mouth for all to see until he lost his job. that what you wanted? wanted him to be ruined for you?
calmed himself down enough to wait until the day ended. so he could back you into an empty corridor's corner. his hand on your jaw. tilting your face up. so that you could stare into the eyes of the man who had you squirting all over his cock just a few weeks ago. the man who was always yours no matter how much you tried to admit otherwise.
âyou know he's not me, right?â he spoke, that nonchalance breaking for the first time in these wretched months you've been apart from him.
he leaned close. didn't kiss you. not your lips, but your temple. as he stared you down. cold. calloused. a warning cracked in those brutal blues.
âhe'll never treat you like me. never know how to handle a sweetheart like you.â
his voice shook. breath thinned.
and for the first time since you left him, satoru shattered.
not pitifully, not pathetically, not violently nor catastrophicallyâ
but sharp. and soft. and the kind of breathlessly that made you think his lungs were giving outâ as he slumped over you. free hand trembling on the wall right beside your head. still holding your face. cradling it now.
âguys your age won't treat you like I do baby. not like you deserve.â
his thumb brushed your lower lip. he whispered. raw and wrecked.
âwon't love you like I do. I love you sweetheart. I fucking love you. don't leave me here.â
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË really underestimated your stubbornness. your resolve. he was almost proud when you shoved him off and he let you go. when you walked away from him.
fine. he just had to wait a little longer. a little longer and you'd come back to him.
next week. a friday night. a phone call.
he didn't blink when he saw your name. when he answered. when he heard your soft, choked sob.
his voice melted into tenderness. soothed your cries. asked you where you were. came and picked you up, because he always would. you'd always be his sweet girl, after all.
satoru warned you about that guy. so he wasn't surprised when he pulled up to the street that you were dropped off on. in the middle of the night. cold and alone. all teary eyes and trembling knees. wasn't surprised when you scrambled into his car and clung to the jacket he gave you.
he listened. as he always did. listened as you cried and ranted and raved about how that guy broke your heart several times tonight. then kicked you out of his car and left you stranded. like you were nothing.
he took you into his arms. as he always did. took you into his arms after he cradled you into his apartment. held you close as you clung to him. hiccuping into his chest and sobbing into his shirt. apologising, crying, apologising, sobbing.
apologising.
begging.
âssshhh I've got you sweet girl.â strong arms looped you closer. cradled you in that protective warmth with one hand cupping the back of your head and the other one your hip. as he hushed your cries. assured you. squeezed your hip and whispered so tenderly.
âI've got you no sweetheart. not gonna let you go again, okay? I promise baby.â
Ë àŁȘê° PROFESSOR SATORU ê± ËË who cradled your head closer and pressed his lips to the top of your head.
who held your close. who promised to never let you go.
who slipped his phone out of his pocket and held it up behind your head. still cradled by his other, big hand. with his soft kiss still on your hair.
his thumb slid across the screen.
transaction completed.
the final half paid to that bum of a guy you insisted on. who broke your heart for some cash. funny how a little bit of money was all you needed to have your way.
and as satoru held your close. with his arms snuggling you to his chest, and his eyes finally fluttering shut. he relished.
because yeah. you're finally back into his arms. just needed a little nudge.
Synopsis. A jester marrying a princess? Not even in the most terrible joke.Â
Gojo Satoru has loved you ever since the first time he made you laugh, heâs loved you since you appointed him as your personal jesterâand heâs loved you even when your royal engagement was announced.Â
But if only a prince can marry a princessâŠmaybe a jester can wreck it.
A/N. TO THE LOVELY BABYGIRLS THAT HAVE BEEN BEEEEGGING FOR THIS TROPE- and inspired by the very talented @/karolineprihodko on Tiktok <33
âA fool may sleep. A fool may sneer. A fool may ask why the princess is crying here?â
Itâs so sudden that it stops your tears.
Crouched in a small passageway near the royal court. Between the gleaming armors upon display of Gakuganji the Great and Kashimo the Fierce. For a brief moment of madness; you think you must have imagined the lilting voiceâalmost melodic. Marvelous.
Itâs one of the most beautiful things youâve ever heard - even more so than the music wafting from the open doors of court, brought by the travelling circus that your palace was entertaining.
And then youâre hearing him again.
âSob sob sobâfor my princess is a crier. Dear Gojo here, shall set Yagaâs stache on fireâ!â
That makes you finally lift your head out of your arms, with a laugh that is full-chested and unabashed. For the first time in a longâŠlong time.
âWhat might your name be?â You ask the boy with the bright blue eyes, and an even brighter smile.Â
And that was the story of how you met Gojo Satoru - when you were eight, and heâd been merely ten. Though he didnât look tenâhe mightâve looked even younger than you.Â
White hair. Winks of dimples upon each cheek. His face was chalk-white from the make-up typical of jesters, even young ones, supposedly.Â
He was drowning in a faded red and blue jester outfit that looked as if itâd been dragged through multiple shows a night. It looked far too big to have been his originally. Even through the patched-up collar, his collarbones showed, and from the too-wide sleeves; his pale, near-skeletal limbs stuck out oddly.Â
His face was pretty, however, with eyes too large for his head.Â
Gojoâs cheeks were sunken in, yet his smile wasnât the slightest bit smaller. That, too, looked too large to be his.Â
And youâŠ
Crying outside the royal court, after your parents had declared you far too young to see the travelling circus. The acrobats. The sword-swallowers. And one little jesterâŠthat had gone missing during the processions.Â
Though, in time, Gojo took delight in weaving in additional parts of fighting off dragons and two haunted knight armorsâenraptured courts that clapped and laughed as he sang of a white-haired fool and his crying princess. Heâd whisked you off your feet and made you swoon in ways a princess utterly shouldnât - and then produced you before your horrified father, His Majesty, as the sole suitor that made you laugh.Â
At least according to him.
Though one thing was true from that fairytale: Gojo had been the only person to make you laugh. The only one.
Previous jesters and palace acts wavered between confusing you with their overly long ballads, or enraging you - all because they assumed some little princess couldnât handle humor. And maybe that was why - Gojo hadnât underestimated you - that youâd gone right up to your father in the middle of a particularly splendid fire-breathing act, stood in the center of the lavish floor, and declaredâ
For Gojo to be released from the circus to become your personal jester.
As a royal jester he would be clothed, bathed, and tutored alongside you - so long as he kept you entertained with his rhymes (to which you had no doubt that he wouldnât falter).Â
Not minister nor royal guest should lay a hand on him. He was to be treated as an equal member of the court, and should have titles bestowed upon him in due timeâbut for now, he will grow up as your best friend. Your only.
And whilst declaring this in about as much royal haughtiness as you could have managed, you looked over at Gojo. You donât remember for what reason. You donât remember what you were looking for.
All you remember is that Gojoâs eyes seemed brighter in that moment, like the nightâs cloak of stars. There were tears in his eyes.
And he flashed you his crooked grin.
You grinned back.
His Majesty and the advisors didnât take long to mull over the thought before asking the circus master to name his price for the boy. And Gojo had been small then - oh-so-small - a mere waif of a boy. He was clearly the youngest amongst these adults, and the circus master hadnât even remembered he was part of the troupe.
Heâd demanded two crowns and a bag of wheat.
To which The King had obliged with a simple wave of his handâbefore freeing the other circus members, as well. He was mercifulâŠmost of the time.
And youâd been so overcome with joy that you ran to the jester and took his hands then and there.
Had it been in the little passageway where youâd met, then you might even have embraced him.
But perhaps youâd given the ministers enough conniptions for the day?
âFollow me.â You breathlessly whispered to the little jester that seemed far too shocked for words. âI shall summon the royal tailor whilst you take your bath- we have every fragrance in the land, and more than enough botanical springs.â
But the longer he stayed speechless and unmoving, the more self-conscious you grew.
Your fingers loosened around his, âThatâŠthat is if you wish to-â
âI do.â He stopped you from slipping away - he clasped your hands even tighter. Tight enough to nearly hurtâbut you didnât stop him. âI-Iâd be honored, Your Highness.â
âYou shanât have to call me that.â
And though a few eavesdropping court ladies and gentlemen gasped at the destruction of long-held social etiquette, Gojo had merely smiled and nodded. And then youâd been the one to whisk him away.Â
You.
Gojo shared little about his upbringing that first day in the palace, and even less over the years. You knew that heâd been born into an average family just a kingdom over - Gojo itself was a fairly used name - but tragedy struck and his parents both passed awayâalthough you never asked how, and he never shared why. It almostâŠseemed as if he didnât remember. A part of him that had scrubbed out most of those years, like a bloodstain.
And heâd lived in the same lifeless home as them for five days. Trying to wake them.
No one listened.
No one arrived.
No one helped.
No one helped.
No one helped.
Driven by hunger and loneliness, Gojo finally left the house after those five days. And just his fortune, he hadnât walked long before encountering the travelling circusâso many jugglers and jesters and acrobats and fire-breathers. And one master leading them from the front.Â
Heâd been both enraptured and scared.
And hungry. SoâŠso hungry.
Even the smell of the lion food was appetizing to him.Â
One acrobat passing by had spotted the boy watching wide-eyed from the side of the road, and seeing how desperate he was, shared her lunch and invited him to join. It was the biggest act of kindness heâd felt in five days.
And so he taught himself to rhyme. To joke. To smile.Â
And two years later was when you saved him- you told Gojo that it wasnât so much as saving him than him saving you. But he denied.Â
âThank you.â Gojo had whispered to you, almost fearful, during his first night in the palace. The Princessâs jester had been granted quarters right across the hallway from your own chambersâand yet, the first night was always the scariest, wasnât it?Â
Heâd given you quite the fright sneaking into your royal chamber after all the candles had been snuffed and your attendants had left. Soundless as a mouseâand looking just as unwelcome inside the gilded bedroom. But eventually, you welcomed him onto the lavish mattress far too large for even two.
Let alone two children.
Laid a fair distance apart, you faced each other.Â
âI forbid you to say those words again, Gojo.â You smiled. âAnd just for the one night, I trust?â You meant the bed-sharing; should your attendants walk upon this in the morning, then Gojo would be thrown into the dungeons faster than he can rhyme.Â
Gojo nodded, somewhat flushed. âJust for the one night.â
.
.
.
âSatoru-â
âMmmm, puff pastries and wagashi.â
âSatoru.â
âHuh? Ohhh, sweet cheesecake.â
âSatoââ The exasperated call of his name doesnât land before the kick does - square in the middle of Gojo Satoruâs broad back.Â
Sometime in the last few years, after heâd taken up training with General Yaga to keep himself fit for his dances, Gojo had started sleeping without his upper garments on.Â
And you couldnât deny that it was a sight for sore eyes; his sun-freckled sun, the dips and curves of his muscles shifting as he did. The roundness of his deltoids. The sensual curve of his spine. The patterns of his scapulae, and lash marks that he wouldnât explain. They moved like waves of an ocean, and they peaked and fell just as much. Some mornings you dared to trace every single oneâjust with your eyes, of course.Â
But of course, he was just your best friend - socially, your jester, at that.
Which is exactly why youâre kicking him off the bed the second you hear your morning attendants heading down the corridor. As soon as heâs out of sight, the double doors to your bedroom openâand theyâre floating inside with steaming-hot trays of breakfast and new fragrances for your skin.Â
One of the attendants sets the breakfast tray down on your bedside table, and you sneak him a few of the blueberry-spotted pancakes. Though have to slap Gojoâs hand away from swiping the syrup, too, before one of them sees.
âSuch a beautiful day, isnât it, Your Highness?â Your head attendant, Utahime, trills as she throws the curtains open to let soft morning sunlight flood inside. âThe perfect morning.â
âIt is.â Youâre nodding. You slap Gojoâs hand away from the syrup again.
âAnd we have no more than an hour to get you ready, Your Highness. So I beg you to finish your tea quickly.â Another attendant hands you your morning tea - just how you liked it. It smelled of something floral that reminded you of the royal gardens, and something else so utterly appetizing that you could feel Gojo huffinâ and puffing about beneath you.
Served him right for sneaking in again, you think.
You slap Gojoâs hand away again. Utahime continues speaking onwards obliviously, ââprepare for the guest.â
âA guest?â That piques your interest.Â
This time, Gojo steals the syrup. And it creates a loud clatter that draws the attention of all the attendants sweeping and scurrying about to pick out your gown for the dayâyouâre unceremoniously coughing to cover it up. Youâre not sure it works.
Utahime crinkles her nose, âNasty little ailment, isnât it?â Her intelligent eyes dip down to the bed - though she keeps it discreet. Utahime, as well as being your head attendant, was one of your closest friends as well.Â
Close to you in age, youâd hand-picked her to be what was essentially your right-hand woman.Â
And she knew of the ratherâŠclose friendship that you and Gojo had; perhaps improper for court etiquette, but just right for the two of you.Â
From underneath the bed, Gojo snickers.Â
You bounce on the mattress, whilst Utahime kicks the bed post.Â
âAhâŠthis ancient bed.â Youâre commenting once the other attendants look at you with raised brows, âHonestly, sometimes I believe it to be haunted.â
âWake up to a mysterious figure at your bedside, do you?â Utahime eyes you. You avert your gaze from hers. âWell, we should do well to rid your chambers of that before the Prince arrives, Your Highness.â
âThe Prince?â
âPrince Zenin Naoya, of course.â
Gojo knocks his head on the bed frame.Â
.
.
.
Prince Zenin Naoya possessed many titles; the latest one being the most unpleasant royal youâve ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Which was saying rather a lot.
Youâve met many a-princess that were appalling to her attendants, and many princes that boasted their numerous wars. Your father himself fell into the latter group. And many, many more dukes and duchesses and marquisâand whatever other title had surfaced over the last few centuries and gotten latched-onto with rabid, golden-ringed claws. Had it not been for your duty to maintain a peaceful political climate, you would have forgone those social gatherings altogether.
Though your father was particularly careful not to repeat the border strife that had occurred not too long ago in your kingdomâŠsome violence-seeped dispute over power.Â
And so you lifted your head and plastered a smile.
You managed to clamor through even the most painful of social obligations.
But this oneâŠthis one might just force you to rewrite all the royal rules that had been drilled into you since you were younger.Â
âIt is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.â You nod in acknowledgement as the Prince bows. His coronet was made of pure gold; a simple band with a blood-red ruby in the middle.Â
It flashed at you menacingly.
And so did his pearly-white smile.Â
âThe pleasure is all yours, Your Highness.âÂ
Youâre taken aback at his choice of words. You meet Gojoâs eyes a little ways away from the court- and his read the same confusion. He shakes his head imperceptibly. Then Naoya turns to the King seated on the throne beside you instead. His smile leers, âMy utmost gratitude for this invitation, Your Majesty. My parents send their regards.â
âGood people, good people.â Your father nods, âTheir assistance duringâŠthose times of trouble shall forever remain in my memory.â
âWho are we if not united against the face of the radicals, Your Majesty?â Naoya graciously bows once more.Â
âWell said.â And then the King makes a sweeping gesture in your direction. âAnd in the future, it seems we shall be united once more.â
Naoya throws his gaze at you again, and the way he looks at youâŠit makes you hug your arms to yourself.
Youâre unsure why your gaze had been upon Gojo at that very moment - they always did seem to find him - but you watch as his expression darkens. Darkens. Darkens. In a way youâve never seen before, and then itâs hitting youâ
âFather?â
But he ignores you, âSatoruâ!â In the years that youâve brought Gojo to court, your father had become rather fond of his rhymes and riddles as much as you were. So it wasnât exactly surprising that he had been called upon, and Gojoâs expression switches instantly into one of foolish mirth. âWhy donât you share one of your amusing rhymes with our guest?â
âAs you wish, Your Majesty.â He bows deeply. As he makes his way to the middle of the court, where Naoya and his entourage were gathered, the bells upon his blue-and-white garments jingle.Â
And before you know it, Gojo clasps onto Naoyaâs shoulders and ensnares him with his words. âNaoya oâ Naoya, with your great riches and gait.â The corners of his lips twitch - something sharp. Gojo covers his mouth in a faux-whisper, though his words reach every single corner of the vast chamber. âEvery lady here knows you take potions to compensate~â
Naoyaâs face turns green then red. A furious red.
As if fearing the Prince would swing, Gojo jumps back- just in time for the hay-blond man to whirl around. âBut oh, no potion shall make Prince Naoyaâs rooster bigâthe most you ladies get will be the size of a fig~â
The jester laughs maniacally, and so does much of the court; you yourself canât stop from letting out a startled laugh or two.Â
Your best friend never did hold back - perhaps because he was the only one allowed to do so without fearing the threat of the dungeons.Â
And Gojo watches as a giggle slips past the hand youâd brought up to cover your mouth- and his grin widens as he takes it as a challenge. Dancing around Naoya, he continuesâ
âNaoya is hated by the ladies of the court. Naoya is hated in his medical reports~â He trills gleefully, darting a hand out and knocking Naoyaâs coronet off. âAnd all the ladies and all the healers, have never seen a cock this short~â
Red face now turning almostâŠa sickly yellow, Naoya attempts to fist-fight the jester. Though Gojo was far more agile than he looked, and he was dodging each hit with ease.
âOhâhave I offended you, Your Highness? Perhaps a change of paceâŠâ Gojo crows. âFor all Naoya hates women, he might as well court men-â
âYou- youââ
âEasy, son.â Your father chuckles to himself as well, âYou should do good to familiarize yourself with the Princessâs jester if you are to marry her.â
Gojo stutters- and his rhyme pauses. His eyes widen.
You feel the red, red carpet give out beneath you.Â
.
.
.
âI simply mustâŠapologize for Sato- my jester, Your Highness.âÂ
The clinking of silverware fortunately masked the waver in your tone. It was insincere and unapologetic.
Naoya maintains an expression as if heâd just smelled something unpleasant, perhaps as if it was on his very plate. The Prince cuts into his bird with far too much force than necessary, âApology accepted.â Rather short.
Though you yourself didnât careâyou shoot a look at the ministers that were currently attempting to meld into the royal portraits on the wall.Â
With nervous smiles, they urge you to continue.
It was a poor imitation of a romantic dinner - as romantic as a political marriage could get.Â
The royal dining room had a table that sprawled nearly from one end-to-end. Polished mahogany. Intricately-carved legs. So thick that they didnât buckle under the hundreds of dishes piled on top: soups to puddings to heart-shaped wagashi to those you couldnât even name. Woven in-between were flickering candles and vases of red, red rosesâsprouting confessions of love.Â
Some of those petals were even scattered across the floor.
Though the dining room could seat about four-hundred guests, right now it only seated him and you. You and your future husband.
Your future husband.
Your future husband.
Your future husband.
It still hadnât sunk in, and you didnât want it to.
Zenin Naoya takes a bite of his roasted bird and spits it back out. From his entourage, one of the Zenin ministers darts out with a dish to collect it.
You wrinkle your nose in distaste.
Two courts were watching this fallacy of courtship.Â
From your side, it was the entirety of your court save for some of the outer ladies-in-waiting and some gents, and your parents. From his side, it was Naoyaâs entire entourage at his every beck, call, and swallow. Just waiting for the opportunity that their beloved Prince didnât like anything.
Which seemed to beâŠeverything.
You yourself can only pick at the delicacies on your plate - theyâd done well to include favorites of both you and His Highness. And yetâŠ
And yet, in the past eighteen years youâve never sat through a dinner without Gojo at your side.Â
Always at your right-hand seat. Always chomping through his dinner with overexaggerated noises that made you laugh, and the ministers grimace.
How could you feel so alone surrounded by so many people, and yet lacking one?
Youâre biting back a sigh.
âPssst.â
Confused, you look up at Naoya- but he seems just as morbidly indulgent in his food as he was before. He was spitting out even more.Â
And so you look aroundâbut none of the ministers nor advisors catch your eye, either.
âPsssssst.â
There it was again. Somewhat irritated and feeling your confusion growing - this dinner certainly hadnât put you in a good mood - youâre about to excuse yourself from this social hostage-situation. Someone must be attempting to make a fool out of you. Youâre resting your hands on the polished table and about to push offâ
When you feel somethingâŠtouch your wrist.
Youâre about to scream-
âTamper your screaming, please.âÂ
Oh, well if they asked so nicelyâŠ
Wait-
Who?
Without making too much of a spectacle, you slide your fork off the edge of the table.Â
Naoya grumbles at the metallic ringingâand muttering a dainty apology, youâre leaning down to pick it up. Or so it seems.Â
Instead, youâre crouching yourself down and lifting the tablecloth ever-so-slightly. Itâs a purple velvet, one of the finest in the land, and it opens up to reveal one of the greatest treasures this palace held. At least, in your opinion.
Gojo Satoru brings a finger up to his lips and winks. His make-up crinkling handsomely as he did so, âDo you frequent these parts?â
âI should ask the same from you.â You hiss, glancing around to make sure that no one was looking. âSatoru, what do you think youâre doing-â
âExercising my culinary skills, my princess.â And he raises up a little velvet packet in one hand, shaking it around tantalizingly. He answers your question before you can voice it, âJust a little horseshoe, just a little wool from Yagaâs sweater, and perhaps the Prince that swallows this shall be a little sweeter~â
Your jaw drops. âYou cannot be serious-â
âNever in my life have I been more serious.â Gojo replies solemnly, then with an innocent flutter of his lashes- âForgive me for not sharing, my princess. But perhaps you would favor it as well?â
âIt shanât suit my palate.â You answer firmly.
âItâs far more palatable than what I did to the wine, trust me.â Gojo smirks.
âYou rouge.â
He opens his mouth as if to say something more, but Naoyaâs tone grates through the little bubble of mirth youâd formedâin less than a minute, no less. âWife- wife.â
You and Gojo stare at one another in shock.
Wife?
One of your ministers coughs pointedly, and with a final glance at Gojo, youâre straightening in your chair. âWere you perhaps addressingâŠme, Your Highness?â And any smart man would have quickly backtracked at this opportunity to change their answer.Â
But you never claimed that Zenin Naoya was particularly smart. âMy eyes donât perceive any other woman here?â He scoffs, taking a bite of a chicken leg and then immediately spitting it outââAs for the engagement plans- eugh.â
Youâre biting back a laugh as he drags out a string - seemingly from a woolâŠsweaterâŠof Yagaâs - from his mouth and looks at his ministers in bewilderment.Â
âTh-the chef must have been in a state of pioneering.â You cough out.
Another bite he takes.
And another wad of wool he spits out.Â
You bring a hand up to your lips, âPerhaps you should wash it down with the wine, Your Highness? It had been brewed specifically for this occasion.â
And so he does - eyeing you all the while.
Naoya takes a big swig of his goblet andâshrieks as he finds half of a shoe inside.Â
One of Gojoâs very own.
That shriek is loud enough to make the walls of the dining chamber rattle; and Gojo shoots out from the side of the dining table, unable to keep his laughter in control, and dances away. âTwiddle dee, twiddle dooâNaoya coughed up a shoe~â Those double doors are still swinging as it sinks in what just happened- and your ministers and guards take a menacing step towards where the colorful intruder had disappeared.Â
You raise your hand to signal them to halt.
âThis insolentââ Naoya was spitting with fury- unable to even formulate words. His mouth is a downturned slash, and he shoves the plate off the table. It shatters vociferously.
You notice that heâs turned a little green in the way he only seemed to do when Gojo was nearby. âMy first order as King shall be to rid this incompetent kitchen-â He spits. â-and that godforsaken jester-â
Your fork clatters to the floor once again. âWhatâs wrong with Satoru?â You didnât care if you sounded rather too offended by such a question. âIs it the practical jokes? I shall request that he ceases such-â
âWhatâs wrong? Whatâs wrong?â Naoya cackles to himself. âWoman, what is there not wrong about that goddamn fool? Heâs- heâsâa fool.â
âFor that is his duty, is it not?â You narrow your eyes at him.
âI suppose.â Naoya leans back in his chair, âBut his duty is to the crown, and when I am King-â
âHis duty is to me.â Before you know it, youâre standing. Youâre breathing hard. Youâre ignoring the ministers that attempt to hold you back. âHeâs my best friâjester.â
And you repeatâŠthough you donât know whether itâs more for yourself, Naoya, or the boy with the blue eyes that was once underneath the table.
âHeâs mine.â
Those words fall like the blade of a guillotine.Â
Naoyaâs eyes were spitting fire. âHeâsâŠyours, is it?â He throws his cape back and stands, âYour HighnessâŠI fail to understand why you entangle yourself with a mere jester?â Though the sentence itself wasnât one particularly barbed, his distaste bled through every syllable.Â
âHe- he is my best friend-â
âHe is a jester.â Naoya says with a tone of finality. He pushes back, letting the chair clutter behind him- the brings up a palm to stop his ministers from righting it. âAnd a jester can never be anything to a princess. Never.â
Those footsteps of his resound louder than your heartbeat. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
On the way to making his exit, he stops before the entrance and speaks. âWe are to be engaged in six moons, and when you are my wife, I expect you to act like one.â Naoyaâs gaze is deadly as he grips the door open, âMy family earned our titles bringing down entire households- a mere jester is nothing to me.â
Another guillotine: this time, itâs the closing of the dining room doors.
âYour Highness-â
But youâre following Naoya out, and tears burn behind your eyes.
Just as luck - or perhaps fate - would have it, who else had been standing behind the doors listening to every word? None other than Gojo Satoru.Â
Though his face is downturned, and you canât make out his expression, your heart soars at the sight of him. Heâs pressed against one of the walls closest to the doors, and he clenches his fists at his sides. And youâre just about to reach out- to tell him that Naoyaâs words didnât matter- to tell him that Naoya didnât matterâ
But before you could, Gojo sharply turns to you and bows. Those bells atop his hat jingle as he does so, and he stays bowed as he asks, âThis fool begs to be dismissed, Your Highness?â
Your Highness? âYouâŠyou mayâŠâ Your brows furrow, fingers trembling towards him. âBut Satoru-â
And yet, heâs gone.
And you didnât get a single look at his expression.
You wondered what you would see. You wondered what you would be hoping to see.
But no matter what it was, you knew that all you wanted to see - whether anger or mirth or irritation - was Gojo himself.Â
Your engagement was in six moons.
.
.
.
To your dismay, Gojo Satoru was avoiding you.
You should have realized that something was off that moment after the disastrous dinnerâor perhaps when he didnât join you to sleep, or perhaps when he hadnât joined court in the following days. According to one of the palace staff, the jester was ill, but every attempt at a visit to his quarters ended up with you being rebuffed or diverted.
And how many opportunities for diversion there were.
The palace was a-flush with florists, and bakers, and candle-makers, and mask-designersâand orchestras upon orchestras practising for your engagement waltz.Â
One of those times youâd been dragged away to floral-picking for the grand engagement ball - the one that would announce your union to the entire kingdom. Another time it had been to pose for a portrait with Naoya (a particularly taxing endeavour). And another time it was to pick out the colors for your mask- this was to be an extravagant masquerade ball after all. And another time it had been to get fitted for the ballgown youâd be wearing for the nightâlike exactly right now.
This time, youâd gotten just past the guards stationed upon either side of Gojoâs chambers (both on his word, and to prevent the Princess from getting into anyâŠscandalous affairs before the engagement).
And youâd cracked open the door - ever-so-slightly - only to find that what was insideâŠmade you halt.
Gojoâs room was completely and utterly empty.
Not just of himself, but of his literature books, his shoes, his bells, his flower vases. Anything and everything that made the chamber so utterly Gojoâs, was gone. Even the braid of friendship you wove for him when you were twelve - that he kept at the very top of his jewelry box - and the flower crowns you made for him that he dried and hung from his windowsâyou made them rather often, beforeâŠNaoya.Â
He had intruded upon your idle dance between love and friendship - and you were still feeling bitter and confused as Utahime fitted you. As she wound up the hip springs of your corset- and tightened, and tightenedâ
âI just fail- hah, fail to understand.â Youâre muttering, slightly out-of-breath.
Utahime looks up from the knots of your corset, âYour Highness?â
The royal tailor had just stepped out to aid in bringing the imported silk and cloth of gold up to your bed chambers, and in the meantime your attendants were helping tighten your numerous layers underneath. Your ballgown - engagement dress, more precisely - would be fitted on top of the base linen undergarments and the crinolines.Â
Tonight, you will be engaged.
And to a man that has never made you laugh once-
âYour Highness?â Utahime repeats, snapping you out of your little reverie.
âOh- forgive me.â You nod at her in acknowledgment. âWhat I meant to say was, I just fail to understand what heâs thinking.â
She nods back - you didnât have to specify who. âIt is precisely as I have told you, Your Highness.â Utahime tightens a few more knots- knocks a few more breaths out of you. âThat olâ nuisance has not a single thought in his mind. You must not worry yourself too much about him.â
âOh, but UtahimeâŠhow can I not?â Youâre sure the flurry of other attendants surrounding you were listening in - smoothing down your layers, preparing your jewelry. But you didnât care at the moment, if you did say so yourself.Â
âI believe it is just a little ailment, Your Highness. I fear I am not blessed enough for such a thing to prove fatal to that jester-â
You gulp. âI believe Satoru may be avoiding me.â
At that, even Utahimeâs brows furrow. âPardon?â
âHis chambers have been emptied of even the flower crowns, and I havenât even the faintest glimpse of him these past few days.â Speaking these words aloud seems to make them too real. âI believe I told you of how he overheard the conversation between Naoya and I?â
Utahime nods.
âNaoya had uttered some things- balderdash, if you ask meââ Your fists threaten to clench, but two attendants were working on your nails. Another was double-checking the measurements for your mask. Mask. âYet I fear Satoru may have misconstrued some thingsâŠand I havenât laid eyes on him ever since.â
Thereâs a silence.
Her fingers finish their final knot.
And then Utahime stands to look you squarely in the eyes. âThis is Gojo Satoru we speak of, is it not?â
Slowly, unsure of where this was going, you nod.
âThen you have naught to worry about, Your Highness.â She flashes you such a beautiful smile, looking over your corset for imperfections - of course, there were none. âIt is most likely that heâs skulking about these palace walls, looking for a minister to scare or a prince to embarrass.â
Youâre letting out a soft huff of laughter.
âOr evenâŠa princess to adore.â
Your eyes widen- and youâre snapping your gaze to hers. Thereâs a knowing expression that Utahime wears - one she often gets whenever she notices Gojo hiding in your room, or watches the two of you sneak out during royal balls.Â
This one, in particular, was about to be the most crowded and convoluted yet.Â
And youâre meeting her smile, eventually. âI thank you, UtahimeâŠâ You then look down as you hear the doors of the dressing room fly open, âBut adoration cannot stop a royal engagement.â
Three sharp claps sound as the tailor gets the attention of your attendants.Â
âThat will be all, ladies. Thank you.â And his own attendants and apprentices flood the room to take over the fitting stageâUtahime squeezes your shoulder as she leaves.
Though she doesnât reach her bed chambers for a much-needed rest, as she might have wanted to. Instead, sheâs halting right outside the entrance-
âYou.â
And making sure you were occupied by the tailoring, Gojo bows dramatically. Holding his little bells so they donât jingle- âAt your service, Madam Sour-face.â
âCease it.â
âNo, I said Sour-face-â
âForget it.â Utahime could feel a migraine coming on already at the mere sight of his impish grin.Â
âSour-face Utahime with her pressure so high, one more joke and sheâll make me cry~â
Why - oh why - couldnât the universe take as kindly to her and forbid her from seeing this man, too? She continues, âFirst, enlighten me as to why youâve been giving Her Highness the cut?â
A too-innocent expression crosses his face. âPardon? I fear I have no recollection of ever-â
âI will kill you with my bare hands and feel no ounce of guilt.â
Gojo clicks his jaw shut.
âIâŠâ And itâs under the pressure of her unwavering glare that he finally cracks- letting out a deep sigh and dropping his head. âI plan to leave the palace.â
âPardon?â Even she sounds utterly shocked. âWhen-â
âTonight.â Gojo has never sounded more serious to her. âI have spent the past few days gathering my possessions, everythingâŠshe gifted me. As the ball starts tonight, I shall take my leave.â
âBut your duties-â
âI have informed His Majesty of my decision. It seems though he shall miss the rhymes, he is keen for an amicable marriage between Her Highness and Prince Naoya. A jester can be replaced, trust in a marriage cannotâespecially not one of political nature.â Utahime is almost shocked at this simple foresight, but then again- everyone always did underestimate the fool.
She watches his reaction, âAndâŠthe Princess?â
Which seems to make him flinch - as though struck. Perhaps a part of him was. ââŠI shall leave her a letter before I depart. Her Highness does not deserve to see such cowardice-â
âAnd yet you still remain.â Utahimeâs words make his blue eyes snap to hers. She crosses her arms in front of her, and lets a smug smile take over her lips. âFor what reason were you spying outside Her Highnessâs fitting, if not to see her?â
âIââ He takes a desperate step closer. âIt was simply in passing-â
âFor what reason did you empty your bedroom of the flower crowns Her Highness made especially for you? Surely they shanât prove themselves too useful on the road?â
Gojoâs eyes widened. âIâŠthe memories-â
âFor what reason have you waited until the last minute to leave? Until the last minute she shall not be yours, and yours only?â
He snarls, âShe was never mine.â
âBecause you believe the Princess does not deserve to base herself- being the lover of a fool yes?â When Gojo does not answer, she continues. âThe fool seems to believe he knows what the Princess deserves. But does the fool know what he deserves?â
Thereâs a prolonged silenceâof which is only punctured by the awed gasps from inside the dressing room, as the tailor and his apprentices comment on your beauty.
Gojo has the sudden, mad thought to open those doors just a little wider and see you for himself. Just one last time.
One last time.
What was he thinking?
He laughs to himself bitterly, âA jester can never be anything to a princess. Never.âÂ
âBut a princess can be everything to a jester, yes?â Utahime asks. âMore importantly- who are we to dictate what a person is to another person?â
The answer was as obvious as it was painful.
Gojo Satoru loved you.Â
Loves you.
Something of it must show on his face, because Utahime throws him a pitiful look sheâs never shared beforeââYou may leave if you please, I shanât stop you.â And then she reaches out and presses a hand against the doors- they part, unlocked. âBut if you wish to stay and stop acting a-foolâŠthen follow me.â
She brushes past him.
Meanwhile Gojo looks inside and catches a glimpse of you - and heâs never seen anything more beautiful.Â
He runs after Utahime, bells jingling.
.
.
.
âYou lookâŠâ
âHow odd.â
âHow startling.â
âWhat a change!â
Utahime crinkles her nose, âThe only thing this proves is that your face is more tolerable when it is covered.â She turns to the brown-haired woman next to her, âAnd that my Shoko is a goddess when it comes to handiwork.â
Shoko smiles sweetly, âI have much practice making death masks.â
âIâll say.â
As the other few attendants pendulate between laughing to themselves, and admiring Shokoâs quick work - sheâd been requested just a few hours before to make a mask befitting a royal ball, and sheâd finished it just in time - Gojo leans closer to the mirror.Â
He reaches his trembling fingers up to touch his face, âThis is surelyâŠme?â
âUnfortunately.â Utahime sighs, and she gets elbowed by Miwa.
Utahime had gathered the most trust-worthy attendants she led: Miwa, Momo, and Kugisaki from tailoring. Along with the impeccable royal healer, Shoko, who she knew would be the only one that would be able to create a mask for the ball with her expert hands. And theyâd gotten to work fixing up perhaps their most difficult case yetânone other than Gojo Satoru.
The royal jester was rather fussy at first- insisting that the powder puffs and cloth wipes tickled.Â
Before Utahime put her foot down and announced that they werenât going to present a âhalf-assedâ (forgive her language) marriage-wrecker to the Princess just yet.
That reminder of you kept him quiet for the rest of the make-over.
And Kugisaki had even commented, âPerhaps we ought to invoke the Princessâs name every time we need to keep the jester in line?â
âDo not tempt me.â Utahime had replied.Â
Gojo had shuddered.
But it really was true: he sat through the rest of the next hour or two without so much as a single rhyme or peep.Â
Not even when they told him to âpucker upâ in order to douse him in rouges and lip stains. That likely saved five years from Utahimeâs lifeâŠ
Gojo himself helped them scrub off his stark-white jesterâs make-up. The vampiric base. The teardrops of black paint. The red, red lipsâa few of his little troupe openly stared as theyâd never seen the Princessâs jester without his make-up.Â
And Gojo himself knew that he wasnât all that bad looking - he had noble features. A strong nose. A high set of cheekbones. A pert, pretty mouth that always looked to be on the verge of saying something he shouldnât.
Or, at least, that was how you described him.
You were the only person that got to see Gojo without his court-deemed make-up; and you always did say he was handsome. To which heâd always bat his long, white lashes dramatically and compose you a sappy sonnet about your eyes. He supposes he knew he was decent, butâŠhandsome?Â
He never saw it.
But these girls seemed determined to make him.
Cloudy hair. Delicate features. Blue eyes like a painting.
They replaced his make-up with something simpler. Gone was the cast of white, instead replaced by just a bit of rouge and shimmer. His pale brows were tamed and so was his hair - braided to the side using fragrant rose oils, with a few pieces falling handsomely over his face. All thanks to Momo, of course.Â
Kugisaki had dug up something from that olâ tailorâs trunkâa snow-white cloak and doublet, along with the associated tights he often made fun of. It was a suit fit for a prince.Â
And it was exactly the type of suit heâd made fun of a prince for.
But here he was now - not a single difference between him and them. Or at least physically.
Gojoâs training sessions with Yaga had kept him fit; and he fit the suit perfectly. His broad shoulders were outlined against the clean cut, and his trim waist fit snugly into those damn tightsâeven through the suit, it was obvious he was well-built, in a way those baggy jesterâs outfits never did show. Polished shoes. Silver buttons. Silver belt. Heavy silver chains and pendants that arrived with the robes.Â
He might even have passed for a battle-hardened Prince like thisâŠ
Momo helped him into his equally as white gloves - it seems they were sticking to a theme for him. All the better to help his eyes and his crown stand out.
Oh yesâŠthe girls had somehow bribed Yaga into letting them sneak down to the royal treasure. For just a few minutes.
All the spoils of war and generations of wealthâand theyâd come out with a crown.Â
It was Utahime whoâd dug this one out, deciding that that would make him stand out far more than the usual hats.Â
Made of pure silver; the design itself was rather simple, or so it seemed at first. Only when one looked closerâŠwhen one ventured furtherâŠcould you see that what seemed like a simple band was actually a wreath of silver branches and floral vines twisted into one, with sapphire-studded flowers blooming along it. One more thing had been taken from the treasury - a signet ring with a âGâ.Â
âIt felt proper.â Miwa, who had found the ring, beamed. âNames and titles are lost to time. And though I may not know what the âGâ once stood for, at least for tonight, it can mean âGojoâ, can it not?â
Gojo felt it getting slid onto his left hand, and he stares at the ring with furrowed brows.
He stares and stares.
Heâs never felt more worthy of you.
By the time they had finished, the strings of the orchestra had started playing their opening sequence - the ball was commencing.Â
Utahime turns to the rest of them, âWe have done well.â Then, ultimately, back to grumble at him. ââŠYou have done well.â
And though Gojo could make up a rhyme to rile her up, though Gojo could comment that they could have done better and bask in the ensuing chaos, though he could do his mask and his maskâ
He simply looks at each and every one and smiles. Sincerely. âThank you.â
They smile tenderly back.
The final component of his outfit for your engagement ball was the mask. Though there was no set theme, Shoko had gone above and beyond to craft his in the shape of the upper-half of a snow leopardâs face. The feline gaze. The sharp ears. The faint outline of rosettes against the white mask. It was mastery.Â
Gojo dons it and smiles to himself. He really did feel handsome, as you had always said.
His blue, blue eyes twinkle from behind the mask.
.
.
.
âYou look absolutely riveting, Your Highness.â
âI thank you.â
This was a royal ball that looked gilded. There was no other word to describe itâgilded.Â
Polished floors. A thrumming orchestra. Golden chandeliers had every single candle lit; and they crept halfway down to the ballroom floor as if gifted from the Sun itself. Just for you.Â
And that was in addition to the numerous other decorations that made even the most high-titled of guests gape in awe: the shimmering fountains that looked as if they were sprouting liquid gold, golden-dipped gardenias wreathed around the hallway, and the long table of foods were most lovely. All sorts of sweets and champagnes in honor of the union.
Guests upon guests upon guests being announced as they entered. They were dressed to impress, and there were more aristocrats gathered for this one ball than youâd seen in your entire life, perhaps.Â
Had Gojo been here with you, then you two wouldâve had the most amusing time coming up with stories for each one.Â
There was Sir Gakuganji who held a secret liking for abstract dancing, here was Lord Todo whose son had fallen in love with a thousand-year-old portrait. No one would be spared. The two of you would have tucked yourself into some alcove and watched as the lavishments flew by, and when everyone was appropriately drunk youâd sneak out to the stables or to star-gaze.Â
Your heart clenches.
SatoruâŠ
You attempt to shake your head free of him.
It most certainly was a beautiful ball. And if you imagined that this was one of no particular purpose, then you really could see it.Â
The ball was decorated to match your dress, you see.
Floor-length silk. Gold-threaded bodice.Â
Celestial layers upon layers.
Your uppermost skirts had gold dusting atop it; and they dazzled as you floated across the ballroom.Â
Your attendants had decided that going for a more simple look with the jewelry was appropriate - it would accentuate the simple gold circlet atop your head. A single sapphire embedded into the middle of it.Â
Naoya had sneered at the choice, of course. When doesnât he? But this time, he was particularly offended at the presence of a sapphire rather than the Zenin familyâs signature blood-red rubies.
You refused to make your attendants change it. You donned your cat-like mask with pride.Â
Perhaps thatâs why he seemed keen on ignoring you in favor of a group of other beautiful court ladies in attendanceâthough you honestly couldnât imagine anything different happening had the two of you been married, as well. You sighed inwardly.
Youâre nodding in acknowledgement as Prince Okkotsu Yuta nears with a man beside him.Â
He looked older - about your fatherâs age, if not a few years older. Tall. Toned - in the way of someone that had one been corded with muscle, but had since lost it to age. Bearing an ice-white beard and a row of silver medals proudly lining his chestâhe stands before you in his off-white uniform and bows. It was obvious that the man was rather handsome, drawing eyes from around the ballroom.Â
But what catches your eye the most were his eyes.
Summer-sky blue eyes.
They reminded you ofâ
âMy uncle, Michizane, Your Highness.â Yuta introduces him. âThis is his first time in the palace sinceâŠâ
Your voice drops into something hushed. âI understand.â Turning to the general, youâre half-bowing once more. âI am rejoiced to welcome you into my home, any troubles that we may have had in the past-â
âHave naught to do with the present, Your Highness.â Michizane graciously nods at you. âAnd most certainly have naught to do with the beloved princess.â
You manage a smile.
âAnd if you can excuse my being so impudentâŠit is precisely what I sought this occasion for, Your Highness.â He looks over the bustling crowd, now getting ready to waltz- and seemingly catches the eye of your father. Your father who now looked as though heâd just seen a walking dead man. âI hope to bury the misunderstandings between my family and your father, and understand what happened to my younger brother and his family. It had proved itself to be both a blessing and a curse that I had been on an excursion during those troubled times. And I seek a resolution for the sake of my inner peace, if nothing else.â
Youâre nodding in agreement. âIt is most tragic what happened. For the sake of bordersâŠnothing is worth so much. And I cannot ask for your mercy enough-â
âIt is not something I shall ever be able to forgive. But you are not at fault, dear princess.â Michizane smiles conclusively, but not unkindly.Â
âAnd yet, I have been wracked with guilt ever since.â You ultimately reply.Â
Though you hadnât met Michizane previously, you had learned that the history between your families was a long and bloody one. His family had been of a royal bloodline, of kingdoms now lost and eviscerated into neighboring ones - including yours. And you knew it was partly the fault of your kingdom. And although royal tutors justified and justified away your fatherâs actionsâyou could see past them
âPerhapsâŠâ Michizane is the one to break through your whirlwind of thoughts. He reaches his gloved hand out, a silver signet ring on his middle finger. â-a dance to commence the burying of our animosity?â
âBut of course.â
As the orchestra starts up a lively tune, Michizane whisks you away onto the dance floor. Much to the horror of some of your elderly ministers, of course, who gaped at the mere presence of the man.
And at the fact that your first dance wasnât with the Prince.
But laughter bubbles to your throat as Michizane twirls and swirls youâsways you smoothly around and around the dance floor. He was one of the best dancers youâve ever encountered, and youâre smiling appreciatively at him once the song comes to a close.
From the corner of your vision, you spot the black-and-red-clad Naoya storming his way over to you. And you hurry to beg a second dance when-
A title is announced - louder than all the rest.Â
A prince.
PrinceâŠyou donât hear the name.
But you donât need it.Â
Because youâre looking up at the grand staircase from which guests made their entrance, hand-in-hand with their partners or followed by their entourages. This one had neither. This one was one of the most beautiful men you think youâve ever seen.
He looked like something from a story.
Snow-white mask. Snow-white suit. He was tall and clearly toned - but there was something in his demeanor that made him seem almostâŠdainty. He gripped the balustrade of the landing and looked over the glistening ball- barely even breathing, it seemed like. And he looked content to remain there in awe, before the chief butler reading out the named coughs- pointedly.
The man startles.
He looks over at the chief butler, and then nods jerkily to himself. In self-assurance.
Cautiously, he makes his way down to the ball.
And the closer he gets, the more of his details youâre taking in: like the traces of signature silver on his suit, and the way his fingers trembled ever-so-slightly.Â
He looked just like the princes youâd read about in fairytales - the ones you imagined as a child before you happened to meet a real-life prince.Â
Curls of white could be seen behind that snow leopard mask of his. They contrasted oh-so-beautifully with the blue, blue sapphire atop his crown.
Just like his eyes.
Your breath hitches-
âI believe I may have been monopolizing you, Your Highness.â Michizane whispers as the Prince nears.Â
âPardon?â You look at him- but he merely smiles.
Before you know it, the mysterious guest has neared enough to give the two of you a jerky bow. His tone tremors ever-so-slightly as he asks, âP-permission for the next dance, Your Highness?â
Michizane nods at you reassuringly.Â
âI would be delighted.â You breathe, and then heâs taking your hand in hisâgently. A touch even softer than the fabric of his tender, tender gloves.Â
âI bid you a good evening, Your Highnesses.â Michizane tips his hat, âAnd do take care of the lovely princessâŠâ Before turning to the younger manâŠhis brows furrow the longer he looks-
But a lady-in-waiting taps Michizaneâs arm for a danceâand heâs made to turn away.Â
And youâre left alone.
With him.
Naoya stuck with some other lady-in-waiting as you put your handâŠtentatively on the other manâs right shoulder. He lets out a shaky breath, as if your mere touch was replenishing his soulâand he doesnât move away. Then you let your second hand get grasped - gently - in his own.Â
Backward with your right foot.
Sideways with your left foot.
Backwards.
Sideways.
Backwards.
Sideways.Â
Itâs halfway into the song, pressed closed to his thundering chest, that you finally break the silence. âThe crown suits youâŠSatoru.â
Gojo flinches, âYou discovered-â
âYou did not seriously think you could fool me?â You smile. He mirrors it- albeit sheepishly. âGojo Satoru, how could I possibly be gulled? You have been my dearest friend since I was eight-â
He twirls you in the middle of the ballroom.
And you continue. â-and the one I hold closest to heart.â Looking deep into his blue, blue eyes.
Gojo sighs, âWords cannot describe how beautiful you are, my princess. The least this fool can do is but dress to impress.â
âYou look particularly dashing this evening as well, Satoru. You always do.â Surprise makes his lips partâand youâre leaning in. Though they do not touch, you hear gasps from the onlookers. âYou look like a Prince.â
âAnd you look like my dreams.â
The two of you dance for a second song, and a third, and a fourth. Without letting Naoya gain any entryway between you two - that non-existent space - you two dance the night awayâdizzy with nothing but the proximity.
The realization that you could be soâŠclose as long as no one found out. That you couldnât be closer.
That you could.
That you needed to.
By the time that most of the guests had well and thoroughly indulged themselves in the bubbling champagne and wine, the clock had struck midnightâand you and Gojo disappear into the night once no oneâs looking. Through the small passageway where the two of you had first met, then up a few flights of staircases, breathless and giddy, youâre lucky there were no guards stationed outside your bed chambers as the ball raged on.
And youâre opening the door and falling into the vast bed with him.
Your hands on his lapels. His hands on your waist.
Youâre both letting out synchronized grunts as your back hits the springy mattress, and Gojoâs letting out a scorching breath that fans your face. That sets your skin searing.
âWe ought not toâŠâ You whisper- and then youâre pressing your lips down his neck. Illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the windows.
âI am of the same thought.â He responds, in an equally hushed tone - as if anything louder would shatter this fragile dream. It most certainly must be a dream, yes? This was all youâve ever wanted- and him. âAnd yetââ
And yet, Gojo places a hand on the back of your neck, and guides your mouth to his.Â
He kisses you loooong and deep- and inexperienced. You both are.
Youâre chuckling as you tug his lips open with yours - letting Gojoâs sultry tongue slide inside your wet cavern. He drags his tastebuds inside and moansâ
And after kissing you and kissing you as if starved for eonsâ
Until your lips were buzzing.
Until his hot hips were crushing into yours.
âyou let your fingers fall to his silver buttons. Rapidly undoing them.
âMy princess.â The jester wrenches deep from his chest - guttural and gone. There was a crazed hint in his tone already. âAllow meâŠâ
And before you know it, he guides your hips to rest back on the king-sized mattress. Sapphire eyes boring deeply into yours- Gojo hands you his crown to hold, as he hovers himself down and unravels the first few layers of your gown.Â
His fingers are quick- nimble.
And it takes him far shorter an amount of time to rid you down to your undergarments than it takes your careful attendants. Desperate. Depraved. Soon enough, youâre feeling goosebumps prickle across your skin at the bite of cold midnight air; your chemise and undergarments were much too thin.
And soaked.Â
Utterly, utterly soaked.Â
But Gojoâs face flushes - almost hard enough to warm your skin through sheer proximity. He admires your sopping cunt through your panties, he leans down and presses his nose right where your clit would be. And then he sniffsâ
âFuck.â
He almost jolts. Reaching in and tearing through your undergarments with his teeth.Â
âFuh-fuck.â
The noise that expels from him is almost unbidden- and its primal tone is enough to make your toes curl. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, he stares at your swollen folds. He stares at your glossy slit.Â
He stares and stares as slick beads out of you in a pretty streamâand before Gojoâs own mind seems to register, heâs muffling a hot moan between your naked legs. Immediately shoving himself nose-deep.
His chin thwacks! the top of your sopping slit, and his tongue wastes no time darting inwards.Â
Your entrance is so wet that he has no trouble easinâ his thick muscle inside- despite its impressive girth. And then immediately zig-zagging his sensual inches fucking inâaaaaaaall along your walls and driving the curvaceous tip of his tongue into every little ridge and cranny. Fat. Trembling with need.Â
âYes, my princess.â Gojoâs managing between husky breaths- each scorched out against where you were most sensitive. âYes, my princess-â
âS-Satoruââ Your handâs reaching down to twist your fingers into his snow-white locks.Â
Youâre giving him a particularly hard pull and he groans-
âMy princessâŠâ That ocean gaze of his is half-lidded and hypnotized, flickering right up to bore into your eyes as he gluttonously propels his tongue even deeper. âI cannot live if I do not make you mine.â
Your feet plant on either side of his shoulders- a steadfast pedestal. For you to buck your hips and shove your drivelling cunt against his mouth, âThen what deters you, jester?â
Gojoâs chuckle is dark and deepened with lust. âNothing, Your Highness.â
Heâs moving his tongue in and out of your hole at such a frenzy.Â
This was the night of your royal engagement, and youâre here getting eaten out by your jesterâ
âDoes it vex you that this lowborn jester has finally gotten his hands on the princessâs pretty pussy?â He gurgles out into your arching core, the wads of your sap slipping between his lipsâand then back out as he licks. âPerhaps not youâŠbut surely those godforsaken ministers that must have hoped for a moreâŠroyal touchâŠ.â
And licks and licks and licksââY-you keep running that mouth, Sato-â
âJester, remember?â He grins. âPray tell, Your Highness, am I the first?â
He must know the answer. He surely must- heâs been at your side for the past eighteen yearsâŠand you yourself were aware that you were his first, too.Â
Yet you find your lips moving before your mind does. And you whimper, âY-yesâŠâ
âPardon, my princess?â
âYes-â
Gojo drags the doughy patches of his fingertips across your clit.
âThen you grant this lowly fool the deepest and most precious honor.â
It was an honor.Â
An honor to eat your pretty coreâto press his puckered lips against your folds in such a sensual kiss- one that would make even the most scandalous of court ladies faint. To part those tender pussylips and dive his tongue inside- every single inch that thrusts away at a vigorous pace. Stuffing you from the hilt of his tastebuds, to that flexible tip that swirled to nâ fro-Â
Gojo had his face pressed up so closely - so deeeeep - that parts of his features were rubbinâ red. Covered in slick. Dripping with it.Â
And yet he was only scouring deeper- deeper- fucking deeper until your pelvis was crushed against his hungry maw. Crushed. âAnd this fool is grateful- so very, utterly grateful.â His tastebuds were going in nearly till those sweetened soft spots you loved so much in those solitary moments in the privacy of your baths, yet he flares his tongue till heâs stretchinâ you out even more. âI shall do anything for you, my princess- anythingâI live to serve you-â
Gojoâs honed canines nip at your clit.
âAnd this pussy.â
And serving you, he is.Â
With every fibre of his being. With every part of him that could reach youâheâs eating you out like such an animal, as if he was going fucking frenzied on your cunt.Â
The tip of his nose massaging your clit. That left hand of his fastening to your waist and dragging you right back nâ forth even deeper.Â
âAnd th-this fool deserves not such a privilege-â He whispers, mostly to himself. Though his wide, lust-glazed eyes maintain contact with yours, âThis fool deserves nothing. And yetâŠyet, I care not if they happened to enter this chamber right now- I would gladly get thrown in the gallows for this greed, for a second taste.âÂ
Wide-eyed - almost crazed - he tugs his wet tongue uuuuup the middle of your slit, and almost up to your navel. âIn fact, I beg of it.â
And his other handâŠ
Oh, Gojoâs other set of fingers smear the puddle of slick that spreads from your core- all along your inner thighs and making its way down your calves. He collects it all.
Every single drop.
And then, like the most precious of mead, he brings those wettened fingertips up to his mouth and sucks. Savors. Gojoâs eyes flutter closed and his Adamâs apple bobs with ecstasy - âShe tastes like she yearns for more.âÂ
âI speak seven languages, Your Highness.â Gojo replies, âOne of which is pussyââ Then with his flattened tongue, he laps up the rest of the satiny ribbons escaping you- before flicking his eyes to the mountain of pillows piled behind you. âMy princess, might I request that you procure a little treasure I have left underneath your favorite pillow?â
âA little treasureâŠ?â Almost dazed, you reach underneath and your fist closes around something soft and bell-decorated. One of his jesterâs hats.Â
âA long, long night beside the princess left this poor fool forgettingâthe hat bestowed upon me by the princess, I should be getting~â Gojo trills- whilst he still lavishes his heated, horny lips across your swollen cunt. âBut if the princess puts it upon my head, she can be as pushy- as she wishes as I eat this royal pussy~â
Your jester is speaking rhymes between your legs?
âOh, sometimes your mouth is overworked.â Youâre harrumphing at the overjoyed jester - once youâre unceremoniously dumping the cap nâ bell onto Gojoâs head.
Grinning, he bites down on the expensive tip of his right glove and tugs it off.Â
He makes quick work fastening that behind his ears, before nudging your hands to grasp onto the floppy âearsâ on top. Your sole source of balance as he leans in and eases one of his long fingers inside- then twoâthen teasinâ a third.
As he shovels in oblong inches into your sopping cunt, pushinâ apart your tender folds and letting his padded tips find their way inside. And inside.
In and out.
âPlease-â You breathe heavily as he quickens the pace after a few squelching thrusts. His middle finger was the longest, and it was spreading you apart the deepestâfuck, it was just so soft inside. So welcoming. So tight that you were clenchinâ around him almost hard enough to make his poor digits snap- and the mere thought makes Gojo hard enough in his trousers that he wants to cream them right away-
Youâre clamoring onto your elbows suddenly, âY-you cannot be serious, SatoruâŠâ
Oh, had he said that out loud? It seems heâd said that out loud. And yet, without even a hint of regret in his grin- Gojo hums. âA jester shanât ever lie to his princess.â Those kiss-bitten lips of his purse with a wad of spittle that lands gently between your pussylips, âOr his pussy.â
âYour pussy?â You ask- before the breathâs suddenly knocked out of you as he starts driving a third finger in this time. Properly.
Stretching you out to the maaaaaximum.Â
The globular ends of his fingers edging in, in, inâhe doesnât just remain pistoning them vertically. Gojoâs rude in the sense that heâs hooking them right below where you needed him the most.
Throbbing, thumping; your g-spot was most certainly aching for him.
But that was exactly the problem- and Gojoâs smile grows wicked as he keeps thrusting his three fingers into your cunt. âJ-just the slightest bitâŠfuck, to the left, jester.â
âIf the princess may still utter a sentence, then this poor jester must go harder on her entrance~â He croons. Swabbinâ into every good spot except for that one - your favorite - he suckles on your sensitive nub. âWhat deters you from claiming what you seek, hm? Use me, Your Highness.â
Your teary eyes snap open. When had you even closed them? âUse?â
âUse me.â Less of a demand- more of a live-saving plea. Gojo was so far gone by this point that his hardened hips were ruttinâ against the luxurious mattress with every swipe of his tongue, âClaim what you wish. Use me- use meââ
And as he wishes, youâre lightly tugging on the points of his jester hat to keep him pressed against you-
But that wasnât enough for him.
âI beg of youâthis lowly fool begsâŠâ As his right hand shapes out the tight, tight channel of your cunt - Gojo reaches his other hand up to grasp your own- to make you clutch his cap nâ bells even tighter. Hard enough for his fingernails to leave marks- and he needs you to be just as rough. âFucking use me like the princess you are. The princess that saved me.âÂ
He ruts even more suddenly- he must be painfully hard now.Â
âClaim my lips. Claim my tongue- claim every fibre of my being to be used by youâŠâ A low snarl snatches from the back of his throat. â-just claim me as yours, as I have claimed you, my princess.â
And then youâre knocking that stupid little hat off his head- and fisting your hands in his hair once more to crush Gojoâs pretty, pink lips against your cunt. Arching off the mattress, you were just bucking and bucking your treacly pussy all over his face.
Stringing yourself through the shockwaves of pleasure that kept pouring up your legs - like warm water. Gojo was just salivating in-between them.
He doesnât even have the time to breatheâand youâre getting the distinct feeling that he didnât want to. Couldnât even make himself think of anything else but dragging four - now four - fingers between those swollen-shut lips and thud-thud-thudding into your g-spot. âGood princess.â He hisses between clenched teeth, âGooooood princess-â
âKeep quiet, jester.â Youâre feeling yourself get slowly overcome by primal desperation.Â
âAs you wish, mistress~â And Gojoâs never been happier- lashing and lashing those ridged tastebuds inside until your walls buzzed with the texture. âMmmm.â
And soon enough, youâre feeling your legs start to twitch- in the way they did whenever you had your fingers stuffed deep in the baths- âOh.â By this point, Gojo was aiming to intrude four fingers and his slippery tongue between your pussylips.Â
Swirlinâ and swirlinâ itâtap-tap-tapping it over that first tight ring of muscle.Â
His greed sickened you- and made you even wetter. And with a forceful tug of those angelic strands of his, youâre staring deep into Gojoâs eyes - fluttering desperately as he fights not to detach himself with your wet pussy. He doesnât.
And heâs accelerating his fingers hitting the bullseyeâ
âI-I feel I shanât last very long, Sato- jester.â Youâre hissing, eyes threatening to shut as the white-hot pleasure keeps wracking through you.
With his spit-glossed lips wrapped around your clit, he hums. âMmm?â
âOh.â You hunch into him. âRepeat that.â
âMmmmmââ Gojo elongates his nearly-feline rumbles, and then his lips quirk up- into a grin you recognize as being a signature of when he gets a devious idea.Â
One sure to ruin courts and leave you amused - though youâre sure that youâre the sole one being ruined right now.Â
Heâs nuzzling his face ever-deeper against your cunt, then muffles out an entire sentence - what you assume to be a rhyme - whilst he keeps his mouth sucklinâ on your clit. Making the sensitive bursts of pleasure explode twofold behind your eyes- youâre seeing stars as he repeats itâagain, and again, and again and again and againâ
Gojo often did love repeating a joke if it managed to make you laugh exceptionally hard.
However, now you were all but crying out for mercy. Your chin trembles as you keen out Gojoâs name in a lingering echo, âI-I really shanât- ohâŠâ No matter how many years of royal diction or elocution youâve endured, it couldnât mask the way your voice cracks on the tail end of your sentence.Â
Almost pathetically so.
And soon enough, Gojoâs finding his witty mouth stuffed full- fucking you through your high.
Tongue flicking in and out. Teeth grazing over your clit.Â
He alternates between letting his tastebuds enter your pussy as wellâand then letting his doughy digit take over as he suckles on your clit. Like the sweetest thing in the world. âMmmm.â Repeating his little rhymes over and over- interrupted only by the noisy slurps! of him sucking on your nub- and the embarrassing little whimpers as he was wrenched by you.
Side-to-side. Up and down.
Youâre moving him wheeeeeerever you wanted- and he was in heaven as pain sears from his scalp.
You grip onto his braid, and another lock of his hair, as handlebars to prolong your wave of pleasure. The bliss stabs through you white-hot as he presses deeeep into your g-spot. âI havenât felt anything like this- hah, before, SatoruâŠâ
âYour jester aims to please.â
Your orgasm makes you shiver. It rattles past your walls - where the pounding was most prevalent - and then up your spine to make your head pound with pleasureâthe curling of your toes, the fluttering of your lashes, the way youâre letting escape the sweetest soft moans; sweeter than any orchestra downstairs. Gojo memorizes it all.Â
Through peak after peak.
Through thrust after thrust.
And as the crescendo comes to a close, he parts with your pussyâa pointed squelch! emanates from the connection. âThough the back of this Princessâs pussy I did knock, Her Royal Highness still yearns for the jesterâs cock~â
Your mouth gapes, âDo not tell me that was the rhyme you have been repeating this entire time?â
âAs you wish, I shanât.â He grins. And then Gojoâs raising himself to his haunches- shrugging off his cloaks and his coats. âPerhaps another? From all the princes and lords to pick, our beloved Princess yearned for the jesterâs di-â
âAnother word and you shall be turned out.â You warn him, albeit half-heartedly.
âNow that doesnât rhyme, Your Highness.â Gojo faux-pouts. With a few more tugs and pulls - he really didnât understand how you aristocrats wore this on every occasion - heâs ridding himself of his upper garments and his trousers.Â
Though youâve seen the royal jester shirtless time and time again, his perfectly-toned body made your eyes bulge.Â
And then finally the linen undergarments that presented himâGojo Satoruâs long cock, hot and rock-hard.
He was engorged till he looked fit to burst - with his mushroom-curved tip blushinâ an angry red, and his veins popping out down his shaft. So prominent that you could almost count every throb-throb-throb!
Gojoâs tip glistens wetly with precum, capping the top of his cock and just oozing like a lacquer down every inch. Almost eight inches, if youâre mentally counting correctly.Â
He wraps a single hand around his thickened base- rustling the soft curls decorating his pelvis. Spreading out in an alluring patternâGojo then uses his other hand to nudge your thighs apart. Hamstrings stretching. Toes curling. Making sure theyâre pinned to the springy mattress before he inches his red-hot cock closer.Â
Thereâs a resounding squeeeeelch! as he smears the very first, readied inch down your opening crevice.Â
âEasy there, Your Highness.â Gojoâs breath hatches with a moan. âEasy- hahâŠâ
âI am no steed, Satoru.â
âYou speak the truth, my princess.â He shoots you a ravishing smile- hungry. He really did look ready to eat you. Ready to shovel his entire length in.
Ready to breakâhimself. Fuck.
He was breaking himself.Â
A mere few inches are entering past that first ring of muscle-
And youâre arching your back into his chiselled chest. âOh h-heavensâŠâ It leaves you and mixes with the broken grunts nâ gruffs that were leaving Gojo just as equally, just as desperately, as he keeps your hips pushed into the bed and siiiiinks his cylindrical length inside.Â
Itâs like nothing your royal tutors had lectured you upon - down to the fact that all those awkward anatomical lessons were for your wedding night with a prince, no less.Â
You feel a pearl of red escape youâand you embrace him with weakened limbs. âSatoru-â
âH-heaven is correct.â Gojo hiccups out. Was he still stuck on that youâd uttered earlier- had he even heard anything more? And were thereâŠtears twinkling at the edges of his lashes?Â
Before you can finalize an answer, youâre mewling at the slight resistance of your cunt. Gojoâs cock was oh-so-girthyâmore than you might have expected, and seemed to be throbbing even bigger with every second he was mazinâ himself inside you.
And he feels the shift immediately- heâs affected by it immediately.
His handsome jaw grits. His chest caves with a sudden groan. He turns his half-lidded eyes downwards, and using both overlarge hands he grips each of your asscheeks.Â
Those pretty, princely features of his twist into something agonized- as Gojo arches his sculptured back and drives his cock inside. âPlease-â Your best friend pants out. âPlease, please, please, pleaseâh-havenât I served you well, Your Highness?â
âYou would be correctâŠ?â Youâre answering him- head foggy because of the sudden flurry of semi-thrusts.
In and out. In and out. He was buried just a few inches past his sensitive slit - and the small tremors of your cunt meant that he was thrown to ecstacy every few split-seconds.Â
Gojo seemed to be growing longer than you remembered seeing him.
Gojo seemed to be pulsing even thicker-
âTh-thenâŠshanât this lowly fool be rewarded with a single inchâŠ?â He mumbles- sounding utterly drunk. And it wasnât just his slurring tone and his tapering sentences that gave you that impression - but Gojo had his face pressed into the crook of your neck, and his hot tongue gliiiiiding up your sweaty neck. âA mere inch, my princess-â
You buck- and even that seemed far too much for the pussydrunken jester.
For heâs digging his crescent-shaped nails into your soft flesh and dragging you back into him - hitting his hips with a resounding thwack! âNo- no, please donât leave, Your Highness.â He begsâfucking begs.Â
âI-I am notâoh.â Another blustering thrust that leaves your deepest innards probed.
âIf you wish me to cease- then just say the word. And I shall heed every syllable.â Gojo murmurs, his sapphire eyes threatening to shut with the hypnotic squeeze. With his pure need. With the urge to feel himself from the outside- and considering how big he was, heâs sure heâd manage to. âBut please- please, do not leave me. Th-this pussy has been my deepest, darkest desire ever for f-far too long.â
Your eyes widen, âHow longâŠexactly?â
Those plump, rose-pink lips of his graze yours as soft as a feather. âEver since I knew what it wasâŠand I woke up with quite the ah- rock-hard situation. I had never left your chamber faster, Your Highness- what if the attendants witnessed it?â
You moan as one of his hands lifts off your ass to thumb aside your sultry pussylips. Lovingly full.
âWhat if they were aware how feverishly I desired you?â
They were just glued with sap- it makes him break off a moan.
âWhat if- hngh, what if they could see through meâa lowborn mutt- eager to dirty the precious princess?â
Gojo stares so long and lovingly at your slightly-ajar cuntâso lovingly, that his mouth ends up watering. He continues, âTo dirty youâŠto corrupt you.â A stream of spittle leaks from the corner of his lips, and it ends up dapplinâ over your folds.Â
âTo- hah, fuck you.â
Your jester roves his hips closer - smearing the translucent liquid using his hips. Aaaaaaall over as he nudges and nudges his rounded, reddened tip deeper inside - taking over your cunt little by little.Â
Stars flash behind your eyelids, and in that opportunity, Gojo had reached over to take the crown that heâd donned for the ball. Your engagement ball. And he was promptly caressing the top of your scalp with it, placing it atop your beautiful headâyou suited his colors.Â
Gojo lets out something that sounded more like a prayer: âTo fuck you with the crown on, has always been this foolâs most embarrassing wish.â
Heâs finally bottoming out.
Finally. And itâs a sensation like none other.Â
Gojoâs cock was stretching you out in ways youâve never felt before; managing to mold your channel to his measurements. And his hammers were just so sensualâslow, semi-thrusts so that he can fit himself inside. âPlease-â Inside and inside. âPlease, please- this lowly jester knows every secret and preference of yours, my princess.â
Your heels are digging into the gorgeous dimples at the base of his spine. âYes, ohâŠâ
âEvery- single- inchââ And youâre being propelled in short jerks upwards- those ancient royal bedsprings protesting. As much as you were begging for more. Your hands drag down his creamy-white back, leaving bloodied marks- and that only leaves him pulsating even harder inside you. Gojoâs blossomed tip had contentedly filled you up till your cervix - âIn ways those ministers would- hah, wring my neck over.â
âI would never let them.â Youâre spitting out.
âAnd yetâŠâ Gojo leans down to whisper. âThat only made this fool yearn for it- more-â A few more pressurized thrusts, and every prominent vein of his massages your spots oh-so-perfectly. As he pushes nâ pushes he continues babbling, âPlease let it fit inside-â His lips tremble with a whimper. âPlease let it fit insideââ
Shock strangles your words, âS-Satoru, youâre already inside.â
âP-pardon?â He almost stutters his hips - before he likely realized that your syrupy-sweet cunt was far too heavenly for him to merely linger. And heâs thrusting away like an animal.Â
Nodding, âSatoru, I promiseââ Eyes scrunching together at the incredible sensations of him stretchinâ you out, hitting into your every nook, letting his velvety tip glide across your tenderest area - that g-spot. âYouâve succeeded your fantasy.â Your legs tighten around his slender waist, âPromise.â
Gojoâs chin hits his chest.
And heâs staring down at where the two of you glossily connectââO-ohâŠâ Gojoâs mouth looked so delicious like this - you almost wanted to bite him - as an expression of cute surprise takes over him.
And all of a sudden, itâs as if heâs simply meltingâŠ
Into your arms. Into your cunt. Gojoâs honey-dipped tip probes into your cervix, and instead of even ramming away - heâs merely draaaaagging and swirlinâ the bulbous edge of him around. Again and agaaaaain. The texture of his flared ridge was something incredible, and it knocks nâ grinds against hidden spots of nerves. âI finally have you, Your Highness.â
Youâre feeling your heart pound at his confession - oh-so-tender. Even when he was fucking you deep into the plush mattress.
âYou have never not, my jester.â Youâre admitting back up at him.
The most beautiful smile graces his face- and Gojoâs feeling quite unfairly about all this. So heâs slitherinâ his right hand between your legs and spankinâ your neglected clit.
Those slight brushes of his bushy happy trail werenât enoughânow he was twiddling and turning such dizzying patterns atop that sweet, sweet nub. Watching your every minute expression, he hums. âBeautiful through anger, happiness and shock, yet the Princess looks prettiest on my cock~â
âYou fiend.â Youâre swatting his chest.
Only for him to gather up those weak legs of yours and bend you into a mating press- a mating press. Muscular thighs against your thighs. Your knees against your tits.
Gojo keeps his forehead pressed against yours as he drills away, âThough this lowly fool may be poor with the manners of a pig, arenât you happy to have a cock thatâs actually big~?â
And thatâŠyou have to admit that that one actually draws a laugh out of you.
And just as soon as the bubbling noise emerges from your lips-Â
Gojoâs body seems to collapse. His hips seem to falter. His cock thunks at the back of your womb, sending your teeth chattering, and lets out a throb-throb so hard that you feel it louder than your own heartbeat.
Your eyes shoot open, âS-SatoruâŠ?â
âI-I am quite alright, Your Highness. Naught to worry about.â Though there was something thoughtful behind his eyes, âIt is simplyâŠâ
And only after a few more thrustsâafter a few more rub-a-dubs of his thumbâŠfingers now so jittery on your cunt that heâs teasinâ you with his silver signet ring, too.
The smooth metal makes you keen-
âFor all the horses and all the men, could not pull the fool out of his princess again.â He near-tentatively utters. It could be heard only slightly above the smacking of skin-on-skin, of his hips practically plastered onto yours, and you canât help it - youâre startled into a laugh.
âP-pardon?â You speak through both moan nâ giggles.Â
âOhâŠâ Meanwhile, Gojo was absolutely shattering. He was drooling. He wasâfuck, he was tearing up. And great globules of tears were hitting the edge of your shoulder.
Gojoâs rubbinâ himself raw- heâs wracking his brain a mile a minute just for a new verse to come up with.Â
Something that will make you laugh.
Something that will make you squeeze your tremoring thighs âround him.Â
Something that will make you clenchâand itâs such a startling, tight sensation that damn-near sends him hurtling straight into his high. But he canât cum before you - of course, he canât. What good jester possibly ever could? Before his princess no less?
Gojo accelerates his hips until tears start clinging onto his long lashes, and his cocktip starts twitchinâ out of pure oversensitivity.
And so he keeps on repeatingârhyme after rhyme, botched whimper after whimper. Each one more ragged than the last. Your jester was making you whine with laughter as he fucked you- whispering in your ear in aaaaaall the dirty ways one perhaps shouldnât to a princess.
He fucks you like an animal.Â
Itâs the final note youâre hearing - ââno prettier princess than thee.â - as your sudden high takes you by surprise. Legs shaking. Back arching. Youâre squeezing him tighter than ever as the white-hot pleasure courses through you.
Thrumming your every vessel and vein.
Thrusted deeper into you with every one of his- they seem to burst pretty fireworks inside your now-emptied head. Nothing but lust inside it.
And it doesnât take much for Gojo to topple into his orgasm, as well. He shakes- he stuttersâŠâC-cummingâŠâ Breathlessly. Large tears were puddlinâ at the crook of your neck, dampening your skin more than your perspiration. âAnd I cannot think of a more appropriate home.â
âShould you sire an heir, they shall have your head.â Youâre whispering to him - a smile on your face.
âBut you forevermore have my heart.â
âRake.â
âFor you only, my princess.â
That bawling divot atop his shaft keeps floodinâ out a constant stream of cumâhot-white and lacquering your insides. Every single burst of cum made him twitch- letting out the prettiest erotic whines. âMy princessâsolely for you.âÂ
âMore.â You murmur gutturally. âMore- more.â
âMoreâŠdeep inside.â Lovingly, heâs patting at your bloated pussy. âJust for my princess.â
Until your walls were almost heavy with the condensation of his sap, and after only a few thrusts of his shaft- it was pouring out of you almost like a waterfall.Â
Between the crevice of your puffy pussylips, you feel it drip-drip-dripping out of you. Eventually formulating a little froth of creamy white âround Gojoâs swollen base - a few globules that heâs smearing with a thumb and pushing right back into you. A thumb stuck right between your folds. âA-and where do you believe you are putting your hands, Satoru?â
âSimply giving my princess everything she deservesâŠâ He leans down to nibble on your soft ear lobe. âAnd right on her engagement night, as well.â
Youâre moaning as he tugs on your clit a few more times.
âHappy engagement, Your Highness.â The jester speaks, as he fucks his cum into you harder than ever.Â
You end up babbling for a few minutes longer, before the sudden sparks of your high start bating- and Gojo himself starts finally slowing his hips down.Â
âMmmmâŠâ You reach up and clasp him by the back of his neck, sweaty, with his hair curled at the name. You whisper into his mouth, âMy greatest pleasure, to be engaged to you, Prince Gojo Satoru.â
Thereâs a long stretch of silence - still thrusting - before he mutters.Â
âI really do wish I could marry youâŠâ Summer sky-blue eyes shuttering into the kissâ
âSatoru.â
ââmy princess.â
.
.
.
âZenin Naoya.â
The young man whirls around - and his nose crinkles in distaste as an older man enters the royal guestsâ quarters.Â
No union had been announced.
The engagement ball had long since ended, and you had even long since disappeared with some prince- some jester, as he had discovered through ballroom gossip.Â
The fucking jester.
Naoya knew he should have gutted him after that dinner.
But alas, once he arrived outside your royal bed chambers to finish off the job- heâd been blocked by your personal guards from entering. That damned General Yaga had threatened that a single step closer could constitute an attempt at treason- treason?Â
Accusing him of treason? Did he not know who Naoya was?
General Yaga hadnât budged. And thus, Naoya had no choice left but to retire to his own guestâs quarters.Â
Alone and angry until morning arrived.Â
He had just settled with the thought of enacting his own taste of justice today- he shall lure some of the ministers to your bed chambers, perhaps falsifying an ailment youâd befallen under, before Gojo can escape. And once they discover that that lowborn jester had sullied the Princess- dungeons it is for the fool.
And oh-so-generous Prince Zenin Naoya shall agree to marry even a ruined maiden.Â
Then comes the crown. Then the titles, the land, the power.
The woman shanât be too bothersome, either, at least you were easy on the eyes. Even if the jester had gotten his hands on you first.
And ahâŠperhaps he shall throw out this court and your father along with it? Thatâs if he was in a good mood - and it was the original plan, after allâŠ
Or perhaps he shall stage a coup of which your father had âledâ and enact justice as King- yesâŠa royal hanging should seem righteous enough. The jester shall be first.Â
This was justice.Â
Naoya had just been in the middle of writing a letter to inform his father of this change of plans, when a knock-knock-knock thundered from the door. The broad, bearded man on the other side of it hadnât waited for him to answer before coming inside.Â
âMay IâŠhelp you?â He stands. Had this seemed like any old guard or minister, then Naoya would not have hesitated to draw his sword- but this was clearly someone of high status. Of numerous battle accomplishments.
And his eyes dip down to the silver scabbard at his waistâŠ
This was clearly someone potent.
âI have arrived with a proposition.â The bearded man invites himself to sit down on the very chair that Naoya had been at work at.
Naoyaâs eyes narrow, âOf what kind? Do I look like an errand boy to-â
âOf the kind I am aware your family is quite expert at.â Those words held such a dark weight to themâand he doesnât take his eyes off of the Prince for a single second as he utters. âTo be frank, I must request the ahâŠremoval of Prince Okkotsu Yuta from the throne.â
That makes the royal straighten. âFind yourself a common mercenary-â
THUNKâ!
From underneath his coat, the visitor pulls out a hefty bag - so large that Naoya wonders just how it had remained obscured for this long. There is a weight to it that makes the polished desk rattle, papers flying. There is an overabundance of its contentsâso that the burlap rim threatens to burst open.
Naoya gulps as he eyes the - albeit alluring - bag. âD-do you believe the Kingdom of Zenins to have plummeted so far that we hold the need for a single sack of gold?â
The other man chuckles, âGold?â
And with a single flick at the rimâitâs opening to revealâŠsapphires.
A miniature mountain of it.
Such a rare beauty. Naoya had never seen so many in all the treasuries heâd ransacked combined - and his hand it darting out to grasp itâ
âThis is, of courseâŠmerely the advance.â The man places his hand on top of the bag, and slides it discreetly away from the Prince. His fingers twitch towards it, but Naoya canât do anything with the other man here. âTrust me when I claim that your kingdom will have no shortage of sapphires for the next hundred years. I simply request that you prove your abilities to me.â
That snaps the Prince out of his constant eye-contact with the expensive bag. âProve?â
His now-client nods. âProve it. I should hope that the eradication of Prince Yuta shanât prove too daunting- and for that, I wish to know what otherâŠdeeds you have accomplished, Your Highness.â
âThe burning of the Inumaki kingdomâs crops.â Naoya immediately blurts outâbefore he lists off his familyâs proud accomplishments as though he was listing off a market list. The other man nods with an unreadable expression. âTheâŠdisplacement of the Cursed rubies, the demotion of the Ijichi household, the framing and eradication of the Gojo family-â
âOh?â At that last one, he looks more alert. âKindly elaborate on that final one, it seems to have ahâŠpiqued my interest.â
Naoya hesitates- before a single glance at the sapphire sack makes him talk once more. âIt was prior to my birth, thus the details might not be as adequate. Essentially what happened had to be done- the Gojo royals were advancing their economy in leaps and boundsâfar too rapidly, far too soon.â
As he continues, an almost proud smile twitches at his lips.Â
âIt was ingenious- really.â He hums, âJust a few forged letters, just a single meeting with His Majesty-â Naoya gestures vaguely at this palace. âAnd he became convinced that the Gojos were planning battle over the borders.â
Naoya spits.
âBorders? Pah- what borders?â Heâs pacing now, hands clasped behind his backâback turning to the other man as the Prince stares into the licking fireplace. âCome dawn, the palace was painted in red. Ministers. Mongrels. That King and Queen- the cowards begged for mercy, were you aware?â
Silence stretches.
It seems like an eon passes before the manâs answering - in a rough tone that punctures the silence. âIâŠI was not aware, no.â
Naoya huffs out haughty laughter.
âAnd what of their son?â
The Prince looks at the other man over his shoulder, brows pinched in confusion. âThey had no son.â
âNo.â The sword is pulled out of his scabbard. âThey hid Gojo Satoru well.âÂ
It embeds deeply in the junction between Naoyaâs shoulder and his neckâand his scream is silent. Expression twisted into shock as those final words registered - Gojo Satoru. Even in death, he hears his name.Â
Much louder than Naoyaâs scream was the impact of his cold, dead body hitting the carpeted floor - and almost instantly, Prince Okkotsu Yuta enters the chambers. âI have recorded the confession, uncle, and the troops are storming the Zenin palace as we speak.â
âGood.â Michizane pulls his sword out and watches as blood creates a painting across the brick fireplace and floor. He wipes it off using what would have been Prince Naoyaâs engagement robes, and places it back in his scabbard.Â
Yuta takes a step closer to offer a clean wipe to his uncle, âShould I summon a court meeting at once?â
âNo.â Michizane takes it and dabs at the beads of sweat on his forehead. Then he nods at Yuta to collect the bag of precious sapphires, âI have a far more important affair to attend to.â
.
.
.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKâ!
Both you and Gojo startle awake- and a single glance at the floor-to-ceiling windows reveals sunlight filtering in. A soft breeze rustles the sheer curtainsâŠand Gojoâs beautiful locks right beside you.
It wasnât the first time that you were waking up next to him.
But it was the first time it wasâŠin such a manner.
Youâre tugging on the satin blanket- of which you were wearing nothing underneath. Bare. Barely holding yourself back from him. And Gojo smiles to himself as the thought seems to occur to him, as well, reaching over to kiss youâbefore wincing at the red, red nail marks that twinged with movement.Â
Youâre leaning in as wellâ
But then two things occur to you:
It must have been at least midday.
Someone was at the door.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKâ!
More insistent this time.
The two of you look at each other.
Then at the door.
Then at each other.
Gojo jumps to his feet, throwing off the blankets and attempting to dive underneath your bed- but youâre raising a hand to stop him. Shaking your head imperceptibly. âNoâŠâ
âMy princess?â Gojo asks.
âI believe there comes a time where one must stop running.â Youâre speaking, more to yourself. And in a quick fashion you cross the room to don your satin robeâGojo manages to bunch up a few blankets that cover his bits. You shake your head and scour for one of his casual night garments from underneath your bed - throwing it at his head.
âFor all the princess in the land-â
âOh, perhaps I ought to hand you to the guards.â The guards that were surely outside. Perhaps waiting to accuse you of treason for shattering the Zenin union. Perhaps ready to embarrass you and your jester in front of the royal courts.
Whatever it shall be - whatever the price may be for loving Gojo Satoru - youâre raising your head high and taking it like a ruler.Â
You open the doors, and outside standsâŠ
Michizane?
He looks just as startled as you, though he manages out a rough smile. âMay I see the ring?âÂ
Youâre unsure what he meansâand youâre considering telling your guards to escort him away, when Michizane peers inside your bedroom and locks eyes with Gojo. Gojo who seems to startle the instant that blue, blue gaze meets his. PerhapsâŠ
And then heâs stepping forwards- pushing the door open ever-so-slightly further open.
And presenting his left hand - with the silver signet ring still upon it. A hollowed gasp leaves the older man, and heâs clasping Gojoâs hand in his own trembling, timid onesâholding it as though it was the most prized treasure in this world. Buried for eons.Â
Gojoâs voice sounds scratchy, âI-it is not my possession to don-â
Michizane shakes his head.Â
âI believeâŠâ He looks between the two of you, bright eyes twinkling with tears. â-that there is much we need to speak of.â
.
.
.
There was to be a royal wedding.
There was to be a royal wedding.
There was to be a royal wedding.
The union between yourself and the long-lost prince of the Gojo kingdom.Â
After Michizane had explained to you both - let alone an astounded court - that he was the uncle of your beloved jester, that he was titled royalty, and that Gojo himselfâŠwas the sole survivor of a gruesome attack that the Zenin family had orchestratedâŠGojo didnât believe it. Not at first.
Not that someone knew his life before this life.
Not that someone had come toâŠsave him. Because Michizane didnât - to Gojo, it had been you. And it forevermore shall be.
But you could see the fearful hope - almost unwelcome on his face - as Michizane explained that he hadnât known about the status of the Gojo heir, his nephew, before the engagement ball. He was so young, he must have forced himself to forget such a traumatic ordeal. Thus, it had always been assumed that he had perished along with his brother and his wifeâthough Michizane couldnât find a small body amongst the carnage.Â
And so he had always hopedâŠalways, alwaysâŠ
And it had been the signet ring (looted by the Zenins and gifted to your father, no doubt) that roused his suspicions. Then those eyes. That hair. That smile, like his motherâs.
It had to have been him.
Fearing such an attack, had the late Gojo royals not kept the birth of their son a secret, then his features would have gotten him poisoned before he even stepped foot into the royal court. The cap nâ bells masked more than one would think.Â
The scheme to expose the Zenins had been planned beforehand - being the only reason that Michizane even attended the ball in-person. And heâd thought that perhaps finding his late nephewâs look-alike had been a good omen.
Had beenâŠ
Oh, he just had to confirm it for himself. Especially after Naoya had affirmed that the Zeninâs hadnât been aware of any son.Â
Michizane could see the Gojo name in the boy. And so he was right.Â
Acceptance had taken long hours cooped up in the numerous palace librariesâporing over history books, and rewriting ones that misunderstood.
During this time was when youâd iron-handed your ministers into changing the law that âonly a prince shall marry a princessâ. Of course.Â
Long days and longer conversations.
Gojo had finally accepted that he was the sole righteous heir to the throne of Gojo by the time heâd ascended to the throne. It had occurred during a coronation too grand for words - of which you were the honored guest, of course.
Michizane had accumulated vast sapphire mines during his time away, and the Gojo kingdomâs infrastructure was soon able to recuperate their losses. Though not all of itâŠcertainly some wounds would take time.
But the first time that Gojo stepped through those familiar palace walls, he cried as if it were a dream. And heâd said as muchââI had believed it was a dream- oh, I believed this was all a dream. This is my home.â As he embraced you in the middle of the royal lobby, you could agree with the sentiment. âYou are my home.â
The first portrait that one saw when they entered the palace - moved by Michizane from Gojoâs former chambers to the main hallways - was one of his mother, his father, and Gojo himself.
Just an infant with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile.
He had his fatherâs eyes, but his motherâs smile.Â
After Gojoâs crowning, the borders of the Gojo kingdom were reestablished - all territories and citizens that surrounding kingdoms (as well as yours) had absorbed were handed to their rightful ruler.
His kingdom was newâŠbut building. And fast.
Then Gojo had gotten to work helping right all of the Zeninsâ wrongs. He aided in expanding the Inumakisâ agricultural lands, he returned the Cursed rubies that had been embedded in Naoyaâs coronet to lord Sukuna, he promoted the Ijichi householdâs titles twofold.Â
And he rebuilt his own family.Â
Of course, the Zenins themselves met their rightful fate. Prince Yuta had attacked their palace and numerous fortresses, causing those family members to be impounded. Some fled but were quickly caughtâin part due to General Yagaâs tireless assistance.Â
Gojo had insisted that the children grow up in his palace. And though youâd been befuddled at first - most certainly you wouldnât allow them to be hurtâŠbut as for raising them yourselves over placing them in noble homes - you quickly registered that Gojo simply didnât want history to repeat itself.
Above all, he took in young Fushiguro Megumi as a ward.
The trials for the other family members were currently ongoing.
But, recently, there was a new event that shook your kingdom.Â
The wedding.Â
Not one of political natureâŠbut rather love. No matter the class, position, or power the two of you heldâyou would always be his princess, and he your best friend- oh alrightâŠyour jester. But solely because Gojo still loved to act a-fool to make you laugh.Â
Your father had no choice but to approve your wedding to such a powerful young King. Why would he risk such strong political ties? Why would he risk your abandonment?
Your people throw snow-white petals of gardenia as the wedding carriage passes through the streets- on its way to a honeymoon voyage before setting down in a newly-built palace between his kingdom and yours. Megumi would live there, too, and of course youâd convinced your most-trusted attendantsâUtahime and everyone else that had readied Gojo that night of the engagement ball - to reside there, as well.Â
Not as servers, but with titles. With General Yaga as your head of guards.
You couldnât be happier.Â
Gojo holds your hand. Wedding band on his left ring finger, the Gojo signet on his middle. Â
Faces beamed and cheers soared as you two passed by in your dream-like carriageâupon a cloud. And though the kingdom had been decorated until one nearly couldnât spot a single roof, Gojo only had eyes for you.
Heâs unabashed as he leans down to publicly kiss you.Â
Now that he finally could, the boy that had once been jester.
âSatoru.â
âMy queen.â
A/N. Ugh had just finished watching the animated Sleeping Beauty before I wrote that ending, can you tell??
using you to get close to his target seemed like a good idea - until toji ended up the one with a bullseye on his heart instead
synopsis: you were paid to pick up after Satoru's messes. toji was paid to put a bullet in him. but doing his job is a lot more difficult when the lines between personal and professional get blurred. just how far will he go to get the job done without losing you too?
pairing: hitman!toji x f!reader
wc: 10.6k
content: smut, light angst, YANDERE TOJI, he's a hitman so murder lol, stalking, obsession, jealousy, oblivious reader, falling for each other, he's lowk crazy lol but he is hot!!, mentions of drinking, flirting, he wants us bad, semi-public sex, fingering in a bar bathroom, making out, shower sex, light spanking, pulling out, toji is a problem solver lmfao, comfort
a/n: toji art is by @ackshuallyvalerie !! this was a commission for the lovely @chewiebee
For a pretty penny, he could put a bullet in anyone.
Toji had been doing it long enough now that pulling the trigger didnât bother him. The things that did were dulled with booze, gambling whatever he was given and riding on the high until he crashed and couldnât afford shit anymore.Â
Then he did it all again. And again. And again.
âThis one is-â Shiu started, and the hesitation in his voice irritated the shit out of him. Like he couldnât fucking handle the same job heâd been doing for years.Â
âHow much?â Toji interrupted, bringing a lukewarm beer to his lips, watching some boxing game on the barâs tv. The sound was muted, but it wasnât like anyone would be able to hear it over the rumble of drunken girls giggling and grown men arguing over which athlete was better.Â
Shiu slid over the contract, tapping over the amount being offered.Â
It was more than his past six jobs combined.Â
âIâm in.â Â
Shiu made a weak attempt to try and talk him out of it. Tell him heâd end up in jail at best, or buried six feet under at worst. That the target was high profile.Â
Toji didnât care who it was a death sentence for. It wasnât like there was much worth left in living anyway.Â
Flipping through the file, headshots of some smarmy-looking CEO, the kind of guy who made millions in a day just by existing, probably spending more time spinning around in his office chair than actually doing a shred of the work he was paid for. Blessed from the time he was born to be rich and beautiful, rolling around in dollar bills and women with big tits.Â
Satoru Gojo had never known a single day of struggle. Of suffering.Â
Honestly, heâd probably do the job even if he wasnât being paid for it just to see the look on his face when the gun went off. Watch the life drain from him out and stain his custom-made suit.Â
He spent a few days doing research he hated. Copying down schedules and figuring out the holes in his security system. When he worked, who he spent time with, where he liked to frequent.Â
To find the answer to the question: how did a man who thought he was untouchable like to live?Â
Lavishly.Â
He went to the nicest gym in the city, the kind that probably cost more than Toji's rent did every month. Followed it up with treat shops, always leaving with a bag of desserts with enough sugar to give him cavities. No trips to the dentist though.Â
But the most interesting part of his routine was one that hadnât been in any of the notes he was given. Not a blip on anyoneâs radar, apparently.Â
You.Â
âI got you a coffee,â you offered, your short little pencil skirt riding up your thighs as you chased after your boss through the lobby of his fancy office building in the center of the city.Â
âThanks,â he grinned at you, grabbing it just to place all the papers heâd been holding in your hands instead, pushing even more on top while you awkwardly opened and shut your mouth to stop yourself from saying anything.Â
He took a small sip, scrunched his nose up while Toji struggled not to scoff out loud from where he was pretending to read a magazine in the corner next to the other waiting clients, all of them eagerly hoping to meet with the not-so-great Satoru Gojo.
âItâs not sweet enough,â Gojo criticized, masking his attitude with playfulness, acting like a child while you apologized to him as if youâd done something wrong by thinking of him.Â
He wasnât listening. Just kept moving towards the elevators, pulling his phone from his pockets to make a phone call to some other prick, probably.Â
You scrambled behind him, folders stacked up in your arms, the coffee cup precariously balanced on top of the pile.Â
God, what kind of fucking loser didn't carry his own stuff?Â
His pretty little assistant he used more like a pack mule.Â
It didnât take long to find out your name.Â
From there, everything else was easy.Â
Finding out where you lived was as simple as following you from your car to your shitty little apartment, poorly paid and scraping by while your boss lived in his luxury penthouse on the opposite side of the city. Figuring out what foods you liked from what you spent too long looking at in the grocery store before you sighed and tossed a bag of rice in your cart instead. Snapping photos of you from afar like a fucking secret admirer through your window once you got back home, time stamped and saved to a special folder on his laptop, watching you shed your coat and clothes, trading them in for t-shirts and pajama pants.Â
Toji wasnât a stalker though.
Of course not.Â
He was just doing what he was paid for.Â
And what easier way was there to get to Gojo than through his cute, clueless assistant?Â
You werenât even aware when he trailed behind you on the street, head trained forward, always in a rush, scampering from place to place without stopping. Running errands for a man who couldnât care less about you.
And in this city, you might be the only person as alone as him.Â
Toji couldnât put his finger on when studying you had become less of a chore and more of a habit. Day four? Week two?
Watching and waiting for the right time to approach?Â
For all his expertise, his ability to move through the world unseen, unnoticed, it worked against him for once when you ran straight into him trying to leave your usual coffee shop, turning when he hadnât expected it and smacking into his chest at full speed.
The coffee â something cold and sugary and sweet â splashed over both of you, your white shirt soaked through to see a pale pink bra underneath, your face flushing for the wrong reasons as you immediately started rattling off apologies.
âOh god, Iâm so sorry,â you muttered, trying to use the few napkins you grabbed to dab at his t-shirt, rubbing uselessly despite the fabric already being black. âI wasnât paying attention, and-âÂ
âSâfine,â he grunted, yanking one from his hand to wipe off your shirt instead.Â
You didnât stop him.Â
Just froze, standing completely still as he dragged the napkin over your chest while it heaved, listening to you suck in a sharp breath.Â
When was the last time youâd even been intimate with a man if him cleaning your shirt had you practically pressing your thighs together in that prissy skirt of yours?Â
Admittedly, there was a distinct disgust churning in him at the image of you being intimate with someone else, despite how quickly he rejected it.
It wasn't like you were more than a mark to Toji.
He squinted, eyes narrowing as his attention shifted to your face just to find you openly gawking at his broad chest, lips still parted mid-apology.Â
âOh, um, thanks,â you practically squeaked, looking up at all with big, surprised eyes. Â
âWhatever,â he tch-ed, digging out his last ten dollar bill from his wallet and holding it out despite the urge to just toss it at you to see what youâd do.Â
You shook your head, oblivious to the fact he was well-aware just how strapped to cash you really were, biting your bottom lip. âI canât, I mean, that was really my fault, and-âÂ
âDonât make me put it in your purse, doll,â he huffed at you, even if he almost said bra. Tempted to tuck it in, wondering if youâd let him.Â
Did you even have it in you to stand up for yourself?Â
How the hell did a pretty thing like you survive so long on your own like this?Â
âA-are you sure?â You stuttered, glancing back over him again.Â
His pride took a fucking hit at your uncertainty.Â
Did he seriously look like he couldnât spare a ten dollar bill? Was it the sweatpants?Â
He showered this morning, bothered to spritz on cologne when he usually couldnât give a shit. Toji ran his fingers through his hair, jaw locking as his eyes narrowed.
âYou got a pen?â He grumbled, wagering that you definitely did. Maybe he hadnât seen the inside of your purse, but heâd been watching you long enough to know what its contents were.Â
In a not creepy way.Â
âYes?â You blinked, somehow cuter when you were confused.Â
Still though, you were obedient, anticipating him asking for it and just digging it out from your bag to hand to him. The tip of it had been bitten, another little hint of how nervous you were by nature.Â
He took it from you, his calloused fingers brushing against your much softer ones, a jolt of electricity traveling up his arm at the simple touch, the soft way your breath paused. You had to feel it too.Â
Toji scribbled his number down.Â
His personal cell.Â
You were beaming before he even finished writing the last number, standing up straighter, sticking your chest out more.Â
âIâll buy you a new shirt,â he grunted, giving you the pen before the dollar, holding it out over your head, your stare flickering from his face to the money. âText me.âÂ
He wanted you to reach for it.Â
To chase him.Â
But three more days passed â and he hadnât heard a peep.Â
Toji knew what you were up to, tracking you instead of his target, taking notes on everything you did instead of texting him. You stared at your phone at home though, left the dollar bill sitting on your kitchen counter, running your fingers over his writing as if you werenât sure what to do.Â
He supposed heâd have to help you figure it out then.Â
Especially considering Shiu was starting to get on his ass about getting the job done.Â
Because that was what this was supposed to be about â a means to an end.Â
Faking a name tag was easy. Digging up the old utility overalls heâd seen some of the other maintenance workers wear at your office, the sort of position no one ever paid any mind to until they were needed for something. He didn't get much sleep, trading in his night shift watching you go to sleep for snooping around your office. And in the morning, after going back to his car to put on some cologne, he walked back in through the lobby like he was supposed to be there, not even getting courtesy nods from your coworkers.Â
Toji had memorized your schedule.Â
So he knew to be in the third floor break room at ten, pretending to fix something in the ceiling when you walked in to make a cup of coffee.Â
For yourself this time.Â
He was climbing down from the ladder he stole from a storage closet when you sighed and started cleaning up the mess the last person had left by the coffee machine. You didnât notice, didnât even turn until you went to grab a mug from the shelf, frowning when you realized they had all been moved to the top shelf.Â
A nice touch, in his opinion. Â
Setting everything up to be the one to take care of it for you, stepping behind you, close enough for you to feel his chest on your back as he reached up to get it for you.Â
âHere,â he grumbled, and you slowly spun around to face him.Â
Stuck between his sturdy body and the cold counter, frozen in surprise at him being here. He wondered if youâd be scared, suspicious.Â
It was funny to watch you get so flustered instead, completely frazzled as you tried to find the words to say.Â
âUm, you, uh, work here?â You finally managed, and he just raised a brow, the scar over his mouth twitching as he gestured towards the name tag on his belt.Â
You blushed again, your attention drifting to something else by it, the bulge he hadn't meant to be sporting.Â
âMhm,â he hummed, a low drawl that made you smile at him.Â
It was sunny. You were. Bright, not bitter. Absolutely unaware that the world revolved around you.Â
âSorry,â you apologized, even though you had no actual reason to. Maybe for not messaging him back. Maybe for stealing glances at his dick.Â
He paused, a weird strained feeling taking over his chest, constricting his lungs when you tilted your head to the side.Â
âI havenât seen you around before,â you added, holding your breath.Â
âIâve seen you,â he shrugged, and your entire face practically lit up at the idea someone had been paying attention to you.Â
You swallowed hard, trying to stifle it. To keep it contained, to make yourself smaller in front of him, like he wouldnât like you if you werenât soft-spoken.Â
âDo you think you could take a look at the phones in my office? Well, Mr. Gojoâs,â you corrected yourself, toying with your fingers before cringing. âOnly if you're available, of course. I put in a ticket but-â
âSure,â he grunted.Â
As long as the actual maintenance guy didnât come, youâd never know the difference. After all, that was why heâd broken in last night. Disconnecting the phones himself, creating a couple issues with a few of the computers in the sales team downstairs that the real department would be too busy to handle any of your problems. If you ever pieced together he didnât actually work there, it wouldnât be until long after he was gone.
He'd prefer it if you never knew any better.Â
And Shiu never said he couldnât have some fun first.Â
He followed you back to your office, not hiding his stare, enjoying how you were already squirming, nervously shifting and looking over your shoulder at him every few feet.Â
âYou didnât have to do it now,â you mumbled, embarrassed, but he shrugged.Â
Rolling his shoulders back to remind you how broad they were, catching the flash of you biting your lip before you faced forward again.Â
Everything about you was far more fucking adorable than it had any right to be.Â
Toji had never really gotten the appeal of stuffed animals. He never had any when he was a kid. No softness, no warmth, nothing small and sweet to hug. But you reminded him of one.
Or maybe that was just the urge to pick you up and squeeze you hard.Â
âWhatâs wrong with âem?â He gruffly asked, gesturing ahead as you hit the button for the elevator to take you both to the top floor.Â
âThey just ring, and um, nothing happens,â you tried to explain, smoothing down your skirt self-consciously.Â
He nodded, like he knew what the problem could be, and he did, actually. Because he caused it.Â
The elevator doors opened, thankfully empty. There was something annoying about the idea of sharing you â even for a minute.Â
Toji told himself that you were just less irritating than other people. That it had nothing to do with you in particular, just how disgusting the rest of the world was.Â
But he was still observing how you pushed the button, how quickly you went back to fiddling with your fingers and picking at your cuticles. Clasping your hands in front of you, maybe just remembering the fact you forgot your coffee back in the break room. Left it by the pot you brewed, your lip gloss staining the rim from the single sip you'd taken and the drink inside growing cold.Â
Did you confess?Â
Admit you wanted to go back and grab it?Â
Nope.Â
He knew you wouldnât. All that meant was another excuse to go back and get it for you himself, maybe make you a fresh one to cement his spot in your good graces, to get your guard down.Â
The elevator dinged, opening up to wooden floors and soft lighting. Wall art he had briefly contemplated stealing the night before, although he skipped since itâd be a bitch to sell.Â
Besides, heâd have more than enough money to cover anything he wanted to buy soon enough.Â
âUm, the phoneâs over here,â you shyly said, leading him over to your desk.Â
Toji nodded, a low grunt of acknowledgement leaving his throat while he pretended to work on it, messing around with cables.Â
You were watching him, taking your seat and clicking away on your keyboard despite your eyes constantly flickering over to his.Â
He pretended he didnât notice. Setting his jaw in a firm line while he unplugged stuff just to put it in different outlets. He considered tapping the lines, just to listen in to whatever you were saying during the day, but then he'd have to justify that expense to Shiu, and he really didnât fucking feel like getting a lecture.Â
His handler would tell him just to take out the target already. Stop wasting his time getting close to a liability.Â
But of all the risks Toji had taken, you were the easiest one of all.
Would you let him find an excuse to get under your desk? Maybe catch a peek at whatever pair of panties you picked out today?Â
Your personal phone rang â and you were scrambling to pick it up and answer.Â
âHello?â Your voice lilted up, all pure and sweet, and Toji immediately loathed whoever you were addressing.Â
It wasnât anything he could control, just instinctual irritation, a cheese grater to his patience watching you sit up straighter in your chair while you listened to whoever was on the other end.Â
âOf course, sir,â you chirped. He had to stop himself from snapping the cord he was holding when he caught how you were subtly twirling your hair. Glancing down at your lap and sucking in a sharp breath before you mumbled, âSorry, Satoru.âÂ
Toji had to look down to make sure he didn't somehow electrocute himself when the edges of his vision tinged with red, annoyance rolling into a tight ball of anger. The hard kind that couldn't crack, just rolled around in the pit of his stomach, demanding something be done about it.Â
âOkay, see you in thirty.â You smiled. A soft one, biting it back before plastering a practiced expression of professionalism, probably remembering Toji was still here.Â
He scowled at the realization Gojo coming back meant he should probably skip bringing you that coffee. Didn't want to risk running into him too soon.Â
You hung up, and he shoved the last cord back in the correct place.Â
âTry now,â he growled, picking the phone up from the receiver and passing it to you.
You took it from him, your fingertips brushing against his again, all gentle as you cradled it between your shoulder and ear, nails clicking on the keypad. Relief flooded your face when it worked, looking up at him like you were thankful.Â
Gratitude wasn't something Toji knew how to receive.Â
He was used to the exchange of cash, of cold demands that ended in death. Your warmth was alien.Â
What had a guy like Satoru Gojo ever done to deserve it?Â
Was this jealousy? Bitter and begging to be addressed, his skin itching at imagining the man getting your company all day long, having you at his beck and call.Â
Whatever it was, Toji was going to fucking squash it.Â
âThank you, it was really nice of you-â
âWhat are you doing after work?â He interrupted before you could finish rambling, making all the reasons why you were easy to take advantage of excruciatingly obvious. You were too sweet. Too nice. Acting like he was a saint for fixing your phone, unaware he was the sinner who broke it to begin with. Who'd break your boss too, the second he got the chance.Â
âUm, nothing?â You blinked. Your lips were still parted, but you didn't say anything.Â
âWanna grab drinks?â He grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. Toji wanted to lean across the desk, put his palm flat on top of your useless papers and peek at your cleavage, but you were the sort that scared easily.Â
The confusion on your face was cute.Â
âLike, as coworkers?â You were clueless. âAre other people coming or-âÂ
Did you seriously fucking think you were just getting left out of some after work hangout?Â
âLike a date,â he clarified, struggling not to contain his urge to bend you over your desk and show you just how not-platonic his interest was.Â
âWith me?âÂ
You were gawking, but there was an unmistakable air of giddiness to your face, a grin you couldn't suppress even under all that shock.Â
âDid I stutter, doll?â Toji gruffly said, walking around your desk until your eye level was at his mid-riff. Your hand tightened around the armrest, slowly dragging your stare up like you could see the truth in his face.Â
âUm, sure,â you nodded, still unsure of how serious he was. âIf you want to.âÂ
âI want you,â he easily shrugged, making his point clear.Â
He wasn't delicate. Wouldn't skirt around shit like your Satoru did. Being blunt was the only way to get it through that pretty skull of yours anyway.Â
âI'll be waiting for you out front at six.â That was when you usually scampered out anyway, frazzled and exhausted from handling a man child's chores all day.Â
âOkay,â you spoke softly, betraying your feelings by covering your mouth with your hands, hiding a smile behind them.Â
He turned to leave, but he kept his eyes on you all the way to the elevator.Â
You watched him too. He might have a job to do.Â
Toji was just going to fuck you first.Â
Was this how it felt to have a crush?Â
Well, one that wasnât hopeless and unattainable?Â
Youâd been wasting years wishing Satoru noticed you. And in a matter of days, someone else had snuck up on you. A spilled coffee. A phone number. And now, a date.Â
When was the last time you'd even been on one?Â
You frowned at your reflection in the mirror, fingers working to undo another button of your shirt and hike up your skirt a little higher. Half of you was disappointed that he hadn't asked you out on a different night, or given you enough time to go home and get changed into something a little more sexy and less like you just stepped out of an investor meeting.Â
But the rest of you was just glad he wanted to go out with you at all.Â
You tried to tell yourself you had less time to overthink this way. That you wouldn't be distracted for days until the date, waiting for him to cancel.Â
But when you walked out of the building at six, leaving a sticky note for Satoru whenever he stepped out of his office letting him know you couldnât stay late tonight, Toji was true to his word, waiting for you in a beat-up black car.Â
It wasnât sleek, wasnât shiny and freshly glossed like Satoruâs, but it looked fast. His window was rolled down, his arm resting on it while his defined jaw unclenched at the sight of you standing there and staring.Â
âYou cominâ?âÂ
Was it wrong to hope heâd make sure you did by the end of the night?Â
You scampered over, glancing around to see a few of your coworkers looking your way before you pulled open the passenger door and climbed in. His eyes raked over you, that white scar that ran across the corner of his lips twitching up as he smirked.Â
He was broader than Satoru, stockier. All muscles, all man.Â
His dark hair was shaggy, not carefully styled, his sturdy fingers running through it as he measured you the same way you measured him. He mustâve gone home and changed, in a dark shirt that clung to his chest, made you take note of his biceps bulging underneath his sleeves, probably big enough to make them burst if he strained hard enough. Wearing jeans, no name tag hanging on his belt now.Â
But you already memorized his name.Â
Toji.Â
It had been on the forefront of your thoughts all day, right there with the rest of his words. He saw you. He wanted you.Â
Invited you out like it was the most natural thing in the world to do.Â
You were so distracted by, well, everything about him that you forgot to buckle your seatbelt until he stretched across the center console and did it for you. There was something kinda funny about a gruff guy like him taking care of something so small like that for you, grunting under his breath as it clicked into place.Â
Maybe just an excuse to be close to you, to touch you again.Â
You didnât mind.Â
His attention was nice.Â
You didnât know what to say though, awkwardly glancing between him and outside the window, wondering what a typical conversation looked like on a first date.Â
âSo, um, do you like your job?â You heard yourself ask, almost immediately wishing you hadnât just from his soft scoff, the subtle arch of his thin brow while he pulled out onto the road.Â
âIt pays the bills,â he shrugged, and you tried to nod sympathetically. You were about to spout out something polite, but then he opened his mouth to talk again, giving you that dangerous bit of side eye that made your heart skip a beat. âBut it ainât so bad. Gotta meet you because of it, didnât I, doll?âÂ
And there it was again.
Doll.Â
Satoru sometimes called you sweetheart, but that didnât send a shiver down your spine, didnât have that low rumble to it that gave you goosebumps. When he said it like that, you wouldnât really mind being a pretty toy for him to play with.Â
âY-yeah,â you stammered, blushing hard as you tried to swallow your anxieties.Â
You were overworked. Exhausted. Barely making it by on caffeine and four hours of sleep most days. But you were here. In a hot guyâs car being flirted with on the way to a bar.Â
He briefly looked at you before turning back to face the road, but you could see the satisfaction in the crook of his smile.Â
âRelax a little, baby,â he hummed, reaching over â and for a second, you thought he was going to grab your thigh. You hadnât realized it was hope until he just turned up the radio instead. But with a second flash of that scar and that smirk, you were smiling back at him. âWeâre gonna have fun tonight."Â
It still took two glasses of wine for you to start to unwind, a pleasant buzz floating around in your chest, coloring your world in warm hues as he leaned in next to you, his barstool dragged close enough for his muscled thigh to be constantly brushing against yours. A massive palm casually resting on your side, pulling you in every time someone got into what could be considered your personal space.Â
He didnât talk about himself.Â
Or that much, really.Â
Heâd ask a few questions, then let you ramble. Sometimes, his expression would shift, his harsh and blunt edges softening when you talked about the future, about how you wanted to quit someday, find a job that wouldnât burn you out. But it hardened a few times too, scowling when you mentioned Satoru, glaring when a drunk guy bumped into you.Â
And yeah, you got it. Your boss was a bit of anâŠacquired taste.Â
It didnât surprise you that he managed to piss off one of his employees, especially when you spent most of your days cleaning up the messes he made.Â
âWhen did you start?â You cleared your throat, trying to change the subject back to him. To get to know him properly. To be the best date you could be â or at least good enough that he might want to take you home.Â
âA while ago,â he shrugged, another vague answer as he polished off the last of his whiskey.Â
He didnât even seem buzzed.Â
âI feel like an idiot for not noticing you there before,â you admitted, tugging down the hem of your skirt self-consciously, shyly looking up to meet his open stare.Â
âSâfine,â he grunted, unbothered.Â
You didnât know what to make of him past the fact he was ridiculously attractive.Â
Toji was abrasive. The rough side of the sponge scraping up your silverware, the hard counter edge you bumped into when you weren't expecting it, the sharp rock that sliced open the soles of your feet when you forgot to wear shoes outside. But being around him left you hoping to get cut by him. Fingers crossed that heâd be interested enough to peel you apart and stay long enough to stitch you back together â even if it was sloppy.
After being surrounded by people who only ever plastered on fake smiles and feigned politeness, he felt like the first breath of fresh air you had in forever. Something raw and real in a world full of plastic.Â
He wasnât polished. Wasnât perfect.Â
But youâd never been either. And you were tired of pretending and playing along.Â
You took another long sip of your wine, the last drop lingering on your tongue as you pushed your empty glass forward too.Â
He chuckled, almost appreciatively. Snagging the drinks menu and sliding it back over to you, letting his fingers linger on top of it like he wanted to remind you how large they were.Â
âPick your poison.âÂ
âI think I should probably get a water,â you murmured, a little worried he might think that was lame.Â
He ordered you one anyway though, chuckling when you wiped away the ring of condensation from the counter after they took your glass away.
âDonât wanna get drunk with me?â He taunted, butterflies in your stomach fluttering when he cocked his head to the side. âIâm hurt.âÂ
He wasnât, not really. But you got the feeling he liked teasing you.Â
âI just donât wanna think this was all a dream tomorrow,â you laughed, forcing it to sound lighter than it really was. You really just refused to let yourself get so wasted that you might black out an entire date or embarrass yourself in front of him.Â
His eyes narrowed, like he was the one that couldnât discern if you were being serious.Â
âYou callinâ me dreamy?â He dryly mocked, and that pretty jaw of his clenched, like it was a joke.
âI mean, itâs just kind of hard to believe a guy like you wants to go out with someone like me,â you murmured, offering a small smile to the bartender when he pushed a glass of water over to you.Â
âA guy like me?â He challenged, and you cringed at your ability to stick your foot in your mouth. You didnât know if you actually offended him, if that was even possible, but you slipped your hand over his. Â
âYâknow,â you drawled, tracing your fingertips over his veins, holding your breath. âAttractive and-â
He snorted. Â
âSo what does that make you?â He raised a question youâd never really been able to answer. There were labels you assigned yourself, but all those really amounted to was what roles you played for other people.Â
Lately, all you felt like was Satoruâs assistant.Â
Barely your own person.Â
âI dunno,â you shrugged. âJust me?âÂ
âI like you,â he easily said.
âYou donât know me,â you pointed back out, bringing your water glass up to your lips to take a sip. Maybe he thought you were pretty. Maybe youâd caught his eye. But there was a difference in that and knowing what your favorite-
âYou stay late even when youâre exhausted. You think of everyone else when no one gives a shit. Show up with coffee and pastries for other people when you can barely afford to pay for your parking pass. You never take your lunch break-â He was listing facts like he was bored, proving his point with the overhead lights glittering back in his green eyes. You almost choked on your water, and he slipped his hand out from your other one to drag his thumb over your lips.Â
It felt scandalous. Like he was just waiting to commit some grave sin with how slowly he brushed it over your bottom lip, pulling it down just enough to make you wonder what his mouth would feel like, how his taste would compare to his touch.Â
But then he let go, dropped his hand down just to make you miss it.Â
âYou kinda sound like a stalker,â you giggled, unable to stop yourself from grinning at being seen.Â
There was some faint alarm bell you knew should be ringing, but your head had been emptied out to make room for more thoughts of him.Â
He chuckled, and your chest tightened.Â
âWhatâd you think I was giving you my number for?â He sarcastically asked, dark eyes narrowing under the dim lighting as he brought his own glass up to his lips.Â
You stifled another smile. âTo pay for my shirt?â
âI was thinkinâ about getting you out of it.â
Toji was shameless.Â
And every flirt, every searing gaze of his that stuck to your skin and stoked that fire in your stomach? You were falling for it. For him.Â
Would you be a whore for sleeping with him on the first date?Â
Maybe, but you couldnât bring yourself to believe it mattered.Â
You were about to suggest maybe returning to your apartment, but your phone started vibrating, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to hold back your disappointment.Â
âHold on one second?â You nervously asked, and he nodded.
âSure,â he barked, all gravelly, not helping the simmering heat still burning under your skin. You pulled your phone out, glancing around the bar for some semi-quiet spot to take the call.Â
You settled on a hallway that led to the bathrooms, heels clicking on the floor as you hurried over, grateful that Toji had chosen a hole-in-the-wall sort of place, one that wasnât packed with people to navigate through.Â
âHello?â Your voice waivered, face flushing at the mental image of what your boss was probably doing on the other end. Scowling down at the note you left him?Â
âThe hell are you?â Satoru whined on the other end, apparently not happy at your absence.Â
âIâm on a date,â you whispered back into the speaker, just for him to scoff back. The sound of it, even tinny and crackling through the line, fucking stung.Â
As if it was actually so absurd that you could be with someone.Â
âI need you here,â he huffed. âWeâre supposed to be preparing for tomorrowâs meetings.â
You tapped your foot, glancing back to the end of the hallway, picturing Toji sitting on the stool waiting for you.Â
âI already prepared all your slideshows. Anything you need should already be labeled and on your desk,â you muttered, doing your best to still sound professional. Collected. Calm. Put-together instead of just a weak-willed pushover.Â
Toji wasnât wrong. You spent all your time thinking of Satoru when he really couldnât care less. You were just convenient to him. That was what he paid you to be.Â
âI canât find it,â he grumbled. Lied.Â
âI also emailed everything to you,â you added, and he didnât bother to hide his whine of annoyance.Â
Irritated that you had a life outside of him. That your existence wasnât solely devoted to making his easier.Â
âWho are you even ditching me for?â Satoru was pouting. You could hear it in his voice.
âIf you really must know, he works in the maintenance department and-âÂ
He laughed at you.Â
âLeave that loser.âÂ
Was that what he thought? That the best you could get was a fucking loser?
âIâll see you tomorrow, Satoru.â You hung up on him. Slipped your phone back in your purse, looking up just to see Toji leaning against the wall across from you.Â
Startled, you stepped back, blinking and trying to figure out how someone as big and broad as him managed to sneak up on you.
âHe botherinâ you?â Toji grunted, gesturing towards your purse.
âNo, um, just work stuff,â you lied.Â
You didnât want to tell him the CEO of the company basically called him a loser. It felt mean, and you were worried heâd somehow think you shared the same impression.Â
âYeah?â He angled his head down to look at you, and his proximity made your pulse race, wild thumps roaring in your head as he took two steps closer.Â
âI hung up on him,â you admitted, even though he hadnât asked. Feeling bold just by being with him, as if you were already getting away with something.Â
âYou wanna give me all that attention instead, baby?â His voice was deep, a gruff purr that had you nodding.Â
Your obedience earned a pleased hum.Â
And even better, a kiss.Â
The kind that knocked the air from your lungs, his calloused hands cupping your face as he claimed your lips for himself. You kissed him back just as hard, craning your neck up into it, tethering your fingers through his dark locks while you sucked on his lower lip.Â
He tasted like whiskey. But his lips were soft enough to make you overlook the feeling that came with wondering if this was a mistake.Â
If Satoru would fire you for wanting to get fucked instead of running back to fuss over him.Â
Toji wasnât the sort of guy whoâd let you linger on silly worries though. No, his canines were already tugging at you, nipping at the spots youâd bitten out of stress, one of his rough palms travelling down your body, settling on your waist to pull you flush against his hard body.Â
You wanted to touch him.Â
To pull off his shirt and trace your fingers over all his muscles, map them out and drag your tongue over them. His was busy, already in your mouth, muffling your surprised gasp when his grip on your side suddenly squeezed tight.Â
âFuck,â he groaned into your mouth, an intangible thread in your stomach pulling taut at the sound.Â
He dragged you back inside the bathroom, the employee one, like he wanted the thrill of fucking you in public with less of a risk of being walked in on.Â
It was sleazy.
But the exhilaration of his hand now on your hip, the way his fingers dug in and wrinkled your skirt as he pulled you through the door, your back being pushed against the cold sink as his mouth latched onto your throat next, it outweighed any rational thought your brain could conjure up.Â
You wanted him.Â
The world could wait.Â
This was more real than anything else your reality had to offer. His tongue licking a clean line up from your collarbone to your jaw, going back to leave messy hickies, claiming you as his. For tonight, at least.Â
Hopefully longer.Â
But you kept that thought to yourself, only letting small whines escape as his hand ventured under your skirt, toying with your panties underneath, slipping two fingers underneath it, testing how much the band could give.Â
You didnât want to scare him off. Push him away before he'd even put his dick inside you.Â
He seemed like he specialized in one-night-stands. Like he was used to getting who he wanted when he wanted. And really, you were just so fucking sick of being single.Â
Of being lonely.Â
The hand that had still been on your face moved back, suddenly cradling the back of your neck, squeezing enough to make your head tilt back and give him easy access to more of you.Â
There was a vulnerability to it, letting him sink his teeth into your throat, marking you up enough that the bruises would bleed through your concealer tomorrow.
But then Toji was tearing your panties off, easily rolling the flimsy fabric that you truthfully paid too much for, shoving what was left of it in his pocket before prying your thighs apart.Â
You spread them further, your lungs freezing half-full of air as you watched him drag his eyeline down to your exposed cunt, already embarrassingly wet after just a couple hours spent in his company.Â
He hiked your skirt higher, appreciatively admiring it, clicking his tongue as he shoved a thick finger inside you. Clearly, heâd taken note of how much you noticed them.Â
You were gasping before he even made it down to the knuckle. Eyes widening, your hands immediately shifting to claw at his shoulder blades for some stability when you tried to contain your reaction.Â
But Toji wasnât going to let that slide. Refused to let you hide every lewd reflex â shoving another finger inside to join the first just to force out a strangled moan at the feeling of him stretching you open.Â
Scissoring you at a tempo that bordered on lethal, only pausing his onslaught of kisses to watch your face when you said his name, all pitchy, almost pathetic. Putty for him with just a couple fingers.Â
âYaâ like that, pretty?â He grumbled, fraying with impatience, already itching to add another â or maybe trade his fingers out for something bigger.Â
âMm, mhm,â you murmured, nodding as you reclined your head back, the cold edge of the counter digging into your skin as he pulled you closer to him just to make you jolt again at the next pump of his fingers.Â
âYou wanna tell me why youâre runninâ from me then, doll?â He dared, his eyes dark, his lips pulled into a thin line as you shook your head the other way.Â
The intensity he came with was a double-edged sword. Drawing you in one second and threatening to spear you the next. Chasing the high of being fucked full just to run from the burn, the stretch, the pleasure when he pushed you right on the edge of a cliff the next. Finding yourself teetering a tightrope you never meant to walk on.Â
âSâtoo-â You sounded slurred, even though the only thing you really felt drunk on was him.Â
âHm?â He waited for you to finish, stalling his next thrust with his fingers buried deep enough to reach a spot that was a little too sensitive, knowingly swirling against it while you squirmed.Â
You were a wreck and he hadnât even managed to make you cum yet.Â
The too much that had been about to leave your lips replaced with a desperate plea for more.Â
Your skin was hot, sweat sticking to your brows as he dug his fingers deeper, felt the sinful way you squeezed them, panting as tears started to form in the corners of your eyes.Â
There was no running. Being spread and stuffed on a bathroom sink by a handsome man who might as well be a stranger, fingers poking and prodding at all your sensitive spots, readjusting his hand so his thumb could rub over your clit.
âThought you had something to say?â He wryly mocked, and you were pretty positive youâd forgotten everything except his name.Â
âT-Toji,â you whined, body stuck, all your muscles wound too tightly, hips arching up to meet his hand.
He kissed you again, harder, rougher. Crashing into you like a tidal wave, dragging you under, lost between him and the pleasure, being tossed around with each thrust of his fingers. Climaxing without even meaning to, not even a conscious choice, just being pulled into the motions as he massaged rough circles over your needy bud.Â
And then you were sucking in air, his fingers pulling back out with a filthy pop! before he brought it up to his mouth and took a taste. Sucking on them and groaning at the second-hand flavor of you on his tongue.Â
âDo you wanna come back to my place?âÂ
You shouldâve known making you cum once wouldnât satisfy him.Â
Or twice.Â
He had you up against the wall of his shower, your face pressed against the cool tile as his hips smacked against your ass, pounding into it as he continued to leave more hickies.Â
âThatâs it, pretty,â he grunted, his thick cock throbbing inside you, swollen tip nudging and grinding against your cervix like he owned it. Dragging himself along your walls, making sure you felt every vein, every ridge, warm water pelting both your bodies. âLook how good you're takinâ me.âÂ
His hand ran over the curve of your ass, softly patting it. It wasnât a spank, but you wanted it to be.Â
You shivered as he bottomed back out, leaning against him, mostly held up by him by now. âM-more.âÂ
âGreedy fucking girl,â he chuckled, but his voice was raspy too, running his hand back over your ass. âYou want me to spank you?âÂ
You nodded, embarrassed to admit it.Â
âSay it,â he groaned, and you squeaked. Surprised at the sudden stall of his cock, feeling yourself squeezing and squirming for him to keep going.Â
âPlease?âÂ
His hand came down, leaving a harsh smack that made you clench around him more, a moan escaping that echoed in the cramped space.Â
Toji rubbed back over it, his fingers still damp, murmuring something low you couldn't make out under the shower running. But then he was back to thrusting, faster now, like he wasn't finished imprinting the shape of him into you.Â
It was all moans, all skin-on-skin, lewd sounds and heavy pumps, his strokes only getting sloppier when his hand slipped over your clit. Intent on making you cum for him again, his jaw clenched when you tensed up. Planting kisses up your throat, teeth marking you with an unspoken mine when you shuddered and finished, white splotching across your vision as your limbs threatened to go limp.Â
Toji pulled out, finishing on your back just for the water to wash his cum away. Down the drain with the soap suds.Â
He whispered your name into your neck, soft lips tracing back over the mess of hickies he'd left. You were in a haze, brain foggy and chest still full even after your cunt was empty again, leaning against him when he cleaned you up.Â
You never wouldâve guessed he used the same brand of shampoo or conditioner as you. It was funny how many products you mutually had. Even the hand soap was a familiar bottle, new too, hardly used.Â
He dried you off with a patchy towel, wrapping it around you and shutting off the shower. Pulling you back to his bed, half-made navy blankets in a mostly-barren room. The lamp by his bed was crooked, but there wasn't all that much personal stuff laying around. No posters decorating his wall.Â
Nothing else to learn about him from his possessions.Â
âTired?â He grumbled, tossing you a t-shirt of his.Â
âMhm,â you yawned, dropping the towel to pull it over your head. No panties, but you figured you didn't really need any to sleep in anyway.Â
You still felt nervous getting into his bed, waiting for him to get in with you. He hesitated, staring at you strangely before he grabbed a pair of boxers from the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled them up his thick thighs.Â
Toji got in next to you, stiff, awkward, before holding out his arm, like he was waiting for you to snuggle up beside him.Â
Maybe he wasn't as much of a man whore as you initially thought.Â
He was acting new to this, holding his breath when you scooted closer, laying your head on his arm.Â
You wondered if heâd ever been soft before. If he was capable of it. Â
Even now, you were left with the vague impression thisâŠtenderness wasnât exactly that. An impression. A mask, maybe, something he wasn't used to wearing. Â
But the afterglow was warm. Wrapped in the heat his body radiated, his strong arms sheltering you from the rest of the world as you sighed in contentment, resting on his bicep as you looked up at him.Â
Your phone started buzzing inside your purse on the floor, and you didnât need to look to know who it was.Â
âSometimes I wish heâd just fucking disappear,â you mumbled, sighing as you tried to push off his chest to answer it.Â
âStay,â he growled, grabbing your waist to keep you in place.Â
You pressed your palm flat against him, pushing your lips together in a pout. âI have to answer him.âÂ
Or heâd throw a fit and make tomorrow hell for you.Â
Toji begrudgingly let you get up, glaring when you bent over to fish your phone from your bag, his scar twitching down as he frowned. âYou ever think youâd be better off if he dropped dead?âÂ
You laughed, staring at the name on the screen as you shrugged.
âAll the time.âÂ
You were trouble.Â
Fucking you was supposed to make it easier. Satisfy the stupid urges heâd been plagued with since he saw your face. Since he heard your voice and felt your fingers on his skin.Â
Instead, it sealed his fate.Â
Yours too.Â
Because laying in bed the morning after, watching the subtle rise-and-fall of your chest, finding himself tracing shapes on your skin for the excuse to keep touching you, a fuzzy feeling he couldnât snuff out was suffocating him.Â
Smothered in the scent of soap and sex and your sweet perfume. Sniffing the shampoo in your hair, sighing at the way his heart beat faster every time you tossed and turned.Â
How long had it been since he slept next to someone?Â
Shared more than a fast fuck? A quick make-out session that never made him feel anything?Â
He snuck out of bed first, readjusting your head to rest on the pillow and pulling up his blanket to cover you before he caught himself.Â
What the hell was he doing?Â
You werenât his girlfriend.Â
But maybe you could be. If he played his cards correctly.Â
And really, was there anything better than making a bet he knew heâd win?
He found his phone in his jeans, a few missed calls from Shiu waiting. He deleted them. Walked out into the kitchen, opening the door to his mostly-empty fridge, staring at the eggs in there, the few cans of energy drinks, before moving to the pantry. There wasnât much there either. Rice. Ramen.Â
Stuff for a single guy who didnât give a shit about taking care of himself.Â
âWhatâre you doing?â You yawned behind him, all sleepy and sweet, and he glanced back over his shoulder to see you walking over, clutching his blanket to your chest.
âLookinâ for something to make you breakfast,â he grunted, folding his arms across his chest.Â
You giggled, like it was fucking cute.Â
âGot any coffee?âÂ
He made it a week of pretending to be a normal guy in a normal relationship before the fractures started forming.Â
Donning his fake uniform and driving you to work and to your place, narrowly avoiding being spotted by your boss and undermining all those pesky security systems to set up for what he was really planning. Using a couple of his contacts to get his hands on something that couldnât be traced back to him. Moving all the pieces into place while playing boyfriend.Â
He mightâve dragged it out longer â went another few days, pushed back Gojoâs death date again â but Shiu wouldnât shut up.Â
Toji was supposed to be waiting for you outside, wishing for a cigarette and reading your message that your boss was making you help him with one last thing then youâd be down to get lunch with him when his own handler called.Â
âThe hell is taking so long?â Shiu scoffed over the phone, almost as annoyed as he felt.Â
âCovering our fuckinâ asses,â he growled back.Â
There was no way he was risking his fucking neck this time. He wasnât going to jail for this shit â and he sure as hell wasn't going to let you either.Â
âThe client expects this done-âÂ
âIâm handling it,â Toji interrupted him, a gruff growl from the back of his throat.
He had the stuff with him, everything he needed to make you his â and send Satoru Gojo to an early grave.Â
âTake care of it.âÂ
Shiu hung up on him.Â
The soles of his boots were heavy on the ground, tapping his foot as he checked the time again. Two more minutes, and he'd call you. The seconds tended to drag by without you there.Â
He heard your voice, faint, still far away, but he turned anyway.Â
You were walking out the main doors of the building, Gojo walking close behind you, his brows drawn tightly together, scolding you. He grabbed your wrist, but you shrugged him off, Tojiâs blood boiling at how handsy that asshole was, touching something that didn't belong to him.Â
All the stares of people passing by, coworkers or not, shifted towards the two of you.Â
Your sad little pout, your chest puffed out and trying to stand straight, while he glared at you.Â
âMaybe I should just fire you,â Gojo scoffed at you, and you flinched. Toji could feel the vein in his forehead throbbing, fist clenching while you did your best to bite your tongue.Â
But then you surprised him â and Gojo â by beginning to speak up, âIâm-âÂ
âYouâre replaceable.âÂ
Your face crumpled at how sharply he cut you off. Struggling not to cry, to hold yourself together while he turned on his heel and stormed back inside. Other people pretended to not be eavesdropping, avoiding eye contact when you walked away. Head hanging low, rubbing your eyes, barely paying attention to where you were going until he caught you.Â
You didn't even say anything when Toji pulled you in for a hug, squeezing you against him as you automatically hid your face in his chest.Â
He was shit at comforting people. Had never really known what to say. How to make anyone feel better.Â
But you didn't seem to mind, a few muffled sobs snuffed out when your mouth was pressed against his broad muscles.
âH-he said heâs gonna-â You tried to choke out, but Toji just softly patted your head.
âDon't worry about him,â he grunted.Â
He wouldn't be alive long enough to actually fire you.Â
Toji didn't say that though. He let you cry in his car, listened to you vent about your latest argument, wiped away some of your tears with the calloused pad of his thumb.Â
And when your break ended, and you were supposed to go back to finish off your shift, he walked back in with you. Made up some excuse about putting off taking care of the next maintenance ticket, like he hadn't already disabled all the cameras in the building earlier.Â
Usually, he preferred a bullet and brute force. Didn't see the point in a delicate touch and careful preparations. But he'd make an exception for you.Â
This one time.Â
âI think I'm gonna make him some coffee,â you murmured, still sniffling as you grabbed the stuff you needed for it.Â
Like it would be a truce instead of a death sentence.Â
You didn't know any better. Just scurried around the break room, not noticing when he poured a little packet of powder into the cup the moment your back was turned.Â
âYouâre too good for him.âÂ
You glanced back at Toji, smiling even though it didn't reach his eyes. Not really believing it, but still appreciating the sentiment.Â
âYou're probably the one person that thinks that.â
You picked up the cup of coffee, pouring a ridiculous amount of sugar in, enough to cover the slightly bitter powder. You even snagged a can of whipped cream from the fridge, swirling it on top as if your efforts would be appreciated.Â
Two birds. One stone.Â
Or really, two fools and one cup of coffee. That was all it'd take for you to be his and both your problems to be solved.Â
And if it didn't?
Well, his gun was still tucked inside the band of his jeans.Â
âAre you sure you're not going to get in trouble?âÂ
Toji had gotten on the elevator with you, his hand still slung too low on your waist to be purely polite, brow arched up at your concern for him slacking off.Â
âJust wanna make sure you're alright,â he grumbled, huffing and looking back at the buttons lit-up on the elevator.Â
You weren't really sure what he was to you.Â
A boyfriend? A lover?Â
But you didn't mind. His proximity was nice. His presence in your life was welcome.Â
Even if it was causing problems with Gojo â who had made it clear he couldn't stand sharing your attention at all. Hated you having a life.Â
You weren't delusional enough to think maybe he'd change his mind if he met Toji.Â
But your fingers were still unsteady as the elevator dinged and let you off on the top floor.Â
Gojo was sitting at your desk, legs propped up and feet on your paperwork. He was pretty as always, white hair tousled, one of those sharp brows of his casually raised as he glanced between you and Toji. âIs this seriously the guy?â
He laughed like it was an insult. Ignoring your frown when you walked over to hand him his coffee. He took it though, bringing it up to his mouth but not before scoffing again.Â
âSatoru,â you hissed out his name, a low warning that he was rolling his eyes at.
He took a long drink, whipped cream sticking above his lips like a mustache before his face paled. The next few seconds slowed, crawling by as you watched him drop the mug, ceramic shards shattering as he choked.Â
You were staring, your brain refusing to process what you were seeing, Tojiâs voice registering behind you but the words not making any sense.Â
What the hell was happening?
Somewhere, the vague thought hit you that something was seriously wrong, that Satoru was dying, but nothing would connect, your body refusing to respond to even the notion of it.
Your mouth fell open, but your scream was muffled by Tojiâs hand. Knees buckling, just for him to catch you in his arm, one arm wrapped around your midsection to hold you up.Â
âHey, hey, I'm here,â he gruffly muttered, and you clung to that.Â
âW-we need to call someone,â you stammered, your panicked gasps turning into hyperventilating. This was bad. Really, really fucking bad.Â
âItâs okay,â he soothed in your ears, turning around so you couldn't see Satoru anymore. Wouldn't have to look when-
You couldn't even finish the thought.Â
âJust breathe, baby.â
âI-I can't.â You were trying, but no air would enter your lungs, throat constricting more with each attempt.Â
Toji paused, his palm pressing harder against your back before he stiffened.Â
âWe need to go.â
You let him lead you back out, his hand on your spine still guiding you forward. One step, and another. Focusing on the rhythm in them, the pattern of the elevator carpet, a crack in the sidewalk, whatever was beneath your feet to stop the image of Satoru from flashing in your head.Â
Was he dead? What could even cause it? An allergic reaction? Poison?Â
Oh God no.Â
He led you back to his car.Â
Toji had parked it further down the street than usual, opening the door for you to get in and buckling you in again. It didn't feel quite as romantic as the first time.
âWhere are we going?â You asked, voice cracking as you forced the words out. All you really wanted was to sleep, to go somewhere that you didn't have to think anymore.
âDon't worry about it, doll,â he casually said, shutting the door behind him and walking around to the driverâs seat.Â
âIs he-âÂ
You couldn't get the question out, and he didnât answer.
âThe cops are gonna think-â You started, only just starting to swallow the bitter pill that you were screwed.Â
âTheyâll frame you for it,â he scoffed, and you recoiled. Surprised at yourself for forgetting what you already knew about the man in front of you.Â
He wouldn't sugarcoat it.Â
Make fake promises to you that this would be fine.Â
âBut I-â
âDo you want to spend the rest of your fuckinâ life behind bars?â He growled, and you hated how much of a point he had.Â
You shook your head, fingers trembling as he stilled them with his own.Â
Gojo had a lot of enemies. Any one of them would be happy to let you take the fall.Â
All you'd done was give Gojo a fucking cup of coffee â and now he was dead.
âThereâs cameras,â you murmured, ones that would catch you running away from the scene of the crime.Â
âThey've been down half the day,â Toji grumbled, and you had no idea if that was even a relief.Â
Your feelings were all jumbled, guilt, horror, disgust, regret, even affection and adoration tangled up in there with Toji trying so hard to keep you safe.Â
You stared at him, still shaking, and he leaned across to spare you a heated kiss. Grounding you here with him, his calloused palm caressing your cheek as his pretty eyes narrowed.Â
âI'll protect you.âÂ
Toji meant it.
The motel was shitty, far enough from the city you dozed off on the drive, but there werenât any cameras.
No one to watch him carry you from his car and no one to care after he tossed enough cash to cover a room at the strung-out receptionist.Â
You woke up still in shock. Reeling from what youâd seen â or rather what youâd done.Â
âSomeoneâs gonna come-â
âNo oneâs gonna find you, baby,â he promised, and it was one he intended to keep.Â
You curled up on the bed, and he crawled in next to you, letting you bury your face in his chest to muffle the faint sounds of crying. Stroking your hair at first, eventually untucking your shirt from your skirt to trace soothing patterns over the bare skin of your back. Maybe you were scared right now, that was natural.
The first kill was always the hardest.Â
Once you were somewhere safe, once you knew he wasnât going anywhere, youâd relax. After the news cycle covering your former employerâs death died off, and the investigation went cold, you'd realize that you wouldn't get caught.Â
And if you adjusted better than he hoped, maybe you could be his assistant.Â
Or if not, maybe he could leave this life behind. Find something more stable. Part-time work, or something he could do from home to spend more time with you.
You fell back asleep on him, lashes fluttering as he ran over his next steps.Â
He'd gotten rid of both your cells and tossed your wallet on the drive, slipping the sim cards out and destroying them when he got gas and paid in cash. Someone had probably found the body by now. He'd need to switch cars to pick up the payment from the drop off point, but that wouldn't be a problem.Â
There was a payphone outside, one he could see from the window. He'd call Shiu from it in a few minutes, let you dream on him for a bit longer.Â
The pay for this would be enough for fake passports, to buy some place off grid â and install a state of the art security system. To keep intruders or officers investigating out.Â
And more importantly, keep you inside.Â
There was nothing better than a bonus for a job well done - especially one as pretty as you.
Êâáą. .áąâÉ join me for a super special celebration! i recently hit a milestone that i'm super happy with and wanted to do something fun to celebrate. i had so much fun writing this for @jazzthatonewriterchick i've just been in the mood for more fantasy stuff :3 will be a selection of drabbles + a few oneshots featuring some of our favorite jjk characters <3
Synopsis. 8010âDOKI-DOKI-GF: Are you a complete nâ utter nerd that just canât seem to find a girlfriend? Have you lied to your family and told them that youâre seeing someone (when you really arenât)? Do you need to save face at the next family dinner before your uncle makes fun of you until the end of time? Well, call our hotline NOW to access Tokyoâs #1 rent-a-girlfriend service!
Choso Kamo, unfortunately, is all of the above.
ââIâm so happy youâve found your person, ChoâŠâ Itadori Jin coos- tearing up.
âP-papa, people are staring.â Choso huffs, spooning the syrupy-sweet cherries on his sundae over to Yujiâs.
âI know, I know.â Jin bats a hand, not-so-discreetly dabbing underneath his eyes using his sweater. âItâs just- your uncle and I were getting so worried, yâknow?â He gestures at his younger twin brother next to himâlooking comically buff in that pretty pink ice cream parlor seat. Jin had chosen this place. âAnd although we didnât lose hope-â
âWhoâs we?â Sukuna snorts.
âI uhâŠwell.â Jin adjusts his glasses and looks over at Itadori Wasuke - currently scooping out his own cherries to flick into the neighboring tableâs cups when they werenât looking. âFather and I didnât lose-â
âI did.â Wasuke looks squarely at his oldest grandson, âNo offense, kid- but I bet „400 that youâd die alone.â
Sukuna nods seriously, âI bet „20,000.â
To which youâre finallyâŠreaching over to intertwine your fingers with Chosoâs.
âŠChoso drops his cherries.
And youâre letting out such a sweet, sweet giggle - even sweeter than the linger of cherries on his tongue - before you duck underneath the table to help him pick them up.
Choso was already on his knees crawling after those damn cherries- and all it takes is a single glance at your face oh-so-close to his, in such short proximity, for him to joltâand bang his head against the underside of the table. So hard that the glasses clink against one another, and Wasuke groans as he misses in his valiant cherry canons.
So loud that half the parlor stares at your little table.
âOh no.â Youâre reaching out in concern as Choso rubs his achinâ head. âHoney, are you-â
âI-Iâm fineâ!â Choso turns his face away - and the only things you could make out were the frames of his chunky glassesâŠand the burning red on the tips of his ears. Blushing. Though youâre not convinced, and once you get a little closer- heâs waving you off more fervently than ever. âI promise, I promise! I can handle itâŠbabe.â
You quirk a brow - âIf you say so, sugarplum.â
He almost jolts once more- too much�
However, before youâre thrusting yourself once more into the stratosphere of emotional fathers (at least, one of them) and glowering uncles, you inch yourself closer to the nerve-wracked man - as quick as a flash. And then youâre pressing your lips to his right cheekâjust a graze, just a peck.
But itâs enough for Choso to yelp-
And bang his head against the table once again.
âEasy there, tiger.â Youâre giggling at him, âI need you in one piece.â
âN-need meâŠâ Choso whispers to himself- perhaps thinking that you wonât hear.
And itâs a small mercy that youâre handing to him - pretending that you didnât hear that. Instead, youâre throwing yourself back into your seat, and presenting your most-practiced smile at Chosoâs eavesdropping family members.Â
In little-to-no time, Chosoâs popping back up and plopping all those floor cherries into Sukunaâs black coffee. The older man swears.Â
Jin covers the seven-year-old Yujiâs ears.
And then your boyfriendâs excusing himself hastily to the bathroom. Leaving you alone with them.
Unsure how to proceed, thereâs a few minutes of silence before youâre speaking first. âQuite the lovely place, isnât it?â
âYes- yes.â Jin snaps out of his little reverieâheâd been watching over your interaction with such unabashed pride. Such loving nosiness. Out of all the fathers of clients that youâd happened to meet, you think he might just be your favoriteâŠHe beams. âIâm so glad you like it, dear. I mean- the first girl that Choâs introducing us to-â
âThe only one.â Sukuna coughs.
â-I just knew I had to impress. I picked this one specifically because it advertised itself as a place thatâs both family-friendly and open to coup-â
âSo you met the wimpâŠhow again?â Sukuna interrupts. And he ignores the look that Jin throws at him.
âSix months ago at university.â Chosoâs finally finished up at the bathroom, within earshot of the table. He takes his seat right next to you.Â
âI hope you washed your hands.â You whisper to him.
âOf course, I did.â
The two of you had already repeated this tried and true story at the very start of your introductions. And it was clear that Sukuna was fishing for somethingâŠmore.
You make a show of reaching for Chosoâs hand on top of the tableâintertwining your fingers with his. They were fingers much longer and thicker than yours- that you might not have expected. The most sensual calluses from what you assume to be turning pages of books. The softest touch nevertheless.
You squeeze his hand and shoot him a simpering smile.
Itadori Jin just about faints.
Sukuna scoffs at his overdramatic older brother, âSâthat soâŠ?â He then crosses his tattooed arms, âYou donât seem like the type to like ah- biology and hemorrhages.â
âItâs biology and hematology, uncle Ryo.â Choso answers crossly, âAnd no- we met in the campus library.â
Then youâre the one to pipe up. âCho here- oh, sorry, Choso-â
âCall him whatever you likeâ!â Jin cries.
As his brother attempts to wrangle him back into his seat, you smile appreciatively and continue. âCho here was the one that helped me find a textbook Iâd been searching for for weeks.â Just to add a little flare to it, youâre squeezing his hand once more and staring deeply into his big, beautiful brown eyes when you speak. âHe knew even better than the librarian! And he was just so nervous- stuttering and- and did I tell you that he almost tripped over himself handing me that book?â
Jin, so very interested in your story, shakes his head aggressively.
Meanwhile Sukuna merely rolls his eyes- though you note that he and Wasuke donât interrupt you for a second.
âYeahâŠthat was when I knew.â You conclude. Patting lovingly at his arm, âAnd of course, it did take a few weeks of being friends for Cho here to finally build up the courage. But he did manage to ask me out in the endââ
Sukuna raises one mean, coral-pink brow.
And youâre elbowing your boyfriend.
â-didnât you, honey?â
It was rather difficult to convince your boyfriendâs family of the story of you two meeting- especially when your boyfriend himself looked as though this was his first time hearing itâŠChoso kept an expression of sweet euphoriaâsomething soft. Like he was watching a romantic movie play out.
One that was starring in- and you needed him to say somethingâŠ
âHuh? Yes?â Choso blinks- sense coming back to him. âO-oh, yes.â
And then he straightens up.
Possessively placing his hand on top of yours, âI saw her and I justâŠknew she had to be mine-â
âSee now, that where yer lying.â Sukuna leans over the table with a devilish smile- pointedly ignoring his brotherâs swatting. âThereâs no world in which Kamo Ultimate Loser Chosoâhad his first kiss with a biology textbook, asked out the high school lab skeleton before any real person - would be the one asking you out.â
Youâre stiffening as he points at you.
âAre you just someone heâs paying to lie? Because whatever heâs paying, it surely canât be enough-â
Youâre plastering on your smile, âIf by âpayâ you mean love and cherish me then-â
âThen I know my nephew would no sooner woo a damn lab rat than a real person.â Sukuna scoffs, crossing his arms and falling back into his seat. âEspecially one so pretty.â
Jin looked tense- and heâd forgone swatting at Sukuna underneath the table to now openly pinching his bicep. Still, the pain seems to do nothing to bate his suspicion.
âMore sundaes, everyone? More sundaes?â Jin asks in a strangely high tone.
The only ones unaffected at the table was Yuji currently plucking at his sundae cherries, and Wasuke who stared at them with the internal debate as to whether or not he should fling those at the neighboring table, too. You almost wanted him toâanything to distract from the terseness that had suddenly taken over.
And to your surprise - itâs Choso whoâs the first one to speak. âWhy, uncle RyoâŠâ Those doe-like eyes of his narrow into an expression youâve never seen made by the sweet, sweet boy thus far. â-jealous?â
Sukuna startles- âThe hell did you s-â
âDagnabbit I almost had it this time-â Wasuke gives up on considering and swipes one of Yujiâs overabundance of cherries to throw into their neighboring tables glass. Itâs a hole in one.
âGrandma, do that againâ!â Yuji squeals and claps his hands.
âHuh, where? Iâm grandpa-â
âEverybody silence!â Jinâs voice raises above than the rest - and into every corner of the ice cream parlor. Echoing. He hadnât realized it in the heat of the moment, but he found himself standing as he stopped the chaosâand rushed to sit down after some apologetic bows at the wider population being subjected to the catastrophe that wasâŠtheir family.
And his next apology is directed at you. âMy dear, I cannot tell you how sorry I am-â Now instead of pinching Sukuna, he outright gives the man a brotherly smack upside the head. Unafraid of doing so; Jin makes it hard enough that even Ryomen Sukuna winces. Now you understand how he kept his title shining as older brotherâŠâ-that I am related to a bunch of buffoons, and Yuji.â
âYuji has been quite the distinguished gentleman.â Youâre nodding at Yuji and his ice-cream-covered grin. âBut itâs alright, Mr. Itadori. Honestly- promise I wasnât offended by anything said.â
Your hands have seemed to find a permanent home in Chosoâs - at least for the time being - and you squeeze his.Â
âI understand that youâre just ah- cautious as the first girl to meet you like this butâŠI get it. Really.â Jinâs expression just seems to melt as you keep speaking. âCho really is someone special to me. And I want to protect him, too.â
Next to you, you hear Choso suck in a shaky breath.
âReally? And you truly promise that it hasnât been too much?â He probes with shining eyes. âRyo here can get a little too mouthy-â
âHey!â Sukuna startsâthen immediately winces as Jinâs fingers twitch towards him again.
âPlease do forgive him- itâs in his nature.â
âAbsolutely promise. And I donât hold anything against Mr. Sukuna, either.â You knew to hit juuuust where it mattered - and referring to Sukuna using such a title made the man straighten in his chair a little. âChoso did warn me that his family might be a littleâŠexcited. But to be honest with you, I always have had a soft spot for big, loud families.â
âWellâŠâ Jin blushes happily, before reaching across the table and shaking your hand. âYou may call me Jin, if youâd like. And Iâd like to welcome you into our big, loud family.â
âIâm so honored- thank you.â
âThe honor is all ours.â
âOh no, itâs ours.â
Sukuna glances at Choso and scoffs. Underneath his breath, âThatâs as long as that wimp has paid for-â
The table rattles as Jin kicks him underneath it. âThe honor is all ours. Isnât itâŠyounger brother?â
âYe-yesââ Sukuna wheezes. His large hand comes slamming down- merely something to hold onto his dear life for. âWelcome to the family, girl.â
You beam like itâs the happiest day of your life.
Head rested on Chosoâs shoulder, and your head nodding at the flow of conversation. âThis is cooler than the Turritopsis dohrnii.â He breathes.
Save for the brief hiccup earlier- youâd consider your first meeting with Chosoâs family to have gone swimmingly. And sure, perhaps Sukuna held the faintest inkling of suspicion that what the two of you had was a ruseâbut heâd been shot down almost immediately by Jin.
And thank goodness for that.
âLetâs celebrate by getting the double double heart-shaped cones- oh, I wonder how they get them into that shape?â Jin hums. âAnd then I want chocolate chips, dipped in the bubblegum drizzle and- oh, hello.âÂ
He beams as their server nears the table.
âI would like-â
âSir, weâve been getting complaints of cherries being flung into peopleâs glasses and weâre going to have to ask you to leave.â
âOh.â
Because of courseâŠRyomen Sukuna had been completely correct.
As the group gets up to leave - perhaps to another diner downtown or so - youâre refusing to let Jin apologize. And youâre still holding onto Choso as though he was the dreamiest boyfriend in the whole wide world, and you were the luckiest girlfriendâas dreamy as he may beâŠyou werenât the girlfriend heâd been dating for the past five months.
In fact, you werenât his girlfriend at all.
In fact, youâd only met two hours prior.
You were #1 Rental Girlfriend in all of Tokyo. And this time, youâd been hired to save face at a family get-together.
Of course, it wasnât the first time that youâve had to pretend your way through such a predicament - more people than one would think had less and less time for love. Especially not in this day and age. Especially not when work and responsibilities latched onto you like a starving tick, and though its blood supply might be modest at first, it only grows hungrier and hungrierâgreedier, until youâre bone-dry. Bone-dry. Bone-dry. And it still feeds- whatâs next? The bones and all?
And society still looks at you with the same standardsâyes, the parasiteâs gotten bigger, but why are you so frail?
And before you know it, youâre hiring a rental girlfriend to prove to your parents that yes- you can still be a functional and well-balanced adult still!
This was exactly why you continued being a rental girlfriend.
Itâd started out as a side-job during your first year of universityâyour friends were all getting partners or throwing themselves into their studies. And you needed something fulfilling to pass the time.
Then, your best friend suggested getting a part-time job.
Youâre sure she didnât mean as a rental girlfriend.
But you couldnât help it - itâd been the first advertisement for Hiring thatâd popped up once youâd searched online!Â
And it was meant to be for a few weeks initially- really, you hadnât planned on continuing this career for so long. Let alone making it a sort of career.Â
That morning, youâd opened up your approved application for Doki-Doki-Girlfriend and determinedly made your way to the interview section - promising yourself that youâd run at the first sign of anything off. The interview was being held at the Doki-Doki headquarters: this pretty pink-colored building in downtown Akihabara that had formerly been a host club. Itâd been dimly-lit and draped in old perfume and even older sex.Â
Though youâd been nervous the first time you entered, youâd been quickly taken by the Doki-Doki ownerâTsukumo Yuki.
The first thing she asked you was what your type in men was.
And when youâd answered - through your shock - that it was the shy, stuttering type- she laughed that that was about 95% of their clientele. So youâd be lucky, perhaps.
Yuki, as she insisted you call her, explained to you the ins and outs of being a rental girlfriend. To smile. To simper. To be sweet but not overly so.
To never let them pressure you into anything. They werenât the type of rental business that offered other sorts of services.Â
What people were searching for above all was a connection- for at least this brief moment in time. And the both of you would understand this transaction: it was the fantasy of a human bond that you were selling, and they were buying. It was your time. It was your emotional investment.
But laterâŠyou would come to genuinely connect with most of those you worked with.
After that interviewâwhich you passed with flying colors, you spoke with some of the other girls working there and decided to continue with the job opportunity. Much to Yukiâs delight, whoâd taken a liking to you almost immediately. After that was the training period - during which you accompanied some of the other rental girlfriends on their dates.
You were introduced to some as their friendâand as many guys as expected were actually flattered to be seen with two âgirlfriendsâ in public.Â
You took notes on conversation topics. You watched their behaviours.Â
You understood how theyâd change their approaches according to the needs of their clients, and you absorbed it all.
After a few weeks of observation, you were finally added to the roster of rental girlfriends to go on your own dates.Â
You just didnât expect to shoot to the top of the ranks.
#1 in Tokyo.
Perhaps one of the Top 5 in the entire countryâonly three years after starting, in your fourth year of university.Â
The clients adored you.
They draped you in gifts. They went on repeat dates - spending extra just for a minute of your time, though you often refused the additional amounts. Of course, there would be no funny business (and this was something you made quite clear within the first few minutes of meeting a new client). And excluding one or two unsavory clients that were quickly blacklisted from Doki Doki, youâd grown rather fond of your regulars.
There was the older woman whoâd practice speaking to women through you- for when she planned on getting her first girlfriend. There was the excitable college student who tested out date spots with you. There was the pensioner who wished to take a monthly stroll through the park, simply talking about their day.
It was the feeling of belonging amongst strangers. Connecting with people you never could have imagined finding common ground with before.
And you believe, through this line of work, you began to understand humans better.
Humans were all justâŠreally, really lonely.
Choso had been the same when he came to you.
It had been a working day like any other - youâd been called to the front desk of Doki Doki in order to be given a briefing of your next date. It was all standard processes, really.
Name: Kamo Choso
Age: 23
Occupation: Student
Prior appointments: None.
Prior love life: None.
Purpose: Client seeks a rental girlfriend to sit through a family dinner with his family, pretending to be his girlfriend. Prior backstory required to be able to maintain the conversation and create the illusion of a loving relationship (5 months). Flirting and mild physical affection.Â
Extra notes: Client says to please be wary of his extra ârowdyâ family.Â
And so, youâd accepted.
You met up with the aforementioned Chosoâand found yourself a little taken aback at just howâŠcute he was.
Nerdy. Nervous.
Pushing his glasses up as he frantically introduced himself - that, too, messing his name up a few times before actually telling you.
Exactly your type. Yuki had been right.
He was your age, and went to - it turns out - the same university as you. Though the two of you hadnât seen each other before, Choso confessed that that might be because he was cooped up in the library most of the time.Â
He bowed at least a dozen times through apologies for the trouble- even though you assured him that meeting a family wasnât anything out of your way. And then he insisted on paying extra, on coming up with a code should you want to leave, onâyou shook your head and grabbed his hand. âSo, how did we meet, boyfriend?â
You always did enjoy the ones where big families were involved - sure, they might be more awkward in the long runâŠbut those types of dates always did manage to make you feel so warm inside. Big families. Big emotions.
And the biggest, perhaps, of all had been meeting the Itadori family.
Theyâd been unlike any other family youâve ever met.
And that was saying a lot.
Thus, youâre letting out a prolonged sigh the moment youâre stepping outsideâit was some downtown diner that the six of you had ended up at after your less-than-ceremonious exit at the ice cream parlor. Sukuna had been craving something hearty after living through that introduction on just sweets and coffee - and Jin had suggested one of their favorite ramen places.
It was only after youâd sat down with them at one of the booths - the one they called their âusualâ - that Jin had revealed that when they referred to it as âtheirâ ramen placeâthey really meant the their.
In everything but ownership.
This was the first restaurant theyâd gone to celebrate Chosoâs first birthday, this was the first restaurant theyâd gone to after Jinâs mother had passed, this was the first restaurant theyâd gone to after Yuji was born and Jin was granted full custody.
And you couldnât help but feel a strange sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach. What was that you said about family-oriented dates being the most awkward in the long term?
At least the ramen had been the best youâd ever tasted- and the conversation flowed freely. Even Sukuna seemed to forgo his initial suspicion to make some conversation with you on Akihabaraâs best spots.Â
And in the end, you were walking out of that ramen restaurant with a full stomach and an even more full heart.Â
Waving to the retreating backs of Jin, Sukuna, Wasuke, and a sleeping Yujiâyouâre turning to Choso once they were completely out of sight. âYour family isâŠâ
âAbhorrent?â He pushes his glasses up with a crooked smile. Choso had eased up around you significantly compared to your initial meeting outside the Doki Doki building, stammering through an adequate backstory for your faux-relationship, though he still seemed to be the nerve-wracked type.
âNoâŠâ You pretend to think.
âOverbearing?â
âNo.â
âSavages?â
âCertainly not.â
âThe servers at that ice cream parlor would disagree.â Choso mutters, âHow about aneurysm-causing?â
âNo.â Youâre shaking your head once again, before turning to him with a smile. âTheyâre loving.â
Choso says nothing, but the tips of his ears burn.
âThey care about you a lot- even your uncle was making sure I wasnât some stranger just taking your money.â WellâŠ
The long-haired man pushes his glasses up with a sputter of confirmation- or at least something that sounds like it. âI-I suppose ah- in their ownâŠways theyâre ratherâŠâ Choso swallows a few times, and youâre watching his face as he does soâthe Sun was dipping past the horizon now, and cracking its golden yolk over the grooves of his worried face. Handsome. Choso Kamo was just so handsome.Â
With his lashes dark and draping over his cheekbones. With his lips pouty and bitten whenever he was thinking deeply about something. With his stature so tantalizingly tallâthough he didnât even seem to be aware of it, as he navigated the world like a newly-birthed fawn.Â
He was the prettiest boy youâve ever seen - glasses and all.Â
ââcaring.â Choso finally finishes his sentence.
Youâre letting a smile stretch across your lips- and before you can think twice, youâre clasping Chosoâs hand once more. Youâd been doing it so often over the course of the date that it almost feels- natural now.Â
âYou knowâŠyou paid for five hours of my time, Choso. Do you know how much more time we have left?âÂ
âTwo hours, fourteen minutes andââ He grows ever-redder as he stares down at you. Were youâŠleaning in? Pressing yourself against him? Fuck. â-f-fifteen seconds.â
âMmmm, I do love a smart boy.â Beginning to tug him in another direction from the path to the Doki Doki building - though you leave enough leeway that he can stop should he want to. Choso follows you like a dog on a leash. âI donât usually do this, but if you want to spend the rest of your time with me thenâŠI know this ah- other place we can go to?â
âLike you want me to c-call my family back for another family dinner?â Choso asks, eyes bulging.
âOh no, no.â You laugh. âThis place isnât family friendly at all.â
.
.
.
âA-a love hotel-â
âOne room, please. Standard.â Interrupting Choso, you smile at the receptionist.
âWill that be for an allocated time or overnight?â
âHmmâŠâ You glance sidelong at the gawking Choso next to you- looking around the hotel lobby as though it was some sort of attraction. âOvernight, please.â
As the woman behind the desk continued tap-tap-tapping away at her keyboard, you take a moment to look at Choso - now adjusting his glasses to make sure that he was seeing right. That really was a bowl of condoms sitting on the front desk. As the heat rushes up the back of his neck, youâre wrapping your arms around one of his ownâand pressing your body against his. âEverything alright, Cho?â
Heâd been like this ever since you started heading him in the direction of the glitzy love establishment. Pink walls. Fluorescent lights. Heâd agreed to goingâŠelsewhere to continue your date- but heâd expected your apartment or something! Choso had been stunned but allowed you to lead him in front of the love hotel, and once outside you turned towards him once more. It was the first time you yourself was doing this with who was supposed to be a client. âAnd youâre really su-â
âYes.â
And that was that.
The lobby was quietâŠtoo quiet. In a way that made your spine tingle with anticipation.
âThatâs aâŠa real bowl of condoms.â He exclaims- earning a look from the receptionist.Â
âThat is. Is this your way of saying that we donât need any?â You jokeâŠmostly. Then the key gets slid over to you - Room 143 - and youâre nodding at the receptionist. âThank you.â
The two of you make your way down the lust-pink corridor and take the elevator up to your room - jamming in the key to open up a space that looked as if a honeymoon threw up all over it. Rose petals on the floor. Faux candles flickerinâ on the beside cabinet. Rows upon rows of even more condoms lined on the middle of the queen-sized bed.Â
If you looked at it from the right angle, it formed a few hearts.Â
âI didnât mean we shouldnât use themâŠâ Chosoâs the first one to speak- and he visibly gulps as you close the door behind you two. âItâs justâŠI-Iâve never done this before.â
Your eyes widenâyouâd been suspecting this ever since you entered. But to have it actually confirmedâŠâNo fooling around before finals or anything? Nothing to de-stress?â
He shakes his head nâ bites his lower lip. âNothing. I havenât even had my first kiss, to be honestâŠâ Choso looks up at you with those nervous eyes. âIs that okay?â
âOkay?â You smile. Walking over to twist your hands into his lapels- and tug him to you. âItâs perfect. And since youâve shared a secret with me, Iâm gonna share one with you, okay?â
He nods.Â
And so youâre leaning in so that your lips are grazing - just grazing - his pretty, blushing ears. âIt turned me on more than it shouldâve, seeing you on your knees in that parlor.â
Choso gasps-
And then your lips are on his.Â
Then youâre tucking his cute, shivering bottom lip into your mouthâand sucking softly. Choso lets out the most guttural groan at the act- and his hands tremble in mid-air not knowing what to do.Â
âDonât be shy.â Youâre cooing at him - reaching up and guiding one of his hands to be on the back of your neckâthe other one on your ass. You lean into his surprisingly firm chest, âAlthoughâŠI find it really cute when youâre shy.â
His involuntary whimper gets swallowed up by your own lips.Â
Youâre the one thatâs guiding him through the sensual motions of your mouth. Kissing and kissing him till heâs senseless.
Till those thick glasses of him have been knocked ever-so-slightly askew.
Till youâve left him weak in the knees - literally.Â
Choso Kamo is melting into youâheâs letting his hands grasp your body as though a forgetting man holding onto his last memory, a drowning sailor holding onto a lifeboat. It doesnât even feel real to him. And he canât stop himself as his hands, his body, his knees buckle nâ heâs sliding doooooown the expanse of your body- lips breaking contact with yours with a pained grunt.
Before he knows it, his knees are hitting the floor.
And heâs peering up at you with a desperate expression; brows pinched, mouth kiss-bitten and trembling. Expression something of dazed awe. It makes your pussy clench at just how utterly pathetic he looks. âEverything alright, baby?â
âNgh- yes.â You watch as one of his hands automatically shoots to cover his crotch - he was rock-fucking-hard already.Â
âYou suuuuure?â Teasing. Thereâs a devilish twinkle in your eyes thatâs reflected through his as utter indigence.Â
And without saying anything more, you step backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Bouncing a few times. Youâre sitting yourself down on the plush bedsprings, crossing your legs- and watching him through half-lidded eyes. Not a single word comes out of you.
But it doesnât take a single word for Choso to realize what you wanted with a joltâ
He crawls to you.
He crawls to you.
Chosoâs letting his features twist into something akin to embarrassment - with the tips of his ears so red that they were practically radiating heat - as he edges closer. As he shifts on his knees. As he crawls just as he had been doing in the ice cream parlorâexcept this time, the only cherry he was searching for was that cute lilâ wet spot between your legs.
Your dress was short and already hiked up to reveal those pale pink panties.Â
Was that a little bow on top?
Though it seems like an age before heâs finally able to reach close enough to affirm that- yes, that was a little bow on top. Choso finally manages to without combusting, and looks up at you with wide, pleading eyes.Â
âPleaseâŠâ He begs.
Youâre softly caressing his cheek- almost lovingly. And Chosoâs eyes flutter shut, leaning into the touch in an almost feline manner.Â
Moving to his jawline. Moving to the back of his sweaty scalp.
And then youâre shoving his pretty face between your legsâand Chosoâs letting himself gladly be shoved. Manhandled. His chin sticks against the foamy mess of your panties, so wet with all your leaking juices. His nose digs between the plushest parts of your swollen pussylips. And Choso lets out a hallowed breath as he gapes his mouth ever-so-slightly wider-
âAwww, why so shy, baby?â Youâre cooing down at him.
With your hand clasped onto the back of his head- youâre guiding Chosoâs mouth to better plaster against your pussy. For him to find his balance.
âS-sâlike a second kiss.â Choso sputters out. And youâre grinning.
âNaughty, are we?â You had a feeling that this was going to be a loooooot of funâŠ
Chosoâs mouth was parted. And his lips were rubbinâ incessantly up and down the outline of your cuntâup and down, up and down.
That flimsy fabric of your panties was just glued to your sopping wet pussy, and heâs able to slot his lips over your folds perfectly. Managing to string down a line of hot wet kisses where you needed him the most- âMmmmâŠâ Youâre arching your back with a deep groan as his nose fits between your pussylipsâthe pointed tip pressing on your clit. âJust like that, Cho. You can go deeper if you like, yâknow that?â
âH-how, baby?â He rasps. Those pleading eyes of his were just so cute- and Choso canât last too long speaking without pressing a few more open-mouthed kisses on your cunt.
âYou want me to teach you?â Youâre asking him, to which he nods. âMmm, well open your mouth a little wider- just a little wider-â
And he does- his cute canines snagginâ against the top of your pussylips.
âYou can just start off by kissing lightly, baby. Remember how we did all that kissing earlier?â Nodding once more. âYeah- just try to replicate that.â
âMâgonna do my best, babyâŠâ Heâs starting off soft at first- slow. Almost timid in his movements as he properly slots his mouth over your pussy - over your panties - and kisses nâ sucks lightly.Â
âFuck- you study biology, so you know where the good spots are, hm?â
âThe glans clitoris a-and theâŠâ Kitten kisses. â-the labia minora contain an immense number of nerve endings.â Chaste pecksâbut every single droplet of your pussyâs juices splashed onto his tongue seems to leave Choso Kamo reeling.Â
Eyes drawing to the back of his head. Ragged pants emanating from the back of his throat.Â
And heâs pushing himself deeper, deeper, deeper - making out with your pussy so desperately, depravedly that his glasses were crushing against your pelvisââEasy there, baby. Easy.â The only way to even get him to take a breath is to tug him back using his hair. âWe have more than ânough time, okay?â
âMhmmmmâŠâ He nods through a pout- lips sucking off the juices seeped into your panties. âAll night.â
âEager boy. Next, I want you to use your tongue, okay?â His expression turns into something startled. âWhat? Not scared are you, Cho?â
Choso shakes his head furiouslyâas though he couldnât stand the mere thought of it. âN-no.â He hisses, hot breath gluing to your leaking core - the way he was just soâŠgreedy to lavish your pussy left you even wetter. And he was gladly allowing the excess residue to land all over his face and end up sliding off, âNo no no- not at all. This pretty labia- Mmmpfââ
Whatever else was on the tip of his tongue gets muffled-Â
For then Chosoâs flattening his tastebuds on top of your pussy. Those swollen pussylips. Movinâ his muscle siiiiiiide to the siiiiiide and then up and down the line of your slit.Â
You whine, âOh- just fuck me with it.â Tugging on his locks, âFuck me with your tongue- ngh, the way I know youâve been wantinâ to since we met. Donât think I didnât see the way you were looking at meâŠâ
âI wasâŠâ He pleads. He prays between your legs. Zig-zagging his tongue wildly.Â
And then after heâs sucked off your panties all clean - Choso reaches one of his hands upwards to try and take off those useless undergarments-
But youâre faster than him.
And youâre stopping him with a searing pull at his scalp. The nerdy man lets out a sudden yelp and looks at you with the prettiest doe-eyes. âAh ahââ It almost ached your heart to act so mean to him, not giving him exactly what he wanted. But more than your heart- it was your pussy that was throbbing. âNow who said youâve earned the right to take them off, hm?â
âB-butâŠâ Chosoâs peripherals widen - they were glazed-over with lust. âHow can I reach the tunica mucosa if I donât take offââ
âYou donât have to take it off, right?â You hum. âEat me out through my panties-â
Just the mere sound of that sentence makes Choso moan.
â-andâŠâ And youâre cocking your head to get a better look at where his hips were starting to rut. Against the rickety frame of the love hotelâs bed, he was grindinâ and crushing what seemed to be an aching erection. â-donât touch yourself, either.â
Chosoâs free hand immediately halts in its tracks.
Heâs shooting you a pained look- but more than that, it was flooded with pure, unabashed need.Â
Something dark. Something primal.
Chosoâs tipping his head back and letting you plough your pussy against his mouth- in rough, rapid grinds. You donât wait a single moment for him to catch his breathâand that seems far from his main priority in the first place. Heâs merely flopping his lengthy tongue out - so pinkish nâ pretty - and slithering it past your panties.
Riiiiiight underneath, after a few tries he manages to ease it past the rim of your puckered entrance.
Youâre letting out a semi-shocked gasp once you feel your convulsing walls streeeeetching at the girth of him. He was thicker than youâd expected- with the ridges of his tastebuds melding to your inner channel. And without any experience, Choso doesnât know how to ease into it - which works just as well for you as heâs expanding his thick tongue inside of you. And then thrashing nâ thrashing away. âSh-shit, keep going, Cho.â
âWhat- hck! what do I have to do?â He manages to somehow ask between heavy gulps. And even that amount of time spent parted with your pussy means that heâs letting out loooong, luxurious licks inside your velvety walls to make up for it.
âH-huh?â You blink down at him through your bleary eyes. âKeep going, ngh- faster, baby.â
âNo, I just meantâŠâ Choso blinks those big, beautiful peripherals at you. He kept both hands on your thighs to press himself ever-deeperâhe couldnât get enough. â-what do I have to do t-to take off your panties? I wish to see all of youâŠthat pretty vulva like a flower, the- ngh, prepuceâŠâ
The mere thought has him ruttinâ away against the bed once more.
âHow about you make me- haaaah, cum, baby? Hm?â You smile down at the desperate man, âAnd you have to do it before cumming yourself, mâkay?â
He canât remove your panties.
He canât touch himself.
He canât cum before stuffinâ his face between your legs and making you cum firstâ
Choso was in heaven.
Even through the obscurement of his now-fogged glasses, Chosoâs features twist into something primal- and he lets out a looooow whine before drag-drag-dragging his tongue into your clingy walls again. Thrusting in and out at a frenzied paceâthe nerd was eating you out like a man starved.
Almost wolfish.
Choso was suckinâ and biting and snarling deep into your cunt. His glasses stick against your clit, and every single time he was forced to part with your pussy in order to breathe felt like fucking torture to him. âThe clitoral nerve network consists of about 8000 to- ngh, over 10000 nerve endings-â Before you know it, heâs spitting. Letting it smear down your panties. Then dragging one of his calloused thumbs down that buttony nub. â-and baby, I need you to feel every single one.â
âOhhhhh, fuck.â Your back arches deeper into him. Hands planting against the mattress in order to steady yourself, âA man that knows anatomy is dangerous.â
âAnd then the tunica mucosaâŠthose spots there are also-â Such a priggish smile spreads across Chosoâs mouth - one that youâre feeling on your cunt - as he swabs his tongue inside and stimulates some of those sweet nerve endings he was talking about. The hooked end of his muscle pushes apart your clingy walls, and somehow manages to find those sensitive areas so easily- â-effectiveâŠâ
âShut up and eat me out.â Pushing him deeper between your legs.
âA-and thatâs not to mentionââ But of course, you shouldâve known that it isnât easy to shut a STEM major up when it comes to their subject of interest. Choso most of all. And that nerdy man is babbling away whilst heâs slipping his tongue in and out, in and out, of you at a furious pace- until it was nothing but a pinkish blur squeezing away between your pussylips. â-the GrĂ€fenberg spot-â
âYou mean the g-spot?!â Youâre wailing out.
âMy favorite.â Choso nods, with your clit sucked into his mouth. Holding your panties to the side. He now alternates between rolling his tongue over your sensitive nub, and pushing it deep into your holeâstretchinâ you out juuuuust enough for his fingers to slip nâ squelch their way inside.
Youâre letting out the shrillest keen as two of his fingers scissor apart your cuntâs walls, pushing up into their spongy surroundings to mold his sheer size into you. Heâs softer on the tips of his digits, and rougher against the sides - âEasy there. Fuck, easyâŠâ Chosoâs sucking in a harrowed breath.
âI should be the one saying that to you.â You huff. Because Choso wasnât dry-humping the foot of the bed whilst eating you out anymore - he was way past that.
Now solely keeping himself pushed- wedged in one place because just a little more friction and heâs bound to be cumming. âI-Iâm alright, baby.â He tells you, âThe GrĂ€fenberg spot is located on the anterior wall, so rightâŠupâŠâÂ
Just a single press up into the roof of your cunt makes you buck - not having pressed on your sweetest spot just yet but-
âAnd then about two- three inches deeeeeepââ The loudest, sloppiest squelch! echoes across all four corners of the love hotel room as he eases inside. Roverinâ about inside your tight, wet channel for a few strokes before an explosion of pleasure runs right through you. â-right- there-â
âFuuuuuuuck, oh.â You simper out. âThere- right there- ngh.â
And then heâs thump-thumping his perfect fingers inside your cunt- accurately pinpointing that one spot inside you with his digits like a searchlight. Again and again. And donât think that his mouth wasnât working overtimeâChoso kept his maw permanently gaped on top of your clit and had his lips hollowed with a constant suctioning motion.Â
Letting out broken moans off into your cunt all the while-
Choso manages to slip in a third finger- though those damn panties kept getting in the way. âBabyâŠâ Thereâs a rasping, almost guttural tone to his words that you donât recognize at first- youâre even raising onto your elbows to make sure that this was the same Choso Kamo.
But it sure was.
Glasses pressed up against your cuntâgetting wetter by the second. âBaby, youâre experiencing vaginal contractions and tremors. Your pulse is faster. Your transudate is leaking even more- youâre getting wetter. And your clitoris is growing even, mmm-â He savors the feeling of your nub being pulled nâ dragged into his mouth. â-more swollen.â
âA-and that meansâŠ?â Though you already have an inkling of it.
âYouâre going to orgasm, baby.â He never sounded more confident than when he was speaking science between your pussylips. âAnd I need you to cum aaaaaall over my mouth, okay?â
âWas planning to.â You whisper-
And itâs with a few more strokes, with a few more gashes of your pussy against his face, that the pressure thatâd been building in your pelvic region finally explodes.
It thrums through your body faster than you can announce itâmaking every single vein, artery, and axiom within you vibrate until theyâre sizzling at the sheer pressure. It felt as though your body was on fire. And the hottest it could get was at your sopping core- shoved against Chosoâs pretty plush mouth and getting draaaagged through the violent peaks of your high.
The best youâve ever had.
Choso manages to locate your g-spot right when the pleasure was hitting you the most - and youâre getting the faint suspicion that he was counting your throb-throb-throbs until heâd timed it just right. âOneâŠtwoâŠâÂ
Thrashing his fingers deepest.
Damn-near tearing your panties.
Shoving his erection against the bed.Â
And his tongue would move over your clit in an almost soothing motion- âYour vasocongestion m-means youâre sucking me up even- ngh, more. Fucking tight.â He spits. âMyotonia and contractions. Your orgasmâs strong, baby.â
âDidnât need science to tell me that.â You comment.
Thrown through your orgasm.
Itâs a crescendo then a plateau, and then when youâre finally done - Choso keeps jabbing his greedy fingers into you just for a few seconds longer. Fucking you through it. Fucking you past it.
Youâre so sensitive by this point that youâre sobbing- pushing on his sweaty forehead. âBabyâoh, baby Iâm done.âÂ
âDoneâŠ?â He rasps. Eyes bleary as he raises them up, seeing you on your elbows. âOh.â
âAnd you did as I wanted.â It takes much more effort than you expected to detach him from your quivering pussy - still a little sensitive from your previous orgasm. It was incredible. A part of you almost couldnât believe that itâd been poor, inexperienced Choso Kamo that pulled that out of you.Â
Heâs setting your cunt free with a whimper nâ a loooooud slurp!
Watching slack-jawed as you peel off your soaked-through panties and throw it right at him- it makes you gasp when Choso catches it with one handâŠ
Then brings that flimsy fabric riiiiight up to his face to sniff, to suck off the remnants of your syrupy sap. Not a speck of regret.
âFilthy.â You leer.
And then youâre tightening your hold on himâmerely than sound was enough to wrench out a yearning croon from him. Preventing Choso from chasing after your cunt once more, âNow nowâŠyou donât want to continue losing that virginity of yours, baby?â
âI-I do.â He eagerly nods.
âGood. Then get on the bed fâme.â Youâre patting at the space beside you.
Soon enough, your positions are somewhat flipped - Choso finds himself lumbering onto the bed. Back against the mattress. Skin searing at the heat that your body had left behind.Â
He lies where you did- and youâre making quick work of discarding his graphic t-shirt (proudly claiming âI found this humerusâ next to a picture of a bone) and his trousers. The tent in his boxers was jaw-droppingâChoso stood proudly erect, thick and looking heavy between his legs, his bulbous tip kept trickling out more nâ more precum the longer you stared.Â
And had he justâŠ
Taking off his boxers to make sureâyouâre revealing his cock. Long and rock-hard.
It slaps against his soft core, and leaves a heart-shaped mark of sap. Just about seven or so inches in length- though the longer your gaze lingers on himâŠthe longer he seems to look. Shit, was he about nine inches, maybe? And he wasnât too thick - just flared enough at the tip that heâs sure to make your walls feel it.Â
But Choso had an abundance of pretty, long veins decorating down the shaftâunderneath the tip, creating patterns down to his base. One which had a few sparse tufts of curly brown - almost black - hair.
Yet what youâre interested in the most was how Choso was so damn hard that his blushinâ red tip looked just about ready to fall offâ
âI c-couldnât help myself, baby.â Choso admits shyly. His hands reach downwards to try and cover his mess- but youâre waving him off. âHaving you cum aaaaall over my mouth made me- ngh, want to cum as well.â
âI can see that.â You smirk.
âI didnât mean to.â He insists, voice growing urgent as the silence stretches - fearing that youâd perhaps refuse to continue as he somewhat broke his promise. âP-promise, I didnât mean to! Itâs just that your tunica mucosa was squeezing me so tight- and your vaginal lubrication just tasted so sweet-â
âChoso?â
âYes, baby?â
âShush.â
âI- oh.â
Because, initially, youâd planned on riding the man senseless. But now you were leering yourself closerâalmost sake-like in motion.
Staring deep into Chosoâs widening eyes once youâre hovering yourself over his shivering legs. His long abdomen. And pressing a cute peck right on the top of his frothing tipâthe splashes of his precum were syrupy-sweet. And they were combining with Chosoâs cum from earlier to add a salty tint-
âSo messy.â Youâre whispering as you run your tongue âround and âround the top of his shaft. Cleaning him off until he was shining. âAre you gonna make a mess like this inside me too, hm?â
âD-donât say something like thatâŠsâgonna make me cum again.â Choso pleads.
And he really was serious - his words were on the verge of shattering.
Youâre letting out a giggle- right into his aching hot cock. The vibrations sprint through his body and make him buck up into youâbody before his mind, he doesnât even realize until heâs doing so with a startled yelp. âMy apologies-â
âMmm, keep going. Get some practice in before the real deal.â You hum once more.Â
Choso seems as though heâs about to sob - this was too good for him - as he fucks his cock into your mouth a few more times. You relax your throat to take down most of him, and the parts that you canât get milked with one hand.Â
Once. Twice. Thrice and quadruple before his flared tip starts twitchinâ wildlyâdraaaaagging up the soft insides of your throat, he leaves a salty aftertaste behind that makes you realizeâŠ
Youâre pulling off of his cock with an emanating pop! âBut youâve got to save that up for inside, got it?â
Heâs nodding so hard you idly wonder whether he might get whiplash. âYes, baby. Anything for you, baby.â
âMmmâŠâ Climbing up the expanse of his body, youâre kissing Choso squarely with the same lips. âJust how I like it.â
And then your knees straddle Chosoâs slender hips, your thighs press against his sweltering skin - you reach behind you to grab ahold of his cockâs baseâand the sudden squeeze is enough to make him jolt. Bodily. Heâs letting out a visceral shiver, âB-babyâŠâ
You guide his ruddied tip to youâand just the barest, briefest smooch of your sweet pussy makes him jolt. Just feelinâ his hardness press up against your softness.
It makes him drive his hips off the mattress suddenly.Â
âAh ah-â You warn. âTake it easy, baby. We have all night, donât we?â
âButâŠâ Chosoâs eyes flicker between your face nâ where the two of you were about to connect. Something in him seems to almost break. So close. So close- âThatâs so unfair. Your pussy feels like this and youâre expecting me to take it easy?â
A hand claws down your arched spine.
âNot even the textbooks could replicate how good it feels- mânot even inside you yet and I feel like Iâm going insane.â
You swipe a thumb down his throbbing tipâcatching a bead of white that was threatening to pour out. âI told you. As long as you keep it inside, Cho.â
And then youâre letting your hips lower - aiming to seat yourself down on that toned pelvis of his. âOhhhh, fuck.â Your back bends, your head tips backwards as youâre taking in the inches of him. Itâs a slow process - given that Choso was much larger than average - and youâre wrenching out primal moans as his thick length invades your core. A sweet prodding vein down the side of him was already massaging your insidesââYouâre so big, baby. Itâs always the quiet ones, huh?â
If he heard you, then he doesnât make a show of it.
Chosoâs handsome features scrunch up into something of pure ecstasy as he dives his cock deeper into you. Hands flying to your waist. Bottom lip stuck between his teeth. âInside-â He whispers.
âHmmm?â
âInside- inside.â Choso gets out through heated pants. His mouth was moving a mile a minute- fuck, even his mind was. But he couldnât possibly juggle any single coherent thought when his cock was sucked between your soft, soft pussylips and getting practically drained already. âA-am I really going inside? Or is this just a dream, baby?â
Without waiting around for an answer- heâs pinching his arm.
It leaves an angry red mark that proves to him that noâŠlife really was this sweet.
âI am?â As though still in disbelief.Â
As though this in and of itself would be enough to make him cum and- oh, shit.Â
He really was cumming.
It seems to take the both of you by surprise, and Chosoâs lunging his hips completely off the mattress - slamming his cockhead into the springy back of your cunt.Â
Bouncinâ off at the sheer force for a few seconds- it isnât long before heâs then scouring deep into your walls and letting his bawling divot run free. Cumming in less than a single stroke inside you. âOh- oh, shit.â Chosoâs mouth waters, a single line of spittle running from the corner of his lips. âIâm sorry IâŠâ
But he doesnât have an answer.
He really, truly doesnât.
âPussy got your tongue?â You giggle.Â
This was his first time - and your pussy just felt that good all wrapped âround him and keeping him hostage.
His cumâs flooding you with a warmth, spreadinâ from the in-betweens of your legs and then right upwards. The satiny tresses of it rush uuuuup your walls nâ then right back downâthose goopy layers then getting fucked back in by his desperate semi-thrusts.Â
Squelch after squelch as he accumulates the cum like frosting on top of his swirling tip. Shoving.Â
Choso scrunches his eyes shut and tears start to well up behind- now he was crying, too? Crying just by putting it in?! Buried like this, he feels like heâd do anything for you right now. He feels like he could lay his life on the line for you right now. He feels likeâlikeâhe could really truly ask you to become his real girlfriend nowâŠ
âBaby, I think I love you.â Choso blubbers up. âDo you want to marry me?â
âLetâs get dinner first.â You giggle, lovingly patting his cheek.Â
âOhâŠâ
If you could feel the way his ruddied tip twitches inside you (and you could) then youâre not teasing him for itâŠmuch. Simply a smirk before youâre veering your hips down until heâs bottomed-out.
Clit massaging against the scruff of his happy trail. Pussylips struggling to squeeze around his sheer size. âFuck.â Youâre groaning, starting up a lecherous pace that keeps Chosoâs toes curled - his head thrown back into the pillows, his skin blushing. He was flustered.
But more than that- he wanted more.
And sending a silent word of gratitude to the chance of the universe and science itself, Choso slithers that same right hand of his between your sultry legs. Sheened with slick.Â
You were making such a mess fucking him whilst youâre still keeping his cum inside youâhe scrapes his calloused thumb up, up, uuuup the few inches of his cock still left to fit inside. Collecting the slimy layers of slick up until the folds of your pussy. Reaching it up to his mouth-Â
âNow, now.â You tut. âAre we just going to waste that, hm?â
âOhâŠyouâre right.â With a quiver of his lips, he then plunges it back inside. Then repeats the motion again and again until youâre feeling stuffed to the brimâwith both his cock nâ his sappy fluid. Like you said before, it all deserved to stay inside.Â
And you better keep it.
The rickety bedsprings creeeeeeakâ! as he meets your pace.Â
Choso continues, âNot just cum.â His curvaceous thumb swipes your inner folds again, âBut that bulbourethral fluid deserves to stay inside, too. How else mâI gonna fill you up, baby?â
âOh, of course.â You coo, something sensual. âBut donât think that thatâs going to be your last time cumming tonight, Cho.â
His eyes damn-near bulge out of their skull. âE-excuse me?â
âItâs not even your last time cumming in this hour.â Oblivious - or so you pretend to be - to his growing concern nâ his gaping mouth. Youâre bowing your body into hisâmanoeuvring your hips in somewhat of a circular motion, the slightest figure-eights and curves, that drag his tunneling cock juuuuuust right against every nook and cranny of your walls. Every hidden spot. âYouâre gonna cum for me at least twice more, right?â
âI-IâI donât know if thatâs even possible!â Choso sputters, pushing his glasses up with his free hand- it was glossy with the excess of your slick from earlier.
And without warning, youâre leaning down to lightly lick off a bit of that glittering sheen.
Choso moans nâ feels his overly-stimulated length jolting away inside of you. âBaby, just consider the refractory period. Has it even been a few minutes since I lastâŠ?â
âJust about.â Youâre smile. âShould be enough, no?â
âThough it varies based on age and health- when I can cum next depends on the blood redistribution, and how long prolactin and serotonin lasts in the body.â Choso admits then, albeit a bit sheepishly. âAnd Iâm still fuh-feeling so goooood, baby- fuck I canâtââ
âBut my smart boyâs gonna find a way, right?â Even if he couldnât cum again, however - it was just too cute to watch Choso squirm like this. âWhen I said I wanted it inside, I wanted it stuffed inside, Cho.â
âS-stuffedâŠâ He breathes - almost hypnotized by your pussy.
Youâre grinding and swervinâ and clenching around his vein-loaded length in ways he couldâve only ever dreamed about beforeâŠâMhm. Need it pouring out of me.â You beg, putting your best pleading expression on. âNeed it up untilâŠâÂ
Hands scouring up his front to press down on your stomach- almost up to your chest.
â-here.â
You pout.Â
âIf mânot bloated with your cum, Cho, is there even a point?â
âNo there isnât.â Chosoâs jaw dropsâas though the epiphany had just dropped on him. And no sooner are the words leaving his worry-bitten lips, he finds himself pumping wispy ropes of cum deep past your entrance.Â
He doesnât even know how he did it.
His body just seems to listen to you more than himself - and Choso jerks his pelvis up in synchronization with the faintish strings of cum that escape him. Thoroughly into your cunt. Thoroughly coating it on top of your womb.
Youâre shivering as you feel the thin excess thwack! against your deepest innards. Such a lecherous feeling that cannot be replicated.Â
Every time he strikes your spongy cervix, Choso lets out a sudden whimper. He sobs. He groooans. Heâs fighting to clamor onto your body in any possible way that he could - your waist, your legs, your tits. It doesnât matter where, Choso just needed to grab ahold of you and perhaps try to get you to fucking slow downâ
âPlease.â Every single letter in that word is botched with a cry, âP-please. Baby, keep riding me like this and youâre going to make me cum again-â
âIsnât that the point? Third timeâs the charm?â You ask.Â
âOhâŠâ Itâs then that he remembers that youâd said twice more- he has to cum twice more. Hiccuping, âYouâre going to be the death of me.â
Cocking your head with a smile, âAnd would you like to stop?â
âNot at all.â
Then youâre planting one hand in the middle of his defined chest for balance. Throwing your head back and ridinâ him silly.
Choso cries beneath you. Choso babbles. Torn between the pleasure of having those sweet, sopping lips wrapped âround him- and the insanity of his orgasm just barely bating before youâre attempting to hurtle him into another one. This was almost too much for his just recently-lost virginity, but Choso begs for more, more, more. âPlease- please- that anterior wall of yours is so clo-â
With your other set of fingers then shoved into Chosoâs pretty mouth- spit splashes from the sides of his lips. But heâs taking you so happilyââNo no, keep going.â You tell him once his brows raise in surprise, âI just wanna watch my poor boyfriend struggle just a bit.â
âMmmmpf- soooo good.â He lets out an agonized moan, muffled through the intrusion of your digits. Youâre swirling them âround his mouth and watching him lightly choke on them. âI need to c-cum just once more, huh?â
Chosoâs tears were enough to wash off the fog from his glasses lens.
And he blinks those teary eyes up at you - a few times before one of his hands slithers between your legs. Almost difficult, considering how the space between your two sweaty, crashing bodies was practically non-existantâbut his long fingers find a way to thumb apart your puffy pussylips. Nearly swollen shut.
He runs the doughy tips of his digits across your clit, âAround itâŠjust light kisses.â Choso murmurs to himself. âJuuust a little- ngh.â
A single squeeze of your fluttering walls leaves him reeling.Â
âAnd then the good spots-â Peering down at your glossy cunt through his glasses, his half-lidded eyes. âThe primary erogenous zones are the clitoris and introitus. Then the periurethral surrounding the urethra is alsoâŠohâŠâ Alternating between bashinâ his swollen cocktip against your g-spot, and thoroughly massaging every good spot heâd memorized.
âShitâŠâ You suddenly clench around him. âKeep going.â
He was seeing stars at the mere action. âAnd then the- hngh, even the perineumâŠâ Fingers dipping just a liiiittle downwards to roll over that spot. He was unabashed - not in the state to be as he usually would. âAnd then fucking- at least as much as I canâŠhereâŠâ Slack-jawed, gaze unfocused. âMy favorite is the clitoris.â The nerd presses the crescent pad of his thumb down on that knob.
Your hips are stutterinâ at the sheer amount of pleasure overwhelming you. Choso has taken up stimulating your clit in constant circular motions now. âI th-thought you said your favorite was the g-spot?â
âBoth.â
As if on cue, heâs banging his thick tip against that ooooone spot.
Choso was stimulating you almost too well. Leaving you the one speechless as he drills his hips into you at a relentless paceâalmost painfully desperate.Â
âGood boy.â You whisper.
âJust need to make you- mmm, cum soon.â He states. âBecause if you cumâŠthen Iâm sure to cum, too.â
Shoving a third finger in his mouth, he moans as he sucks. You hum, âAnd youâre sure youâre a virgin?â
âSâjust everything you t-taught me.â He insists, mouth full yet listening to every word you said - if you expected an answer, then he was giving you an answer. âAnd sometimesâŠIâd search upâŠthings onlineâŠâ
âNot that, I get too shy.â Choso responds. He blushes all the way down to the roots of his hair, âBut using my textbooks, Iâd- hah, read through themâŠstudy themâŠlook at all the diagramsâŠâ
You smirk. âEver jerked off to a textbook, Choso?â
His jaw drops. âNoâŠâ Although you remain rather suspicious of the ever-deepening blush that seems to invade his cheeksâall the way down to his collarbones. âBut I did jerk off just today.â
âToday?â One of your brows raise, âDonât tell me this was- hah, before we met orâŠ?â
He shakes his head. âAfter. After.â Big, bulbous tears make their way down his cheeks - and Choso tastes the salt on them as they splosh across his lips. You do too, as you kiss him. âS-snuck right into the bathroom at that ice cream parlor and- ohââ
âAnd what for? Saw a pretty someone at the neighboring table?â
Shaking his head even harder- âIt wasâŠyou.â
âMe?â
âYou said that thing- fuck, you said you needed me.â Chosoâs dark chocolate-brown eyes glaze over as if heâs reminiscing the very moment. Living in it. âUnder that table. And I couldnât run to the bathroom faster to r-relieve myself.â Ah, this was that time thenâŠ
Your faux-boyfriendâs brows are then knitting.
His cock tunnels into you at an even more accelerated pace - one that leaves your head dizzy. Flinching at every run of his thumb down your pulsing clit.Â
Choso finishes, âBut I only lasted two pumps- the thought of you, nghââ Thrusting in so deep that it felt as though, if he could go past your gooey cervix, then he long since would have. Choso thumps against the back of your cervix and remains there, â-wrapped around my cock and usinâ me to make your anterior- pussy feel pleasure was just too good of a fantasy for me.â
Itâs a lewd admission.
Itâs almost startling to hear this from Choso above all.
And itâs exactly whatâs making you cumâjust in time that he is. Your orgasm is prolonged and has been building up ever since he tickled your g-spot for the first time- âC-cummingâ!â Belatedly, the announcement leaves your lips.
But Choso already knows.
He can already feel the rhythmic clenches of your sopping wet walls - the soft thing heâs ever felt. Theyâre tightening around him and tugginâ on his pistoning cock like you didnât fucking want him to leave.Â
Toes curling. Back arching.
The bang after bang after bang right on that target of your g-spot meant that your orgasm was being intensified. Every peak left your thighs clenching around his waist, and you bounce your hips up nâ down furiously. Up nâ down. Up nâ down. âYes- yes, yes, yesâand youâre c-cumming too, Cho.â
âI am?â Choso blinks his teary eyes down at your lower halves. The smacking of skin-against-skin was deafening, and Chosoâs pelvis was rawly red due to the sheer friction.Â
But more than thatâŠhe was feeling his even redder tip twitch a few times. Once. Twice. Thrice- before the warmth of bliss takes over his body. Itâs a wave of euphoria even stronger than the last few, and it makes the nerdy boy flinch his hips up into yours- agonizingly good. He was hammering into you so animalistically- jabbing short, sloppy semi-thrusts. âI am.â Choso gasps out. âIâm cumming-â
Heâd predicted as much earlier, but it actually worked?!
âMâfilling you up, arenât I?â Choso blabbers, a crazed smile on his face. âThis virginâŠI was able to stuff this pussy full.â
Lovingly patting your cunt.Â
âSo much so that- hah, look sheâs even struggling to- ngh, take me. That cervix uteri is all flooded, huh? All drenched in me?â Through the waves of your high, youâre feeling your orgasm fizzle and pop as he rolls his thumb doooown your clit a few more times. âAnd these pretty labia of yours are all swollen- bloated with my cum, hm?â
âMhmâŠâ Before you blink a few times. âOh- this one was shorter than the last though, wasnât it? Maybe we need to go again- heh.â
âSâit already done? IâŠbut Iâm stillâŠâ Choso jabs out numerous more thrusts before heâs pulling out.
And whilst youâre interested in the squelch! and the feeling of hot, wet cum splashinâ out of you and onto his toned hipsâChoso himself is more interested in the way his cock twitched nâ feels like heâs cummingâŠbut nothing is actually coming out.Â
âOrgasmic anejaculation?â He states in shock. âBaby, youâve made me cum dryââ
âOh.â Lips parting, you look down to watch as his pretty reddened tip jolts about irritatedly as though he was in the throes of his orgasm - and he was. Itâs just that nothing was coming out.Â
âI-itâs likely that this is due to the lack of semen replenishment. Thus, if thereâs none left to-â
âSo fourth timeâs the charm, right?â You cock your head down at him with a smile.
Another time?!
His half-hard length twitches in interest.
âYou really are going to be the death of me.â
Choso really, really needed to ask you out after this.
.
.
.
Ryomen Sukuna knew that the two of you werenât dating.
He knew it.
He just had no way to prove it.Â
That isâŠuntil one day, just a week after that initial introduction to you, Jin had bothered Sukuna into visiting his nephew. Heâd made some cookiesâsome of your favorites that youâd briefly mentioned at the ramen place, and Jin had immediately gotten to work scouring through his recipes. Flipping through some of grandmaâs old cookbooks - he really did get his love for cooking and baking from her.
And then trialing batch after batch of cookies in order to make the perfect one.
And Sukuna hadnât minded, of course - no one in the house had. They each got to scarf down the ones that Jin deemed as âfailedâ and they turned out as great as ever. Sukuna honestly didnât know what more perfection Jin was searching forâespecially not for someone he knew Choso was surely paying you in some mannerâŠ
There was no conceivable world in which his nephew - as much as Sukuna respected him, for the sole reason that he was related to him (and anyone in some proximity to the great Ryomen Sukuna canât be all that badâŠ) - would ever have enough courage to ask a real person out. Let alone someone as electric as you?
Let alone have you say yes?!
Something was up. And Sukuna was on the case.
At least after he finishes this mountain of cookiesâŠ
Either way, it took an entire week for Jin to perfect his cookies. And once completed, heâd thumped Sukuna over the head with a couch cushion and told him to go deliver them to Choso.
Unfortunately they hadnât managed to catch your address or anything of the sort - and there was no telling when Choso would have enough time between his studies and library-haunting to visit. Thus, itâd be easier to just have Sukuna (who was far too busy doing a whole load of nothing) drop the cookies off at Chosoâs apartment and let him give it to you.
Jin could trust Choso with handing them to you safe nâ sound.
He couldnât trust Sukuna not to swallow them whole on the way, howeverâŠ
So it was with a tonne of brotherly intimidation and threatening brandishes of that cushion that Jin waved Sukuna offââyou better not eat those cookies, Ryo.â
But Sukuna promised. He promised.
He had other, more important, things on his mind - like cornering Choso into admitting that the two of you actually werenât dating. Maybe if he didnât relent so easily, heâd even look around the apartment to check for signs of you or anything youâd left behindâafter five months of dating, surely, thereâd be some evidence, wouldnât there?
And then maybe heâd eat the cookies- hah!
The perfect plan.
Ryomen Sukuna what a genius you were, what a mastermindâwho said that Jin was the smarter brother?! It was Sukuna that liked literature and poetry (wait, was nerdiness genetic?) No one should underestimate the sheer underappreciated brilliance of a prodigy like-
âChosoâs uncle?â He gapes as you answer the door- and youâre just as beautiful as he remembered you. And oh, alrightâSukuna admits youâre beautiful. Gorgeous, actually.
Which is also why he found it hard to believe that Choso could ever manage to bag you- sure, he wasnât bad lookingâŠbut thatâs only because Choso was related to him.
Then again, he wasnât any Ryomen Sukuna.
A Ryomen Sukuna that was feeling ratherâŠa lotâŠsmall as he looks at you.
Your eyes widen as you recognize who your visitor was, though your smile never falters.
âOh, Cho should be right out. Please come in, have you eaten breakfast yet? You should join us!â
Opening the door even wider, though he stands as still as a statue.Â
âIsâŠeverything alright.â
No movement once more. No answer, either.
âUmmm, maybe itâs more comfortable there then?â Youâre awkwardly smiling at his lack of a response - this certainly wasnât the Ryomen Sukuna that youâd met at the family dinnerâŠAnd perhaps at the same time, youâre realizing why.
Because you werenât just answering Chosoâs apartment doorâyou were doing so in nothing but sleep shorts and a humerus-related t-shirt that was most definitely not yours. And above the hem of that ratty t-shirt were a series of bite marks, nail marks down your neckâŠsuch an obscene display that makes you immediately yelp and tug your neckline upwards.
Though Sukuna remains gawking. âI uhâŠâ
âI am so sorry.â Youâre blubbering away, and when your neckline fails to cover you adequately without showing off the similar marks on your midriff- youâre reaching your hands up instead. âWeâd just been making breakfast, and Iâd completely forgot-â
âNo, thatâs fine uhâŠâ Goodness, when has the rough nâ tough Sukuna ever floundered like this? âItâs my fault for coming unannounced umâŠâ
âWhatâs this?â Another voice sounds from inside the apartment.
Soon enough, Chosoâs joining the two of you at the doorâheâs in JBA sweatpants and pulling on a t-shirt as he walks. With whatever mercy that the universe had granted Sukuna, Choso sneaks up behind you, so he doesnât see whatever similar markings might have been left on him as Choso finally wears his t-shirt properly.Â
Thereâs amusement in Chosoâs tone as he adjusts his glasses and speaks, âI never thought Iâd see the day that you apologize to anyone, uncle Ryo.â
Choso throws an arm over your shoulder - the intimacy was palpable. Something far more different than at the ice cream parlor, and yetâŠSukuna shouldâve recognized the same admiring glint in Chosoâs eyes back then, too.
The apartment behind was messy in that domestic way. There were eggs frying on the stove.Â
âSh-shut it.â Sukuna spits. âThis is all yourâŠgirlfriendâs fault.â
Ah, you really were his girlfriend. The great Ryomen Sukuna has been wrong. How could this be? How could he fathom such a thing?
[đđ] :: true form!sukuna dealing with your mood swings while pregnant :: tags. wife!reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size diff reader gets called âwoman, bratâ :: wc. 1.8k
youâre crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukunaâs arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of your shared chambers. there really isnât an end to your mental breakdown.
youâre prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe, sticking out from under your kimono.
you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. ânot fair,â you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.
the bedroom doors suddenly swing open.
you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. somehow more upset than you are at the moment.
you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while youâre stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.
after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure.
he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.
âenough with the tears,â sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.
his eyes flicker over your bodyâtaking in the sight of your round belly. he canât deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days.
sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long youâve been sobbing? the realisation that no oneâs checked on you while youâve been crying like this irks him.
the king of curses will make sure that every single servantâand especially the ones assigned to youâpay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.
âdamn it, woman,â he curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, âwhatâs gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"
you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.
âwelcome home,â you utter, remembering to greet him properly.
you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. âiâi went down to the kitchen to get som-something,â you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukunaâs irritation spikes.
âbut they didnât have the food i craved. theyâre out of mangoes,â your wailing starts again just at the mention of the fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.
sukunaâs annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that youâre crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he canât help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.
he brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. âmangoes, huh? yâre out here bawling yâr fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?â
despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplify emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, youâre stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.
âmangoes,â you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch.
you guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.
though, mangoes are your current craving and not having them meant war to you. itâs all you can focus onâeven if your beloved is right in front of you.
âi need them,â you whine and pout again. your hormones make it difficult for you to calm down.
you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out.
âi want my mangoes,â your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, âplease?â
sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that youâre experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.
the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight.
âtsk, damn it,â he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, âyâre really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?â
here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. heâs seen you in many statesâhappy, sad, tired, excitedâbut never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit.
sukunaâs large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.
you pout at him and lean into his touch. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do.
âwell, yes, youâre the one who got me pregnant,â you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.
no matter what sour mood youâre in, you can still be sassy.
though it doesnât last long before your bottom lip trembles again. âi canât do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,â you sniff as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your desire.
sukunaâs smirk wides at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. cheeky little woman, he thinks.
your husband scoffs, his large hand roughly ruffling your hair again before pulling away.
âân i donât regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with yâr cranky ass.â
you roll your eyes at sukunaâs reply. you know youâre an emotional mess, but you canât care less. youâd dl anything for your mangoesâthose juicy ones that you can eat a dozen of in one sitting.
âthe maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ând villages nearby,â you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. youâre trying your best to stay rational.
youâre extremely hungry and havenât eaten ever since breakfast. thatâs how stubborn you are being.
âbut iâm hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,â you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.
âyeah, yeahâfuckinâ hell,â sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. itâs a constant reminder of the effect he has on you and it makes him proud.
he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you donât strain a single muscle.
after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eatâperhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.
sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walk towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra.
itâs driving him insane.
âmangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i fuckinâ get it, brat,â the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb.
youâre lucky that he âtoleratesâ you as his wife.
itâs something more than just âtoleratingâ you, of course, but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.
if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that itâs simply because youâre carrying his heir. however only he knows the full truth, the sappy secret heâll forever keep to himself.
before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume.
they glance from sukuna to you and bow. âgood day,â they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. theyâve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.
the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows youâre holding yourself back from asking for your craving again.
sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume.
âkeep an eye on her while âm gone. feed her what she wants,â he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.
uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.
âwhere are you going, hubby?â
you of course, get a free pass.
you donât hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him such in an oblivious manner. you should known where he is departing to.
âwhereâd you think, smartass?â he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.
you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.
âyou better hold on âtil i come back with yâr stupid mangoes,â he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, âand when i do, i donât wanna hear ânother squeak, understood?â
sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.
your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that heâs actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.
âokay! love you, ryo!â you call out to your husband as he disappears behind the gates.
as expected, your words are met by silence.
thatâs fine with you. not hearing an âi love youâ back doesnât hurt you as much as it did at the start of your relationship.
you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didnât, youâd be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didnât like you.
Blablabla something something Jason disliking Superman/Clark Kent. When Jason was Robin, he didn't understand Dick's hero worship for the Kryptonianâbut he liked Dick enough to shut up and not say anything about it.
Clark just rubbed Jason the wrong way, and at the time, there was no logical reason behind Jason's distaste. Maybe it has something to do with Superman trying to take Batmom away from him? Dick's out on Bludhaven and is currently on a rough patch with mama, so Jason has him all to himself. But then this random ass guy with superpowers is showing up everywhere! (I like the idea of clingy baby Jason, okay? Shush.)
Can't Jason have just one patrol alone with B-mom? Just one?!
Anyway, any of Clark's attempts at trying to get close with the kid only makes Jason hate him more. Clark doesn't get it, honestly. Dick loves him! Why is this one so stubborn?!
Anyway, Jason dies and comes back from the dead via Lazarus Pit. At first, he was severely heartbroken and angry that Batmom didn't seem to do anything to avenge him! Didn't even try to kill the Joker! He's treating Bruce badly and though it hurts him, he's much too angry to cope in a healthier way.
Eventually, Clark comes clean that Bruce did actually try to avenge his deathâalmost killed the Joker if it weren't for Clark stopping him because the Joker became the... Iranian Ambassador? What the fuck?
Jason is stunnedâhe hears about all of this after having one of the most explosive fights he's ever had with Bruce.
Jason: "Oh, ohhhh fuckkkk fuck FUCK!"
Clark: "Take it easy, kiddo. Don't be too hard on yourself, you couldn't have known."
Jason: "No, I could've! I should've! I.... It's my fault."
Clark: "Hey now, don't say that. You know Bruce wouldn't like it if he heard you say such things. It's not your fault."
Jason: "...."
Jason, slow, dramatic turn towards Clark: ".....you're right.... It's not my fault."
Clark, thinking he's finally bonding with Jason: :)
Jason: "IT'S YOUR FAULT!"
Aaaaannddd now Jason has even more reason to dislike Clark lmfao. Well, on the upside, Jason and Bruce are finally taking the proper steps to work on repairing their relationship so that's all that really matters to Clark. Sorta.
He becomes Jason's new target and it does get a bit... Annoying.
Clark: "I'm really, really sorry Bruce... I should've just come clean to him since the beginning."
Bruce: "Don't worry about it Clark, I'm just... Happy to have my son back."
Clark: "So... You don't hate me?"
Bruce: "Of course no-"
Jason, popping up from out of nowhere: "WHO DON'T?!"
YoâŠthis is my first post on tumblr.. but hereâs the Damian Wayne and heâs little precious kitty Alfred that I drew today!! đđŒ ( you have no idea how many times I erased Damianâs face over and over again đ)
